The Bathroom

Warning: this story contains adult content. All persons depicted
are over the age of 18.

Zoe was sitting at the counter of her favorite eatery; The
Dream Machine. It was a kitschy place done up like an old-fashioned soda shop. While
hovering over the remains of her strawberry soda she stared at her new favorite
person; drop dead gorgeous Alan. He had started working at the place a few
weeks before and Zoe couldn’t get enough of his six-two, dark haired, sexy
self.

The man in question walked over to the ice cream freezer and
with his left hand he grabbed a handful of vanilla ice cream. Zoe stared as he
slowly turned around undoing the buttons of his white collared shirt with the
other hand. Once his cut chest was exposed he began rubbing the ice cream all
over it swirling the melted desert around his hardening nipples. He grabbed a
can of whipped cream, shook it, then popped the top off before spraying small
mounds over the small nubs. Zoe gulped and looked down to see him shove the remainder
of the ice cream down his pants.
The melted remains oozing
around the zipper.

Swallowing hard her eyes didn’t leave the show as he walked
towards her dropping the can of whipped cream. Leaning over the counter he
said, “Excuse me; can I take your empty?”

Zoe snapped back to reality to see Alan standing, fully
clothed, in front of her; a smile lighting his cobalt eyes. “Oh, no…I mean yeah,
I’m finished thanks.” She stammered. Her cheeks flared as the arousing day
dream flashed through her mind again. Her eyes shifted to her bag as she
started shoving papers and her binder inside of it from the counter where she
had been writing a short story for school.

God, I need to get
laid
, she thought.

“You ok?” Alan asked.

She looked up to see his smile had changed to a look of
bewilderment as he stood, still holding her empty glass.

“Yeah, I’m fine, see ya latter,” she said as she jumped down
off her stool tossing enough money on the counter leaving more than a couple
bucks for a tip. “Thanks, keep the change.” She waved back to Alan’s prone form
as she walked out the door.

“See ya,” Alan said, barely audible as she cut around the
corner and out the door.

Zoe walked down the side walk humming to
herself
as she swung her military surplus bag back and forth. She was wearing her
favorite outfit, a white mini tank with “I love Heroine” in silver sparkly
writing, cut-off cami jeans, and plum Doc Martins. She wasn’t a drop dead gorgeous
girl, but she was by no means ugly. Zoe had brunette hair that fell just below the
shoulder, hazel eyes, was 5’7”, a size nine, and sported a healthy D cup…much
to her dismay. She always thought anyone who was blessed with breasts hated
them, and
visa
-versa.

Walking home she passed by the usual scenes: a bum passed
out in a doorway wearing a “Jesus saves” shirt, two guys having sex in an ally,
a couple of lesbians apparently fighting over the custody of a cat, and an
endless array of
 
college kids like
herself. She decided to finish her writing project at home without the
distraction of a particular sexy ice-cream slinging soda jerk before going out
tonight. Her and her friend Bean had decided earlier in the week to go to a new
club called The Fetish Front. Zoe thought it would be neat to go to a freaky club
where people who were into stuff like BDSM would be; she had never been to one
before and it did pose to give interesting material for future writings.

By 8:00 PM Zoe had finished her project and started getting
ready. She went out earlier in the week and bought some clothes especially for the
night. It was a slutty version of a catholic school uniform: short plaid,
pleated, skirt, white shirt, white knee-high stockings, and Mary-
Janeish
looking high heels. Bean arrived at her place sometime
later dressed to the nines. She had on a full latex suit; it completely covered
her from neck to wrist to ankle. Zoe assumed it went to the ankle it was kind
of hard to tell because her friend was also wearing matching thigh high
stiletto boots. Bean was all black, and shiny, and extremely sexy. Her dark,
pinched eyes that hinted to an exotic heritage sitting in her porcelain
features fit the look perfectly. She looked downright perfect in her lean build
to be a dominatrix. Zoe would have never been able to pull the look off that
way. She was way too
busty
, too curvy, for latex to
look right; at least in her opinion she was.

“So Zo what do ya think of my hair?” Bean asked making
primping motions. Her hair was normally worn down long, black, and very
strait.
 
Tonight, however, she had it up
in two strange twisty things that looked like horns coming out the back of her
head.

“I was more impressed with your gear.” Zoe said finishing up
on her own hair.

“Yeah, I look good as a crazy dom. I even got a crop!” Bean
said, proudly holding the thing up. Zoe laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm.
Bean dropped the crop—which was attached to a loose belt so it hung freely at
her side—and propped herself on the arm of a chair.

“Nice,” Zoe said as she finished her hair. “What do you
think of my costume?” She stood up, hair appropriately done up in pig-tails,
and posed.

“You look like Brittney Spears in that video, but with brown
hair.” Bean said rather flatly.

“No way, my ass is way better!” Zoe stuck out her rear and
smacked it. Bean shook her head as both girls laughed before Zoe sat back down
to finish her makeup.

Each of them tucked some money and their ID’s away—Zoe’s in
her bra and Bean’s in the top of her boot—and left for the club.
 
It wasn’t far but Bean insisted on driving,
which to Zoe translated as, “I’m bringing a guy home and I don’t want to walk
back to your place to get my car,” so Zoe rode with her. They passed in front
of the club and Zoe could see people already going in.

“Man Bean, look at all the freaks,” she said, staring at
them as they drove.

“Umm, Zo you don’t have much room to talk being pressed
against the glass like that. Don’t you think it’s obvious to those people that
you’re staring at them? We are driving
really
slow
.”

Zoe sat up straight but continued to look out the window “Oh
yeah, oops.” It was then that she noticed a guy in a leather mask and pants
number staring back at her. “Hey that guy’s staring at me all weird like.”

Bean looked to where Zoe was pointing before turning back to
the road. “How can you tell in the gimp mask?”

Zoe glanced back as they rounded the corner, but couldn’t
see him. “I don’t know
,
he was staring at me though.”

“Well you were staring right back at him
Zo
,
so big surprise he noticed you. He’s probably thinking the same thing you are
about these freaks and now he is categorizing you as one of them, who
is
sizing him up like a piece of meat. You probably scared
him.” Bean laughed.

“Hey, that’s not funny. He could be someone who knows me and
is wondering if I recognized him.” Just then she realized something, “Man that
mask idea is great, he can come here all incognito like and if anyone he knew
was
here they wouldn’t recognize him. I
wish I would have thought of that. We could have coordinated and I could have
been your slave girl.”

Bean parked the car with both of them laughing.

Inside the club Zoe and Bean saw more interesting people—there
were girls painted like cheetahs, people dressed as vampires, lots of tattoos
and piercings, even people who had scars in the shapes of stars, spirals, and the
like—but most of the people were the usual club fare.
Hoochies
in too tight, too little clothing and the douche bags swarming around them like
flies. The inside of the club was fairly typical too. It was painted black with
a high stage at a far end complete with a DJ, laser lights, a huge dance floor,
loud fast music, and a lit up bar on the other side. Zoe was thoroughly disappointed.

“I bet even the decked out people don’t live a fetish life
style; they’re just one-nighters like us,” she said to her friend over the
thump of music.

“Eh, what are you going to do?” Bean was pulling them to the
glowing bar that changed color like an LED toy. “Let’s get a drink.”

After a couple of rounds—
Redbull
and Grey Goose for Bean and whatever was local and fresh on tap for Zoe—she saw
the guy in the mask at the end of the bar looking over at her. “Hey Bean, it’s
the guy from outside. He keeps glancing this way.”

Bean looked over at him. “Well I guess you didn’t scare him
away after all.” She laughed. “I’ll invite him over for a drink; like you said
he’s probably just like us, and every other faker in the joint.”

Bean stood up and waved him over before Zoe could protest.
“Besides,” she continued as she glanced back at Zoe, “I’m hitting the dance
floor so you’re going to need the company.”

The guy in the mask sat down in Bean’s vacant seat as she retreated
to the dance floor. “Where is she off to?”

“She said she’s going to dance, which means I won’t see her
the rest of the night.” Zoe rolled her eyes as she watched her friend make her
way onto the dance floor before getting lost in the crowd.

“Why’s that?”

Zoe looked at the masked man. Up close what she could see of
him was pretty nice: a little over six foot tall, cut chest, six-pack,
arms
you could melt in, and, well, she had to stop herself
before she looked directly at his dick. “Oh, never mind, let’s get a drink.”
Zoe waved away the question then put her hand out. “My name’s Zoe.”

“Nice to meet you, just call me A.” A shook her hand. His
was smooth but firm, warm in hers and familiar somehow.

“A?” Zoe asked suspiciously looking up from his hands back
to his covered face. His eyes, too, were familiar.

“Yeah, I’m kind of embarrassed to come here, but a friend
told me to do it. Long story short, I didn’t want to be embarrassed so I
figured I would wear the mask and call myself A.” He
shrugged,
the zippered mouth smiling. “This way no one will recognize me.”

“You know, I saw you from the car and thought the same thing
about the mask.” They both laughed; all of a sudden Zoe began laughing even harder.

“What is it?” A sounded puzzled.

“I just realized you’re
A and
I’m
Z.” He joined her in her uproarious laughter.

Zoe and A stayed at the bar and talked for
a couple hours.
They each only had one more drink during that time but
the previous ones before he sat with Zoe were starting to get to her bladder. She
looked towards the ladies room and sighed when she saw the horrible line.

“What’s up?” A said following her gaze.

“I have to use the bathroom but I don’t want to stand in
that line.” She squinted at the neon clock behind the bar and sighed again. “Plus
I have to go soon. I’m just going to head
home,
there
is a gas station on the way I can use if I can’t make it all the way home first.”

A’s eyes darted back and forth then down,
as though he was contemplating something.
“Can I walk you home? I
wouldn’t feel right about you going alone. I’ll even take my mask off so you won’t
be uncomfortable, so you can trust me,” he said cautiously.

Zoe stopped his hand as it went for the zipper in the back
of the mask. “Funny enough, I actually trust you some already. I know it sounds
weird but after talking to you all night I feel like I’ve known you for a long
time.” Her eyebrows came together as she considered the fact she very well
could know A, but she mentally shrugged it off since she couldn’t think of who
he might be. “No, I say leave the mask on.” She dropped her hand giving
A
a
sultry smile. “Besides, who
the hell would dare mess with some chick walking around with a freak in a
leather mask?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Funny,” A said snidely.

“Hey I’m just joking with you; I kind of like the mystery
too.” She patted his leather covered cheek. “You can leave the unveiling as a
treat when we reach my place. Kay?” She said sweetly.