| TWO |
| The long row of strip clubs stood before the three friends, and like kids in a candy store, they gazed at the sweet choices. "So?" Justin asked, his eyes bouncing around. "Which one?" Chris shrugged, looking at Lance. "I don't care, you pick." Lance squinted to get a better look. "Pink Pussycat?" he asked, a devilish gleam in his eyes. Justin smiled and headed across the street, eager to get in there, off the sidewalk where there was a very good chance they'd be recognized. While he could care less, thinking it might actually be good to let some fans see they were just normal guys, JC had reminded them to be careful, least they wanted to face his wrath later on. While he wasn't exactly afraid of JC, his lectures were tiresome, and something to be avoided like the fucking plague. Two bodyguards followed the three singers into the cub, scanning the place for any signs of trouble. They grinned, however, glad to see some action themselves on this night. Lance brushed in first, paying the cover for the bodyguards, as was a customary courtsey. Smoke hung thick in the air, and he coughed a bit, frowning. Why couldn't anyone come up with a smoke free club was beyond him. Smiling slyly, he wondered if he could open one. Oh, that would be priceless, an N Sync member opening a strip club. What would his mother say about that!! Justin pushed Lance in. "Move it!" he laughed, taking off toward the stage. He staked out a table in front, not caring if he was noticed. At least with strippers, they kept quiet if paid well. He dug out a roll of bills and grinned. He planned on having a very good time, maybe even taking one home with him, if she was lucky. Chris slid into the chair next to him, lifting his hand to order a beer. The scantily clad waitress wiggled over, bending over to take his order. "Sit with us," Chris urged, gripping her arm. He was high already, having lit up on the ride over, and this girl was something else. "Get your hands off me," she growled, yanking out of his grip. "If you touch me again, I'll have your ass bounced." She cleared her throat and smiled down at him. "Now, what can I get you?" Lance let out a loud laugh. "She told you!" Justin pushed Lance hard. "Shut up will ya?" He was entranced by the naked woman grinding in front of him, having recognized him, and the large wad of bill he held in his hands. The dancer slid closer to him, arching her back on the floor to give him just the veiw he wanted, and he responded by tucking a hundred dollar bill in her g-string. She kissed his lips lightly, and moved to the pole. "Better go easy with your money, dude." Lance tilted his head and looked around. "Why you gotta be like that, man?" Justin complained, gulping the beer the waitress put down in front of Chris. "I don't tell you what to do." "Down boy," Lance chuckled, spying a tall red head in the corner of the club, signing what appeared to be latex vaginas. "This I gotta see," he grinned, eyes wide. Chris grabbed his beer back quickly. "Mine," he said, his eyes droopy. "Getcha own." Justin ignored him, watching the girl slide up and down the metal pole. He was already peeling off another hundred, glad Lance was gone. He could be so damn bossy sometimes. "What's this?" Lance asked, picking up the latex toy. His eyes glowered in the darkness of the club, and he felt the sex radiating from her body, which was barely covered with a white push up bra and thong. Her blue eyes met his with amusement. He barely looked legal, with his innocent good looks and tiny dimple. "It's my pussy," she grinned. "Two hundered dollars and you can have sex with me, so to speak." She'd meant to rattle him off, and was surprised when he just grinned wider. Lance wasn't intimidated at all. "I'll bet I can have you for free," he challenged, putting the toy down, and moving closer. He was sure of himself, and familiar enough with the look in her gaze to know he'd piqued her interest. "Ah, cocky little guy, aren't ya?" She signed one for a patient older man, and kissed him chastly on the cheek, pausing to pose for a picture. Lance waited, a sweet ache forming in his jeans. He'd only been there for a few minutes, and his sights were set. She glanced over at him and drank him in with his tight black shirt, outlining the form of his large upper arms and tight abs, his hair obvioulsy colored, but spiked with care. He was a looker, for sure, and she grew hot under his intense gaze. "I'm not cocky," he grinned, tilting his head at her. "I just know what you're thinking, and I'm thinking the same thing." His body moved closer until she was pinned up against the wall. "So, is there someplace we can go?" She was not used to being talked to like this, boldly and forward, all intentions out in the open. It turned her on, and she brushed her lips to his. "I gotta go on first," she wispered, lust filling her voice. "You go on and sit down like a good little boy, and watch. It's for you." Hot blood coursed through Lance and he smiled cooly, backing up. "I'll be right there," he said, nodding toward Justin and Chris. "Then, I'll be right there," he ran his hand between her legs lightly, making her shudder under his unexpectant touch. The power was his, as usual, only this was a girl just as desired as he was. Moving away, he looked her over once more, so she would remember while she was performing, taking her clothes off for these other men, that he was going to have her when all was said and done. He made his way back to the table, where Chris had his head in his hands, and Justin was drinking his beer. "Dude!" Lance shouted, shaking Chris. "What up man?" Justin shook his head. "Too high. I told him not to smoke so much. He's a lightweight." He stood up, catching his stripper exiting the stage. "Lata man." Lance rolled his eyes as Justin weaved through the crowd to get to her. The house lights went down, and he strained to see the form on stage. A solitary spotlight went on, and there she was, her long hair fanning over her body, her fake breasts popping out of the tiny bra she wore, and Lance stared in wide eyed wonder. Chris grunted something next to him, leaning onto his shoulder. "Dude, get the fuck off me," he hissed, pushing him away. He didn't want to miss a beat. Her performance was erotic to say the least, and Lance felt his needs grow as he watched several men grab for her, placing money in her thong. He was excited as hell, and couldn't wait to get to her. "Chris, stay here," he warned, not liking the look in his friend's eyes. "Okay? Stay right here, don't move." Chris nodded, letting his head fall to the table. Lance dashed to the side of the stage, where she waited for him. Taking his hand, she pulled him down the hallway. He followed, amused to see Justin pressed against the woman from earlier, making out against the wall. He nudged him gently. "Chris is out of it. Don't let him leave." "Fuck off," Justin growled, returning his attentions to the girl he'd desired. "He's a big boy." Lance shrugged, continuing down the hall. As soon as she opened the door, he was on her, kissing her neck, peeling her clothes off. She tugged at his shirt with careless abandon, tearing it from him and tossing it aside. "You are so beautiful," he moaned into her, his tounge meeting hers as she unbuttoned his jeans. "You're not too bad yourself," she grinned, dropping to her knees. Lance groaned against the feel of her mouth, enclosing around him. His hands pressed against the wall, in an attempt to steady himself. His mind whirled as she sucked and licked him, and he felt himself growing close. Grabbing her up, he bent her over the small table and entered her from behind, letting his hand roam around her front, slipping inside her. He wanted to hear her come, scream in ecstacy, let herself go in the heat of passion and lust. He pumped harder as her moans grew louder. "That's it," he drawled into her ear. "Come for me." She felt his hands press against her, moving faster. The burning in her stomach rose higher and higher and she clutched onto the table. Waves cascaded over her, and she screamed in pleasure as he let go inside her. "Damn," she gasped, collapsing. Lance stayed where he was, his breath shallow, his forehead sweaty. He kissed the back of her neck and sighed. "Fuck me." "What's your name?" she asked, pushing herself up, giggling. "Ah, it's not important," he grinned, reaching for his clothes. A panicked pound on the door startled them both. "Lance!" Lance frowned as he heard Justin's voice. He flung the door open quickly, staring at his friend. "For fuck's sake," he growled, "What the hell...." "Chris is convulsing out there," Justin cried, grabbing Lance's arm. "Come on." "Dammit! I gotta get dressed. Hold up." He threw his shirt on, glancing back at the stripper. "I gotta go, I'm sorry." She nodded. "No, go, go. It's fine." Lance forced a smile, pausing to kiss her head again. "Thanks." "Lance! Hurry it up!" Justin paced, waiting. "He's out there. They called an ambulance." "Christ." Lance followed Justin out to the table, where Chris was just coming to. "Fuck, Chris. You okay?" The bodyguards were standing watch, trying to divert attention from the scene. Chris looked up, eyes glassy and a faraway look in his eyes. Lance stooped over him, slapping him lightly. "Chris? You hear me?" Lance's hands shook, and his heart thudded inside of him, fear and adreneline rushing inside of him. Justin bit on his thumb, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. "Damn, Lance. What's wrong with him?" "I have no idea. Check the limo. See if there's any of that shit he smoked left. Maybe it was laced." Justin motioned for one of the bodyguards to follow him out. "Chris, buddy? You hear me?" Nothing. His pupils stayed fixed, and Lance sank to the floor, cradling his friend's head in his lap, rocking. "Come on, man, stay with us." He grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Come on, buddy. Stay with me." |