Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Two

The room was very vast and filled up with young men and women who were all dressed to kill. The men were all smoking and chattering and drinking and the women were sipping their drinks from tall glasses and flutes with the sophistication that could only be achieved by wealth.

It was the third day of April, the first Saturday of the month, and the rich youth of Lagos society all wanted to celebrate it grandly. There were female belle dancers standing on raised platforms, all of them scantily dressed in shimmering bras and short skirts and they were all twisting and shimmying seductively to the tunes of the Eastern music that wafted forth from concealed speakers. They were all magnificent creatures, their lithe bodies swaying and turning to the beat, all to the lascivious stares of the entranced audience.

The tunes of the music changed dramatically. The lights were turned down to a dim intimate red color, and there was an air of anticipation hanging over the room. The dancing young women moved together in one body towards the main dais which was now lit up with bright lights that hurt the eyes. They formed themselves into a circle around someone who had materialized from behind the curtains, and as they danced, they spread out their arms wide which were covered with shawls. The light reflected on the materials, captivating the audience further; a hush had descended over the room.

"What is going on?" Henry Johnson demanded in a low voice to his companion, Richard.

"The main act of the night is about to begin now," Richard replied, chuckling. He pointed one long finger to the girls who were slowly executing their sexy dance. "They are hooking our attention so we can be prepared for whats coming next. Watch now, Henry; they are almost done."

And then the throng of dancing women parted, revealing a figure that stood there with the deathly stillness of a marble statue. Simultaneously, the entire assemblage in the room gasped, Henry included. The person whom the attention was reverted upon was a young guy. He was slender, and was wearing nothing other than g-string parties and a strip of shimmering red material that barely covered his buttocks. He had light brown skin that glowed with good health, round feminine hips that was greatly accentuated by his near nudity, and deliciously long legs that belonged on the catwalks.

But it was his face that held the most attraction. It was a stunning face, with the chiseled features framed by a shoulder-length black wig, a small straight nose that looked as if it had been chiseled by the hands of Michelangelo himself, exquisitely shaped pouty lips, and high cheekbones. He was the most beautiful guy Henry had ever seen.

"Wow!" Henry exclaimed, part in fascination and partly in scandalized horror.

A huge python was draped around the shoulders of the guy, and it was hissing and slithering through his chest and stomach as if it owned him. Henry couldn't stifle a shudder.

Richard had seen his reaction, and he laughed heartily, enjoying himself. "That's shocking," he said. "The guy is marvelous. He's a belle dancer that really knows what he's doing with his craft. He's more spectacular than the women dancers, and so everybody comes here to watch him dance and do his thing. I hear that he also doubles as a whore, selling himself to the highest bidder－ to the highest man or woman that is ready to pay for him."

The young dancers had flanked the young guy, and the lights had dimmed once again to a dull intimate glow. The guy danced in a synchronized move with the women, and with each twist of the sensual hips, the snake moved on him. The guy and his giant plaything moved together with perfect symmetry, one move flowing seamlessly into the next, and on the guys face was a look of total rapture, as if he was engaged in a sex act, orgasms ripping through him. Every single move executed by his incredibly lithe body captivated the entire audience who watched him with a mixture of fascination and scandalized horror.

As they watched, the guy gently unwound the snake from his shoulders, and the animal turned its head back to his neck. He emitted a low laugh before prying the animal loose from his neck and handing it over to a dark man who had appeared behind him. The sensual beat of the music changed, and became a little faster, and the dancer smiled, revealing a set of white teeth. His eyes scanned the beer-drinking crowd slowly, before swiveling to Henry with a mesmerizing intensity that almost made him squirm. He found himself looking into luminous brown eyes that were as expressionless as a china mask, and as hard.

The dancer moved forward, all eyes fixed on him, and then he stopped before Henry's table. His dancing began again, and the club lights played on him, lighting him up in different shades of color as he effortlessly did his belly rolls, backbends, a walking shimmy; he whirled like a dervish. His choreography was superb; his emotional expression was one of languid sensuality and confidence in his abilities, and Henry was so entranced, he could not take his eyes off the guy. He could swear that the guy was dancing specifically for him, turning him on, sending waves of heat through his body as he stared at the provocative hips which were encircled with the tattoo of a snake.

The sensual moves, the beautiful body, were all playing tricks on his body and his senses, and he could feel the stirrings of an erection in his pants. It was a feeling that astounded him and filled him with anticipation of what would happen if he were to meet the dancer, for he knew that what he was seeing was a hustler who was on sale and no doubt hawking his wares.

Abruptly, the music came to a halt, with the dancer turning in a backbend with perfect form. Screams filled the room as all clamored for more.

"You're wonderful," Henry said breathlessly, and the beautiful dancer smiled at him. That smile nearly made him lose his senses, and he quickly withdrew three bills from his loaded wallet and stretched them out to the guy. "Here, take this for your performance."

The dancer smiled his thanks, and as he took the money their fingers brushed and their eyes met. It was only for a brief moment but within that moment, something deep inside Henry snapped. It could be called attraction, it could be called lust, but right at that moment, he knew that this was what he wanted, this was how his body worked; he wanted to go to bed with this dancer. He couldn't keep his eyes off the guy as the guy made his way across the room, collecting tips from adoring male and female fans as they stuffed money into his palms and rubbed their hands all over his body as if they had the right to do so.

There were other delights for the night, but Henry was not interested in them. His thoughts were centered on the dancer. He could remember the moves, and that stunning face, plus the snake . . . he could think of nothing else, and when, fifteen minutes later, a girl with long lacquered nails tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a note which read: Meet me in Room 106, he was filled with elation.

"I think its time for me to go and fuck some ashewos," Richard announced, rising to his feet and chuckling. He was half-drunk, though still in control of his body, and he was now impatient to go and fuck some of the female whores before the faster guys took over the more beautiful ones." You can come too," he told Henry. "The girls are marvelous."

But Henry was not even listening to him. He was waiting for his best friend to go out so that he could go and meet the dancer whose face and body now occupied his fantasies. When Richard left, he stood up and went down the long corridor with rooms flanking it left and right and the numbers pasted above them.

Someone was waiting for him, and he couldn't pass this up.

******

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