Knightsbane ♘

✡ Nerosquare 🖤

    Chetanna stared at the tall glass of alcohol irritably, the pumping pop music loud in his ears, the pulsing disco ball, tormenting his eyes with its hypnotic dim light. The air was filled with smoke, severely intoxicating; once in every while the gray knight would peg his nostrils with his lanky fingers and hold his breath, as though a the foul stench of death rent the atmosphere. The unholy strippers revealed the nakedness of their sinful bodies, taunting the nobly faithful Chetanna with seductive maneuvers. The whole club nauseated him, made him want to puke. He panted for air in frustration and glinted at Ermacora, seated opposite him. The ruddy Sicilian seemed to be having quite a nice time here, puffing cloudy circles with the thick fat Cuban cigarette in his mouth, at the same time, sipping a tall glass of beer and smacking the lustrous oily butt of a sexy blonde stripper.

     The dark irises of the Italian soon caught Chetanna's vexing glare.
     "You do not like the club, fratello?" Ermacora said with a smile of guilt.
     "No!" Chetanna did not return the smile.
     "Ahh, but Nerosquare is the biggest resort in London. It's the dream of every one to visit here."
     "We could have visited the amusement park... or the main square, or the restaurant...Nerosquare's a massive place. Instead, you choose a nightclub."
     "Do not get me wrong, fratello," Ermacora's grin widened when the stripper sat on him. "We're only here for the mission, we've got to make it look natural?"
     Chetanna sighed, the blonde stripper was winking at him but he got disgusted the more and childishly turned away.
    "Ahh fratello...at least have a sip. Nerosquare makes the best of beers."
    "I don't drink!"
    "Then a cigar?"
    "I don't smoke."
    "Ahh, then at least feel a woman. Nothing more pleasurable than that, fratello."
    "I'm engaged."
    "Do you have an excuse for everything?"
    "No."
    "Oh come on, fratello. Engaged doesn't indicate boredom. Have some fun. Hey, Brownie!"
    Chetanna couldn't be surprised that Ermacora knew the strippers by name, it must have been at least his hundredth visit here. Brownie...a mouth watering goddess of African ancestry was summoned from the darkness, her skin glowing like a chocolate bar, smeared up in sensory oils. She was tall and perfectly sculpted, with hair darker than ebony and crystalline eyes. Her face evoked a wildly rare beauty, impossible to rediscover.

Chetanna had sulked in disgust all along but when his eyes beheld Brownie, he marveled at such deifying beauty. She cat walked seductively toward him and stood akimbo, spread her legs widely apart.
    "Signore Chetanna, meet Brownie...the pride of Nerosquare, the goddess of your fantasies who'd send you screaming in a matter of seconds. No man has lasted so long...while with her. Oh, she's a paragon. Brownie? Make my friend happy," Ermacora heralded naughtily.
    The brown skinned girl made her way nice and slowly toward the seated Chetanna. She flaunted stunning acrobatic skills, touching her forehead with the tip of her toe while standing on the other foot. Chetanna's blood rushed to his face, he was nervous. She climbed on him, resting both arms on his firm chest that bulged out of his suit.
   "There's something about you Chetanna..." she whispered in and licked his ear. "...that makes me just like you. Black guys are really big down there. And I'm sure you are...I'm sure you'd be a good boy."
    She began to wiggle her rotary waist in cycling motions when Chetanna stopped her.
    "I can't," he murmured.
    "Why?" she said. "Oh no wait...are you a virgin?" she exclaimed in excitement.
    "No, not that. I'm engaged, and I love my spouse with every last drop of blood in me. So I can't. You're an amazing woman but...I just can't."
His words shattered her heart, tore her apart and unleashed a dull gloomy emotion in her. Never had any man said no to her.
    "Is she prettier than me?" Brownie said with one last hope of a smile, getting off Chetanna.
    "Yes," he returned her smile, yet only completely quenching the flickering little hope in her. With a plastic smile forcefully woven on her face, Brownie muttered,
    "I understand. You're in love."
Chetanna noticed a tear drop of 'worthlessness' trickle down her eyes. Not once, had she ever been resisted and so it was a blow to her ego, her reputation. Brownie ran off in full tears.
    "The hell's wrong with you, fratello?" Ermacora was vexed. "You sure are bad business."
    "But I told you, I'm engaged."
    "Oh, would you shut the hell up? Everyone's engaged! It doesn't make us sinners if we have a lil fun once in a while?"
    Both knights, gray and blue glared at each other, the situation was beginning to frighten Ermacora's blonde whore.
Just then;
    "Hey you punk ass!" a hoarse baritone voice, extremely rich in masculinity roared from behind. "Are you harassing my girl? You making her feel like shit? I'll make you shit!"
He was a brick wall of a man, a burly bouncer with the air of a bulldog, wearing night shades and navy blue blazers.