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“Hey Miss!” Booker said with a raised voice over the irritating accordion dance music “Miss!”
Even though he didn’t want to attract unwanted attention by shouting out the lamb’s name, she seemed to take no issue to making herself known. The deep blue felt of her dress floated on every perfectly timed move of her body. Her toes balanced perfectly on the technical line between a trained ballerina and a jovial child as the fluidity of her lithe arms transfix every onlooker, including Booker. Finding himself staring, he quickly shook his head, stuck out his hand, and shouted “Elizabeth!”
“Oh this is wonderful! Come dance with me, Mr. Dewitt!” Elizabeth grabbing his out reaching hand, a warm buzz not too much unlike the effects of Shock Jockey shot through his body. If it wasn’t for a sign that read “Father Daughter Dance” next to the platform meeting his gaze, he would have became trapped within her wonder once more.
“I don’t dance,” he said firmly. “C’mon let’s go. Besides, I don’t think we are the right demographic for this anyway.”
“Who cares, it makes no difference!” She flashed a smile easily comparable to sunshine all while her hips swayed like a metronome. “And why? What could be better than this?”
All the defenses the trained killer had acquired were fading fast under one girl’s enchanted gaze. He had to think quickly
“Well...” he spotted an airship. “How about Paris”
Body coming to a halt, she grabbed her ample chest in shock. “Paris? I don’t understand- how could we get there?”
Her ecstatic response almost made him believe the lie himself. “Well it’s where that airship is going.” Her smile rubbed off on him as he playfully shrugged his shoulders. “But if you wanna stay and dance we could-”
She grabbed his lapels in a flurry of excitement. Booker’s words became trapped in his throat by the connection.
“No let’s go! C’mon let go!” Her words were muddied by joyous laughter. “Let’s go right now!
Releasing the nearly paralyzed Booker, she moved her grasp to his calloused left palm, holding on tight and pulling him off the platform into the light sand of the synthetic beach.
Swiftly turning back to Booker, she held onto him once more. “I’m out! It’s hard to believe but it’s true!”
Snared within her embrace, he could feel her delicate fingers on the small of his back, her body softly swaying to the new song, and her happy radiance warming the skin on his chest. And from her position, she felt his scruffy chin on the crown of her head, his muscled arms supporting her small frame, and his thumping heartbeat, taking note about just how few layers there were between that human heart and her human emotions. Licking her lips, she pushed herself off, eagerly beginning to lead him in another direction.
“Um Elizabeth, the First Lady Airship Bay is-” Booker was silenced as a lone feminine finger was placed over his all too kissable lips. Again her hips shook down to the floor to the beat of Albert Fink’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun as she picked a lock to a seemingly abandoned worker’s house and pulled him in.
“Elizabeth, where-?” This time being cut off by Elizabeth’s own two waton lips, she shut the door by nearly shoving Booker’s back into it. Literally thrown aback, he was frozen in a moment of electric kisses being planted on his conductive skin and rhythmic limbs tangled in his static ones. Something wasn’t right. This was only supposed to the be an escort mission. He had to resist.
Pulling Booker down by the lapels, she brushed her lips over his ear and whispered “Come dance with me, Mr. Dewitt.”
His shield was broken.
"Call me Booker."
If there was a lust vigor, he must have swallowed it. Given passage, his body found the rhythm to a song he was sure wasn’t meant to be written in this decade. His mouth opened to accept the girl’s prodding tongue. It was obscene the way that her fingers ran through his hair and tugged at his neck bandana to nip away at his jawline. Reciprocating, Dewitt pulled off her own yellow necktie in one quick motion, sent a few buttons of her dress shirt scattering to the floor, and attacked her collar bones with a sexual ferociousness, making her squirm under his touch. His well trained hands made quick work of the many strings of her corset and it soon followed the buttons and bandanas to floor.
Moaning loud as the rough palms of her escort met the sensitive flesh of her breasts, she discovered his own jacket and shirt buttons, making them disappear faster than a magician could at a Duke and Dimwit show. Her tiny claws scratched away at small patches of light chest hair, her tongue later replacing the hands. The now out of work fingers found a new job of undoing his belt buckle. She could feel her passion growing exponentially as the thick strip of leather escaped the dress pant’s loops one by one. Still being in rhythm to the music, Booker’s pants fell away from his moving hips and Elizabeth shimmied out of her skirt, leaving them with only under garments and footwear.
Placing his hot hands on her waist, and clasping her hands behind his neck, Elizabeth slowly lead them into a box step towards the closest mattress cot while singing “Oh girls just want fun...Oooh girls just wanna fun,” in a painfully teasing sensual tone.
The man dipped her down onto the bed, kicked off his shoes and socks, and climbed atop her like a lion waiting to pounce. His tongue made slow, metered wet rings around each of her raised pink nipples, staccato kisses down her lean belly, and moved his fingers along her inner thighs with the expertise of a pianist.
He heard her whimper as he leaned back to work off her high boots. As he unlaced to the beat of the music, a husky voiced growling hum to the tune left his smirking lips, making the girl expel anxious moans. She knew the moment was coming. Lace by lace, boot by boot, sock by sock. Slowly his fingers pulled away at her petticoat, the final piece of wrapping to the present.
“Booker,” she moaned. He never felt more aroused in his life. “Can you do something for me?”
“Anything,” he said in a low, hungry tone, continuing to lay kisses around her navel “Absolutely anything.”
“There’s some Shock Jockey to the left of the bed. Drink a bit. Just a sip.”
Being too distracted by her body to ask questions, he did as he told. Just a sip. Just a buzz.
“Now place yours hands on my knees.” He did.
“Now shock me.”
“But I’ll-”
“Just do it!”
He couldn’t deny the obscenely desperate plea, so following her instructions, he let out a bit of the fake electricity. She screamed out in pleasure.
“Stinging knees,” she panted. “Shock Jockey electricity works wonders on the nervous system.” A drunken smile spread across Elizabeth’s face as a lustful one spread across his.
“You don’t say?” he growled with a raised eyebrow.
Releasing the vigor once more, he moved his powered fingers up to her thighs, getting harder as she wriggled and writhed beneath him, letting out passionate sighs. The beast-like glimmer in his eyes gave hint to what was next, yet her body still wasn’t ready for it.
He slipped an electrified finger inside her. The scream of ecstasy almost made him come at once.
Though the music stopped long ago, he found his own rhythm, in and out. And soon his tongue joined in, sucking her sweet until he thought she might actually explode.
“Now Booker!” Beads of hot sweat were forming around her brow as she clawed at his boxer shorts frantically. “Now! Oh god please now!”
Moving his fingers to where his tongue had been, he stuck himself inside her. Their thrusts were in same rhythm, their heartbeats were at the same meter, their moans were in same key. And their mind blowing orgasms were in perfect sync. The man collapsed on her chest, the girl stayed still, taking pleasure in feeling his warmth within her.
With Elizabeth looking at him with her large, innocent, smiling eyes, he sang with a tired, amused tone, voice cracking, “Oo-oh girls just wanna have fun..."
-----
They stayed there for a while until finally getting dressed and going out onto the boardwalk.
“The Bird?” asked Robert Lutece
“Or the Cage?” responded Rosalind
“Or perhaps the bird?”
“Nothing beats the cage.”
“These two again?” came Booker. “How do-...nevermind.”
Elizabeth beamed at the necklaces. “Look at these! They are amazing! Which one do you like more? This one or this? The bird is beautiful and the cage is somber but there is really something special about it. I just can’t decide.”
The necklaces both looked the same to him, but the Lutece’s were what he was really focusing on. They were staring at him and Elizabeth as though they were a science experiment. Hoping they wouldn’t put together the sex hair and flushed cheeks, he hurried the decision.
“The one one the right.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I love it! Let’s go daddy-o!” she said giggling, using the phrase she heard from a tear and embraced him in another hug.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the disappearing Lutece’s raise an eyebrow to them. A look of realization spread across their faces simultaneously.
“Misbuttoned shirt,” Robert whispered to his counterpart.
“Ruffled hair,” Rosalind came.
“Not to mention the sweat, dilated pupils.”
“And she just called him daddy,” Rosalind couldn't help but chuckle.
“But he doesn’t know?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“But he will know.”
“Yes. Just not soon enough.”
“Has sex, had sex, will have sex.”
“Are related, were related, will be related.” The two could no longer contain their laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Booker shouted to them, slightly annoyed
“Why ask what’s funny?” asked Robert.
“When the more delicious question is when will it be even funnier?” she mused like it was the punchline to a joke Booker didn’t know was being told.