The eye of the chrysalis - Closed for Syr Luna

Orlaith Maguire was not having the best evening of her life. Her boyfriend, Adam, had just asked her to move in with him. She should have been radiantly happy but instead her mind violently opposed the idea. Just the thought of it made her feel claustrophobic. In many ways it made sense, since she already spent a few nights a week at his apartment. Her own tiny walk up was a typically over-priced rental that she had barely furnished. They had been dating nine months and were at the point where it made sense to commit or part ways. Orlaith regarded him across the table in their secluded booth, totally blindsided. Adam had a softness in his expression that she'd never seen before and the evangelical gleam in his eye of a man pricing up engagement rings.

"Don't you think we're moving... kinda fast?" She ventured, an apologetic smile on her face.

"Any other time I dated a girl this long, I'd say you were right. With you Orlaith, it's different. I've never felt this strongly about a girl. You're the whole package."

Orlaith noted that he still hadn't used the 'L' word and it irked her more than she expected to know he was proposing cohabitation because he had dispassionately decided she checked enough boxes to be worth committing to.

"I don't know Adam, I'm sorry. I haven't even been in the US that long. I don't want to rush into things and then wind up regretting it."

He reached across the table and took her hand, bestowing upon Orlaith a look of such adoration that she knew at exactly that moment that she couldn't keep things casual with this guy any longer. She didn't want to move in with him either, so that left option C ya. Adam opened his mouth to speak again but Orlaith hastily forestalled him.

"Look Adam, I can't tell you how flattered I am that you want things to get serious with us like this. You're a wonderful guy and at another time in my life, I'd jump at the chance. But I'm young, living in a new country, I have no responsibilities besides my rent. I just don't think I'm ready to give all that up yet. But I completely understand that you're at a point in your life when you want something more, something with a future."

She watched his face crumple as Adam realised what she was saying.

"Now wait a minute-"

"I'm sorry Adam, I really really am. But you asking me this has just made me realise how not ready for it I am. I'm not going to commit to anyone any time soon."

It took another half an hour for Orlaith to make Adam realise she was serious and not about to change her mind. He did tell her he loved her, which was about the worst time he could have picked to say those three words. Orlaith hated the way it felt like emotional blackmail rather than a simple declaration. He told her he would never hurt her, unconvincingly told her he understood and insisted he'd be around if she changed her mind. When he finally left, Orlaith felt drained and teary. She vacated the booth, not wanting to sit there any more and unwilling to commandeer so much space when she was alone. The bar was buzzing with Saturday night revellers and a group of students swiftly piled into booth, glad to sit down.

She made her way to the bar and a short black guy offered her his stool. Orlaith paid him no more than cursory attention, thanking him curtly to dissuade conversation in her softly lilting Irish accent. She knew she was a hot little thing and tonight she had dressed to thrill in a tight dress that gave her tiny frame curves and towering heels that elevated her from 4ft 10 to something approaching average height for a woman. Beneath the dress she wore lingerie that she knew Adam liked, chosen to give her the best shape beneath her dress. She knew she looked good and therefore saw the chivalrous black guy's attention for the base lechery it was. Orlaith knew she was very lucky to be so beautiful but it meant that she never knew whether men liked her for her personality or simply because she was hot. They played the politician game; asking her all about herself and simply pretending they had lots of common ground, agreeing with everything she said just to get laid. She had caught a few guys out like that in the past, throwing ridiculous suggestions or random sentences into her conversation just to see if they were listening to anything she said.

Orlaith flashed her ID at the barkeep. Despite being 25, with her tiny frame and flawless pale skin she looked no more than 17 or 18. She leaned over the bar, lifting one foot onto the boot-rail that ran around the bottom of it to make herself taller. In doing so she exposed a great deal of one slim, toned white thigh.

"Jamesons please, a large one, on ice with a splash of soda!" She yelled the order into the man's ear, the noise in the packed bar deafening.

After three failed attempts to get him to comprehend her accent, Orlaith gave up.

"Whiskey! For the love of God." She pointed emphatically at a bottle on the back bar. It was a brand she'd never heard of but what the hell. The bartender raised an eyebrow, still thinking he hadn't heard her right as apparently New York women didn't drink whiskey. He poured her some over ice and then picked up a soda gun, his thumb moving across to a button bearing the Pepsi logo.

"No! Don't you dare!"

Exasperated, the bartender dropped the soda gun and made to toss away the drink.

"No don't do that! Oh fuck's sake." Orlaith smiled radiantly to make him understand that she wanted the drink, waving a bill for good measure. She squinted at the number on it, cursing American money for the thousandth time. Orlaith had been handling dollars for long enough now to be comfortable with them but when she'd been drinking she could get sorely short-changed if she wasn't careful.

Finally, triumphant, Orlaith had a generous measure of neat whiskey in her hand. She took an experimental sip, closing her eyes and sighing as it burned her throat and warmed her chest on the way down. She was past caring that she was sat alone in a busy New York bar and that she'd have to make her way home sometime before sunrise. All she cared about now was forgetting.

Orlaith Maguire had been born in Galway to a publican and his wife. She went to university in Dublin to study business and finance, an unlikely subject for a girl but one in which she excelled. She had done a gap year working in a Wall Street firm and when she graduated they had hired her. Now she was clawing her way up the corporate ladder and fielding attention from her male colleagues to the point where they thought her a frigid ice queen. Orlaith didn't care, she wasn't there to be liked. At least nobody could accuse her of sleeping her way to the top, though plenty of her superiors had made it known that fucking them wouldn't hurt her progression any. Orlaith was stashing her money so that she could buy an apartment of her own once she was an American citizen. She didn't want to rely on any man to support her, conscious of the way her father domineered her mother and kept a tight hold on the family purse strings.

The Basics

Friday Evening~5 PM

"Aye, yo! Mikey! You gonna meet us at the spot later?"

Dark eyes focused on the group of imbeciles shouting loudly from near the bottom of the off ramp. One shoulder went up in a barely there shrug. Not that any of them noticed. That group was too busy talking shit about passing broads to really pay any attention. They had only offered because where Mikey went, straight girls followed.

At least, that was how it seemed.

Mikey didn't really dig the club scene, anyway. Bouncing from one bar to the next, trying to pick up women of dubious reputations? What the hell would be the point? Most of the women who looked hys way thought that there was something between hys legs other than what they found. It always ended with tears, screaming and one very pissed off boi.

'Uh uh. No fucking way am I doing that shit this weekend.'

The thought wasn't a new one.

'Better to chill at home and go through my closet. See what's there that I haven't tried on yet.'

The lone figure~slim hipped, short, chocolate, muscular~finished gathering hys gear and headed for the lone vehicle left on site~a black Expedition. After tossing various bags, belts and hats in the back, it was only a matter of moments before the SUV pulled out and left the empty work site, behind.

Saturday

Of course, nothing ever went the way things were planned. To start the ball rolling, Mikey's ex had begged hym to meet her up town at the newest little bar/club. She would not accept a "no" nor a "hell no!" and once it became apparent that she wasn't going to leave hym be until she got an agreement, the boi caved.

So Saturday afternoon had been spent shopping. New jeans, a proper button up and sweater combo, new Timberland boots. After all, the bitch had already seen every thing Mikey owned. Fresh clothing had to be bought. By the end of hys little shopping spree? Hys wallet was about three hundred bucks lighter.

'If I don't get some ass after this? It's gonna be a problem.'

Home again, but Mikey couldn't relax. A shower had to be taken, boxer briefs and a binder had to be slipped into. Hair had to be tended~ all before the clothing could be tried on. The boi wondered, not for the first or even the thirtieth time, if real guys had to go through all of this shit before they went out into the world.

'Hell no....and it sucks...and isn't the least bit fuckin' fair!'

An hour later, Mikey was on the road.

Two hours later, the boi walked into another crowded bar, pissed off at the world and in dire need of something strong. Slipping onto a bar stool, the boi waved to the bar tender and gave hys order.

"Three double shots of Stoli. Line 'em up and keep 'em coming."

It was then that Mikey saw the tiny, pale skinned woman making her way to the bar. Being a gentleman, hy slipped from the stool and motioned for her to take it. Of course, she automatically assumed that some sort pf perversion was about to ensue. The look she gave hym made that perfectly clear. Nothing for it. Mikey shrugged it off and looked away, at least until she spoke.

Her voice was light, lilting and VERY accented. Watching the pantomime between the woman and the barkeep was vastly entertaining and the boi caught hymself, more than a time or two, attempting to hold back laughter. When the woman finally got her drink~whiskey neat~ Mikey leaned over and aimed for her ear.

"All I caught was Jamesons. That is what you wanted, right? So tell me, where you from 'cause your accent...is....yeah."

Mikey shifted slightly to the left, hys wide, dark eyes focusing on the woman's face. She was pretty, if one was into white meat. Until this moment? Mikey hadn't thought to ever see the appeal. This girl, though? She was stacked~slim and curved with legs that went on forever and gorgeous hair.

'Bet her skin would look translucent next to mine...and damn, how tall is she? Cuz I know I ain't that big.'

Orlaith inhaled abruptly as a strange pair of lips approached her ear, a husky and self assured voice slipping down her spine like an ice cube.

"All I caught was Jamesons. That is what you wanted, right? So tell me, where you from 'cause your accent...is....yeah."

She shot a look sideways and took in the young man's intense brown eyes, his skin flawless, lips full and sensual. She had never been attracted to black men before, had always been a little awed by them. This guy wasn't much taller than she stood in her heels however and his tone was playful rather than lascivious. She dropped her guard a fraction and afforded him a friendly grin.

"See! I knew I said Jamesons loud and clear. I've no clue what this gut-rot is."

Her recent emancipation from monogamy was intoxicating Orlaith as much as the liquor. She decided it couldn't hurt to flirt a little with this guy and take home a number that she wouldn't call.

"I'm from Ireland, Galway. Name's Orlaith." She shot him a shy smile from beneath her lashes, aware that she was appearing forward, a pale pink flush breathing life into her alabaster complexion beneath a fine dusting of light freckles. She took another pull on her whiskey and nodded at his shot glass.

"So what's your poison?"

The woman smiled, a brilliant flash of pearly white teeth that caused Mikey to flash hys own grin in return. The woman's lilting voice, tinged with just a hint of some unknown emotion, replied cheerfully. Mikey had to chuckle. Rot gut? Well if one was used to the smooth almost peaty taste of Jamesons, nothing else would be close. At least not state side.

"Yeah. Jamesons was pretty clear. It was the rest of it that was hard to catch!"

The boi waited, as the woman took her shot and then turned startling eyes upon him. She sounded flirtatious, friendly, almost too happy and Mikey wondered what had caused such a dramatic change. After all, just a few minutes prior, the cute little pixie girl had been ready to bite hys face off. Tilting hys head slightly, he caught the fresh spate of words as she introduced herself.

"Orlaith? A very pretty name. I'm Mikey. From the small town of nowhere's ville. Moved to NYC a couple years ago. As for my drink of choice? Stoli. Straight up. Shots. But no worries, let me get your next drink."

Mikey leaned over the counter and motioned for the harried bar tender.

"Hey could you get me another shot of Stoli...and a double shot of Jamesons, light ice, just a bit of soda?"

The boi reached into hys back pocket, grabbed hys wallet and pulled a twenty out, laying it casually on the bar top. The bartender grabbed it up and hustled away, returning a few minutes later with another shot for hym and the drink for the lady. Mikey turned and presented it to her with a smile.

"Here you go. Hope I got your recipe correct."

'Oh yeah, she's pretty...and probably straight as hell. A waste of time and cash.'

Orlaith took her drink from him, smiling her approval and thanks. The whiskey was tasting good, augmented by new freedom and the last drink had slipped down way too fast. She resolved to sip this one, taking a mouthful before placing it resolutely back on the countertop.

If she had been sober, Orlaith would have noticed something off about this guy. Certainly she would have been more surprised by his flawless complexion and if she had put more of the picture together, taking in his small frame and soft voice she might well have become aware of his androgyny. But she was halfway to wasted and wanted to have a little fun. This guy wasn't some towering predator that she had to be wary of, he was a well dressed young man who was small built enough to make her feel safer than she should have done.

Once more she had to lean in close to him to make herself heard. The cologne on his collar exuded a fresh smell that was overlaid by his own scent. He smelled exotic too, his ethnicity exuding from every pore and suffusing her. Having not been this close to any guy but her ex in quite some time, this intimate proximity was enough to get her mildly excited. Her lips moved close to his ear, bumping against the soft dark flesh as she swayed slightly on her stool.

"So why did you move to NYC? Tell me about yourself."

Orlaith realised she was out of practise at this. She didn't want to ask anything too personal, so she made the question as broad as possible, allowing him to answer as much or as little as he chose.

She lifted her glass and took another swig, tilting her head to present her ear to him.

'This is getting...old.'

The thought came and went, as the pretty woman leaned over and asked a question into the shell of hys ear.

"So why did you move to NYC? Tell me about yourself."

Mikey's head tilted slightly. It was obvious to hym that the woman was well on her way to tipsy and most of what was told to her would be a vague memory by morning. So, Mikey opted for truth. Which usually wasn't hys way, at all. Especially with straight women who wouldn't understand the type of person they were dealing with. Not the whole truth, but enough of it.

"I graduated high school at 16, attended a vo-tech school for a year after that...you know to learn a trade? And then started bouncing around the country, trying to find a spot where I fit in. Worked a lot on road crews, doing paving in the summer time, some construction gigs. Good money, if you have the training for it. I do.

Fitting in, it don't seem like much, not when you are a pretty woman with a winning grin and some intelligence. Me? I ain't any of those things. I am just Mikey. So when I found a good contracted job, with a reputable company based in NYC? I jumped at it. After all, my home town didn't have very many ethnic people. I never quite fit there, any way."

Mikey gave an eloquent shrug, allowing the motion to speak on the rest of it while finishing the shot of Stoli.

"NYC is a great place to live, you know? All kinds of shit to see, do, visit. All kinds of job opportunities and the best part is~no one knows me here. Not really. I mean hell, I have been here over 4 years and only my ex girlfriend, and my job, knows my full name."

Two full shot glasses were placed on the bar before Mikey, another glass filled with Jamesons and soda was set down next to the pretty woman. The boi fished another twenty of hys pocket and laid it on the bar top. Then dark brown eyes focused on the woman seated beside hym. Hys voice was soft, husky, starting to slur. Too many shots.

"How about you? What brings you to our fair country?

The boi leaned in, ear cocked to catch her story . Obviously, she wouldn't tell anything of import, not to a person she didn't know. That didn't matter. Mikey wanted to hear that sexy accent once more, even if the woman politely informed hym that the moon was made of green cheese.

'I am definitely going to take this one home and fuck her until she cries.'

The thought brought a wide smile to full lips. After all, Mikey didn't have the proper equipment for a straight woman...but that was why they invented toys.

Orlaith would have paid for the next round but he got their first, ordering more drinks and then handing the bartender another bill. She vowed that the next drinks would be on her, well aware of what many men expected after buying a couple rounds. She disliked the feeling of indebtedness and the notion that he might perceive her as some pretty girl who didn't want to buy her own drinks.

She listened to his reply and filed it away for future reference, answering his own query as circumspectly as she could get away with. The whiskey was going down way too swiftly.

"I did a gap year on Wall Street and came back to work when I graduated." She shrugged and attempted to bridge the societal chasm she'd just opened with the working class black guy. "In the UK you don't need family money to go to college, you can take out loans. I pay a small percentage of my salary each month towards the loan."

She of course knew that educated and intelligent were two different things. Orlaith also knew that in the USA you needed money or a scholarship in order to study. So her statement was meant to suggest that if her new acquaintance had had the same opportunities, he might have chosen a more academic career.

Orlaith returned his smile and wondered to herself when she should try to get out of here and make her way home before she got too drunk to do so safely. Perhaps this guy could be persuaded to help her find a cab.

"So how come you're here alone?" She asked him, too far gone to give much thought to social niceties like not asking strangers pertinent questions.

'I don't want her to think I am just trying to get her drunk so I can get laid. I don't like drunk broads...'

The thought marched across the boi's mind. True statements had that tendency. They announced themselves like a trumpet blowing and then waited for the boi to acknowledge them before they went on their way.

Mikey grinned slightly, amused at the turn of hys mind. No one else gave their thoughts a personality. At least no one the boi had ever met in hys twenty plus years on Earth. Finally, Mikey refocused on the pretty girl beside hym, giving her hys full attention as she stumbled over her experiences on getting to America. It was almost laugh worthy. Orlaith was under the mistaken impression that Mikey's family had no money. The woman earned points though, for being sweet enough to not make hym sound like an idiot.

"So how come you're here alone?"

The boi cocked hys head to one side, gauging the woman's interest in hys answer. Her eyes were at half mast, her body loose, relaxed. With a wave of one hand, Mikey beckoned the bar tender over and leaned up to order two cokes, no alcohol. The bar keep grinned at hym and wandered off to fix the drinks.

Once he returned Mikey threw a ten on the bar and gave hys attention to the question she had asked, giving into a quick internal debate as to whether or not the woman wanted brutal truth or a pretty lie. Again, the boi opted for truth.

"These are just regular soda. Figured we are both well on our way to tipsy and I don't know about you, but I hate being drunk in public."

Mikey grinned and then answered Orlaith's query.

"I didn't start the evening alone, actually. My ex girl had invited me out. Wanted to see me. Of course, we are exes for a reason and so...I left her back at another club when she reminded me what some of those reasons were. I came here, mostly because it ain't my usual type of place."

Mikey took a quick gulp of soda and grinned at the petite woman by hys side.

"I know you didn't start your evening alone. I noticed you when I first got here, all cuddled up in a corner with someone who gave off the...she is sexy and MINE so don't look vibe...but I see the gentleman is no longer about. One wonders if you will be able to make it home okay."

Another grin.

Orlaith nodded sympathetically as he spoke about his ex. There at least they had some common ground. She had actually been surprised that Adam had left her here alone. It would have been just like him to cause a scene by insisting he saw her home. Plus, she knew he hadn't been happy about leaving her there drinking, surrounded by men, many of whom had seen her ditch him.

Fuck him. I came to the states alone. I'll do what I want and go where I damn well please.

She took a long pull on the soda, grateful for the way it began to clear her head. Buying the soft drink earned her new acquaintance far more trust than he merited at this stage. Orlaith however knew how close she had come to just getting wasted and being reckless.

"I know you didn't start your evening alone. I noticed you when I first got here, all cuddled up in a corner with someone who gave off the...she is sexy and MINE so don't look vibe...but I see the gentleman is no longer about. One wonders if you will be able to make it home okay."

She was disarmed by his quick smile, failing to note the desire in it. Orlaith's eyes narrowed and she frowned at the recent memory.

"I dated him for a while and he wanted to get serious, live together. I wasn't ready for that. I haven't even been in the US that long, I don't want to be tied down to anything."

She paused, noting how his grin broadened at these words. Orlaith was tired of being sensible however. All she had done her whole damn life thus far was study and work. Plus she had never kissed or slept with a black man. She was curious about him, what his moves would be, how he would taste and most importantly, whether the rumours about black cock were true. Certainly if porn was anything to go by they were all hung like monsters. Surely even this little guy could be packing something impressive.

Now was the time in her life when she could experiment and have meaningless flings.

Why not now?

"So..." She let the syllable hang in the air, moving close to him once more so she could purr into his ear above the music. "Now that you're not trying to get me drunk, what are you going to do with me?"

Mikey hadn't expected the sweet little piece of ass to be quite so forthright. Quite frankly, it was a nice change of pace from the usual bullshit. The boi grinned widely and leaned in, allowing full lips and warm breath to tease a delicate ear lobe.

"Well the plan is for us to sober up, just enough to get where we are going safely. After that? There should be lots of moaning, screaming, whimpering and cursing....oh and possibly bleeding."

The boi shrugged lightly, giving the woman a slow once over with deep brown eyes, taking in every curve, every freckle. One hand rose, unerringly, to the back of a pale neck and squeezed slightly, blunt nails trailing lightly over pale flesh before the hand drifted away.

"Of course, I could lie to you, tell you nothing will happen. Give you the bullshit about being a gentleman. But you see, I ain't a gentleman...and something will happen...most of the night if I have anything to do with it. Eventually, you'll sleep. Eventually, you'll leave. I won't say that you will be walking straight, but you will be walking."

A wide, wicked grin, one that brought a dimple to the corner of the boi's smile.

"And if you say no, right now, there won't be any hard feelings. No harm, no foul. Won't say the same, once we get half way sober and head for the hills."

A hand drifted back, caressing a bared arm before stroking the side of a pale face, moving upward to tease a pretty curl from the mass of hair that drifted loosely 'round the gorgeous gamine expression. The hand grabbed, tugged lightly, released and the boi settled back with a low laugh, dark eyes locked on the female next to hym.

"So, now you know what I plan on. What is your take on it?"

Mikey emptied hys glass and motioned for two more, placing another ten spot on the bar top. The bar keep hurried over, grabbed the money and the empty glasses, filling them with fresh ice and more soda before plopping the drinks down in their previous spots.

Mikey picked up hys refreshed drink and leaned in, whispering into the dainty shell of Orlaith's ear.

"If I am going too fast, just say so...but you can't claim later that I didn't tell you what I was about."