LIFE GOES ON

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS #1:

SUGAR & SPICE

By Kimberly T.

Author's note: A few scenes were deliberately left out of the multi-part story "The Times, They Are a-Changin'…" for one reason or another; sometimes to keep an air of mystery (this author doesn't want to give away all her series' secrets yet), and sometimes because they were just too raunchy. The following scenes, left out of "Part 3: PAAARR-TEEEEE!", most definitely fall under the second category!

A faithful old Chevy rumbled into the basement parking garage of the Aerie Building on late Friday afternoon, half an hour before sunset, and parked in the Visitor's parking area. Two ladies got out of the car with their arms laden down with shopping bags, and sauntered over to the elevator and the parking garage attendant's booth. One woman, with chocolate-brown skin and a mane of luxurious black curls, flashed a smug smile and a special pass at the attendant. After he accepted the pass and made a quick phone call, the two ladies were in the express elevator and rocketing skywards, towards Wyvern Castle.

"I've said it before, but I gotta say it again," the second woman, who had the golden-tanned skin and bleached-blonde hair that came from either a life spent as a 'beach-bunny' or long and dedicated use of tanning booths, said as she set her bags down and leaned against a wall of the elevator. "This is both the most profitable gig and the weirdest gig I've ever done."

"Just concentrate on the 'most profitable' part, Gwen," the first woman said with a reassuring smile. "And remember, Linda would have taken your spot in a heartbeat if she weren't going upstate to see her family this weekend."

"Yeah, I know, she made that really clear only about a dozen times in the last four nights. But Jess, I'm still kinda surprised you're so willing to do this; I saw you after your close call last year, and I couldn't tell which one you were more scared of; the gang that had grabbed you or the gargoyle that broke them up before they did more than rip your clothes."

Jess gave a so-what gesture as she said airily, "So I was a little freaked out at first; since then, I've been educated! Didn't you read that P.I.T. website I showed you, that gave people's testimonials about how some of them had met the gargoyles, and how the one named Brooklyn showed up at their meeting? You read that, and tell me that Brooklyn ain't as much a person as either of us! So they're all people, and the ones we're seeing tonight are all guys, and that's pretty much all we need to know to give them their money's worth." The elevator slowed to a stop as she finished, "Now c'mon, 'Sugar & Spice' got a rep to maintain…"

The doors opened, and they were met by a guy who introduced himself as Owen Burnett, and could only be described as 'Soulless Corporate Flunky'. "I trust you have practiced your routine while wearing the costumes?" he inquired coldly as he showed them to their performance area, where they would wait until it was actually time for their show.

Gwen, who had snapped into her sultry persona of 'Sugar' as soon as the elevator doors had opened, slipped out of it long enough to roll her eyes as she groaned, "Are you kidding? Only for about twelve hours a night for the last four nights, nearly every moment we're not onstage at the club!" Jess had insisted on practicing as much as possible, learning every trick of the roboticized costumes they'd been given and incorporating them into their routine. And Gwen had to admit it had been a good idea; most of the first night had been spent learning how to dance entirely on tiptoe with their knees bent, and without overbalancing and falling over from the weight of the wings and tail. Then Gwen slipped back into 'Sugar' mode as she purred while flicking a finger under Burnett's chin, "Trust us, cutie, we'll give your boys a show they'll never forget."

Owen flinched slightly away from her caressing finger, and retorted icily, "For the large bonuses you two are being paid on top of your club fee, and permission to keep the costumes and use them in your club performances in the future, I should hope you would at least perform up to expectations."

Jess let her 'Spice' persona slip for a moment as she said earnestly, "We'll do our best, Mr. Burnett, I promise. This isn't just about our reputations as being the best exotic dancers in Manhattan; some of us at the club are pretty grateful to the gargoyles for their help in fighting the gangs over the last few years, and we figured this is a good way for us to say, 'thank you'."

That actually seemed to thaw Burnett out a little, though it was barely noticeable as he ushered them into the secret room inside Mr. Xanatos' private lounge, showed them how to operate the sound system they'd be using and agreed on what his cues would be for controlling the stage curtains. But he readily agreed to let the red and beaked gargoyle named Brooklyn know that the dancers wanted to speak to him after the show, so Jess could thank him personally for saving her last year.

Once they were shut inside the room, the ladies let their natural curiosity take over and explored the room's contents. The sturdy chairs that had been arranged facing the stage were of little interest, nor was the sturdy oak table nearby. But on the other side of the room… "Now this is a fun-and-games bed, not for sleeping in," Jess said as she flung the dustcover off of the bed, and flopped backwards onto the huge round platform piled with pillows. There were even strategically-placed mirrors on the nearest wall and overhead, and what looked like a pair of gymnastic rings that could be lowered down from the ceiling.

"Yeah, and check out what's in the drawers," Gwen said as she pulled open a couple of the drawers built into the bedframe and stared at the contents. "I haven't seen so many sex toys since the last time I visited The Exxxotique." Feathered wands, fur mitts, soft leather whips, blindfolds and velvet-covered restraints, vibrators, tubes of Astroglide…

"Yeah; I wonder who exactly this Xanatos guy has 'entertained' in here. You heard any stories?"

Gwen shook her head. "Not from anyone I know personally… Though Vicky did say she'd heard from somebody over at Scores, that there was this set of triplets working at Lookers that… but hell, you know how those stories go; they're mostly just wishful thinking."

They spent a few minutes in playful speculation anyway, even wondering if dinner was the only thing that had been served on that sturdy oak table, before the speaker that was built into one wall of the room crackled into life. Mr. Burnett's voice came through, as he informed them, "It is now sunset; the gargoyles will be coming into the main lounge in a few more minutes."

Both ladies immediately went over to the wall separating the two rooms, and looked through the peepholes built into it for spying on whoever was out in the main lounge. After a few minutes of waiting, their patience was rewarded, when the bachelor party attendees came tromping into the room. "Hey, check out the 'flying tiger'!" Jess hissed excitedly. "And that other guy, looks like a panther with wings; I didn't know some of these gargoyles had fur!"

"I'll bet that big purple one is the 'bridegroom' that Bluestone guy was telling us about," Gwen speculated. "And hey, that's got to be your boy coming in just now; he's the only one I see with a beak…"

"Yeah, that's him! …S'funny, he sort of looks smaller than I remember…" Her memories of him were of a huge winged beast with eyes of fire, and a roar that could rattle buildings to their foundations… Well, back when she'd been learning a few street-fighting tricks for survival situations, her teacher had said that 'fear makes your opponent seem bigger than he really is', and that first time, when he'd been saving her from being gang-raped, Jess had been terrified. Now that she wasn't really scared of him… He still looked weird, but it was a friendly sort of weird, like the first time she'd seen an orangutan at the Bronx Zoo.

They watched as the gargoyles and humans intermingled, joked and drank and played silly games just like any bunch of guys at a bachelor party, and eventually Gwen had to admit that these gargoyles seemed just like regular guys, once you got past the looks.

After a few hours spent cooling their heels, idly watching the partyers in the other room and flipping through the books and magazines they'd brought with them to pass the time, Burnett's voice came into the room again, discreetly informing them that their performance would be on in half an hour. That was their cue to get into their costumes, which they were fairly well practiced at by now, and to begin their warm-up exercises before dancing. Jess was over at the table stretching out her calf muscles when Gwen, who'd gone back over to the peephole wall while fiddling with the silver-white wig that went with her costume, suddenly gasped. "Oh… my… God."

"What? What is it?" Jess stopped her stretching and came over, looked out of another set of peepholes and gasped, "Sweet Jesus!"

"Oookay, now I can see why you like this Brooklyn guy," Gwen said, not sure whether or not she was teasing.

Jess just slowly shook her head in amazement. "Now that… is well-hung. I mean, really well-hung. I swear to God that I've never seen anybody with that much equipment…" Not even in those porn movies that Tony, the owner of the club, kept running in the 'Workout Rooms' that he maintained for those men who were willing to pay exorbitant amounts of money to do more than just look at and tip his lovely ladies. 'Spice' had gone back there only twice, when Jess thought that the guy begging for her favors might actually be worth a tumble, and only one of those times for a team-up with 'Sugar' (though 'Sugar' had gone back there a few more times; she had a thing for redheads with beards.) That was one of Tony's better points, that he didn't insist his dancers do double duty for the really big bankrollers; if they flat-out refused to let some rich sleazeball touch them, he made excuses for them and offered the clients lookalikes from the stable of girls that were hired just for that purpose. Jess continued in awe, "And he's not even erect yet…"

"God, how big does he get when he is hot-n-ready?"

After a few seconds of silence, the two ladies slowly turned to look at each other, and smiled their famous 'Sugar-n-Spice' smiles as they said in perfect chorus, "Let's find out."

The answer was: BIG. Really, really big; it was a pity they hadn't brought along a camera or at least a tape measure, because Brooklyn's erect cock had to be at least a foot long. And a helluva lot bigger around than the footlong hot dogs they sold on Coney Island; 'Spice' had to open her mouth as wide as it'd go to fit even the first three inches inside, and had to settle for just stroking and caressing the rest of his length with her leather-gloved hands. But there was no doubt about how much Brooklyn appreciated her efforts; he was trembling in his tracks, his back arched and wings half-extended while his beak pointed straight at the ceiling, and his eyes were narrowed to white-hot slits as he moaned and groaned and begged for more. And Spice complied by swirling her tongue around the tip before easing in just a fraction of an inch more, while 'Sugar' helped out by nibbling her way up Brooklyn's arm and licking at what they'd guessed were most likely his sensitive spots.

It was really kind of sweet, how at first Brooklyn had shyly stammered that they didn't need to feel obligated to give him any sort of 'reward' for his heroics, even as his loincloth had begun to tent outwards. But he'd given in quickly enough, shedding that loincloth and belt in seconds flat once they'd begun working on him, letting his cock spring free and grow even larger. Both Sugar and Spice had caressed it at first, silently marveling at its size, before Spice, who naturally had first dibs, took over the business end while Sugar explored the rest of their client/prey.

Having worked her way up to Brooklyn's shoulder, Sugar circled around behind his partially-extended wings, for better access to those large, pointed and rather nibblesome-looking ears. One hand gently rubbed against his back between his wings as she leaned in for the first nibble…

And Brooklyn ROARED, a bellow of what seemed like astonished pleasure as he came with a vengeance, ejaculating in a copious flood. Spice hadn't been expecting him to cum quite so soon, and she ended up gagging and spitting out most of it, while Brooklyn crumpled over and went to his knees in sudden exhaustion and Sugar stared at them both wide-eyed.

Spice finished wiping her mouth (the stuff was even more salty and mineral-tasting than regular cum; so much for her brief hopeful fantasy of it tasting like chocolate!) and looked inquiringly up at Sugar, who mouthed back to her with eyes still wide, 'I only just touched his back…'

After a couple of minutes of just resting there on hands and knees, panting like a dog, Brooklyn turned to look at them apologetically as he stammered, "S-sorry I… finished so fast… I-it's been a long while, and I, I wasn't expecting you to rub my crewenn…"

" 'Crewenn'?" Spice echoed quizzically. "What's that?"

But Sugar smiled knowingly as she said, "That's that sensitive spot right between your wings… right here, isn't it?" as she lightly ran her hand down it again, and was rewarded with Brooklyn's unconscious groan of pleasure as he arched his back for her. "Ohhh, you really like that, don't you?"

"Ohhh, yeah," Brooklyn moaned, closing his eyes in ecstasy again. "Ohhh, yeahhhhh…."

Still rubbing gently, Sugar leaned down and whispered in his ear, "So, tell me… how long does it take for most gargoyle studs to… recharge?"

He opened his eyes again, and they were already glowing faintly as he growled to her with what had to be a wicked grin on his beak, "Not long at all…"

Spice blinked in surprise, but then recognized the look in Sugar's eyes. Her partner obviously considered taming that massive cock to be a challenge to her femininity… and Sugar rarely backed down from a challenge…

Sugar crouched directly behind Brooklyn, trapping the base of his tail between her thighs and rubbing her costumed breasts against his crewenn while reaching around him with one hand to caress his limp and flaccid member, which began slowly swelling outwards and upwards again. She crooned into one of his ears, "What say we take this little party over to that nice big bed in the corner?"

Brooklyn needed no further urging; he surged to his feet while his tail whipped up and around Sugar's waist, and he nearly carried her piggy-back over to that massive bed. They sprawled on it together, while Spice felt herself irresistibly drawn after them, and in short order Sugar's dressing gown was tossed to one side and the snaps along the crotch of her costume were undone, and Brooklyn was proving that his feet and his cock weren't the only outsized items on his body. His tongue was at least eight inches long and tapered almost to a point at the tip, and he was flicking that tip across Sugar's clit and delving it deeply into her moist heat. Sugar was sprawled across the bed, gasping and groaning with delight, and was answered by the deep rumbling arising from Brooklyn's chest.

Since they weren't doing a 69, Spice grinned and figured she'd join in the fun by rubbing Brooklyn's crewenn again. But after only three strokes Brooklyn briefly lifted his head from Sugar's crotch to look at her with eyes blazing white-hot. A little unnerved by that gaze, Spice started to back away, but Brooklyn's tail whipped out to wrap around her waist with the speed of a striking cobra, and drag her onto the bed to sprawl beside Sugar. His tail unwound from her waist, but before she could scramble away its very tip began probing at her crotch, flicking the snaps open and… Good God, this garg had a built-in vibrator! Spice found herself joining Sugar in sprawling there groaning, rubbing her taut nipples through her costume and begging for more, please, more…

After a few minutes of pleasuring them both at once with his tongue and his tail, switching back and forth to use them both on both women, Brooklyn surged up to loom over them, his eyes burning white and his erection huge and throbbing as he growled at them, "Who wants it first?"

"Me! Me! Do me!" Sugar begged, throwing her legs even wider and all but dragging him onto her.

He roughly grabbed her hips to position himself between her thighs. Then with rippling snarl, he speared her with his incredible length, burying it all inside her with one stroke. "Oh God, so huge!" Sugar gasped as she arched her back, her eyes wide.

"Damn right," Brooklyn growled, and began thrusting, moving his hips back and forth, sliding that red-hot meat in and out of her. He pounded into her faster and faster as she gripped his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles at the base of his tail. "Yeah, you want this! And you're gonna get it all…"

In only a minute or two of such vigorous thrusting, Sugar climaxed with a shriek, and Brooklyn snapped out his wings and threw his head back, roaring loud enough to rattle the light fixtures as he was driven to his second climax. After long seconds of even more vigorous thrusting, he suddenly collapsed on top of her, his beak driving into the mattress next to her shoulder and his wings draping over them both.

Sugar was completely out of it, lying in a quivering daze with a loopy smile on her face, but Spice was feeling a little neglected, after getting even more turned on by watching the two of them going at it. She stroked the struts and suede-like membrane of Brooklyn's wing across her as she said wistfully, "Anything left for me?"

With an effort, Brooklyn lifted his beak out of the mattress-he'd speared it right through the sheets and into the stuffing-shook the scraps of satin and cotton fluff off the end, and gasped, "Sorry, I got carried away again! …But I've got something for you after all…"

And with that, he snaked the end of his tail into her, and began not just thrusting it back and forth, but wriggling it around as well. Spice gasped and arched her back as that tail worked magic inside her, tickling her very cervix as it filled her in ways she'd never imagined possible until that moment; pumping and twisting and undulating and YEEEAAAAHHHH!

When she could focus her eyes again, she found herself lying along one side of Brooklyn's well-muscled body while Sugar lay on the other side, each of them wrapped in one of his wings. Brooklyn was sighing happily as he cuddled them both, and talking mostly to himself; something about next fall and a Breeding Moon and they could draw straws to see who he flew with first, but he was sure he could take care of them both…

Spice gave a sad smile as she shook her head, but it was Sugar who got up on one elbow to look him in the eye as she said wryly, "Sorry to disappoint you, stud, but we're not the flying type. These are just costumes, remember?"

Brooklyn froze, his eyes going wide as he glanced first at Sugar, then at Spice; then he squeezed them tightly shut again as he muttered flatly, "Of course. Just costumes. I knew that. …Dammit."

Spice's heart went out to him, just a little, even though she told herself firmly that there was no way in Hell she was ever going to get into a serious relationship with a gargoyle. Sugar seemed to feel the same way; she kissed the side of his beak as she whispered, "Look at it this way; you got to fulfill a little fantasy tonight, as well as have a rockin' good time with us. That's more than your buddies out there are going to get…"

He opened his eyes again, and stared at the ceiling as he sighed, "Yeah, that's for sure. I just… Well, guess I gotta settle for what I can get, huh?"

Spice carefully got up on one elbow to look him in the eyes as she said seriously, "Someday, Brooklyn, you're going to make some lady gargoyle really, really happy. We're just not really your kind; that's all there is to it."

Then Sugar added, with a wicked grin, "But in the meantime, just remember… we also do birthday parties…!"

THE END

Author's additional note: Yep, I've invented a Gargoyles slang term for that really sensitive area on their back, right between their wing joints. We humans have invented lots of words, both clinical and vulgar, for all our own ultra-sensitive spots, so why wouldn't gargoyles? I'm thinking of adding 'crewenn' to my "Getting Biblical," the compendium of gargoyle biology and culture that I put together a while back. In the meantime, any author who wants to use the term in his or her own stories may feel free to do so, with my blessing. ~~ Kimberly Towle