Sera and Vodka Tonics

I was participating in the opening of a group show at a very respectable gallery in Los Angeles, all black and white photography taken with the Holga camera. The Holga is a cheap, medium format 120 film toy camera appreciated for its low-fidelity aesthetic.I had quite a collection of nudes, particularly feet. (What can I say, I am a girl who enjoys a variety of feet.)
It was the night before the opening and there was a premier reception for the photographers and buyers. I decided to go alone as sometimes these opening are tedious and I wanted to see what kind of networking I could accomplish. I got dressed and left for the gallery.
Forty-some minutes from closing I arrive late. I enjoy this as well as coming and going as I please. As I walked in the door I could see there was a heavy rotation of hipsters and art locals, most of them on the drunken portion of their evening, laughing and talking in fast motion. I did my best to make my way over to the bar and ordered a very stiff gin and tonic which I finished pretty fast while skimming the room for a familiar face. I then walked over to the end of the bar and ordered another and began to follow the work on the walls, drink in hand.
I was standing on pause admiring a piece on the last wall when a small light hand brushed in circles over my shoulder. I turned and it was Sera this girl I had met at a show and befriended 3 years ago. We don’t see each other as much as I would like to. It had been about 6 months since I had been in contact with her and she had some amazing little dirty feet that I had photographed.
She said “I can’t believe you used that picture!”
Her glass was almost empty and she had a blush of pink in her cheeks. The kind of pink
that comes from one sip of wine too many.
I smiled with flirtation and said “Why? I love it, you were so adorable.” Sera takes the last sip of her pinot noir and says “I just never thought that you were serious when you said you were going to use some of those pictures from that shoot.”
“Well you don’t see what I see and as you can see, you are pretty amazing!” I say with confidence. Sera and I have been on this flirtatious tournament since we have met but have never executed any of it, until this night. She turns around to look at the piece on the far wall once again which bares her name, but no one knows it is her. I am staring at the back of Sera’s head, admiring her long blond hair. Ordinarily I am not attracted to blondes but for some reason I am always making room on the plate for Sera. “Let’s go somewhere else and get a drink “she says with a demanding excitement. “Ok” I say and she turns to me and grabs my hand and we walk out the door.
Outside it has began to get chilly. I say maybe it is a little to cold to walk so far maybe we should drive. Sera turns to me with her eyes wild with blue and points across the street, “Let’s go there then.” She is pointing at the strip club down the street. The look I give Sera at that moment was probably priceless and cool and I say “Fine”.
At the door a tall slender Russian named “LEV” takes our identification but waives our entry fee. Inside the club it is dark with navy blue lights that line the walls. In the corner of the room cliques of the Russian mafia sit and watch the girls as they turn and glide across the catwalk topless with little imagination to leave for the bottom. The site of this makes me want to switch from gin to vodka, my love and knife. Sera feels this vodka craving and orders us both vodka tonics. “I have a fascination for Russian women” I say. “I know, the men aren’t bad either” Sera says. We smile and cling glasses. I take out a twenty and ask the bartender for change. He hands me all ones. “Let’s go sit by the stage” I say. We get up and find a place to sit on the east side of the stage. Sera crosses her legs and takes off her shoe and nuzzles her foot in my lap. She does this and doesn’t make eye contact with me while she sips her vodka tonic and stares deeply into the girl onstage. She knows that I am excited and she is torturing me. I pretend also that I am not fazed at all with her dirty little foot with black toenail polish nestled between my legs.
I dig into my pocket and take out the wad of cash and put into Sera’s hand. Nothing makes me more excited then watching a woman put money in a beautiful womans thong strap and nothing makes me more turned on than thinking that at the end of a hard night of work she might go out the next day and buy herself a pair of nice shoes with some of my hard earned cash.
Sera is smiling at the dancer as she leans in and sways into Sera’s hands as she puts some money on the stage for her. She looks at me for approval and I squeeze her little toe and take a sip of vodka. The dancer looks like a Russian Asia Argento (actress and daughter of Dario Argento a Italian film maker, writer well known for his work in the Italian giallo genre and for his influence on modern slasher movies) and she is dancing barefoot taking turns on her tippy toes. With every turn she takes I can see a little dirt on the bottom of her foot and I am excited.
No one would ever think that this is the kind a thing that tugs a vibration through the hood of my clitoris and throughout but it does. The Russian Asia presses her toes against the floor spread out and hard and I finger the dips between Sera’s toes taking drinks of my vodka tonic and staring Asia in the eyes. This goes on and on till the end of the song and I am wet between the thighs.