Babylon

The dream of anyone in Noriah North would perhaps be to enter Babylon without going through the line, presenting a VIP card. It was almost like having a celebrity pass. But it was not our case, as we would enter through the service door.

The Babilônia nightclub was simply gigantic, taking up an entire block. Parking was downstairs, underground. But only those who had the VIP certificate had the right to park there.

With elite patrons, since admission was almost the price of a kidney on the black market, the place had women of all types “hunting” for comfort with the bank account of a rich man. And, on the other hand, men who were looking for beautiful, hot and famous women.

We lived close by and our best friend worked there and we had never set foot inside.

Salma had worked there for many years. But my friend was very correct and never considered giving us free passes, not even through the entrance where today she had decided to go against everything she had told us for years.

My curiosity was piqued. I knew that Salma was a dancer. And of course, from what she told me and from photos in the media, I more or less imagined how things worked there. But I always dreamed of seeing it all live and making sure that the women who danced didn't do shows afterwards, as my friend claimed not to happen.

Salma and I were very good friends. But I believe that if she went out with someone for money, she would never tell me.

We entered through a small door at the back. There was a lot of movement in and out: arrival of goods, especially drinks, as well as people coming in and out, I think from security guards, bartenders , dancers etc. The place employed hundreds of people.

We entered without even being noticed. We passed through a narrow, well-lit hallway with dark walls, and Salma swiped her magnetic card, unlocking the big door in front of us.

There the turmoil was even greater. People everywhere, shrill screams and various smells mixed together.

- I'm going to the dressing room. – she explained. “And you're going to go straight down this hallway. - pointed . - Go down the stairs and at the end there is a door. She handed over the card. – Pass the electronic lock and you'll be at the club.

Ben quickly took the card from her excitedly:

- And you took years to bring us here... - He rolled his eyes. “Your life is going to be hell after this, you bitch. I come every weekend.

- Hey, it was just that easy because today is Friday. And you were lucky that the owner of the whole fucking thing is here. Hence all this madness. Otherwise, it's security everywhere. Now they are focused on protecting Mr. Casanova. – she explained. “Because except for him, nothing else matters.

- That piece of bad way. Ben smiled, clapping his hands.

- Piece of everything... Mainly meat... When I look at it it reminds me of steak. - Salma sighed.

- Hmm, little hearts coming out of your eyes. He's beautiful. – Ben continued.

- It already has an owner... In fact, not just one.

- I already hate it. - I said sincerely.

The two started to laugh.

- Do you hate Hector Casanova? Ben laughed amusedly. – He's just perfect.

"A traitorous bastard, from what our friend just said," I shrugged. - Bigamy is a crime. And betrayal is the worst thing a human being can do.

- Do you know Heitor Casanova so well, Babi? - Ben mocked.

- Of course I do... From where she knows Bon Jovi. “Salma has destroyed the rest of my dignity.

- Okay, two against one is not enough. - I went out while taking the card from Ben's hands, who showed it without remembering that we were intruders in that place, almost criminals.

I went along the corridor, against the flow of people coming the other way, being followed by Benício, wanting to take the card from my hand as if it were worth gold.

- You know Bon Jovi has been here, don't you? I remembered Benicio.

- Yes... In 1980? – he provoked me. – I think Heitor Casanova wasn't even born yet. So Babylon didn't exist, honey.

I went downstairs and looked at him before swiping the card at the door:

- It's been eight years, Ben. He didn't come to play...

- He came to see Babilônia with his band, on a weekend that he played in Noriah Norte. He rolled his eyes . “You've said it a thousand times. Open the fucking door of joy, Babi or I'm going to freak out and send your Bon Jovi to the fucker.

I arranged the black hat on his head, which was slightly askew:

- I will step where one day my idol set foot. I took a deep breath.

- I just want to see Heitor Casanova, honey. The rest is rest. Being able to say that one day I breathed the same air as that hottie.

I swiped the card and the door swung open, leaving us directly beside one of the bars.

I tried to open it again, from the inside, but it wouldn't open:

- There's only one way ticket, honey. He took my hands .

- It's in God's hands.

- And this time he will, my friend.

The bright, colorful lights that roamed outside were also inside. The glazed boxes were located at various points in the place, at the top. One of the bars was almost the size of the entire Hazard, our favorite little bar , which was a block from our apartment. The other bar, a little smaller, faced the other side of the dance floor.

In addition to all the drinks, there were artisanal draft beer in different flavors, made by the Babilônia brand itself.

The dance floor was huge and had a not-too-large stage at one end. The DJ was at the top, on a kind of suspended stage, made of glass. It was all absolutely technological and breathtaking.

Darkness was offset by colored light. The techno rhythm took over the place.

Above, narrow cabins, which could only be accessed by the elite of the elite, with more than ten security guards along the access stairs. From there, the dancers could be seen from the front, without having to look up and perhaps cause a stiff neck in the neck, as if they were on the bottom.

- Gone, friend. Ben pulled me onto the floor.

- I need to drink. I shouted to be heard.

- Go there... I'll wait for you here, Babi.

He started dancing alone. I went to the bar and spent more than ten minutes thinking about which beer I would try. I ended up getting a chocolate one with pepper. I was curious about flavors.

I drank the cold and tasty liquid. The taste was as wonderful as it was exotic. I could take ten more of those. Mild, but you could smell the alcohol. Certainly for keen palates. I was poor, but the kind of person with a refined palate, rich.

The cup was emptied in a short time. And when I realized, I was getting another one. The choice this time was cherry. Damn, who ever had the privilege of drinking cherry beer ? I.

I couldn't drink any more, or I'd end up with my friend Salma's card. It would certainly be deducted from her salary later. Although I don't think she would mind if I tried a ... Mint beer .

- You'll get drunk this way. – the bartender handed me the third glass, laughing.

- I don't think so... It seems to be low in alcohol. – I shouted to be heard, not realizing that the same person handed me the glasses.

All the bartenders and bargirls wore black pants, with a matching vest, dress and white shirts underneath. Clothing was embroidered with the name of the place.

- I'll give you half an hour and you'll be dancing naked on the floor. – he assured.

I started to laugh:

- Thanks for the tip. I'll take it into account.

- When you're naked on the track? - laughed.

I nodded, downing the last glass, which already made me dizzy a little.

I went to find my friend, who was still dancing alone in the crowd. And it wasn't hard to find a thin young man, not very tall, with a red plaid blazer, bright blue pants and black military boots and a beautiful hat on his head. His long honey-colored hair, braided, moved as he danced to the music.

I hugged him from behind. He turned around and we started jumping, glued to each other.

- This is just perfect, Babi.

- As far as the drinks... I drank chocolate beer with pepper... Do you have any idea?

He kissed my lips:

- It doesn't taste like hot chocolate.

- Because the last one was mint. - I started to laugh. - Feel. I kissed him again, letting him taste it on my tongue.

- It's sweetened. He narrowed his eyes , grimacing.

- You need to prove it, Ben.

- There at the bar or on your lips, Babi? He laughed sarcastically.

- At the bar, you fool.

He took a while to come back. I kept dancing. The songs were nice and the atmosphere perfect. Soon Ben came back and we started dancing sensually, like we did at home for fun. In a short time, some people gathered around us, curious about our dance.

I never imagined that our choreography of those who had nothing to do on weekends at night would be so successful. And when I saw it, my friend was surprised by a man of almost two meters, pure muscles , who kissed him without asking permission.

Geez, he would destroy my Ben. She was at least a foot taller than him. And if his dick was proportionate to his height... Ben was literally fucked.

Before long my friend disappeared into the crowd. Artificial smoke filled the place and the dancers entered the transparent boxes, cheered by the maddened public. A new song has started. The lights were in different colors and very clear reflectors were fixed on each of them, which began to dance according to the rhythm.

They wore sort of narrow white cloths that covered part of their bodies, completely shimmering in gold. As if they were full of tape. Did it have a name? If it had, it was certainly leftover fabric or something. I recognized my friend Salma, dancing beautifully on the side.

They danced for about five minutes and the audience never stopped screaming and applauding. They really were perfect, both in the choreography and in the clothes.

Suddenly, complete darkness. Sirens, like police sirens and flashing red lights were present. It was all like that, around five minutes.

Then the lights came on, completely illuminating the place. And a stage came down from above, with three poles for pole dancing. Three simply wonderful women, with the same clothes, shiny and glued to the body, took their places and started a show that I've never seen anything like it.

As they followed the rhythm of the music, dancing beautifully and in sync , one of the boxes received a man, wearing only a pair of skintight black pants, showing his muscles tensed as he danced.

The shouting was general. And honestly, I didn't know where to look. The man was perfect, but the women's show did not disappoint.

The middle one caught my attention. In addition to seeming to know more than the others and showing that she was absolutely skilled at what she did, she had a lot of confidence. She was tall, thin, and had long, artificial-looking blond hair tied in a ponytail on top of her head.

Soon the song ended and they were gone, leaving the audience completely crazy. A while later and the other girls returned to their transparent boxes, including my friend Salma.

It was all very fast and exciting. But my head soon began to spin and my bladder was asking to be emptied immediately.

I walked out of there, the excess lights dazzling my eyes. There were so many people... Everyone beat me, unintentionally. I saw the lighted sign indicating the toilets in the distance and staggered a little.

I stopped, unsure if I could make it there. Well, the bartender told me I'd be completely drunk.

I looked ahead and saw a sign: “PRIVATE – NO ENTRY”. Was it a dream? Or she was so drunk she was seeing things. An exclusive toilet for whoever had that magic card? That place was perfect. Even peeing in peace the elite could.

Turns out as soon as the door opened and closed automatically, I realized it wasn't a bathroom. It was a narrow fucking staircase that had no end.

I tried to open the door, which was locked. Why was there no way to swipe the card from the inside? Where was the box where the magic card was placed?

I quickly climbed the stairs. If I couldn't find a toilet I would pee on my clothes.

Why didn't a sign saying "private" have a toilet? What madness. You couldn't even hear the music from there... As if it were soundproof.

The bottom of the stairs led to a T-shaped hallway. And I could have chosen either way to go, because they were both absolutely the same. I went right. Because on the left, just me and my life.

At the end, another corridor. Was this a fucking maze? I didn't have a living soul to help me.

What if I got lost there? Wasn't it just a nightclub? Why so many corridors and doors with cards?

I heard some sounds and followed there. I stopped immediately when I saw a man leaning against the wall, with his pants down, while a woman, on her knees, was sucking him madly... And it was... The blonde in the middle of the pole dance. He was even wearing the same clothes. What the fuck!

The sounds were his moans. She was almost naked and he had his eyes closed. I tried to get out unnoticed ... But I couldn't.

- What the fuck are you doing here? he asked, unable to tuck his cock into his pants when she pulled her mouth away, standing up.

I stared at the woman, completely bewildered. And his erect cock... Fuck, fuck, a thousand fucking times!

- Sorry... I... - I tried to justify the unjustifiable.

- Answer my question. – he was emphatic and rude.

The man had green eyes and well-groomed hair. The beard was neat. Dark hair, fair skin. So tall he was maybe a foot taller than me.

"Could… keep… Your…" I pointed to his penis.

He quickly pulled on his pants, bewildered.

- Answer now. Lost your tongue? the blonde asked.

- I just got into the wrong place. – I justified it.

- You work here? - he asked.

- No... It doesn't work. So... Do you have a card like? – she looked at me.

- I... I don't have a card. I hid my hand behind my back, squeezing Salma's card hard.

If anyone found out what she did, I knew she would be in trouble. And if my best friend lost her job for my foolishness I would never forgive myself. She could barely get me a job, let alone help her find one.

- What part did you not hear? I want to know why you're here. Didn't read the PRIVATE port? Are you illiterate?

- I read... Private... You... Disqualified asshole. I'm not illiterate... I just wanted to go to the bathroom...