Aimee: Part 1 The Beginning

She stood back away from the churning bodies in the mosh pit listening to the band play. Her hair, cut short in the front only to fall long and silky in the back, almost to her ass, framed her face. Her make-up dark against her soft white skin, blacks and reds with purple shadow over her eyes created a vision of worthy of any and all including the reigning leader of the supposed undead. Aimee was dressed in black leather pants and combat boots, black leather vest covering a purple skintight tee. She loosened and unbuttoned the vest allowing her rock hard nipples to spring forth, straining against the tee, seeking air and freedom. Ever since she had gotten her nipples pierced they had been extremely sensitive to the slightest pressure. She thought of the way it had felt when they were pierced as she absent mindedly twisted and tweaked each one, pulling then taut and then releasing them.

This was the reason she had moved to San Francisco. The clubs and the entire Goth sub-culture was what she sought out. She was looking for a place that allowed her to be herself without having to answer questions that she may or may not want to answer. A place that accepted her for what she was and what she wanted to be. She slid a hand under the tee stroking her tight stomach looking about the room to see if anyone was here that she knew. She had spent the day working for one of the local underground papers and now was more interested in scoring a couple of jays and kicking back than anything else. Maybe, if the mood hit her she might look for a bed partner but that would be the icing on the cake.

As she looked about the room she thought about how she left home to come here only a couple of months after her 18th birthday and her graduation from high school. She had been an honor student; straight A’s since the 4th grade - always early with her work but a social outcast. Her style was hers and hers alone, she never sought to be part of the popular girls groups and she shunned the advances of most of the boys. Her tastes ran a bit more to the dark and mysterious as well to the softer nature of her own gender.

Only after the confrontation with her father over her choice of attire did she fully realize just what her father had expected of her after graduation. Feeling his hot, alcohol tainted breath on her neck as he tried to grope her she realized that she needed to get away and start a life on her own before she found herself in a situation she would not be able to control. Calling her brother, she made arrangements to move to San Francisco and stay with him and his girlfriend until she got to work and found a place of her own. That was two years ago and now she had a good job as a reporter/editor of the Voice and did well enough to have a decent place of her own.

As she ran these and other thoughts through her head she saw someone that she knew would have what she needed, and she made a beeline into the pit to get a hold of him.

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Later, listening to AFI in the background, Aimee fired up the first of the two jays she had scored for the evening. With her favorite candles burning around her she laid back into the tub of hot water and slowly inhaled the strong bitter smoke from the joint. Closing her eyes she held it in then slowly allowed it to pass through her pursed lips like she was passing it to an unseen lover. Between the joint, the hot water, and the rich aroma of the candles she started to relax as she felt her mood mellow and her muscles giving up the stress of the day. Taking another hit from the joint she held it deep inside her lungs feeling the burn before letting it out.

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