She's No Angel
Velma Kelly, one half of the hottest ticket in Chicago, exited the stage in a state of total ecstasy. Her skin was a bright red shade and it stood out prominently with her shimmering dress. She breathe in and out so quickly her chest didn't appear to move at all. Her palm was sweaty and she was ready to scream and she did. She screamed, she remembered, while she was on stage, while all those lights where flashing in her eye. She screamed almost as loud as Roxie screamed.
"Oh baby, we're hot," Roxie Hart whispered to her. "They love us." The other half of the show held her tight, she smelled familiar to Velma, like an old evening breeze long ago.
She was on the verge of tears, or something, and Roxie this close felt so good. "Yeah, they love us, baby," Velma replied still holding Roxie, still being held by Roxie. Roxie was so good to her, so good. "You're hot Roxie. You're the hottest thing in this town since..."
"You?" Roxie almost laughed, she pulled away from Velma then came back, this time to her mouth, with a kiss. She was rough and hard and it didn't surprise Velma, it caught her off guard but it didn't surprise her. Roxie was no angel, though she looked it. She was a devil, a devil in a shimmering dress.
Velma's hands danced over Roxie's skin, over her wiry frail arms and small breast. Roxie pushed her against the wall, her hand slipping beneath her dress and touching her in her hot velvet places.
She screamed and moaned and sang a note, because Roxie was so good with her hands. Her mouth was over on of Velma's heaving bosoms and Roxie was so good at that too.
Roxie, Velma thought, was as good as it gets, but she was no angel.