Author's note: The basic outline of this story is drawn from a true event. I have embellished it for the entertainment I hope it provides the readers.
Recently I had gone through a rough break up with my long time girlfriend of four years. I thought she was the one I would be spending the rest of my life with so it was a major shock when she dropped the bomb that tore our relationship apart. It was a long sad month of wallowing in self pity before I recovered enough to even think of returning to the singles scene. The truth was that I was horny and masturbation was not satisfying anymore.
The desire to feel warm flesh under my hands again. To feel soft lips pressed against mine; my dick pounding into a hot pussy was taking over my thoughts. Shaping my actions. The break up was traumatic and I hadn't had sex in over 2 months. I was ready to find out if Toy Caldwell, aka -- Marshall Tucker, was right when he said, " When I kiss the lips of another woman I'm gonna forget all about you."
I wanted back in the game. I am a young guy, 27, and on the fit side. My 6 foot frame is 190 pounds of, I wouldn't say chiseled, but cut muscle. I have brown hair to my shoulders and blue eyes. I knew there was a woman out there who's attention I could attract.
Coming to the realization that I needed to get laid, I planned for a scouting mission the following Friday. After getting home from work I killed time doing yard work. Being summer and daylight until late evening, it was after 8 o'clock when I finally went inside. After fixing myself something to eat it was 9:30 before I got in the shower. Once I was squeaky clean and dressed it was almost 11:00. Perfect timing I thought. The night club action would be just cranking up by the time I got there.
I called a taxi to take me down town to a club I was familiar with to dance and maybe pick up a chick for a hot night of lusty sex. As I waited for the taxi to arrive I dropped a hit of Mescaline a friend had given me for just such an occasion. I was ready to party. Little did I realize that this trip would open doors of perception previously unknown to me. Or that I would walk through those doors, changing my life forever.
The taxi dropped me off at the club around 11:30. It was packed with young men and women, all enjoying a primal ritual of dance and drink. I sat at the bar and ordered a drink, but before the bartender could serve me a cute little blond asked me to dance. We hit the floor and stayed for two songs before the band slid into a slow tune. I wasn't feeling it so I asked her to the bar for a drink. She declined and went to sit at a table with her friends.
The bartender had placed my drink on a napkin in front of the stool where I had ordered my drink. As I sat there sipping my drink the thought crossed my mind that I had been given a bum hit of Mescaline. My friend that turned me on to the stuff told me it was organic. That it could take close to an hour to start feeling the effects. It had been close to an hour since I took it and I was not feeling anything unusual yet.
I was almost finished with my drink when I started feeling queasy. Then I got sick to my stomach. I dashed to the restroom, barely making it into a stall. With a loud retch, I emptied my stomach of it's contents. I sat on the throne; my head spinning, eyes closed. My body was trembling.
Suddenly the restroom door opened. The room filled with a cacophony of music from the band playing in the dance hall. There was an explosion of purple color behind my eye lids. As the door closed on the music from outside my ears filled with a loud buzzing sound like an electrical transformer shorting out.
All sound was magnified. I could hear the guy's breathing as he pissed at the urinals. It sounded like a waterfall as he washed his hands. I stood up to open the stall door. I just looked at my hand on the latch trying to figure out why the latch looked painted on the door. Fuck, the Mescaline had kicked in with a vengeance. I was super high.
I washed my hands and had trouble stopping myself from standing there lathering the soap in my hands. It felt almost erotic as I stroked my soap covered skin. I didn't dare look in the mirror.
When I got back to the bar all the seats were taken so I ordered a drink at the waitress stand. Looking around I saw that the woman I had danced with earlier was sitting talking to her friends. I walked toward their table thinking to ask her for another dance. I thought, "She looks pretty hot and she is friendly so I might be able to score early."
She saw me coming and stood up before I got there. She was smiling, holding her hand out. I set my drink on their table and we hit the dance floor again. Things were definitely looking promising; until we started dancing. I was having trouble focusing. The music was dissonant and over powering my senses.
I didn't know if it was the stage lighting or the drug, but everything had a lavender tint to it. The only way to describe what I was seeing is to say everything looked crystalline. As the dance progressed time seemed to dilate. I don't know how long we danced before I just couldn't take anymore stimulation. Without explanation, I bolted. Not from the dance floor, but from the club. I had to escape the stimulus. The Mescaline was kicking my ass.
Once outside the club I went to the far end of the parking lot where there was scant lighting and sat on the curb, hidden behind the parked cars. I could still hear the music from inside the club, pounding. I held my eyes closed, taking in the psychedelic display through my lids. Every time I opened my eyes my surroundings distorted wildly. I don't know how long I sat there. Maybe an hour or it could have been minutes, I'm not sure.
I finally got paranoid about being discovered sitting on a curb of a parking lot in a near catatonic state so I got up and started walking. My head had cleared somewhat and I was able to function in a reasonably sober state. I didn't want to return to the club. I thought a walk might calm me down a bit so I headed out of town; I guess thinking I would walk the 10 miles home. I had walked maybe a half mile when I decided to try hitch hiking. Several cars passed me by before a Chevy sedan pulled over.
What looked to be a very petite woman got out of the passenger side and waved me to her. When I got to the car it was indeed a woman. Even in my drug addled condition I could see that she was very pretty. She smiled showing bright white teeth behind her red lips. I watched her lips move sensuously as she asked where I was headed. I had trouble understanding her but was able to grasp that they were headed right passed where I wanted to go.
