YRKB
01-12-2011, 02:11 PM
They're wild. And they're just kicking off.
Dom has leaped over the the other other side of VIP section's velvet rope onto a patch of the vast, under-lit dancefloor, attracting some alert and bemused expressions from the clusters of people behind him, and is now thrusting in our direction at the rate of knots to the Hip Hop track sounding out across the club, drawing her in majestically with his hands.
I manage to rip my eyes away and relocate them to Gina, mouth half agape. She's rising from the plush bench we're sitting on, rolling her back with sensational skill as she sucks up the last of her Peach Champagne. Once done, she slams the flute down on the low table in front of us, her jewelled arms shooting up just as quick into the air, as her dress rides dangerously high to her crotch. She gyrates for a good few moments and then allows herself to be drawn across to her dance partner in a strange mime, compatible with his own rope-pulling motions.
Then they are both on the floor.
The rest of us sit, a reflection of the same stunned face, watching from where they left. It's nothing new - still though, as always, a shock to see. A brilliant, outrageous show of opulence. I whoop my considerably weak appreciation in vain, trading a gormless smile with everyone else before we turn our attention hurriedly back to the twosome.
Both have commanded a space of their own, their colours changing with the sequence of flashing lights under the transparent surface they are moving on. Dom is on his knees, head thrown back as he shimmies - his mouth open in a broad, mute scream of emphatic joy. Gina shakes, a rich blur of long auburn hair and shine just before him, her back to his front, amazonian on her 4 inch studded heels.
The beat drops again.
He snaps to his feet and wrenches her into him, and with her manicured hands gripping back on his broad hips, they pump in perfect rhythm to to bass. Their backs arch in and out, fixing their figures into a solid 'S' and then out to upright. Both are beaming at each other, enthused by the synchrony of their double act. Gina breaks the gaze to wave over at us, but we are unable to respond by the time Dom flips her round and begins sliding down the length of her svelte frame.
She watches him lower and then, once again, is taken with the music - her hair spilling across her face with the circling of her neck and snatched up high on her head, held between her balled palms. The variety of moves she works into the rhythm, in what seems to be perfect harmony with the madness he is doing below her - thighs flailing, head rolling between his hands, gripping both sides of her stomach - is a sight to behold. And they're now holding the gaze of almost the entire club.
As the track comes to an end, the freestyling spills out to something a little more loose and even more unusual. The expressions are an art form of their own. The DJ himself looks apologetic when he has to mix out the track - throwing them a celebratory thumbs up sign.
Dom hurls one back, Gina strikes a gargantuan pose - blows him a kiss, and quaintly allows her shallow-breathing boyfriend to lead her off the floor. She gestures at one of us to pour her another.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown
Dom has leaped over the the other other side of VIP section's velvet rope onto a patch of the vast, under-lit dancefloor, attracting some alert and bemused expressions from the clusters of people behind him, and is now thrusting in our direction at the rate of knots to the Hip Hop track sounding out across the club, drawing her in majestically with his hands.
I manage to rip my eyes away and relocate them to Gina, mouth half agape. She's rising from the plush bench we're sitting on, rolling her back with sensational skill as she sucks up the last of her Peach Champagne. Once done, she slams the flute down on the low table in front of us, her jewelled arms shooting up just as quick into the air, as her dress rides dangerously high to her crotch. She gyrates for a good few moments and then allows herself to be drawn across to her dance partner in a strange mime, compatible with his own rope-pulling motions.
Then they are both on the floor.
The rest of us sit, a reflection of the same stunned face, watching from where they left. It's nothing new - still though, as always, a shock to see. A brilliant, outrageous show of opulence. I whoop my considerably weak appreciation in vain, trading a gormless smile with everyone else before we turn our attention hurriedly back to the twosome.
Both have commanded a space of their own, their colours changing with the sequence of flashing lights under the transparent surface they are moving on. Dom is on his knees, head thrown back as he shimmies - his mouth open in a broad, mute scream of emphatic joy. Gina shakes, a rich blur of long auburn hair and shine just before him, her back to his front, amazonian on her 4 inch studded heels.
The beat drops again.
He snaps to his feet and wrenches her into him, and with her manicured hands gripping back on his broad hips, they pump in perfect rhythm to to bass. Their backs arch in and out, fixing their figures into a solid 'S' and then out to upright. Both are beaming at each other, enthused by the synchrony of their double act. Gina breaks the gaze to wave over at us, but we are unable to respond by the time Dom flips her round and begins sliding down the length of her svelte frame.
She watches him lower and then, once again, is taken with the music - her hair spilling across her face with the circling of her neck and snatched up high on her head, held between her balled palms. The variety of moves she works into the rhythm, in what seems to be perfect harmony with the madness he is doing below her - thighs flailing, head rolling between his hands, gripping both sides of her stomach - is a sight to behold. And they're now holding the gaze of almost the entire club.
As the track comes to an end, the freestyling spills out to something a little more loose and even more unusual. The expressions are an art form of their own. The DJ himself looks apologetic when he has to mix out the track - throwing them a celebratory thumbs up sign.
Dom hurls one back, Gina strikes a gargantuan pose - blows him a kiss, and quaintly allows her shallow-breathing boyfriend to lead her off the floor. She gestures at one of us to pour her another.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown