The atmosphere resounded with hollers and cries of the rebellious crowd. People were gathered in streets, hung in windows and balconies and swarming every corner and shadow of the city.

Above their heads were strings of lights upon iron gates and trellises, making the city shine in their florescent green, red and blue. Beads fell from the sky from the many hands above the crowd. Some were normal beads that glimmered in gold paint or purple. Others were of pumpkins and bones. They were like falling rain drops of storm clouds. But this downpour was of a different sort completely. Instead of gods crying, there were mortals celebrating. It was a carefree day when the only embarrassing moments were caught on tape for later public viewing and purchase in the local video store.

The day was Fat Tuesday. The celebration was the infamous Mardi gras. Travis was among the drunkards and college youths, without a worry about college payments or the ride home on his thoughts. Another woman’s shirt rose in hopes of gaining some out of the ordinary beading through the streets.

Travis and his friends had drifted down to the city of New Orleans with enjoyment intended. It was a dream for him. It was said the city was alive; they had to discover it for themselves. His pals were long gone now; drunk and swept up with other disorientated guests of the function.

Shirts were off of both sexes, beads were dawned on every body, and the night was young. It was only eleven in the night.

In the next moment, there was a conga line winding its way through the gaggle of people. The melodies enchanted the crowd as Travis was dragged into the parading line up. A cry of “more drinks” sounded through the streets. There were no arguments. Soon, each hand was filled with one more little white plastic cup of glistening, golden refreshments.

Travis automatically drank it down. Then, his world dispersed with the pushing o the procession behind him.

He stopped. He had no idea where he was. Glinting on his chest was his spilled beverage. The cup teetered back and forth at his feet. Tom's eyes scanned the area as he tried to register the location in his debauchery. The once congested street was now cleared of any creature. The only remnant of the recent celebration was a broken cord of neon festival light bulbs; half of them were broken.

A creaking door drew his attentions. It was a woman of exotic appearances. Her hair flowed freely down her back in black waves. It was big as well; like she had gotten into an argument with the hairdryer, and it had won. Although her crowning glory was a sight to behold, it was her figure that caught his eye and send shocks of stimulation to the other brain lower in his body. Her slim form seemed to be distorted; as if it were an image one would see in a house of mirrors. The curves were placed just right and at the perfect angle. They weren’t too much or too little and as the Grim Brothers would say, it was just right. Her limbs were long and her legs seemed to extend beyond the misty layer upon the cobblestone street. A long robe pressed close to her body as a second skin. It was a sheer material; almost see through. Travis didn’t mind too much. At this point, Travis would screw her no matter what her face looked like. And besides, a bag would easily solve an unpleasant face, Travis thought.

When his gaze raised her lithe curves and assets, he was astonished at his fortune. Not only was her place pleasant to look upon, it was a wonder that a facade in its heavenly form existed on Earth. The current confusion and curiosity disappeared at this new discovery of beauty.

She strolled up to him swaying her hips to exaggeration that made him gulp and gape. Her sensuous movements continued as this mysterious woman walked around him. Travis let her continue her stalking prey routine on him. In fact, he would have volunteered had she given him the chance. When she stood inches in front of him, her dark eyes seemed to catch him with a lure of the sparkle that sparked there. Suddenly her mouth and nose were only millimeters apart. No longer could Travis resist so he reached out and grabbed for her teasing person. Unexpectedly, his hands grabbed at nothing. The sudden goddess of his dreams was gone and the commotion, one again, dominated the atmosphere of New Orleans.

Travis just stood there stunned at the experience as people shoved by him, and staggered by. A husky laugh rose into the air from no particular pair of lips. To Travis, it was a Mardi Gras vision.

But was it?

At Mardi Gra hookers show their boobies for beads.