The doldrums in the room catered of stale beer and cigarettes. The putrid irony of sprayed vomit across an Ansel Adams knock off almost seems neo-hipster.
What rundown room this week with pissed on sheets, no clean towels, fuck, no towels. I stand looking forward, content with the reflection before me. It has taken long to get to this feeling, not that of a seething self loathing. Not a single blink of the eyes they begin to sting, blurry. I clear the deepest blue of my eyes, no man, no woman. I’m pleased with my eccentric captivity.
My thoughts wander in manic prose. I write, I paint, I paint a mosaic manic manifestation of labels, in a mix that does not dilute but can mix harmoniously separate. A much better mix than the master manipulators still trying to force feed vanilla boredom and stale drip coffee.
Here I stand in front of the abused mirror, damaged from the obvious of previous tenants rants. Arguments that titer on the humorous cause of the sheer immaturity and ignorance of them. The laugh track plays along.
We all know of our future destination on this night. My two best friends sit on the edge of one bed in this one room shanty. Were all decked in our thrift store bought or lifted hipster garb. Black skinny jeans, converse practically worn to disintegration. We don our favorite band t’s, mine of course, Hunter Valentine. We finish off with some strap and attitude, “what’s tonight?” I barely utter the statement before Dee let’s out her signature growl,
“how bout a fight?”
Dee is one of my best friends. Most excitedly different, so of course I would be drawn to her. We all sit here in this assholes project overhaul just waiting a moment longer in hopes of not showing up too early and losing stud points.
Nothing ever happens here, well except sex in public, drunk during church or the AA meeting high. More sex, stoned at the local Denny’s drinking too much dollar coffee and eating greasy fries with ranch. Can’t forget the occasional setting of fire to the local bus stops, for no other reason than just being able to do it.
If you’re lucky they may have some sort of gay, “family” event to attend. Hopefully though not an all ages event cause then you feel like you can’t be yourself, can’t be a total dumb fuck drunk. Tonight though we are lucky, there is an event.
Dee is always naturally pumped and as such just wants to kick someone’s ass. Kinda don’t blame her with the shit she has gone through. You would think Dee to be a scuzz, but she is quite attractive. A soft Hispanic princess with edge. She wears her hair razored short all around her head except the very top where she sports a subtle pompadour. She adorns her look handsomely with a fuck you attitude. Tonight she rocks an L7 tee that is snug but not too much so. Only a mere hint at a gender that’ll just keep you guessing. The jeans she wears skinny of course with the back pockets laying just right across her ass. I catch myself staring on occasion.
My other best friend, Twat, yes that is the preferred name, can only be described by the cliché, butch. I prefer to describe Twat as ruggedly handsome. She doesn’t care no how. The way Twat sees it, she’s getting more pussy than you, you’re just hatin and got your own problems. There are times though she is too dangerous following the pussy goods. On one occasion Dee and I had to drag her bare ass through a thorn bush as we pulled her from a first floor bedroom. She had been muff diving on a well known lawyers wife and the asshole was on his way home. Occasionally they still bump.
I’m Burgess. I’m a little bit of everything, I’ll always keep you guessing. For now I’m just hanging half ass on the window sill waiting with the others. My uniform tonight I include with my signature white belt, remembrance.
I quit smoking a while ago so I have noticed I have become a more attuned listener. I no longer have the constant worry of the next nicotine fix. My concentration on what matters now. My hearing with the ex bitch definitely all selective though. We all shackle up our gear and head out.
Standing there for awhile we finally get to the front of the line. Dee and I decide to fuck with the door girl. It’s an all women’s dance and the door bitch appears to be questioning Twats gender. I’m thinking that by now this binary dance shit is obsolete and derelict. You would think our “community” would by now understand that separation only furthers separation of our common goal of equality.
This oversized garage joint with blue paint peeling at the edges and ancient disco ball tries hard to pull at retro techno 90’s chic. Perfect place though to drop a dose. I’ve been sober now for two years though. I scan the place and notice Twat has already distracted herself with probably the sleaziest of patrons. You know, the kind you take home for only one night, put a bag on it and push into a cab. Dee and I learned a while ago to not intervene, “rescue” her. Can’t rescue someone not wanting to be rescued.
Dee and I continue to mess with the door girl. She’s cute and starts asking us questions hinting at if were a couple or not. We were sure she was flirting with us, maybe one of us, but hey both of us would not be out of the question. I quickly realized she was into our game and was fucking back. I liked that, that gave me a tingle in just the right way. She had a Labret, simple silver ball. I’ve always found that piercing incredibly sensual due to how well it can accentuate a woman’s lips. She had the most luxurious of shoulder length locks. Raven hair tinted blue. She did give me a look as Dee and I finally continued on.
Quickly I turn to see where Dee has us sitting……..next to her psycho fucking ex with the quasi lazy eye. My head screams, “take your shoe off and beat her with it!” I let out a slight chuckle in my private moment. I just remark passive aggressively to anything that falls from her mouth. Dee senses my tone and slams her foot right into my puss from underneath the table. She smirks noticing my wince of pain and the tears welling up at the corner of my eyes.
I feel a pull at my shirt collar. I look up startled not sure who’s eyes I will meet. It’s her, raven hair with the sexy Labret. She continues to tug at my collar clearly motioning me to get my ass out of the chair. She marches me into the bathroom, slams the door, the lock shuts with a thud inside the wood frame. The bathroom a bit rundown as would be expected. Cigarettes encircle the toilet water. My mind of course elsewhere, the body, beauty before me. She must be my height, 5’7, we can see eye to eye. Her eyes a pale hazel, green dances around the edges of her irises. She knows what she wants but hesitates not quite sure of any boundaries I may have. At this very moment any boundaries that may have existed are in the distant past. Both our bodies are a little tense. We are close enough however to feel our breasts heave against one another in rhythm with our breathing. So intense can we feel one another, clothes are no barrier.
I make the move. I grab the back of her neck pulling her into me, I want, I need the taste of her lips upon my tongue. Her body tightens under my touch, I pull away fearing I have committed some kind of error in judgement. We are two shells of want and worry. With a fierce intensity reading the thoughts of one another, engaged in like soul, our hands limber yet strong grab at one another. I place both my hands on her hips. I squeeze her hips gently feeling them start to pulsate against me. I slowly bring her pants down around her as she participates in unzipping them. She grabs my hands in hers and helps me remove the silken cloth covering the heart I long to taste and feel with every part of me. I begin to kiss her deeply. My left hand cups the firmness of her ass, my right wanders upward, slowly. There is hesitation toward my end destination. Our mouths bite and tease each other’s tongues and lips. Her hair falls into my face, I don’t brush it to the side, I want each strand blinding me, I only want to look with my taste and touch. She smells sweet with sweat. She runs her small, smooth fingers through my blonde hair, pulling gently but in a domineering fashion. My tongue wanders elsewhere. It finds the part where her neck and bottom of her ear meet. She moans, I have no doubt of the pleasure I bestow upon her. She slips her hands gently down my legs stroking the heat between them. Her hands quiver a moment but begin in hurried manner to release my belt and pants that only hinders the penetration she longs to give me. Her thoughts of my tightness only hurry her more. As her hands finally find their way around my pants, unbuckled and unzipped, she shrugs them down like worthless Christmas wrapping, the bow only worth keeping. I pull her into my body as close as can be possible. Our legs intertwine, I can feel her so soft, warm, increasingly wet against my bare thigh. I sense her swollen clit stroke gently against me but with even pressure for the perfect orgasm. Our breathing now deeper, heavier, her moans faster…………….BANG, BANG, BANG!
I scream in demonic frustration, “Who the fuck is it? And it better be fucking good!”
Dee shouts from the other side. Of course, of course it would be Dee. “Yo she blew me off, let’s go for beers and your pussy shit elsewhere!”
We both just stand there for a moment. Both of us a little embarrassed but left with swollen pussy and blue clit. I apologize, don’t say much more for fear of feeling even more humiliated. I exit the bathroom, now consoling my dumped, twat swatting best friend.
To Be Continued………….