They had, all of them, finally arrived, and were now waiting for a final directive from Mme. Chi. She stood, head cocked, listening for the silence that she knew followed one’s ascent to the top.
It was finally silent. She drew in a long, stern breath, and her vision became electric. She was terrified. She switched the sign on the front of her shop from “open” to “closed”, and proceeded in
the direction of the staircase. Though she had occupied the building for several years, and technically owned it, she had, in fact, never gone upstairs. She began. The first and second of the steps
each let out a grotesque squeal, and her body cringed as she hurriedly sought and found, by shifting the whole of her weight onto the silence of a third step, a reprieve from the deafening echo of
the previous two. The blaring noise was to continue on forever, never able to stop itself, but, thankfully, always susceptible to every other noise similarly reverberating. Were she to continue on
in this fashion, that is, terrified, nearly paralyzed, she would surely descend into madness. In unnatural, elongated steps, two at a time, she found herself at the top. Another electric breath
before the fateful step across the threshold, closing the door behind her, it was beginning. It had been beginning all along, and would continue on, always beginning.
She turned to face the group, but it was impossible. Not only were they too dispersed to be addressed as any type of cohesive body, the heat of their lust, emanating as a noxious and palpable force, perhaps as the noxious and palpable force, was simply too much for her to endure. All of the work that had been done, all of the time spent calculating this exact moment, revealed itself to be wildly beyond her comprehension. Her heart beat violently in her chest. Avoiding direct eye contact, she scanned the room. She sensed that some were looking to her for a directive, that some were in the process of abandoning themselves to their more primal natures, and that some had lost consciousness altogether. No part of what was transpiring was good or bad, right or wrong, and as Mme. Chi had, essentially, nominated herself to orchestrate said ceremony, she felt this stark neutrality enveloping her.
There was, however, no means by which to stop or reverse what had begun, and she thereby committed to seeing through, to its completion, a process and an action that began as a mere adolescent fantasy. As the room began to spin, she knew that she too would lose her mind, that she too would fall into a frenzy, that she too would come to the defense of some crippled animal (forgetting that she too was just that same crippled animal), and that she too would someday die as a result of insanity or from a sexually transmitted disease, this time clearly understood as one and the same thing. She could do nothing but participate in that fleeting manner that some call method:
“Abraxas, abraxas, so long since lost. But why here, why now? You terrify me so, you nonetheless sweet young thing. Indeed, by your very name you reveal yourself to know nothing essentially, but yet you persist onward, hard-headed. I know it is because you are afraid of feeling your body, of feeling your body as you most desperately want to, as you need to, as you must. What we see as boldness is indeed just the terrified bleating of a human child, and what you yearned to call our weakness, you have learned is the well-spring from which we generate this great strength which you are so in awe of, so overpowered by. We know you well enough to know that you are not wicked. We know you well enough to tell you that you are simply confused. You are entitled to and granted whichever horrors you seek, whichever pleasures you pursue, but you must remember that we too have felt horror and pleasure in all their fullness. And it must be understood that each fullness is a dual fullness, that horror is both full horror and full pleasure, as is pleasure both full pleasure and full horror. Ah, but you know this already, else you have just now learned this very second. You know us now, young thing, as we now know you. You have seen us all nude and groping, and now we return the favor. We see you staring at us, terrified and aroused.”
Sam pulled her underwear aside and unceremoniously stuck his tongue into her. Her eyes flew open in surprise. He pulled her underwear to the side a little further, and ran his tongue up and down,
up and down, up and down. One hand kept a firm grip on her right breast. As he worked, he yanked on her underwear so enthusiastically that it cut uncomfortably into her ass and pelvic bone. She
dropped her leg off of his shoulder and he looked up at her. She smiled understandingly, lifted her hips, and began to slide her underwear off. Sam took over, sliding them over her knees and
tossing them behind him with a grin. She settled back onto the couch and closed her eyes as he leaned in again. Using both hands to separate her lips this time, he renewed his efforts. Micah tried
to ignore the awkward pressure that he was exerting on her labia and focus on the other sensations as he explored her. She started to relax, thinking that he was getting the hang of it, when she
suddenly realized that he was humming the alphabet song.
Amused, Micah reached out and touched his shoulder. He seemed to take this as a sign that he was doing well, and flicked his tongue faster, “…lmnop, qrs…” She grabbed him by the hair, and pulled his head back. She placed her other hand on his cheek and kissed him. He moved up to embrace her as their tongues danced around each other, alternately teasing, then passionately deep.
She pulled back and looked into his eyes as she ran her tongue lightly across his lower lip. He shuddered slightly and goose bumps rose on his arms. She ran her hand down his stomach and cupped his balls in her hand, arching her back so that her nipples pressed into his chest. With a sharp intake of breath, he pressed his forehead into her neck as she moved her hand upwards along his shaft. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand and wrapped her hair in the other, pulling her head gently back to kiss her again. In one fluid movement, she shifted her hips forward and slid his now-ready erection into the center of her very wet pussy. They both gasped as he thrust forward deeper into her. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, and they embraced, both pushing against each other as hard as they could. She meanly dug the nails of her right hand into his back, the nails of her left hand into his ass. He yelped and thrust forward again, renewing his grip on her torso. She bit down on his neck, and he thrust forward again making her release him from her teeth and moan loudly.
They were both struggling for breath, desperately pushing forward deeper into each other, moving together. He bent his head to her left breast, cupping it in one hand as he sucked at her nipple. She was moaning loudly now, gripping him with her legs, her fingernails cutting into his skin. They thrust forward, and as his teeth grazed her diamond-hard nipple she began to shudder. He released her breast, slid his hand behind her head and kissed her deeply. She bit his lip hard. He grunted and buried his head in her shoulder as he drove himself into her. She began to moan very loudly, and whisper his name as she moved with him. “Oh god, Micah,” he moaned into her shoulder. She felt like her whole body was on fire, her fingers burning their prints into Sam’s body, her nails drawing blood. Her legs began to shake as the fire rushed to her cunt, and took all control away from the rest of her body. She threw her head back, gasping, bucking wildly as he leaned into her. With his next thrust, she yelled out loudly and locked him in a death-grip as she shuddered and shook against him, moaning. He could feel the contractions of her orgasm all the way to his balls, and he groaned as he was sent over the edge with her. She felt as though he was filling her with his cum. Her legs shook as they finished and he collapsed on top of her, panting. He tried to roll off of her, but she didn’t loose her grip on him yet. They lay there, embracing and trying to breathe, emptied of all thought or control over their bodies. Their mingled screams had drawn the attention of those in the room who weren’t already watching them, surreptitiously or otherwise. But Micah and Sam didn’t notice. She wiped the sweat from Sam’s forehead with her hand. “Was it good for you?” she grinned at him.
He lurched towards her, putting his hand around her head and whispering, almost unconsciously, "I want to fuck you."
Jeane took a deep breath and noticed the desire emanating down at her. She was drawn once again to his cock, thick and straight. It had been years since she had seen one, touched one, desired one. She sat up on her elbows and reached forward. It seemed to be coming straight at her, and she reached for it. She ran her fingers over it lightly, starting at the base and moving forward. It was a glowing beacon, a constellation. The man moved towards her in sync with her hands, unable to remain upright. With her left hand, Jeane grabbed onto his ass and pulled him in.
His weight came down on her, his body thrusting into hers as though his force would move them through the floor. He put his tongue into her mouth, then tickled her ear with it. His hands kneaded her arms, her breasts. He moved to her nipples, teasing and tickling. She felt as though he might swallow her whole. Jeane reached out again for him, touching his 1970's prick. He shuddered, guiding himself into her.
Moving slowly at first, and then gaining speed, Jody felt as if each stroke was like entering a happy, resplendent room, teeming with colored fountains and gels. She was soft, so soft, she was full, he was losing himself in a mount ainside of soft flesh, so deep…he closed his eyes, he was in a white wind tunnel, a diagonal mineshaft zooming through the center of the earth, all was white, all was fast, his eyes were tearing from the speed and the light…and then he started, he started to let go, he was letting go, he let go all inside of her, he was coating her insides, he was joining his gel with hers, he was wet, he was through. Jody breathed slowly, his head buried in the pillow next to a mass of wet, brown hair. He reached for her side, squeezing her flesh. He lay there, inhaling the warm scent of sex.
Jeane's breath became quiet, synchronising with his. They were tangled together, a mass, as one. She had given herself, and had taken him into her. She felt sheltered, she was trusting, he was holding her. She radiated joy. He looked up, turned and kissed her on the cheek, looked down at her wet body, and said, "Thank you."
"Christ," she breathed.
Jody turned and looked at the woman he had just ravished, running his hand over her hair, enjoying her happiness. "So," he said, whispering in a playful, lascivious tone, "Do you have a daughter?" He smiled, and waited for her response.
Jeane froze for a moment, unsure if she had heard correctly. What was missing? What was she missing? She felt like they had met together perfectly, filling each other's gaps. Was that not enough? Had she not been enough? Had her opening up left the man less than filled?
Jody noticed the woman's silence. "Or, maybe two?" he said, still smiling.
Two daughters? Daughters, children, Jeane had none. She had nothing. George was gone, he hadn't left her with anything to hold on to. Jeane had no children, no beautiful daughters, no beauty to offer to this man. She slowly turned to stone, withdrawing her energy from him back into herself.
"I mean, three would be a little too much," said Jody, his smile on the brink of a leer.
Nausea swept over her. She hunched her shoulders ever so slightly. Her eyes became cold and glassy. She ached. She was an empty cavern. She wanted to sleep, sleep this feeling away. She rolled away from the man, covering herself with a soft blanket that lay nearby. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that the room would stop spinning. She fell into an uneasy sleep.
Jeane woke up the next morning feeling as though her head would split in two. What had happened last night? She had crossed the finish line. She had wanted to be wanted. But more than that, she wanted the original want to remain after she started wanting back. She’d spent seconds, minutes, hours in the spotlight, being fawned over, being loved, being admired. It had been exhilarating. But as she looked around the room, still a mess of tangled, sleeping bodies, she noticed that the man who had collapsed into her had moved away and was sleeping in the lap of a handsome man still holding onto a video camera and snoring loudly. She remembered then that he had whispered something into her ear before sunrise, something that had made it hard for her to breathe as soon as the words left his lips. It had left a pit in her stomach, the price paid for being voluntarily exposed. It had been said at the wrong time, at a vulnerable moment. She stood up slowly, searching for her clothing, mulling over her uneasiness. As she dressed, Midnight reappeared seemingly from nowhere, rubbing against her leg. She smiled at his warmth, but then pursed her lips, wondering if she had given too much to the people in the room, feeling overly sensitive. But then she noticed Margie, her hair messy and partially covering her unmade face. And Virginia, who suddenly looked comfortable, content. She had made a difference in what had transpired in some of these lives. And with that, Jeane suddenly felt beautiful, new. She left Madame Chi’s silently, the cat following her, carefully avoiding the third stair. Chi was nowhere to be found, and her glittering spell book was missing from its shelf. There was no empty space there, no dust pushed aside, as though the book had never been there.
Was it good for ME? What a question! I suppose good is a relative term; one man’s good is another man’s excellent. All I know is that I cannot feel my legs. And to think, just a few days ago I was
filled with regret and angst. Somewhere between the onslaught of rush-hour crowds and gawking tourists I had lost my way; I forgot who I was. Thankfully those troubles, much like my virginity, are
nothing but a distant memory. It’s time I focused on tangible objects and obtainable goals.
In the moments after one’s first great sexual encounter, there is a necessary period of remembrance; I choose to forgo that period of mourning for a much more practical task, more sex. That is, after I get a glass of water.
For the moment, Micah and I are a jumbled mess of arms, legs and clothing. Her damp underwear is draped over my right shoulder while my jeans, now inside out, are laid out across her lower body. I have yet to begin the arduous search for my sneakers. Curious onlookers must wonder where she ends and I begin.
Trying not to disturb Micah would be tough. Trying to leave the couch without falling over would be even tougher. No longer being one to rest on my morals, I sprang into action. I gently lifted Micah’s head from my chest and unpeeled her hands from my mid-section.
“Hey, I need to stretch my legs. Do you want anything to drink?”
Muffled, incoherent words escaped her mouth as her body collapsed on the warm couch. Perhaps water was necessary for her as well.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
Within seconds, feeling returned to my legs. Like a toddler taking his first steps I carefully walked over the pillows and past piles of clothing. Apparently Micah and I weren’t the only two guest of Madame Chi looking for something this evening. Next to the bar was a man with his camera. Muttering to himself as he scanned the room, I made sure to cover myself as his lens focused it’s mediated gaze upon my naked frame. Nothing to see here buddy, move along. I grabbed two cups of water from the bar and made my back to Micah. Past the man with his camera, over the clothes, through the pillows and back to the couch I now call home. As her eyes noticed the water, life began to dance its way back into her personality. She sat up, thanked me, and drank the water as she fumbled for a comfortable sitting position.
Before I had a chance to lift the glass to my lips, Micah yanked me towards the couch, in the process, knocking the water from my hands, and onto my feet. I stood before her, now semi-erect and wearing wet socks. Micah giggled as I playfully removed my socks and tossed them in her general direction. I casually sauntered down to the couch, sat down beside her and thrust my lips onto her exposed neck. Micah gasped as my tongue explored her collarbone. She held me tight as her fingers dug into my back. A moan escaped her body as I forcefully sucked at her neck. My fingers fumbled with her nipples; within moments her hands found their way to my erection. Just as things began heating up, Micah pushed my mouth from her collarbone and, without saying a word, lifted her body from the couch. Her eyes screamed sex; I was more than happy to oblige.
In the time it took me to lay down, Micah had made up her mind. We were not to make love amongst the pillows and tapestries; we had already done that. She looked into my eyes.
“Sam—I’m going to fuck you now.”
Without so much as a nod of consent, Micah thrust her hips downward, onto my waiting erection.
“Ah, mmmm,” I screamed as I slide into her.
Before I could acknowledge our union, Micah began her conquest. Resting her hands on my chest, she pushed herself completely off my penis, before sliding down the length of the shaft once again. What began with her ass continued with her entire body. In just a few seconds she had gone from sweet seductress to dominating sex goddess. What a woman. Instead of smoothly sliding her ass up and down, she was thrusting her entire body back and forth, up and down. Whatever it took to get my penis inside of her, she would do it.
As the pace quickened, Micah’s breathing became shorter. She screamed,
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Fuck me Sam! HARDER!”
“You want me to fuck you?”
“YES! UGH! YES! HARDER! AH.”
We continued like this for what seemed like ages. I was worried we’d break the couch until I heard her moan the magic words.
“Ugh, Sam, DON’T STOP, DON’T STOP! Oh my god, I’m ABOUT TO CUM!”
As she said this, she thrust herself downwards with a force I didn’t think she had. She continued to squeal and moan as she ground her lips into my pubic hair.
“AH, SAM, UGH, I’M CUMMI—“
She grabbed me tight. Her nails dug into my shoulders. I felt her shudder and I began to yell.
“DON’T STOP! UGH, I’M ABOU TO CUM!”
She continued to shake as I shot the first stream of cum into her. I gasped for breath and held onto to Micah with whatever force was left in my body.
A soft moan escaped Micah’s lips.
“Mmmm.” Had I been able to properly form words at this moment, I would have echoed her sentiments exactly.
I placed my hand beside her ear and pulled her in close. We kissed and remained there, entangled, as the world continued to spin.
Hip Hip, Jorge! Hip Hip, Jorge! De-rek Je-ter! De-rek Je-ter! C’mon Yankees! Wait a minute, how did I get to Yankee Stadium; wasn’t I just having sex a minute ago? Oh you have to be kidding me; I’m sitting with Red Sox fans.
“Hey Bah-by, how’s yah cousin from Buhlington doin?”
“He fackin loves it there. He lives on the noahth side of the citeh.”
Holy hell I’m wearing a Red Sox shirt, GET-IT-OFF!
I awoke with a jolt, but thankfully, without a Red Sox jersey. As I scanned the room for my clothes I noticed Micah’s slight frame on the floor. Amongst the pillows and sweat lay Micah, her body wrapped around a woman of equal beauty and poise. Before I could introduce myself to Micah’s newest partner, a woman on the adjoining couch let out a squeal.
“Um, hi…can I help you?”
Virginia closed her eyes and listened to the music. From somewhere in the room, Daisy trotted up onto Virginia’s now tousled lap, nuzzling with her silver head, looking for attention. Daisy said
nothing. Virginia stroked her oldest friend along the earlobes, and slowly returned to regular breathing. It had been a long time.
Unconscious Man remained so. Virginia wondered what she would say to him if he woke.
From nearby she heard a boy’s voice. “Um, hi…can I help you?”
Virginia looked at the boy, all skin and hair and youth. He was awake. She glanced back at Unconscious Man, then at Daisy. Three choices for conversation. With a welling of courage, she chose the boy.
“Oh! Well, I’ve just been helped. Tee hee.”
“Ha! What a coincidence!”
“I feel wonderful. But…strange. What about you, Daisy? Oh, silly me.”
“Oh, well, hello there, Daisy. My name’s Sam.”
“How nice…but…Daisy’s just a cat. She’s my special one. But she – she can’t talk.”
“What are you talking about? She and I in the middle of a conversation; don’t underestimate Daisy; she hasn’t once lost faith in you. What do you love about her?”
“What do I love about my Daisy? Her goodness. Aren’t you good, Daisy? I know what she’s thinking. That’s enough. Right? That’s enough.”
“No, that isn’t enough. Look, we’re all here for some reason, be it sexual or other. I barely know you yet feel compassion towards your plight. Look at Daisy; look her in the eyes, um, eye, sorry; where would she be without you? Who would she be? The question remains, what do you want from her?”
Her small eyes met Daisy’s lone small eye in a small eyes only staredown. She knew he was right.
“I know where I would be without you, Daisy. Where would you be without me? Without Virginia? I’m Virginia, by the way. I’m Virginia!” She exclaimed much louder than she meant to, but let it fall out of her unencumbered.
“The name’s Sam, nice to meet you. You’re quite fond of her, aren’t you? I had a similar relationship with my dog.”
“What was her name?”
“Sunny, she was a golden retriever; she ran away on my ninth birthday. I never did find out what happened to her. Whatever it was, I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me the most. As you can imagine, I wasn’t like most other children. As they played kickball, I pined for my dog.”
“Oh, what a beautiful name. I’m sorry she ran away. Maybe she needed to find something, something you couldn’t help her with. Or maybe she was just chasing a squirrel and got lost…”
“A squirrel? A SQUIRREL? Not unless she was chasing a squirrel halfway around the world. What sort of friend runs away without letting you know of their whereabouts? Come on Virginia, do you really think she’s still running? This is what animals do; we nurture them until they are at the cusp of adulthood, and then they run away once we have become fully attached.”
“Oh, I don’t mean it like that, Sam. I just mean sometimes it seems animals have it right. They just do things and go on their way. And me, and you, we want it to be so much more. But sometimes it’s just, well, just animal things. Oh, listen to me, what do I know.”
“Actually, more than you could ever imagine. I would come home from school every day, grab a handful of pretzels and build what I liked to think of as a homemade dog trap. I would stash pretzels in clearly visible crevices of the front yard in the hope that she’d come back. Only, my trap didn’t work; she never came back. I wanted to love her forever, but unfortunately, our conceptions of forever were quite different.”
“But you still love her, right?”
“More than anyone will ever know. But it’s a different kind of love now. I love her as one would a distant friend or relative. If she ever came back into my life, sure, it’d be strange for a little while, but within minutes, we’d be back to our old tricks. Only, I know this won’t happen. So I’m left with a memory and a handful of lessons.”
“I wonder if you came here looking for her? You must think I’m crazy. But did you?”
“No, I didn’t come here in search of Sunny. I came here for her, but not with the intention of looking for her. A new chapter in my life began tonight.”
“Well, she certainly helped.”
“Where is she now?”
“Have a look; she’s the one with dark hair.”
“Oooooh, beautiful. Her hair is so black, just like my Mid- Ah. I mean, she’s lovely. She’ s a really lovely woman. So’s the other one.”
“Yes, they certainly are. What a backdrop for this conversation. So Virginia, are you happy with your life? It seems as though you’re happy with your cats, I get that. But what about you? What’s going on beneath that brown head of hair?”
“Well, I came here to return something to someone who had lost it. And I did. But it turned out differently than I expected. Mmmm. Are you hungry? I can make us a cheese sandwich.”
The boy looked back at his black-haired beauty and Virginia smiled. She leaned down close to Daisy’s ear and whispered, “We should go home.” But Daisy looked like she wanted a nap. As her glorious eye blinked itself slowly shut, Virginia made a mental to do list. Somewhere on it was to offer Midnight to Jeane. She looked around the room, much of it now nodding and naked, then closed her own eyes in agreement with Daisy. She briefly considered the parakeets and her things. Where was her purse? The sandwich would have to wait. Her mind slowed to a cool fog, then nothing. She wrapped a tapestry around herself and Daisy and slipped into an easy sleep.
Jody got up off the floor. He looked down at the large woman underneath the blanket. Was she cold? He reached down to touch her, but halted, sensing her withdrawal. His smile began to droop, like a
wreath of wilted flowers. He tried to touch her again, but could not. He was suddenly aware of himself, naked and alone in a strange room. He looked around, but all was darkness, confusing beats,
long tapestries shimmering in the moonlight, and vague shapes. Then he saw a tiny red light in the corner. A video camera light. It was being held by…a figure in a mask.
"You've been bad…" the figure intoned. Jody moved toward him, exploring…
The next morning, Jody rubbed his eyes, blinded by the sun streaming in from the skylights, and realized that a slim, muscled arm was slung over his torso. In fact, he was lying half over the compact torso of a man with bleached blond hair and a purple glitter mask over his eyes and forehead, sound asleep. What the fuck had happened last night? he asked himself. He got up off of the sleeping superhero, sat facing the darkest corner of the room, and slowly rose to his feet on creaky legs. The woman he had had sex with the night before was gone.
Jody started talking to himself, hurriedly and quietly, or disquietly, as he stepped lightly around the room, putting on items of clothing as he found them. He couldn't find his record bag anywhere. Looking around, he saw two couches against the wall to the left of the stairs. Just in front of one, there were two people lying sweetly together among pillows. On top, he recognized the lithe blonde who had entranced him at the start of the evening, before spinning off into parts unknown. He gazed at her lovely shoulderblades, like sculpted, jutting rocks in a smooth sea of skin. Jody scanned the pillows for a glimpse of her bedmate, and saw a thin arm, a matted shock of black hair, and the outline of a petite, chiseled face. The face moved, hair fell away, and she whispered something to her lover. Jody froze. It was Micah. A rush of feelings came too fast for him to think; how was she here? When did she get here? Had she seen him during the night? He didn't know what to do; he just hung there, stationary, on an invisible hook of wonder and grief.
A young man, or an old boy, walked over to Micah from another part of the room. He leaned down and caressed her cheek with his hand, and then squatted to ask her a question. Micah, still resting, managed a word or two in response, smiling and kissing the air in front of the boy. He stroked her cheek again, and rose to walk over to the bar, filling two glasses from a large water pitcher. When he finished, and was about to turn and deliver Micah's glass to her, he felt two light taps on his shoulder. He turned and saw Jody, who stood there, trembling, with an imploring look in his eyes.
"Talk to me," Jody said to the boy. "Please."
"Sure, hey, have we met?"
"How do you know…" Jody whispered the last word with a withered breath. "Micah?"
"Oh. We met yesterday, over hot dogs. Look, I saw the two of you get into something, I didn't want to impose myself. I don't mean you any--what I'm trying to say is, no hard feelings?"
Jody shook his head, waving an extended, brittle hand like a white-haired octogenarian. "No, I just want…I just need to know…how did you…"
"Figure her out? Let me guess, unrequited love? It was simple, I treated her like the last woman on Earth. Nothing else mattered when I was with her."
Jody tried to speak, but could not.
"Look, you either need to let go of the weight you carry or her. It's your choice, how long are you going to torture yourself for her? How do you think she feels? Do you think she spends her days thinking about this?
The question inspired a moment of lucidity in the crushed young man. "I don't really know what she thinks about at all," he said, recovering some of the tone in his voice.
"Didn't I see you with someone last night? Did you have fun with her?"
Jody started, his head jerking an inch to one side. "Yes, but I don't know her name. She was so nice and warm, she wanted to see my record…but I can't find her. Do you know where she went? I think I said something, something mean…"
"What'd you say? It couldn't have been that bad."
"I said…" Jody tried to remember, staring into the space above the bar. When it all came back to him, he swallowed in agony, and suddenly moved toward the stairs.
"I have to go," he said, brushing past the boy. "Thank you," he said, in a solemn, hushed tone.
Sam ran after Jody.
"Wait! Hey! C'mon, wait. You asked for my help, so let me help you!"
"When are you ever going to see Jane Doe again? You don't know her name, address, age or profession. For all you know you just got it on with the governor's wife. But you know Micah, and you want to talk to her again. I can help you, I promise."Focus on something you know, something you can change."
But Jody didn't hear him. He was too focused on getting down the stairs and chasing after his older lover. He rushed down, not even noticing the mighty creak near the ground floor. A few comet tails zoomed in his peripheral vision, residue from Madame Chi's concoction. He entered the store, looked on both sides, and saw Madame Chi in the corner, sitting in a rocking chair and reading one of her books. He wanted to ask her if she had seen his lover, but felt unable to pierce the still airspace of the daylit room. He brushed past a pile of Tarot decks, and pushed the front door open, emerging into a salty, sunny Coney Island morning.
There was no sign of her. Where did she come from? Where did any of them come from? He had no idea. But he thought that just maybe, maybe, he could find her. She liked music, she looked like a schoolteacher; she probably lived in the neighborhood somewhere with a bevy of cats. He could place ads, he could put up a few, discreet flyers, he would call himself, mysteriously, "the man with the record in his bag." Jody looked out into the dull morning light, the buildings, and the few passersby, probably workers on the rides or amusements. He noticed a supreme lack of environmental response to his fevered determination. The urge to swallow built in his throat. Over the top of a row of buildings near Madame Chi's, he saw the top of the great iron archway, the entrance to the train that would take him back into Brooklyn. And he admitted that his only direction lay towards that cold, green maw, alone. He took a first, hesitant step forward, looking down at the gravel, seagull shit, and bits of trash near his feet.
Hey man, I am sorry for leaving you there.
I forgive you man.
I was up all night wondering why on earth I was at the party. I knew deep down that it was a bad idea for the both of them. But I had to try new things. I always wondered what an orgy would be like. I thought it would be all that I dreamt about. It was amazing, but the guilt afterwards was too much to handle. I had this dark cloud hovering over my consciousness. He had no idea what I was going to do. I thought that I would be able to keep it a secret, but my dreams were getting more intense with each and every day. My dreams were the reenactment of all of the sexual pleasures I had throughout the years.
Prior to having any sexual experience, I never wanted to stop thinking about having sex. But now once I gained much experience I wanted something more. I wanted to create a more meaningful life for myself. Sex was not the way to go. I wondered what life would be like as a Chassidic Jew. I knew they were always happy. They may not have had the best lives, but were actually happy with what G-d had given them.
I decided that now was the only time for change. Change does not wait he had to attack it straight on. It was the only way. I decided to return to my roots as an orthodox Jew. But not in the conventional way of doing what I was told because G-d said so. I had to return on my own terms. I would now accept the Mitzvot as a new developed person. The Mitzvot would no longer be a huge burden to carry like a sack of dirt, but would be an honor of carrying superlative gems.
This was no easy task to accomplish. I saw the seductive powers of the dark side. I experienced many wonderful pleasures. I hoped that one day I would be able to get married. But first I had to revolutionize myself. I had to find my inner person. I thought that by going out and exploring the world he would be in a better position. It was true, now that I had experienced the world at large; I knew which life was best for me. My life of choice was to be an orthodox Jew. My life was a short tale of what to do and what not to do. I grew exponentially over the last few years. I finally knew what I was going to do with my life.
During my yeshiva days I longed for getting married at an early age. As the years passed by I wondered when marriage was going to happen for me. I saw my close friends getting married. I heard about all these people getting married many who were much younger than myself. It pissed me off not to be married. I felt that if I cannot get married then I should have fun enjoying life. Why should I follow the rules? I choose to rebel specifically because the community alienated me.
This led me to move to NYC in the first place. It was the place of desire and temptation. I withstood the temptation at first, but NYC was too much for me to handle all at once. This is where my downfall occurred. But as the famous saying goes as noted in Chombawamba, “I get knocked down but I get up again it’s never going to keep me down.”
I fell down the ladder, but it was my turn to climb back up. Sometimes we hit a fork in the road where we are faced with a decision. Sometimes we make the correct chose and sometimes we don’t. The point, however, is to learn from the choices we make and learn form them. Life is full of signs, some of them are more readily available then others and some are more discreet. At the same time, the only way to climb is in affect to loose control. When we take one foot to climb up to the next rung, we are unbalanced, but it is only in this way that we as human beings can grow.
Whenever we want to affect change, it has to be done because we want to. We are the sole deciders of what we do and don’t do. I chose to go NYC for freedom and freedom I found. I found my calling, the calling of a Jew, my connection with my G-dly soul.
This transformation was not an overnight process. It all happened a few weeks after I had gotten back to the city and decided to take a detour through Washington Square Park. There I met Rabbi Osdoba, who changed my life with a simple smile. Are you Jewish my dear friend? Normally, this approach would not have worked for me, but there was something different about this rabbi. I could tell that he cared. He wasn’t it in to make money. He was in the business of changing lives.
Rabbi Osdoba was the head of the Chabad of NYU. Later I found out that Rabbi Osdoba was not always religious; in fact, he was part of a cult back in the day. He used to follow the grateful dead and smoke up. Every Wednesday night was hooka night a wonderful social event in which Jews from all types of backgrounds could get together. Most of the time they would realize that being a Jew was cool. It was at this juncture point that made me come back. I saw the light. For the next six months I began my journey as a Chassid. For the first time in my life I was happy. I was comfortable with whatever happened in life.
During the last few weeks I was enjoying my rejuvenated energy as a Chassid. It was like nothing I have ever experienced before. For the first time I enjoyed praying three times a day, learning Chumash, saying Psalms, and learning Chassidic philosophy. I had a new lease I life, which made me proactive living life instead of life controlling me. I used to be in a stupor; got up each morning wishing for the day to be over.
Now was a new segment of my life, I enjoyed every moment. For the most part I was so busy the weeks blended together. It was a good thing I was enjoying every day with a new lease on life. Each day was my chance for a new beginning. I did not have to focus on the past or on all of the bad. My focus changed to accentuate the positive living in the present.
It all started on day when I got an email from my uncle who asked me if I was interested in being part of a movie. A month back when I was over at his house I was a bit depressed. I did not want to leave the house or really go out and do anything. He said I seemed to be waiting for something to happen to me as if it was going to hit me right in the lap.
I called him up as soon as I got the email; to be in a movie was the chance of a lifetime. I had always wanted to act and be part of something, but never really got the guts to get up and do it. Acting was more spontaneous for me. It had to be natural. I never really liked reading prepared speeches because I sounded like a tape recorder. I was an extra, I had no lines but I could be spontaneous.
My uncle informed me the filming was right outside Monticello, NY this upcoming Sunday. He said to come Saturday night and we would leave early in the morning. This meant getting up around six and leaving no later then seven so we could meet up with the rest of the group.
I left Saturday night, but as a typical grad student I fell asleep around five in the morning. But because of all the excitement I had enough energy for the entire day. The day was long lasting from seven in the morning to nine at night when we returned home.
I really had no clue as to what I was going to do. All I knew was my uncle and his crew “Hillel’s Angels” were going to be there part of a riding scene. I thought this was the follow up to the documentary for the movie “paperclips.”
The way up to Monticello was a long and tedious process because we were going by motorcycle. I would be riding on the back of my uncle’s BMW. It was the smoothest ride I ever had on a motorcycle. I had been on all of my uncle’s bikes, but this one was the best. It was a nine hundred pound bike with an ipod hook-up, five cd disc changer, seat warmers, GPS, helmets that communicated with each other. The crazy thing about the ride is I had been getting over a nasty cold for the past week, but I did not want to let a stupid cold prevent me from having the time of my life. It didn’t. I went on the bike and froze my ass off. When you go over seventy miles an hour with the wind blowing like crazy. The bike was moving from left to right.
In Monticello, I met Thor, the producer of the movie Goy Band. Thor was into all sorts of Jewish stuff. There was this thing about him that made him want to produce Jewish related movies of some sort. For some reason he was fascinated with the Jew Boy. This particular movie was this hip Chassidic Rabbi who is introduced by Hillel’s Angels.
When I got to the hotel I started smoozing as is common with me. I spoke with all of the various personal in-charge. I commented on how the garb looks nothing like an authentic Chassid would wear. This was before I knew it was about a comedy. The thing is some aspect of the lifestyle need to be preserved, but with a twist. I spent most of the day commenting on the best way to do it like a production manager. When Thor heard about all the work I had been doing giving my expert opinion on what kinds of twists should be done, he hired me on the spot. It was wonderful to be the Jew I wanted to be. I saw G-d helping me by putting me in the right spot at the right time.
At the time I was going crazy as to what I was going to do after school. This was my opportunity to explore other forms of creativity. My writing wasn’t going anywhere. Now, I had direction to my writing. For now, I was enjoying life doing what I wanted. This was my chance and I wanted to live it up. As the phrase goes, “live and let live.”
It was time for the orgy, Fela sneaked out of his hotel room littered with naked women on the floor. As usual, Fela was dressed in only underpants. Outside the hotel, Madam Chi was waiting in a
hired limousine car to convey Fela to the orgy and the drove straight to the orgy together.
As Fela entered the venue of the orgy, he began to hear his music being played. One of his old video was also on TV for the amusement of those at the orgy. As Fela entered the orgy, no one knew he was the musician on TV or whose music was being played. But Madam Chi later introduced him to a couple of people who were surprised but happy being in company of such a renowned musician.
For the greater part of the orgy, Fela was seated in one corner of the room to admire what he calls the “giant but juicy dicks and the standing and falling breasts” of those at the orgy. He equally marveled at the sexual appetites of some of the young women around.
As Fela admired the erotic sexual encounters going on around him, he could no longer stand the temptation of having sex. He threw away his underpants and walk around with his long dick and the people around began to admire the longevity of his dick. One of the women around teased Fela by saying his dick is a killer and he quickly replied in his adulterated English saying “Dick no dey kills but make you live longer”
As expected, the first casualty of Fela’s long dick at the orgy was Madam Chi who was fascinated by the longevity of Fela’s dick and went naked and grab Fala’s dick and sucked it voraciously. Fela performed oral sex on Madam Chi before he slammed his long dick into her virginal from the back and madam Chi began to scream and talk dirty to Fela. Her words: “Fuck me, Fuck me hard, suck my breast suck it hard”
Madam Chi’s dirty talk attracted other women to Fela at the orgy and they all wanted to have a taste of his long dick that is making Madam Chi scream so loud. The women eventually had a taste of Fela’s dick and they were happy they did. “It was a dick worth experiencing a life time” one of the women who had a taste of Fela’s dick said.
As Fela left Madam Chi, he was able to ram his ever erected dick into five other women who filed up to have a taste of his long and sweet dick which made many of the women scream and shout “ye ye” as he ejaculates into their virginal.
When Fela was done with his victims, he returned to his wrap of his marijuana and local gin. When it was time for Fela to leave the orgy, he could not find his underpants. He threatened to walk and naked to his hotel room if he could not find his underpants which perhaps may have been thrown into the garbage by one of the women who could not have a taste of his long dick.
To prevent Fela from walking naked on the streets, Madam Chi quickly rushed to Fela’s Hotel to bring him another pair of pants. That was how Fela was prevented from walking back to his hotel naked.
“The only truth is the truth and will always be the truth”, Thors mantra when sitting at the beach or glaring into the eyes of a child and especially when tripping on acid or mushrooms or sex; the hardness of his steel metal camera case melted into his ribs and his eyes became the lens. Time stopped and in this split in awareness he shuttered at the clique shay of a colorful black and white experience, aware that what was happening might be more than truth. “Start to Film little man!” came out as commanding as Feila but under the breath of goddess Chi “Film what?” “Everything! OK! Thor immediately let go of his tight gripped lip and let his camera do the walking. Then he noticed something familiar below the body of a sexy Pamela Anderson wannabe; This babe had an incredible body and was wearing only a pair of Prada shoes identical to the ones on his new friend Margie.
The Chiclet first came up and started to dance around the camera then she reached out and grabbed it as if it were the boy or sex toy she never got for Christmas. “My Baby!” Thor gasped and lunged forward. It was too late both he and Margi let go of the camera simultaneously. It fell into the floor on one of the cats who uncontrollability screeched MARRRRRWWWWWWLLLLL! “Who’s fucking stray pussy is out of the bag!” And as he let out his own drool of drama, he realized it was all of the people in the room! “I am going to find the nearest microwave and cook up some feline fritters.” Ms. Chi let out a loud uncontrollable laugh that came from the depths of her soul, Thor could taste the shrill pleasure of finally giving in to giving in…he never gave himself an in to well give in to! His mind went limp, not because he had lost the masculine need to shape up! He had lost the masculine desire to dominate everything out of fear. Here was a group of people living vicariously through something as organic as a need, not just a want an innate whimsy like children who play in a park, innocent truth, not mired by the shellac of fear.
He picked up the camera and threw it on the couch, “What are you doing?” Screamed Chi, Thor turned around and walked towards the door looked directly into Chis eyes and said “Hey your in charge, aren’t you suppose to know?” “Frankly Scarlet I don’t give a Damn and don’t forget tomorrows another day!” Madame Chi’s screams were faintly heard as Thor slammed the door behind him “Come back here you bitch of a man! My plan will be ruined!” Thor laugh a little and said to himself “She’s melting” He was always one for the metaphor of slang and style but he used it as a way to take himself away. He could not walk in that direction anymore.
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Book / Flash Fiction
Poem / Poetry
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