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jack_babalonShe empties the bottle of merlot with a quick splash in my glass. I go to take a sip but she lays a hand over mine and wordlessly shakes her head 'no'. The light of the candles are sparkling in her dark eyes and she has the restrained smile of a secret on her lips. Standing up, she hooks her thumbs into her skirt and snakes out of it with ease. Her eyes slip like keys into mine, teasing the lock and refusing to turn. She leans forward as she steps out of the puddle of her skirt, her face inches from mine. The scent of exotic oils combine with the electric crackle of her phermones. As I lean in to kiss her she leans back up with a playful giggle. She crosses her arms at her waist and raises the veil of the white t-shirt she was wearing, turning around though, so I can only see the shadows flicker along the surface of her back. There are two bat wings tattooed along the shoulder blades, jet black with tips a faded blood red. She looks over her shoulder at me, the small nose, the arched brow, the lips stained with Pinot Noir.
She turns around slowly, her arms folded across her breasts, in one hand holding my glass of wine. She's hitting me all at once now. Dancers legs, silk smooth and thick with strength. The small little belly she has, though not fat by a long shot, you can see she's not the type to obsess over having a 'six-pack'. The skin is caramal and cream mixture and I vaguely remember her saying something about being half Indian- half French. But mainly it's those dark eyes. Inhuman and bright, revealing an intensity her words don't offer. I know she's trouble and worse I know that troubles coming. I've heard the omens, i've consulted the oracles. I know what my friends say:
"She's death magick, baby!" John tells me with his snort of a laugh. "Bad ju-ju and all that shit. But i'll tell you the real bitch of it..."
"What's that?"
"If you have the chance and don't do anything.... then you're either gay or a eunuch. Because no straight man can lay eyes on her and not get a hard on at least once. But 'here's the rub' as they say: If you do have the chance and do do something... then you're nothing more than a damn fool, plain and simple, no if's, and's or but's about it."
It's only a handful of hours ago and we're at Lenny's. John's playing pool and i'm standing there trying to drink my way to either bravery or oblivion. Over at the bar, seated in the corner between what looks to be two male models for some mens magazine. They have hair they've spent hours trying to make look like they spent no time at all on. They have calculated stubble peppering chiseled chins. They have zero body fat and very expensive outfits designed to look like they were purchased from a thrift store five years ago. They reek of that unique confidence when one has had more money than work in their lives. And yet, while she smiles at their jokes and nods in appreciation at the drinks they're buying her, those dark eyes are trained on me. I can't believe my luck. On a good day i've been described as 'do-able' with a 'kinda John Malkovich thing going'. I won't even tell you what they say on a bad day. I smile at her and she catches my smile with one raised eyebrow.
"Have you....?" I ask John. Who looks at me with a Grim Reaper grin and offers me only a shrug maybe.
"What-are-you-thinking-about?" she asks, straddling my lap, throwing her arms behind my neck and pressing her breasts across my chest.
"You."
"What-about-me?" She breathes her words. They don't vibrate in the throat but rather flow like music through her voice.
"How beautiful you are. How i've always seen you around, y'know at the clubs and... and well I just never thought that someone like you would even..."
"Shhhh..." She says and leans back, one arm still draped around my neck, and her body arches back just a little, the peaks of her breasts glow red with the light. She takes my glass and takes a healthy swallow and then, with the speed of a cobra, she kisses me, spitting the wine back into my mouth. Between our lips it trickles down our chins. She bites my lip hard. I dig my fingers into her side to release the pain. She begins licking the blood and wine off my lips, like a baby kitten drinking from a bowl of milk. Her hand finds my crotch, she unsheaths of heat of my want. I sink my hand under her ass, cradling her weight as I rise off the couch, her thighs wrap around me and I press her into the nearest wall as I press deeper and deeper into her.
I hear a tearing noise, like sheets being ripped down the center. I turn to see what the noise is and realize that her six black cats are sitting around us, phospherescent eyes watching us go. She pulls my face back to hers and we keep kissing, only her tongue seems a lot longer now, it actually seems to coil around mine. I try to pull back but I can't. Her tongue has constricted around mine. I can hear the tearing noise get louder now and suddenly all the cats are wailing around us. A rising chorus of warning and spite. Suddenly i'm stabbed in the back, the pain jolts across my nervous system and she catches my scream in her throat. I try to push free from her but she only digs her nails deeper into my back. Inside her I can feel the pull and push of her tide, her tunnel of love crushing the length of my ship into her.
Slow motion fireworks burst behind my eyes.
From behind her, black wings spread open and across the wall. The ink of her art has escaped the cage of her skin. I can hear them fluttering to the music of her heat.
She lifts us. I rise. Plucked like a flower out of the field of gravity.
I can hear the chorus of cats now, vaguely human, repeating the same refrain over and over:
"Hungry. Give him to us Mommy. Give us his flesh when you're done....". I'm getting light headed. She's sucking the air from my lungs I realize. I'm floating on the pain now, floating in her and a wave of euphoria comes over me. A thousand suns flare just under the skin. I can see the night sky now behind my eyes and a million stars guiding me forward, guiding me away. I am falling down a tunnel of unconsciousness. I can almost hear my last thought outloud: "Yes. They can have me when you're done."
When I come to the first wave of light blinds me and I can feel my body go numb with cold. My eyes adjust. I realize i'm laying on the ground naked, curled up in a little ball right by a large green dumpster. Two winos sitting on overturned milk crates silently debate my presence. The first thing I do is call her name. The second thing I do is cover my shame with a yellowed sports section I find. I turn to the winos.
"Where the fucks my clothes?" I bark at them.
They look at each other. Then at me. The smaller of the two shrugs-
"That's a damn fine question. Kinda hoping you'd tell us..."
Sunovabitch I mutter. It's not just my clothes, but my money, my credit cards, shit my entire wallet, my cellphone, my house keys and that's not to say anything of my dignity. That and my back is raw, tenderised meat that stings when the air shifts around it. I limp over to a payphone. I realize i'm on MLK so i'm not to far from Lenny's. I almost think i'm fine when I see an APD cruiser go by. But a naked man wondering around this neck of the woods at dawn is nothing out of the ordinary, certainly nothing worth pulling over for. Just another street crazy in Atlanta. Just another fucked up asshole. It takes me three payphones and 15 minutes to get one that works. I call John up. Collect. He answers on the third try.
"Hey-yyyy Romeo. Have fun last night?"
"I hope so."
"You don't remember?"
"No... look man..."
"So where'd she drop you off at? By Lenny's right?"
"You mother fucker! You knew she was going to.. you knew i'd end up butt naked..."
"Calm down! Least she didn't feed you to the cats" He releases that snort of a laugh. "Besides would you have believed me if I told you last night?"
I say nothing, knowing the answer. I give him an address. I waddle over with my sports section toga and take a seat on the bay of an old loading dock. He said he'd be there in 15 minutes, meaning since he's one of my friends, it'll be closer to an hour.
"Young man. Don't you got no clothes to wear?" An ancient woman asks me, her face just barely visible over the bars of her shopping cart. I look at her and then look around me, like i'll find my belongings, finding of course, nothing.
"No ma'am, i'm afraid I don't. But I could sure use a cigarette..." I smile at her sheepishly. She just shakes her head and pushes her shopping cart on by. "Some people jes got no sense..." she mumbles to herself and feeling the ice cold of morning creep up my ass like a vicious snake, I wonder who I am to disagree.
She turns around slowly, her arms folded across her breasts, in one hand holding my glass of wine. She's hitting me all at once now. Dancers legs, silk smooth and thick with strength. The small little belly she has, though not fat by a long shot, you can see she's not the type to obsess over having a 'six-pack'. The skin is caramal and cream mixture and I vaguely remember her saying something about being half Indian- half French. But mainly it's those dark eyes. Inhuman and bright, revealing an intensity her words don't offer. I know she's trouble and worse I know that troubles coming. I've heard the omens, i've consulted the oracles. I know what my friends say:
"She's death magick, baby!" John tells me with his snort of a laugh. "Bad ju-ju and all that shit. But i'll tell you the real bitch of it..."
"What's that?"
"If you have the chance and don't do anything.... then you're either gay or a eunuch. Because no straight man can lay eyes on her and not get a hard on at least once. But 'here's the rub' as they say: If you do have the chance and do do something... then you're nothing more than a damn fool, plain and simple, no if's, and's or but's about it."
It's only a handful of hours ago and we're at Lenny's. John's playing pool and i'm standing there trying to drink my way to either bravery or oblivion. Over at the bar, seated in the corner between what looks to be two male models for some mens magazine. They have hair they've spent hours trying to make look like they spent no time at all on. They have calculated stubble peppering chiseled chins. They have zero body fat and very expensive outfits designed to look like they were purchased from a thrift store five years ago. They reek of that unique confidence when one has had more money than work in their lives. And yet, while she smiles at their jokes and nods in appreciation at the drinks they're buying her, those dark eyes are trained on me. I can't believe my luck. On a good day i've been described as 'do-able' with a 'kinda John Malkovich thing going'. I won't even tell you what they say on a bad day. I smile at her and she catches my smile with one raised eyebrow.
"Have you....?" I ask John. Who looks at me with a Grim Reaper grin and offers me only a shrug maybe.
"What-are-you-thinking-about?" she asks, straddling my lap, throwing her arms behind my neck and pressing her breasts across my chest.
"You."
"What-about-me?" She breathes her words. They don't vibrate in the throat but rather flow like music through her voice.
"How beautiful you are. How i've always seen you around, y'know at the clubs and... and well I just never thought that someone like you would even..."
"Shhhh..." She says and leans back, one arm still draped around my neck, and her body arches back just a little, the peaks of her breasts glow red with the light. She takes my glass and takes a healthy swallow and then, with the speed of a cobra, she kisses me, spitting the wine back into my mouth. Between our lips it trickles down our chins. She bites my lip hard. I dig my fingers into her side to release the pain. She begins licking the blood and wine off my lips, like a baby kitten drinking from a bowl of milk. Her hand finds my crotch, she unsheaths of heat of my want. I sink my hand under her ass, cradling her weight as I rise off the couch, her thighs wrap around me and I press her into the nearest wall as I press deeper and deeper into her.
I hear a tearing noise, like sheets being ripped down the center. I turn to see what the noise is and realize that her six black cats are sitting around us, phospherescent eyes watching us go. She pulls my face back to hers and we keep kissing, only her tongue seems a lot longer now, it actually seems to coil around mine. I try to pull back but I can't. Her tongue has constricted around mine. I can hear the tearing noise get louder now and suddenly all the cats are wailing around us. A rising chorus of warning and spite. Suddenly i'm stabbed in the back, the pain jolts across my nervous system and she catches my scream in her throat. I try to push free from her but she only digs her nails deeper into my back. Inside her I can feel the pull and push of her tide, her tunnel of love crushing the length of my ship into her.
Slow motion fireworks burst behind my eyes.
From behind her, black wings spread open and across the wall. The ink of her art has escaped the cage of her skin. I can hear them fluttering to the music of her heat.
She lifts us. I rise. Plucked like a flower out of the field of gravity.
I can hear the chorus of cats now, vaguely human, repeating the same refrain over and over:
"Hungry. Give him to us Mommy. Give us his flesh when you're done....". I'm getting light headed. She's sucking the air from my lungs I realize. I'm floating on the pain now, floating in her and a wave of euphoria comes over me. A thousand suns flare just under the skin. I can see the night sky now behind my eyes and a million stars guiding me forward, guiding me away. I am falling down a tunnel of unconsciousness. I can almost hear my last thought outloud: "Yes. They can have me when you're done."
When I come to the first wave of light blinds me and I can feel my body go numb with cold. My eyes adjust. I realize i'm laying on the ground naked, curled up in a little ball right by a large green dumpster. Two winos sitting on overturned milk crates silently debate my presence. The first thing I do is call her name. The second thing I do is cover my shame with a yellowed sports section I find. I turn to the winos.
"Where the fucks my clothes?" I bark at them.
They look at each other. Then at me. The smaller of the two shrugs-
"That's a damn fine question. Kinda hoping you'd tell us..."
Sunovabitch I mutter. It's not just my clothes, but my money, my credit cards, shit my entire wallet, my cellphone, my house keys and that's not to say anything of my dignity. That and my back is raw, tenderised meat that stings when the air shifts around it. I limp over to a payphone. I realize i'm on MLK so i'm not to far from Lenny's. I almost think i'm fine when I see an APD cruiser go by. But a naked man wondering around this neck of the woods at dawn is nothing out of the ordinary, certainly nothing worth pulling over for. Just another street crazy in Atlanta. Just another fucked up asshole. It takes me three payphones and 15 minutes to get one that works. I call John up. Collect. He answers on the third try.
"Hey-yyyy Romeo. Have fun last night?"
"I hope so."
"You don't remember?"
"No... look man..."
"So where'd she drop you off at? By Lenny's right?"
"You mother fucker! You knew she was going to.. you knew i'd end up butt naked..."
"Calm down! Least she didn't feed you to the cats" He releases that snort of a laugh. "Besides would you have believed me if I told you last night?"
I say nothing, knowing the answer. I give him an address. I waddle over with my sports section toga and take a seat on the bay of an old loading dock. He said he'd be there in 15 minutes, meaning since he's one of my friends, it'll be closer to an hour.
"Young man. Don't you got no clothes to wear?" An ancient woman asks me, her face just barely visible over the bars of her shopping cart. I look at her and then look around me, like i'll find my belongings, finding of course, nothing.
"No ma'am, i'm afraid I don't. But I could sure use a cigarette..." I smile at her sheepishly. She just shakes her head and pushes her shopping cart on by. "Some people jes got no sense..." she mumbles to herself and feeling the ice cold of morning creep up my ass like a vicious snake, I wonder who I am to disagree.