This is the same bar I remembered, it didn’t change one bit
all through the years… I remember sitting in front, on the steps with my
friends, and wonder what’s happening in there. Memories swallow me and I can
remember the vows, “We shall never go in there alone! Never!” this was unusual…
guess who I'm with. Tonight it’s just me, myself and I.
My knee high boots and short skirt attract people, and the
women look angry at my low cut shirt and my curly hair dangling on my
shoulders. My makeup is simple, eyeliner, mascara, eye shadow and lip-gloss,
the usual… It’s fascinating how being dressed in black makes you stand out in a
place like this. One cannot even look passed his nose... but people notice me
from across the rooms and point and whisper. I’m not exactly surprised, no one
has ever seen me in here before, and here, you have to be a regular in this
cursed little town. Plus, I’m a goddess in a place like this, definitely not
rolling with my own little crowd.
I take a seat at the bar, and hold a glass in front of me,
the alcohol loosens the grip the cigarette smoke has on my neck… surprisingly,
it has no effect on my judgment, it never did… I drink it for kicks at the
moment. You don’t think I’m really alone do you? No way! I’m surrounded my all
these men. A doctor on my right, a lawyer on my left and behind me, who knows
what other boring guys stand. Each with a glass in his hand, each with a broad
smile… one more boring than the others, I’d have more luck meeting a good,
exciting guy at a hardware store.
“The politics of this guy are worse than those of a horse!
Who does he think he is doing that?” the single phrase I could make out from my
doctor friend. His name was Luke I believe, and he just moved here from New
York. He had a fine pair of eyes, sparkling blue and he was well in his 20s.
“No way! You’re a mad man! But I am sure milady has
something to say to the politics of this very well man!” the lawyer would never
give up trying to pull me into the conversation I dreaded so much and tried to
avoid at all costs. He was a few years older than Luke and his name was Chris
or Dave... or something. His nice smile left me blind in this dark, foggy room.
So many men in this bar! Damn it! All in their late 20s and
going on 102… all so boring, so... common and yet most of them Harvard
graduates. The world is going to hell I tell you, when you see so many fine men
surrounding a skirt… then, my friend, you’ll see it. By this time, I was
downing drinks like water and was praying for an escape of some sort… politics
are not my favorite subject especially after a few shots of vodka.
It got suddenly windy, and I could feel it through my shirt…
the cold breeze of the door being slammed against the wall, and couldn’t help
but look at the moron who was keeping the door open in December.
There he was! Standing in the doorway, dressed in black,
this porcelain god. His black hair covering his face, but his black eyes
burning through mine. He stood there, looking around then decided to come get a
drink. He waltzed through the sea of men at my sides and ordered a whisky, no
ice. He pushed his way through the crowd and sat next to me in Luke’s place. He
downed his drink, this... kid... it seemed so easy for him. He put my coat on
his arm, and pulled my hand after him.
“Come with me darling, let’s not waste time.” And started
pulling me towards the door.
I couldn’t even walk straight, the smell of his cologne made
me dizzy and the high heels wouldn’t cooperate tonight with my state of mind. I
stumbled moronically after him, and smiled when he caught me by the waist
before I fell nose first in the snow. I could feel his eyes burn me even when
he closed them to smell my shampoo.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as he held me “but your cologne has
this weird effect on me.”
“You wouldn’t be the first one darling!” and he showed me
his brilliant white teeth “now, if you’ll be so kind as to get in the car…
don’t waste my time tonight dear. I like you, and you like me, so there’s no
point in trying to be flattering you, because I’m sure a fine piece like you
know what she has.”
His car was freezing but he turned on the heat, and all
through town he mumbled some things about himself, he turned on some music,
this skater boy was out of place around me. His eyes looked for something in
the dark; he searched for an opening in the woods, somewhere to park and
continue what he had planned for me. He
wasn’t too shy about anything; he mentioned sex like he mentioned a football
game, and his hands moved shamelessly on my naked knees.
He introduced himself, later on, as being 23 year old Jack
from Seattle, and that his main job was his band. He pointed at his guitar in
the back, and that led me to believe he had some other place planned for me… I
was suddenly afraid and his hot hands burned my cold skin.
“Don’t be afraid darling, you’ll be safe. Nothing will harm
you as long as you’re with me. Now, be a doll and push away those two diamonds
that will roll on your cheeks. Your tears will hold me back. I cannot stand a
woman in tears.”
That was awful; I didn’t notice the fear stabbing me until
he mentioned it. His hot hand found mine and he knew how to find my lap pretty
fast. At that point, I knew my fate, and what he had planned for me that night,
so I thought to myself: might as well have fun. He seemed to be ready for everything, yet he
was slightly shocked when my hands drifted fast between his knees. I could
sense his tension as I breathed into his ear, and could hear the sound he made
while squeezing the steering wheel as I pushed his buttons.
“Whoa there baby, take it easy, I need to keep driving
straight without driving off the road and killing us both, but for life’s sake
don’t stop!”
The drive seemed short and before I knew it he was stopping
and opening the door for me. His hands were burning me through my shirt and he
had no intention of loosening his grip on me. He pulled me along him all the
way up the stairs. To my surprise my car was in the driveway and in no time we
were up the stairs and against the door of a master bedroom.
His hands were moving fast on my back and my fingers picked
tonight to be clumsy. It took me forever just to unbutton his shirt. His
impatient lips molded nicely against mine and his tongue was desperately
testing my skin. He would smile from time and look at the curves of my body, and
then he would whisper sweet, sinful words in my ear.
The moment my skin touched the covers I knew I landed on
cloud 9 and I was about to shape my body against an angel’s. It was impossible
to describe how nice his skin felt against mine, how my ice cold hands made him
tremble whenever I touched his back, how my deadly lips left frozen scars on
his neck and how his temperature dropped when touching me too long. His voice echoed in the almost empty room so
nicely… so effortlessly… so naturally.
A whole 9 hours went by and the flame in him… the huge
difference between our temperatures didn’t slow him down one bit… and his eyes
burned in mine. His pale pink lips met mine in so many dances... his hands
making me shiver slowly under his weight… his voice making me beg for more of
him.
It was a fast night… both our bodies crying with pleasure,
both our minds begging for more from each other. Two heartbeats into one and
two opposites twisting and pressing together.
It was all dark soon… his heavy eyes fell fast. And his arms
clutched my pillow close… he adored my perfume.
It was all over too soon, if you ask me… it was all perfect
and great, and so soon… too sudden… too… amassing. He never knew my name and I had no intention
to tell him. I left the house soon after he fell asleep, left a personal touch
on the door knob and left a note in the pocket of his pants: “Thank you for a
wonderful time. Goodbye.”
