It
began in the corridor of the hotel’s third floor where, flanked by the parallel
rows of fisheye peepholes, ache1 located Skunk’s erect penis by
threading her fingers through the buttonfly gaps of his jeans, though its
genesis proper was at the winding back of years to the baby being hauled from
its mother’s womb by a rough and staining hand, the child to walk forever
damaged through his world, limping at last across the same rainsoaked cobbles
between which clotted pools of this woman’s running blood.
Brother
Skunk was loose enough with alcohol to only now comprehend himself
leaving the restaurant, a little wary of the easy familiarity between ache1
and the waiting staff by whom he felt she’d been adopted like some sort of
mascot.
Skunk
felt himself pulled into her, teeth meeting in the hard crack of their first
kiss and the resultant pain burned back white upon his breath into the
alcohol-sodden sponge of his brain. ache1 ran a tentative tongue
along beneath her lips before turning to open the door with her plastic
keycard, leaving Skunk some minutes in her wake yet, transfixed by the tiny
green LED above the door handle, extinguished with the defaulting autolock.
Inside,
having telephoned reception for channel 16, ache1 crossed the room
to flip on the television, waiting until the encrypted static resolved itself
as habitual bland pornography.
ache1:
Perfect.
turning
for Skunk’s reaction.
ache1
(surprised at his absence): Skunk?
and
quickly checking the bathroom.
ache1:
Skunk? Where
hearing
a clumsy thump from outside in the corridor.
He
was on his knees supporting himself with one hand on either jamb. She watched
his head slide slowly across the opened door and into her belly, the dislocated
weight of his body sending them both backwards onto the carpet.
They
kissed again. She bit at his neck and he pulled his hands over the nyloned
spread of her backside, but still to follow his body into the room he could
feel nothing, only partially aware of his own name isolated in childish crayon
crawl across the top sheet of a small pile of pages, bright in the television's
luminous flux.
cog
(rapping on door): Room service.
ache1:
Leave it there thanks.
and
dextrously stepping from her tights and panties, crossed the room for one hand
to open the door and return clutching tight to the bottleneck of fresh Jack
Daniel’s.
ache1:
Ta-daah!
rolling
her little hips beneath the dress and waggling the bottle at Brother Skunk, who
found himself attempting manufacture of saliva enough to counter whatever it
was that dried and thickened the wall of his mouth.
She
handed him the bottle, kissed him hard and again and as his teeth tore at the
celloseal, began pressing the metal flybuttons of his Levi’s through their
denim eyelets. Skunk spat away the cap still in its plastic and took a draught
that inebriated as he was still managed to stipple the flesh of his arms and scorch his heart.
Within
his returning focus he could comprehend movement down beyond the prick that
bent out hard from his grey cotton shorts, and a stink of greasy rubber that
slid into the forefront of delayed sense and echoed back across the others with
a tiny flash of remembered pain, the source of which eluded his inebriation yet
coerced him to forsake the bottle for the slick little prophylactic.
With
the condom carefully rolled down over his penis, ache1 straddled the
kneeling Skunk, holding the brushed blue cotton of her dress out of the way
with one hand while gently directing him inside her with the other. She began
to grind against him; Skunk rocked his buttocks minimally on the carpet,
struggling on one elbow to straighten his legs beneath her as his other hand
slid up inside her dress.
With
a sudden yelp his lips pared back across his teeth and he quickly pulled out,
his hand going tight to his groin. He staggered towards the television’s
puddled light to remove the condom which with the friction of their sex had
rolled itself inbetween his foreskin and the bulb of his penis. He winced again
slowly peeling the wedge of latex from out his inflamed skin.
ache1:
Skunk are you alright? Can I help you with that? Are you al-
aware
in only her speaking these words of his own persistent moaned monosyllable
Skunk:
no no no no no no no
repeated
over and over until the inverted foreskin had been carefully corrected.
It
was with a deal of solicitude he applied the next condom and this time she let
him lie on top, their rapid and drunken rut almost over with neither of them
fully from their clothing when Skunk jerked back, tearing himself violently
from out her body; the same convulsions as spat his semen tore down to his
foot, stretching every vein and ligament until they snapped all at once. He
bent quick into the pain, immediate tears rolling from his tight-shut eyes.
ache1:
Skunk! Jesus Christ what is it? Skunk...
unaware
of what had happened, ignorant of what to do besides simply holding his curled
body as best she could for now, and defying the wet burn between her swollen
labia.
ache1
(softly, stroking his hair): Hey... hey... hey...
her
other hand tracing the lines of blood scabbed across her belly.
Later,
with him passed over into sleep there on the carpet, she would see for the
first time the angry marking raised upon his ankle.
