Saturday, February 19, 2011

The Book of Green - Number 4

Inside the apartment Cole found all the usual for a young girl in San Francisco: clean clothes, dirty clothes, wine bottles, ash trays, candles, colored linens everywhere, and a trashcan overflowing with empty chinese food takeout boxes.  Cole had stumbled out of plenty of these apartments in the past.  This time he was especially glad that he knew not to step on any loose fabric on the floor, for underneath was always a little glass something or other that when crushed would send off an alarm to the occupants of any home—something he did not want to have happen at this time.        
Cole knew this because he had received the two largest scars on his body from such an experience. Her name was Jenny Melong, and she had been an all night party about a year or so ago. Cole met her in a little cafĂ© by the wharf. They instantly hit it off and after about an hour or two they adjourned to her home. Upon arriving at Jenny’s home, things heated up quickly and the hallway was their first stop, then the kitchen, then the kitchen again, then a break for wine and bread, then the balcony while catching a smoke, more wine, then an empty room and they worked their way into the bathroom, then a smoke or three, some wine, and a final performance on her grandmother’s desk in the parlor. 

Jenny passed out shortly thereafter, and in a moment of clarity, Cole realized that even though the sex had been more than excellent, Jenny was probably going to want some kind of relationship when she woke up. Cole expected as much because he had told her all the necessary things needed to start an all-night party: ‘You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,’ ‘I could really see this going somewhere,’ ‘I know I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I think I’m in love,’ blah, blah, blah, and more blah.  And if he had been a little more mature, he would have seen the warmth of her person, the stability in her house, how their bodies responded so well to each other, the good job she had in the city, and stayed. But instead he feigned sleep, grabbed his clothes, and was headed for the door within seconds of her first snore. On the way to the door, he looked down and paused to decide whether to step on a silk scarf in the middle of the floor.
Four things were learned at this point, (1) when the mind requires pause, do the opposite of what you’re doing—the mind requires pause for a reason, (2) never step on any loose fabric on the floor of a young woman’s floor while escaping from her arms—as previously noted, (3) Never, ever, under any circumstance  scream while you are trying to furtively flee, and (4) always casually ask your lover if they keep a knife by their bedside table and if they do keep a knife, always ask if they are good at throwing said knife.  These are musts for an urchin of love; for failure to ask, will find one in the emergency room having pieces of a glass menagerie removed from one’s foot and a paring knife removed from one’s shoulder.    
Cole trembled a bit at the reminder of the experience, as he always did, but was quickly brought back to the situation at hand. As he looked around, he wondered where exactly the two beautiful women were until his ears began to hone in on the slow moaning in the back room. The melody was intoxicating. The pleasure was building and Cole heard one of the women request that her nipple be licked. He immediately froze and had to think about Sandy Koufax to calm himself.
After strike six or seven and a few foul balls, Cole began to move forward.  The moaning was becoming more intense, and at this place in Red’s apartment, he could see their bodies.  Blackie was on top or was that Red. No, for sure it was Blackie but she was bigger… “Damn,” thought Cole, “her body is perfect.  Red’s hot, but damn, Blackie was…freaking perfect” Cole had a hard time focusing on any form of thought, as he began closing in on the couple.  If he could just make it to the side bathroom next to their room, he could watch for awhile until they were finished; it was the proper thing to do—letting them finish that is. 

Edging closer, the heat in the apartment began to grow and was becoming so intense Cole was getting a little light headed.  The girls' bodies were glistening with sweat, and Red seemed to grind harder from below every time a drop of sweat fell on her body. Blackie’s hair was everywhere and just wet enough to stick in all the right places on both of their bodies.
As Cole closed in on the bathroom, he could  Blackie’s fingers surfing the waves of Red’s body. The lily white skin of her fingers moved around the side of Red’s thigh.  “Lucky fingers.”  As her hand returned to Red’s stomach, it seemed to be changing color. “What the hell?” And then shape. What had once been the perfect right hand on the perfect woman was now a black….             

Pro Se is excited about its free web pulp
"The Book of Green"
This will run every night "The American" does not.
Written and Illustrated by Fuller Bumpers

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