Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Comments may be sent to; ari28@earthlink.net





   In the back of the club, she waited, but her friend didn't show up.  She
went out for a few minutes, waiting at the top of the staircase.  Looking
around the dark street trying to make up her mind.  What was broken inside
of her led her back into the club.  She set her self up.  Straight leg
jeans and a simple blouse, thin brown hair.  Thin sleek body.  Young and
plain.  Still, she was younger than most women in the club, and young is
enough.  Again in the back of the club.  Crossing her arms, moving around a
bit.  Sitting by yourself is an invitation.  Cruisers approach her one
after another.  Eventually, what she waited for begins.  He is a broad
shouldered brooklynite.  Black haired with a poor complexion.  He works her
foot after she gives her permission, his fingers kneading, working the
toes, the ridged parts.  It makes no difference to her who he is.  He has
hands, a mouth.  He will do everything she wants, everything she lets him.
She needs to do nothing but receive.  It's her first time, she goes too
far. Lets him do more than she intended.  The jeans come off.  Bare thighs
separate.  His hand works between them.  Sweat drips onto her stomach.  His
breath is on her stomach.  His tongue penetrates her.  She traps his head
with her legs.  She looks up.  A crowd presses in around the two of them.
Hands grip exposed members.  The crowd pushes in further.  A hand lifts her
shirt.  Someone warns the others to back up.  Someone is sitting next to
them.  She'd forgotten.  Her arm is extended.  Her hand finds warm flesh.
Guided to warm flesh.  Sitting next to her, but.  she wants, needs.  She
doesn't understand what makes it so satisfying.  It makes her nervous.  It
adds to the satisfaction.  His mouth works on her as she closes her eyes.
She opens her eyes again.  Looking into the hungry faces around her.  She
arches her back a little.  Involuntary ripples of her stomach.  Finished
between her legs, he rises up.  He lays on top of her.  He kisses her
mouth. She tastes herself, and other things.  Stale, sweet.  She can't see
anything.  His body blocks her vision.  Not seeing anyone, it seems like
she is alone.  His weight is familiar.  Pressing down onto her like.  a
memory she can't acknowledge.  It goes on for a while.  At one point she
straddles his legs, her back turned to the crowd.  The voyeurs never leave.
If they can't be touched, at least they can watch.  It's her first time. 
But she's been looking for this place for a long time.  She started looking
before she knew what she wanted to find.  The club doesn't advertise.  She
found it like everyone else.  Like water seeking it's own level.  When it's
over, she adjusts her clothes self consciously.  She walks to the bathroom.
Inside, she looks into the mirror.  Afraid for just a moment.  It's still
herself looking back.  She feels...  something.  She smiles, laughs back at
her reflection.  All of this suits her.  Really, she's been seeking this
for her whole life.  She is beginning to fall.