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| ok switch -- here's something... I wonder if you can tell me what perspective it's written from? (I wrote it back in February) at night, our flaws are less visible.
I'd never thought much about the differences -- we talk about "our day" in the daytime, in daylight. As if it were an invitation granted to us by some Jay Gatsby-esque benevolence neither human nor god -- just sort of but not US -- Noblesse Obligerie "come into the light of day" sharing.
Pompous arrogant bastard.
All cats are gray in the dark.
There is anonyminity, uniformity, equality in the dark.
There is flesh, and heat, music, and most of all ourselves; unaware of the external, wrapped up in the internal.
I love conversations at night when it is just the two of us, no light to distract me into the snare of how beautiful you are -- when your voice and all the nuances of the sounds we make paint a clearer picture than I can see in the sharp glare of light's suffering.
I envy the blind. Not the ones who lost their sight, the ones who never had it -- and so are unaware of being looked at, thinking we all must be intimate and careful and fully aware of the shapes of things and hear what is being said; rather than detoured by a swirl of color, by the distances in one another's eyes.
I could say all that to you, but what I do say is....
(guess?...) "Talk to me and touch me." the soft chuckle is like a kiss, your hands like only your hands can be, and they reshape the form that exists only for you, sculpting me from nothingness into our desire.
This is the power you wield. That I gave you. Before I knew you existed.
How sweet to be a woman for you, my jewel.
A pillow for your head,
my body for your bed,
my heat to feed you,
my need yours to quench
and satiate your own.
my words -- your music -- our dance.
love you. I hate mornings. | |
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From Male perspective | K -- first attempt here...ummm.... sorta got sex on the brain, sorry if I offend anyone's sensibilities. yeah there is a paragraph or two from his then hers...or at least my version of it... Gerry Merceo groaned as consciousness battled for dominance against a fleeting whisp of a dream involving cojoined twin sisters and a field of organic lettuce. Somewhere his cell phone was screeling “Little Brown Jug�?which meant his boss Cynthia Dersh was bright eyed and brushy tailed and looking for someone to bite. The phone was on the nightstand, with his watch, wallet and... he realized he could have let voice mail deal with it a beat after he mumbled into the Nokia, “What?�?nbsp; Gerry figured "hello" was too pleasant a greeting, God knows what could get started if he didn't sound annoyed.
“Good morning to you too, Sunshine. I trust the reason you aren't awake and on your way to the office is all the hard work you put into the Helmsford presentation last night?"
Gerry laughed silently. “Not my problem -- you gave that to Bryan. I was chasing leads for Aquisitions. Pembrooke and Collier.�?BR> “oh...right. Where are you?�?in the backgound, Gerry could hear Cynthia's long time companion CNN news on one of her many household plasma monitors. From the sound of her breathing, she was in the gym. He hoped to God she was in her gym.
“I honestly don't know.�?nbsp; Gerry sat up in the strange bed, looked around the unfamilar room. “I left the office at 10. Went to see some College friend's band...ungh. Was there a point to calling me, or were you just lonely for a man's voice at the crack of ..�?he glanced at his Rollex, “Noon..?�?uh-oh.
Cynthia burst into laughter. “Merceo, you kill me. What day of the week is it -- no fair cheating and looking at that watch of yours."
“No offense, but I think I just woke up in a Warren Zevon song. I'll call you back.�?nbsp; Gerry pulled himself up and went to the window. It was dark outside -- predawn? sunset? and he didn't recognize anything. His watch said 12. Someone had pulled out the mechanism that set it...he vaguely remembered he had done it. Now that he was becoming more awake he looked at the room: his clothes were picked up and neatly thrown across a chair by the bedside. He was in a hotel room. He'd been drinking. From the foil wrappers strewn on the nightstand and surrounding area and his aches in places he hadn't ached in a while, he surmised he had a hell of a night.
And he couldn't remember any of it. Gerry moved like a sleepwalker into the bathroom to answer another call. He didn't feel panicked; confused yes, mildly hung over, oh yeah -- but to be this fogged you'd think it would be a near death experience. He finished, flushed; ran some tap water and splashed his face; pulled a paper cup and drank -- and looked at himself in the mirror.
He looked like he'd been tortured. His lips were swollen and abraided, he had marks on his neck, chest, abdomen -- and thighs. Running his hands over the tender areas he twisted and saw how thorough she'd been. She? Gerry shivered. His body tightened as a few memories surfaced. Oh yeah. Definitely a "she". Five times the maneater Cynthia dreamed she was in her Cosmo designer wardrobe and Dragon Lady manicure. “Aaron didn't tell me you were a hottie,�?/EM> Gerry could hear HER voice, saw HER clearly now -- jesus, he'd been done by a --
The room's door unlocked, opened. She must have seen the empty bed. "Gerry?..." That voice, smart and silky.
"Bathroom." he called out.
“I got you a coffee. Took a guess you'd like a straight regular." a pause. “Mind if I come in?�?BR> Gerry grabbed a towel and hitched it tight across his hips -- then stopped himself; feeling like a doofus. Yep -- just a horny ol' doofus; he said, “I'm naked, Mardi.�?
“Yeah, you would be.�?She opened the door. Fully dressed in a blazer, blouse, jeans, shoes: Mardi Eisig was holding two Starbucks bags. “thought you could use some caffeine and carbs before you left.�?she said, cheekily.
“that's nice of you.�?he watched her eyes move over his body; sparkle at the evidence of her effect on him. “You do that for all your boy toys?�?He'd meant it to be funny, and winced inside at the petulance in his delivery.
“You ought to be nice to a woman with a pint of hot coffee and a free shot.�?she said softly... and sounded disappointed. “I can get your jeans.�?Mardi set the bags on the counter and turned.
“I'm sorry.�?nbsp; Gerry spoke so quietly he thought he might not have been audible. “I never... I guess I should have read the memo.�?he managed to get out.
Mardi was sharp. "oh yeah. You didn't get a copy? The Guys Guide to being a Groupie?�?lightly.
“Nope. Maybe you can give me the talking points?" He pulled on her sleeve. “I'm -- it's just...�?BR> Mardi turned, smiling. “First time as a sex object?�?BR> Gerry smiled back. “You've ruined me for other women, you really have.�?She moved into his arms -- the feel of her clothes again his body gave him a lightheaded feeling, or was it the feel of those musician's hands that sent blood rushing heavily to other regions. Gerry giggled.
“Ticklish?�?she asked sweetly.
“naaaaah.�?he sighed. “well maybe a little. On the inside.�?BR> “ok... tell me before I hurt you.�?she said, roughly: met his eyes. “I mean -- you know what I mean.�?BR> Gerry regarded that face. “Too late, I think.�?BR> “I'm so sorry Ger. Anything I can kiss and make better?�?BR> "I dunno -- I have a real cranky female boss who likes to call me at the crack of dawn so I can be rude to her -- get her in the right frame of mind for the work day,�?he offered “think you can kiss her off my mind?�?BR> “Merceo -- you should write songs.�?The guitarist chuckled, humming/singing, "baby's got a way, a way to kisss my my pain away.. she kisses all the other girls off my mind..." humming some more and kissing him she suddenly stopped kissing, her focus slipped into composition.
Gerry chuckled. “Go ahead.�?BR> “It's not that -- it's just --�?He turned her around and gave her a gentle push to the other room.
“I know. I used to... just grab it Mard." The woman of his dreams -- not the goofy dreams, the make it real ones -- turned and squeezed him in her arms, plundered his mouth with another gear stripping kiss and bolted for her guitar. Gerry listened to her tune up -- quick and sure -- as she played through a chord he opened up the Starbucks bag. One black -- one regular -- both large. The other bag had a couple chocolate crossiants. Gerry Merceo smiled, brought the coffee out to Mardi; wondering if it was possible to call in to Cynthia. “I was kidnapped by the band -- we're in Mexico... It'll take me a while to get back to the office...�?/EM> he looked at Mardi Eisig. She smiled at him -- Baby actually wrote the notes down on paper, look at that!
“I wish you didn't have to go. To work.�?She said.
“Maybe I'll call in.�?he nodded. “Nice -- That a Gibson?�?BR> She rolled her eyes at him and they both laughed.
He picked up his phone and pulled on his jeans... and called Cynthia from the other room. -------------------------------------------------- “You've met someone, haven't you?�?Louise braced for incoming.
“I've met a lot of people.�?Mardi Eisig looked over the case, wondering what was the appropriate tribute for a sex god. Muffins? Too domestic. Definitely not a donut, even if they were Krispy Kremes.
“Twoosie, I can tell from 3 thousand miles -- you just had great sex. Please don't tell me you finally nailed Aaron.�?Louise groaned.
Mardi nearly dropped the phone. “Not even for science, Lou. Ewwwww. Aaron? I mean -- Aaaaron? The twig?�?nbsp; They both laughed. “well -- sort of a relative. You know how Aaron's always talking about that great guitar player from college.."
“The one you threatened you'd stuff your strat down his throat ass end first if he kept talking about him? Gerard..? Gerrund..?�?she scrambled for the name.
“Geraint. Like the Knight.�?Mardi smiled as she said it.
“In what language?�?Louise asked.
“huh.. oh -- No, not N-I-G-H-T. duh. King Arthur. His given name is Geraint: Gerry Merceo.�?BR> “oh my god. Not another Italian. Honey you know you have bad chemistry with Italians.�?Louise sighed.
“Well if he's Italian, he's northern Italian. Very fair. And tall." she stepped up to the counter, ordered two coffees, one black, one regular. “what is it that smells so good? besides the coffee?�?Mardi grinned at the barrista.
“We just pulled some chocolate crossaints from the oven.�?He smiled back.
�?EM>Ooh, yes please. I mean. two of those, too.�?Mardi didn't blush -- but she thought the counter guy did.
“oh no. This doesn't sound good. Did you just order chocolate for breakfast?" Louise asked her sister.
“oh shush.�?Mardi flushed. “Louz -- I really do like him. I mean -- crazy eat him up like him.�?BR> “You said he's tall? That's not like you. You like to keep pets.�?Louise poured herself another cup of coffee from the office pot.
“Gerry could be a perfect pet. Very...responsive.�?Mardi paid for her purchase -- took the two bags and ignored the Barrista's "Hope to see you again.�?BR> “What did you do, you Goody-two-shoes? Please don't tell me the police came.�?Louise thought about that occasion and shuddered.
“Ha -- if I was calling you from lock-up I'd have asked for bail by now. This was like... getting behind the wheel of a really hot car, and going through the mountains.�?she pushed the door into the wind and started walking back to her hotel. “He was synched. Just amazing.�?Mardi thought again, "I wonder what he sounds like.." and shook it off.
“When did you meet him?�?Loise asked.
“ummmm...�?BR> “you just met him last night. And you commenced to do the wild thing all night long?�?Louise waited for a denial. “ookaay. So what does he do, besides get to wear your knees for earflaps?�?BR> “I have no clue. We talked about music, food, and mirror neurons. At one point I think my speech center imploded... I..probably shouldn't of...Did I completely blow this?�?Mardi looked up at the hotel, suddenly afraid to go into her room. He'd been snoring and sighing when she'd decided to tear herself away and get coffee. Maybe he'd been faking and he'd just been waiting for a chance to escape without small talk. Mardi was new at this -- she was exactly what Louise called her, a Goody Two Shoes and she'd never indulged sexually from the smorgasborg of Backstage Johnnies before. Aaron had joked it would take more than whiskey and a crowbar to get her knees apart..oh god. Mardi had a sudden wrenching vision of Gerry and Aaron making a bet. Aaron she could believe it of. Aaron was a degenerate who's profound lack of manners was only matched by his gutter taste in women. The perfect front man. Hard to imagine how anyone with any sort of class could not cringe admitting that yes indeed he knew Aaron Czuka very well.
Gerry had smiled. Genuinely smiled.
Mardi realized she hadn't been listening to Louise for half a block. "I'll call you later, k?�?BR> “ok. Mardi -- good luck. I hope it works out.�?Louise said what she could. Mardi quietly unlocked the door, locked it behind her -- saw the bed was empty but his clothes were where she'd left them -- laid out over a guitar case in a chair. Her eyes went to the bathroom door. "Gerry?" amazing she could force sound through the dry lump in her throat.
“Bathroom�?said it just the way a bored kid would answer a school roll call. Mardi had shoved her phone in her pocket when she'd gotten her key; she realized she was still holding the key and returned it to her jacket
“I got you a coffee. Took a guess you'd like a straight regular." a pause. “Mind if I come in?�?she asked, feeling a little dizzy at that burst of nerve.
“I'm naked, Mardi.�?the voice on the other side of the door sounded -- teasing, to her. Ok -- she could do that.
“Yeah, you would be.�?She opened the door. “thought you could use some caffeine and carbs before you left.�?she said -- OMG did I do all that?! Oh boy. he had been fair -- now he was tiger marked. Mardi was rivetted. If she saw a woman marked like that, she'd think the poor thing had been savagely gang raped...um, like there was a non-violent rape..?
“that's nice of you.�?She heard Gerry say from a distance. “You do that for all your boy toys?�?That brought her back: did he think -- well how could he NOT? Mardi felt sick and ashamed; everything she'd feared was spooling off the reel. This wasn't what she wanted... but keep the banter up, dropping to your knees and begging for forgiveness would be pathetic.
“You ought to be nice to a woman with a pint of hot coffee and a free shot.�?she said softly... ready to cry. (don't you dare!) “I can get your jeans.�?Mardi set the bags on the counter and turned.
“I'm sorry.�?he sounded embarrassed.. “I never... I guess I should have read the memo.�?he managed to get out. Mardi went stiff inside. WTF??
"oh yeah. You didn't get a copy? The Guys Guide to being a Groupie?�?she snapped at him.
“Nope. Maybe you can give me the talking points?" he joked lamely; pulled on her sleeve. “I'm -- it's just...�?waitaminute... maybe... is it possible he likes me?
Mardi turned, smiling. “First time as a sex object?�?Jesus god almighty I could do you again right here on the tile, Stud.
Gerry smiled back. “You've ruined me for other women, you really have.�?perfect. Mardi didn't care that it was a dumb line, it felt like an invitation to touch him again, so she did.. Gerry giggled.
“Ticklish?�?she asked tenderly, repeating the movement.
“naaaaah.�?he sighed. “well maybe a little. On the inside.�?BR> “ok... tell me before I hurt you.�?she said, roughly: met his eyes. “I mean -- you know what I mean.�?oh. busted. That was too honest.
Gerry regarded her face. “Too late, I think.�?BR> Mardi looked into his eyes; a hundred questions backed up on her tongue, all writhing behind the L word. It was too early for that. She'd barely kicked the tires. “I'm so sorry Ger. Anything I can kiss and make better?�?/FONT> ...VG. | |
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