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The man shot into the back of my mouth. He collapsed to his knees. ‘Sorry … Sorry.’
I spit out his grains. I didn’t say a word.
The guy stood up quickly. I watched him from the ground. A body loomed over me, a floating head and bulbous gut. He was pulling up his pants, zipping, trying to say something.
‘It’s okay,’ I shrugged. I didn’t care if men hated me, I didn’t care that Adi was gone.
This time burned its shit knowledge in.
Light was sinking down slowly through the branches. It turned the trees into spotty grey poles. I watched the guy walk away until his back disappeared. When I dug out his fold, I was smiling.
There, from my window in the middle of the day, walking through the parking lot away from the club, there in the middle of the shining concrete – he looked like a man walking out of the desert.
I lifted the screen and stuck my head out. I started waving my arms from side to side in the air.
‘You! Wait!’
I flung myself halfway out the window. He didn?
?t stop.
‘Gio! Look!’
He turned to face me. I put my hands on my breasts and squeezed them together.
‘Come up here, you fucking asshole!’
Gio used his hand over his eyes to shelter them from the sun. I unbuttoned my shirt and took off my bra. I let my tits hang out in the air. Gio’s head tilted sideways.
‘Come up here! Come! I need to talk to you!’
Gio’s body rocked from side to side. I pinched my nipples between my fingers. I was keeping him there, watching me. For the very first time in my life it felt like what I wanted and what I was doing was exactly the same thing.
Gio raised his free hand in the air. First it was a fist. Then it was a finger, the pointing one.
One second? One minute? What the fuck did that mean?
‘I can’t wait anymore, come on!’ I pressed the brick window ledge to fly out even more.
Gio moved his first finger from side to side. Tsk-tsk, it was saying. Don’t be a bad girl.
‘Fuck off! I’m not scared of you!’
A sluggish smile spread across his lips. His white shirt billowed behind him like a sail.
‘I need you right now!’ I shrieked into the wind.
But Gio turned away from me. His finger was still pointed up in the air. One minute? One year? One hundred fucks more? I’d be a good girl. I wanted him.
One week from the window scene, from Gio’s one finger held like a match in the air, I’d made almost one thousand dollars. I stretched one finger up from my fist when I took off my clothes and shook it onstage. Code meant: Fuck me. Fuck me, Man. I will fuck you and you will fuck me.
The smallest dicks were always the meanest. They jutted in too fast and they never slid out, just in, in, in … Big dicks were kinder. Little-dicked men wanted to kill. They made me suck their horns with my hands behind my back. Some men who came to me couldn’t even fuck. They’d just sit there and sob, stroke their soft pack of veins. God, I saw so many cocks. They came to my door in one long line.
I didn’t believe that I’d ever get dry. I thought: How can a woman ever get dry? But sometimes my cunt really hurt when I fucked, like a space getting carved from a heap that’s too thin. But then, other times, it felt like a monster! It would get so fat, all the juices ganged up. When Gio came back after one week to see me, god, the first time, I swear, my cunt was like a buggy banging up and down on a rough, potholed road, being dragged by four horses, horses pulling on my lips, horses stretching the skin from my cunt over holes, so that each time I bumped up and down it was – god! – pouring love from my holes, bumping over more holes.
I danced all for him. I was a one-pointed light.
Nighttime, nighttime. Flies on the screen.
