NEO-NOIR-EROTICA (Excerpt)

She was absolutely right, of course—and she’s got the perfect insight to know the deal. Of course she does. She was a horny teenager. Too much barely satisfied—but her advice was logical nevertheless. If a girl put herself there, she was ready. If she weren’t, she’d be somewhere else, avoiding boys and playing with dolls. All virgins stopped being virgins at one point or another. That’s how it works.

I remember my first time.

It was equally overwhelming to step into this strange, wonderful, adult, new world. I wanted it badly, but at the same time, I almost talked myself out of it. Ironically, the doubt I felt didn’t change anything. The inevitable was inevitable and, at some point, I crossed over. I wasn’t a virgin anymore. That was that.

It’s time to get past those fears and forget the past. We’re adults now, and this is far from our first experience. Both of us have lived a lifetime since then.

Nina’s sounding like a virgin, again, screaming, pleading for me to stop doing what I’m doing, doubting the moment, doubting herself, believing that such a big thing won’t fit into such a small space. She needs reminding of her own wisdom and that the inevitable is inevitable. After all, she put herself in this situation. She’s truly ready for it. She just doesn’t know it. It’ll go exactly how it’s meant to go, just like she explained it many times before.

“It’ll hurt just once, dear,” I said reassuringly.

I pull out a little and then give her body one last shove from behind, watching her head scrape on the underside of the bar.

“My ears! My ears, Mitchell!”

I hear the awkward sounds of human flesh compressing against the steel components of the bed. I can see her right ear crumple backwards as it passes beneath it.

“YEOOOW!!! NO MITCHELL NOOO!!!”

It’s like listening to a sixteen-year-old virgin. She’s tensing up, hands flailing about the place grabbing at anything that’ll allow her to push backwards and reduce the pain. She can’t find anything so her head slowly continues to creep forward, grinding against the bar and the frame, raking the skin back until her head finally pops out on the other side. The gap snaps shut as the mattress rises and clamps her neck against the bar.

“YOU FUCKING COCK-SUCKING FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!”

I feel the heat in her body rising to a new level.

My memory of taking someone’s cherry never included such anger. They usually cried and curled up on one side of the bed in a mess of hair and tears.

She rattles the bar and pushes it against the wall on the other side and shouts again, “Have you gone totally fucking mad Mitchell? That fucking hurt! Jesus Christ! I told you it was hurting me. Didn’t you hear? Get me out of here! Shit! I told you, and you still did it! You’ve ripped my goddamn ears off! What the hell is wrong with you?”

I couldn’t care less. I achieved what I wanted and so move back and forth in a steady rhythm again.

“Don’t you do that! I said don’t do that!”

Or what? You’ll tell your mother? She doesn’t want to know. You’re too old for that. Perhaps you’ll turn around and slap me. You can’t do that either.

“Get me out! And don’t do that! I said don’t do that! You son of a bitch! You stop that now! You get me out of here! Shit, my ear’s bleeding!”

Bleeding? That’s no concern of mine. Blood is part of the deal. You’re over the hardest bit anyway. It’s time to pick up the pace and get back to business. Give it another minute or two. I’m sure you’ll change your mind.

(From the novel SEETHINGS)

Enjoy your day and don’t forget to get yourself a copy! –M