August 2001 / Volume Two / Issue Two | ||||||||||
Larry Griffin | ||||||||||
Which is Exactly What I Do the Very Night I Return to the States Another night . . . inhaling her perfume, pleasures, in the king size bed at the Excelsior . . . "We'll always have that weekend in Little Rock." That night you tell her your fantasy: Yourself in bed with two beautiful women, who both look just like her, of course. Black women whom you loved, you dream of them that night, but the erection with which you awake she blows you to remove: Oh, you are so satisfied as you tour the Old State House and review the renderings of the Thorncrown Chapel. I invited her to meet me at lunch at my house on Bissextile Day- there we fucked and gave ourselves the glow and glory of that nooner, possible only every four years, and inserted a memory into our lives to recall some four years whence my erection will thereafter become an icon of an earlier time together. It was late, then and the moon shone through the window . . . in the living room I pulled off her skirt and dress . . . she wore no panties. I unhooked her bra as I lowered her onto the Chinese carpet where I thrust into her until she came screaming hopeful obscenities high up the fourteen-foot walls. Then I continued until her breathing evened out again, so that before I could ejaculate into the full heat of her vagina she pulled me out and into her mouth where I came to her joy and with a content that never left her. As she swallowed . . "Hey, I love the taste of you . . . and I don't want to ever stop . . . Yeah, you know I'm talking to you . . . Look, you're hard again in my hand, so please follow me to the bathroom. I have to go." You follow her to the bathroom, watch her pee as you finish a story- In this one you are in love with a French woman who prefers that you know her every orifice each time she takes you down. After she finishes and before she rises, she reaches out and takes my penis- pulls me closer to her and takes me again in her mouth- I did not know I'd come again- June. Dyersburg. Birds sing above the hum of the window unit air conditioner . . . |
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