As a black bat hanging upside down on the wrought iron rail of the spiral staircase Belgian art nouveau annex He sleeps during the day with his thighs tightened to the hard iron If he turns sometimes his shoulder will be grazed by razor-sharp black Lily leaves He holds the Iron strap firmly between his legs and his organ starts to roar From dawn to dusk it ripples in a voluptuous stupor Four stories high life-threatening and forbidden (the elevator shaft is in the other main stairwell) only the pleasure of penetrating to the marrow will save it from submersion Lust is stronger than life
At dusk a distant clanging of keys passes through the numbness: the unknown occupant of the floor came home He can hear you unloading matat He sees her going through the room to get the remote and he picks up his head because there's a strange noise hitting his ear from the back stairs Fluttering or just one window open? Curiosity leads to the back door of the shaded apartment As he opens it a warm pool of light flows around the man's feet drawing the outlines of a crouched creature in the fetal position His eyes rest on it Slowly quietly approaching With his big rough hands he smooths his pale little face with his little finger he separates his lips pushes his middle big finger behind his teeth and slides his fingertips further and further into the sensitive palate backwards and forwards You can feel the fever in your mouth It's sucked into the soft slippery depths of the cavity She sighs With his other hand he weaves the weary wings around his neck slowly slipping his hand between the railing and thigh patiently pushing his forearm towards the center of the fetal position until he feels the weight of the light body With his arms he draws the lower body towards him to peel it off the railing He pushes his own hip between the thighs until the bat reaches his waist He'll lick it up The little creature can feel the world moving with it one wing slipping its tiny hand clinging to the muscular breast Like a blood transfusion the warmth of the big body flows into him In the kitchen it's a warm Half-Light sezlon gently falling down with it lying next to it embracing it She's rocking it The bat sticks to it immerses itself in it undresses the death of the days turns Ugly vampire His hungry lips tremble he cries he sits on it Out of her mouth can't get enough of feltartó with countless people wallowing in the hot sóhajtó meat Oh boy He drinks his bodily fluids giddy they bring him back to life his eyes fill with tears He holds his big thighs wildly between his legs and in the depths a storm rages yet still He whispers to her in his feverish desire choking stuttering crying He takes the storm wing flies it up It flies through the window to far-off landscapes where as a famous sex sociologist he does empirical research (where the most extreme varied elements are incorporated into the fantasy) He is so exhausted that by dawn he will fall half-dead on the painted glass window of the Belgian art nouveau staircase that he will lay his wings on the wall until the twilight of the dream until he finds the big peaceful devoted male body
By the time Trevor came out of the bathroom he had already picked up Joe Casley-Hayford's White puplin shirt on the elocattic Wonderbrara button-up
- What are you doing?
- I'll be right there
- Where are you going?
- I don't know
- Because I don't want to stay
- Then you understand I'm only giving you £ 10
- Suit yourself
And with all due respect I think you're a coward You're scared that's why you're leaving This relationship means too much to you
- I forgive you Bye
He didn't fight back he didn't talk back he didn't adjust he didn't laugh in his eyes he didn't even dispute the price He didn't shrug his shoulders Why? Trevor was in love with her in a petty selfish self-deluded 55-year-old superior-financial-professional kind of way He needed the $ 100 the usual already discounted $ 2OO of course would have come in handy but he let it go Now that you knew the fat scholarship was coming you and Trevor need to spend an entire night of your sudden loss of contentment But on the one hand who knows when he'll need it again it's a shame to burn all the bridges and on the other hand neither Trevor nor the £ 1OO was worth the circus he didn't care enough to humiliate him to be honest to tell the truth What difference does it make? All he wanted was a big sponge with lukewarm water to wash his touch off The hotel had a bottle or two of Macon-something at a nearby bar before bed Dizzy nauseous He's not used to drinking during the summer
He wanted to be at home in the dump in Brixton on our street in his own bed lay on the ground wishing for his own lavender futon with his own black Dunna red sheets Where the starry sky looked down from the ceiling on the white walls were stencils imitating black lace brillerose five pointed stars with graphites deep purple curtains metal window frames and mantelpiece two large mirrors renewed from decontamination The O)