SHORT STORY 3
T H E - S M A L L - H O U R S
SHORT STORY 3
THE SMALL HOURS
This is a true story. As true as my subjective bias can recall it.
Inevitably, my sleep patterns have become shit again. Staying up later and later, until now I seem to suffer from a constant state of jet-lag. Summer finally arrived but the days have only shortened for me. Leaving me trapped in an endless dream-state that spills into my consciousness. But my dreams have become a mere mockery of my real life. It's all a fucking joke. A real bad fucking joke. And I have no proof but my memories. So, I'll write it all down before the naysayers put me in their shoes. Yet they weren't fucking there. So here, try on my Chuck Taylors for size.
Okay. Let's put this in context. I finished the third draft of Part 1 of my book Bark, on the last day of April, so I felt the need for a few days break to clear my head from all that demented shit that I've been working on. Yeah, like that's going to happen. This will never end.
Wednesday, May the 1st, came with a huge party on the streets of Berlin, which was pretty much just music festival. I didn't see any political agenda on display for this supposed May-day. You rebels-without-a-reason are getting slacker every year. It was only about hanging out in the sun with friends, and then sex until we were soaking.
Thursday, May the 2nd, came with the death of Jeff Hanneman from Slayer. Death is the best reminder to appreciate life. But what life do I really have to give a shit about?
Friday, May the 3rd, and a cute blonde from Hamburg wasted my fucking time, teasing me with her lies about how much she wanted to model for my art. Always with the: maybe, maybe, maybe. She sent photos posing in her underwear just to show off the shape of her hips – which were excellent. But she's another waste of my fucking time! Females fall into two categories. 1, they jump at an opportunity spontaneously. 2, they hum and har, and say maybe, maybe, maybe, but they never actually do. I'm too intolerant for these professional fucking procrastinators. After all, there's always more meat in the market. Always!
Saturday, May the 4th, and I found a cheap plastic, scary mask in a costume shop. I couldn't stop laughing at how fucked-up I looked in the mirror. It's fucking terrific! So, I wore it to the birthday of a burlesque performer from Hamburg. Naturally the shots began to flow, while some chick wearing a horse mask rode the birthday girl like she was a wild bull. There was another performance from a friend dressed like a male blow-up doll, and then with a KA-BOOM, his fully erect hard-on fired a fuck-load of glitter all over the birthday girl's face! Later, an ex gave me shit for texting girls in front of her, even though she'd been telling sleep-over stories about guys with small dicks. I smiled, called her a 'paranoid whore', and then pulled on my scary mask as I simply walked away into the small hours toward another party in Mitte.
Sunday, May the 5th, was a Mad-Hatter-themed birthday party for a dominatrix friend in a small garden south of Berlin. Another sunny Sunday with the usual-suspects all looking as one would expect after a Saturday night of drugs, drink, and other incestuous debauchery – plus funky hats! Later, I headed to a movie night at friend's place, as another girl text me, saying she finally decided that she really wanted to model for my art. Third time lucky.
Monday, May the 6th, was when I spent all day animating the trailer for Bark. By 'all day', I meant all day and night, and I didn't stop until the birds were fucking annoying me outside my window.
Tuesday, May the 7th, a friend suddenly wanted to take psychotic naked photos with me after she had become inspired from some retarded internet meme. I said why the fuck not. And my scary mask looked exactly how I felt: hungry for lunacy!
Wednesday, May the 8th, was the La Féte Fatale #12. I dressed as Major Obnoxious, the big fat pig in a tux, and did my dirty work: grabbing tits and ass, and getting the fucking party started! Everyone loves a dancing pig. Ah, the flesh of so many pretty girls. Once the performances were done, I crawled out of my sauna of a pig suit, grabbed my scary mask, and then danced the fucking morning away.
Thursday, May the 9th, I woke up at god knows what time in the afternoon. I fucking hate giggling children outside in the sun while I'm trying to sleep myself to fucking death! Eventually, I dragged my ass out for coffee with friends. Then, later at home, I Skype-fucked a new friend in Munich until we were both hot and sticky. The internet, it's a hell of a drug!
Friday, May the 10th, I rose just in time to see the sun go down, and then met an ex at the Strychnin Gallery for a new exhibition of creepy porcelain dolls. Afterward, while on our way to Kreuzberg for another birthday, I was laughing so hard at a joke that I literally vomited cola out my nose! At the bar, I followed the birthday boy into the corner of a crowded room where I stopped and frowned as he opened a cupboard and crawled inside… What the fuck? There was a hidden staircase within the cupboard leading down to their secret basement party. I met loads of Italians fresh off the fucking boat down there. Some Russian guy befriended my ex, as naturally, he spoke eight fucking languages fluently – and he sounded like a fag in every fucking tongue! Leaning over, he said what a shame it was that I wasn't queer too. He laughed while undressing me with his beady little eyes. That night, I noticed that my ex was wearing my lion-skull engagement ring (the one that I had custom made for another ex back in 2006), so I slipped it on again. Other douchebags were lighting their vodka-breath on fire, so I scaled the narrow stairs to a sofa in the main bar, where two beautiful French kids had just begun a super-serious conversation about tedious technology. I sat in silence unable to tune out their voices, until the skinny chick abruptly asked what I thought about the topic. The boy quickly leaned over, as he added, "Are you political?"
By 4am, I ended up walking toward my doorstep, where yet another ex was waiting in the shadows. Waiting for me.
Saturday, May 11th, I woke up and found my ex texting someone else in my bed, but sweet Jesus, was I horny! So, I fucked her something brutal! She left, and I lay there wondering how much more I needed to do in order to reach the total destruction of empathy? The internet later told me about a release party at the Babylon theater that night. So, I put on my dress shoes, a clean white shirt, black vest, jacket, and tie; and I soon found myself among my drag queen and artist friends. It started to rain before the film, yet I lingered outside, introducing myself to a cute journalist who was waiting for her photographer. How I keep running into gorgeous women seems to be the way the universe works. What can I say, I'm fucking charming! The screening turned out to be a documentary about trashy, hard-core, burlesque performers. Afterward, I went for drinks with the organizers, and soon was chatting up an Italian dancer. Once again, I didn't get to sleep until the sun came up.
Sunday, May 12th, I was invited to a Polish art-porn exhibition by a new fan of my work. Later, I got a message from a girl canceling our Earl Grey date, but another text said that I was on the guest-list for the Sepultura gig that night at SO36. Right after the gig, my last ex sent a message, saying that she really needed to confess that she had just fucked my gym-buddy... I wrote back to her, "You're only human."
Am I the devil?
Is the devil the ultimate humanist?
Humans are meat: worthless but fucking tasty!
Midnight came, and I slipped back into my dress shoes, walked out into the small hours, and strolled up to the Primitive bar. I was too late for the Sunday Soirée, but I had a drink while reflecting over the last few weeks as the bar slowly emptied out. There is no conclusion, there is only continuation. After all my work, all my art, all my experiences, all I have learned, and all I have failed; all I really am, in a holistic sense, is just a miserable son of a bitch in a black jacket and hoody. I saw nothing but random chaos and bullshit, so I started texting girls in other cities. I loathed the very notion of tomorrow. And then one girl texted back, telling me to go to sleep. I smirked bitterly and walked away.
Plugging in my headphones, I listened to Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds, We Real Cool, and headed down Revaler Strasse. Under low hanging trees, I went toward the train tracks, where I watched some guy walking his dog in the sheer dark of an empty lot. Emerging from the trees, I found myself face to face with the so-called 'gentrification' of Friedrichshain. That's a fucking word I'd never even heard of until a month ago, but now I fucking hear it everywhere. Even the other day, I saw graffiti on a wall saying, "Fuck gentrification!" The word was haunting me. Personally, I couldn't care less about what's happening to the city. It's the natural evolution of any town. And these fucks in Berlin should already know that this place is in a constant state of flux! Stop acting so fucking surprised!
I felt my phone buzz in my jacket pocket. I ignored it. And then I spotted someone else walking down this lonely street littered with heavy construction equipment. A girl. I wanted to look away in disgust, yet I just kept on glaring straight at her distant high heels and shapely legs beneath a billowing dress. I glared right through her silhouette and deep into her flesh with all those subtle movements of breasts below her long, loose hair that was barely lit from a golden lamp. While scowling at her, my fists slowly clenched as thoughts crept violently into my spine.
Am I Bark?
I stopped dead in my tracks.
She stepped into the light, and I instantly recognized that shy face.
Popping out my headphones, I tilted my head, "Mara?"
She leaned in to give me a soft hug. "Bruce, what are you doing out past your bed time?"
"So much for your theory about no physical contact," I replied, stepping back.
She grinned bashfully.
I stared at the meat on her bones.
I've known this dear little Russian Jew for some years now, two or three, but not really. Mara Hershlag was one of those girls who faded into the wallpaper. You could easily mistake her for a small-town librarian. That's about all the attention I gave her. Just a friend of a friend who perpetually looked like she was about give a speech in front of a thousand gang-rapists in a maximum-security prison while she only wore a wet paper-napkin. Anyway, I'm not really sure why I suddenly noticed her last year. Oh, wait. It was her shoes! That's right, she wore some fucking excellent heels. For a mumbling wee thing, she had great taste in stilettos, I'll give her that much. I believe it was at the last Thanks Giving party that I spotted a pair of Prada, and soon my eyes were led upward and astray. Suddenly my brain was deconstructing the very fabric of her blouse and visualizing the curve of her breasts in that congenial atmosphere. She smiled and looked down. Then looked back into my eyes. I turned away and laughed with my friends, and I refused to acknowledge her helpless act. For it is an act! She's a fucking female after all. Yet before she left that night, I suggested that we get a cup of tea someday. I'd never deny the fact that I was attracted to her, I am a fucking male after all! So that weekend we went for drinks. And as the months slowly passed, I began to learn tiny details about her. But the more I learned, the more I had to remind myself that she was a fucking waste of my fucking time. But why was I being such a judgmental asshole to this nice little girl? Well, what did I know about Mara? That she liked nothing more than being alone, she didn't 'date' – not even the internet-millionaires that her friends tried to hook her up with, and apparently, she didn't like being 'touched' by anyone.
"So, you're a big fat fucking liar," I said. "Or did I just hallucinate that hug?"
"Yes, Bruce, it's just a dream," Mara smiled, as we stood in that deserted street with an S-bahn train gently creeping by.
"I heard that if you concentrate on the back of your hands during a dream, you should be able to control it," I smirked, glancing at my tattooed hand. "So why are you still wearing that dress?"
"I'm not…," she replied. "You just have a poor imagination."
"It's true." And I stared blatantly at her breasts – and then she opened her tiny jacket, exposing her cleavage! I slowly cocked an eyebrow at her teasing posture. But then I remembered all the months of excuses that she would come up with, blowing me off every single time that I invited her out to any-fucking-thing at all. I had come to the conclusion long ago that she clearly wasn't into me. So, I looked away, not interested in wasting another minute on her, and began to walk off.
"Where are you going?" Mara chirped up.
"What do you care?" I sneered, not looking back, until I found her strutting up next to me. "Don't you have to get home for your early work day tomorrow?" I asked, as I caught a whiff of her perfume. The smell went straight to my adrenal gland, if you know what I mean.
"Come with me," was all she said, as she suddenly moved ahead and waved down a passing taxi. "Let's go for a ride."
It wasn't a question.
What the fuck, and I climbed into the cab. She told the driver the address, and we were off.
Sitting there in a foul mood, I gazed out the right-hand-side window, having a flashback of when I was seventeen, on late night drives with my best friends. Back when I wanted to do anything but go home. Anything at all. I always liked sitting in the back seat, staring out the window as the night streets blurred on by. But how many times have I been here before. I remember when I was twenty-nine, sitting in a taxi heading to girl's place so that I could fuck her in her sister's bed. Then I was thirty-three, in a cab in Edinburgh with another lover next to me. Then I was thirty-four, and on a road-trip to Rostock with another affair. But now I was thirty-five, and still staring out the window with the cool glass next to my temple. Yet I didn't really know this particular female. A meek little biped. I glanced at her knees, as we drove into Hackescher Markt. I didn't know where exactly, didn't care. All I knew was as soon as she annoyed me, I was going to leaving her fucking ass on the curb.
Stepping onto the footpath, I looked up at your average modern, inner-city apartment building. Speaking of fucking gentrification, Hackescher Markt was the perfect example. But Christ, listen to me. I'm almost starting to sound like I know what the fuck I'm talking about. Let's put the record straight however, after eight years in Berlin, I know precisely Jack-shit. The more I learn, the more I realize how I don't know anything. My mood was a tar pit, and then I suddenly wondered if I really was okay about my ex screwing my friend yesterday. Fuck it. We're all sluts in this town. Everyone was fucking everyone! It's that simple. Ideas of attachment of any form were obsolete. Suffering was pointless, just like emotional justifications for relationships. It was all so fucking rotten to the core that I wanted to see this whole fucking place burn like it was 1945 all over again. Flatten this new Sodom! I was no exception! I'm just as guilty as all of you self-centered fucks! Can you smell all that fucking adultery in the rancid air tonight!
Oh, but wait. As the taxi pulled away, I turned and found it was only Mara standing there. So, let me put my erection away.
"Come on then," she said, marching down a narrow side street without hesitation.
I glanced irritated at the departing taxi. Why did we get out of the cab just to keep walking? Cracking my neck from side to side, I pondered taking a bus to Tegel airport for a Starbucks milk-saturated latte. Unfortunately, though, I'm weak for girls with soft voices – and I looked skyward. God, why haven't you turned me into salt already? Watching Mara's heels walk away, I instantly became a fish on a hook. It's unconscious and uncontrollable, that whole wonderful mystery of attraction. But at the same time, I fucking hated every-fucking-thing! My rational mind was screaming at me like Zack de la Rocha, don't fucking follow her! Yet my legs were already pursuing. I wanted to put a fucking chisel through my own nasal cavity! Idiot!
But fuck it.
Let's see where this is going.
Where the fuck is she going?!
Pulling out my smartphone, I found a message from my Baptist friend, "Keep it strong brother, a good amount of us are going through dark times."
When I looked up, I realized I was completely alone.
Where the fuck had Mara vanish to?
"What's that?" Mara asked from behind. She was standing in the entrance to an old building with a tall metal gate, her finger pointing to the scary mask hanging off the back of my belt. Whipping the mask over my head, I pulled my hood up, and then turned to face her. Mara giggled, and I grunted like a fiend as she stepped up close. She was short, but I was on the street and she stood in heels on the curb. Standing right in front of me, she stared into my eyes behind the mask. And we did nothing. Just stood there. Staring at each other. For the longest time in the dead-empty, dead-center of Berlin.
Then I was filled with repulsion as memories of her depressions, excuses, and insecurities flooded my frontal lobes; and I whispered, "Are you drunk?"
"You know I'm not," she replied, and then crossed the street to another modern minimalist masterpiece of vague stainless architecture. Thumbing a code on the gate, she led me down a side path and around a corner behind the building. Finally, we came to a small staircase above what looked like the entrance to a basement. She tapped at another combination-lock, as I raised my phone and took a photo of her. Shocked, she spun around mortified! She never liked her picture being taken – and that's exactly why I took it. She snatched my phone without a word and deleted the pic. I flicked her the bird with my growing impatience, so in return, she snapped a photo of me while she poked out her tongue. Holding onto my phone, she then pushed open the heavy door with her ass. Goddamn it, that was frustrating!
What the fuck was I doing here?! Though, what the fuck else should I be doing? This was the path of least resistance. I just needed to accept the fact that Mara was as a-sexual as a coffee table. However, I began hoping that she was meeting some of her hot Jewish friends here. But we were in a fucking basement! Ducking my head under the low ceiling packed with pipes, I smiled at another idea, that maybe Mara was in fact a psychopath. The more I thought about it, the more it really made total sense. All of her anti-social behavior and the hints that she had made about her past indiscretions added up to her being a real-life psycho-murderer. However, that would make me the one playing the part of the stupid helpless victim that she had brought willingly into her dungeon of doom! Jesus fuck! Think about it! We met randomly on the street this evening. No one knew I was with her. The taxi even dropped us off on a different street. Holy fucking shit, was I about to get sliced and diced! About fucking time! We all knew it was coming sooner or later. But I never thought Mara would be the one to chop my head off with a rusty ax.
A light then came on from another staircase, and Mara headed up and out of the basement. So much for that demented scenario. Yet another idea then crossed my mind. The fact remains: no one knew that I was with her. And I actually had a fucking knife!
Upon leaving the basement, I was blinded by the neon white of a pristine foyer. I kept my mask on as I entered an open elevator. Mara was standing coyly in the corner of the lift where she handed back my phone before we reached the top floor.
I was staring at my reflection in a mirror as we walked down a dark corridor. That hideous mask suited me much better than my face did. Mara moved quietly ahead and pulled out a set of keys in front of the last door. I casually strolled into a large unlit apartment and went straight to the huge balcony overlooking the roof tops. Suddenly I heard music. Soft but familiar. It was Fever Ray, If I Had A Heart. I remained by the big windows until I felt hands reaching around from behind me. Slowly, Mara's small fingers moved up and under my jacket. Her palms slipping beneath my shirt and across my warm chest. I found myself holding my breath under my mask. Her head rested against my back, and she held on. I didn't do anything. Didn't say anything. We both just listened to the music.
Eventually, she pulled away.
Turning, I grabbed her hand.
She resisted, "Don't."
I held her hand for another moment, but she refused to look at me. Fuck this shit! So, I let her go and I walked away, looking for the bathroom in this unknown penthouse.
Washing my hands after I took a piss, I paused on my reflection again. Wearing ugly masks came fucking easy to me. So, I left it on, and kept my defenses up while in the presence of that passive-aggressive bitch.
Stepping out of the brightly lit bathroom, I discovered voices in the lounge. Two unidentified men in expensive business suits suddenly rose to their feet as I marched toward them – and instantly everything changed. They both started yelling at Mara! I had no idea what language they were shouting, at a guess, it was Hebrew? One of the chumps then charged toward me! So, I stepped up, and he immediately stopped once he realized how much taller I was. Mara was trying to keep calm and explain something, but these two fuckheads didn't seem to be buying it. After all my time in Europe, I've become pretty good at judging what people are on about in other languages just from watching their gestures and listening to their tone of voice. These guys were not amused. The loudest one then did something that I couldn't see, but Mara lunged at him! I was shocked when she flipped this guy right over her shoulder and slammed his entire body weight down upon the unforgiving floor!
The second guy grabbed my collar and pinned me against a wall while pulling out a fucking handgun from his jacket! Before I knew what the fuck was happening, Mara put this second guy in an arm-lock, and then smashed his head into the fucking wall!
Stumbling back, I was as confused as a constipated monkey with shit for brains. Then I saw the first guy shaking his head as he got to his hands and knees. So, I grabbed a foot-tall miniature of the Eiffel Tower and beat that cunt back down to the floor!
Mara also had the second shithead face-down and she was kneeling on the back of his neck. There she immediately tied his suit jacket about his wrists.
Stepping sideways, I took a moment and looked over the bloody Eiffel Tower in my hands. Mara then grabbed my arm and we ran out of that pretty apartment. We hurried down a stairwell, into an underground parking lot, and then Mara drove gently into the empty streets. I had no idea whose car we were in.
Looking around the Bentley's dashboard, I then examined the miniature Eiffel Tower still clenched in my hand. Mara however, didn't seem to have even registered what had just happened. Stopping at a red light, I opened my passenger-side door, when Mara grabbed my shoulder!
"Just getting rid of the evidence," I stated, holding up my bloody weapon. I dumped it in a random trash can on the side of the street, and then off we drove. "Seriously though, Mara… Are you Batman?"
"No!" she was horrified by the idea. "Capes are totally gay!"
I paused, staring at her smooth thighs as she drove through town. I was fascinated by her hands on the steering wheel and her long brown hair over her little tits. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Bruce…," she quietly replied, dead serious, "I'm Batman."
I couldn't help cracking up with laughter, as we pulled into a private driveway leading toward a huge mansion. I think we were somewhere just north of Hauptbahnhof. Slowly chuckling away to myself, I watched as Mara parked in front of the wide front steps below those classic renaissance double doors. There, I figured to go with the flow. It was Mara however, who oddly suggested that I keep the mask on, so I did.
She rang the doorbell, as I glanced around that courtyard full of Mercedes, BMW, and Rolls-Royce automobiles. The doors soon swung open just as Mara quickly hooked her arm around my left elbow. Oh, now we're dating? So much for her no-touching policy. A short, fat butler greeted us in Hebrew? I really don't know what Hebrew sounds like, but I assumed she only knows: English, German, Russian, and Hebrew. Only. Ha! I'm such an uneducated fuck.
We were led through that massive place of marble floors and museum-like works of art on the towering walls, until we found ourselves in a warm lounge. Leather sofas, crystal chandeliers, and about a dozen ladies and gentlemen were seated rigidly about the room, sipping on wine and smoking cigarettes. There was a moment before the polite conversation suddenly ended once they spotted us, and a real fucking tense silence took over. You could almost hear a high-pitched ring that slowly built up like feed-back. So, I abruptly raised my hand and waved excitedly at the gathering, "Hi, guys! How the fuck are you all doing this evening?"
Abandoning Mara, I strolled over to a sofa and sat next to some gorgeous chick in a skin tight, black evening dress.
Glaring at her through my scary mask, I watched that uptight female glance away as I leaned in closer and whispered, "Love your skin."
The conversation started up only after a servant offered me a slender glass of something bubbly. Before I got a chance to ask if they had any Mountain Dew, Mara dragged me after her. She was being led by another old chap in a tux. I saluted farewell to those perturbed guests and blew a kiss at the girl on the sofa, as we disappeared into a private study.
There was a stuffed panther in a corner of the room next to a gigantic fireplace. Mara and the old guy nattered on about Christ knows what, while I moved over to the panther with its dead snout caught in a frozen sneer. Leaning against the wall, I was staring out a window as I stroked the panther's head, wondering if there were any other hot girls around.
"What do you think you're doing?" Mara then asked.
As the old guy stepped out another door, I seized the opportunity, and jumped on the back of the panther, pretending to ride that sucker like I was at a fucking rodeo. "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-har, motherfucker!"
"Stop it!" Mara demanded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get off it, now!"
"Or you'll go all ninja-assassin on my ass?" I asked, pointing both my index fingers at her while rubbing my ass against the panther's smooth back.
"No, but they might stuff you in a sack and deport you to a prison in Libya where you'll get your teeth ripped out long before they even start on your fingernails."
"Well, shit. If you're trying to scare me, you could have just shown me your tits," I immediately fired back, "Or lack of them."
She actually looked hurt – until another two guys in suits entered. Both stared in disgust at what I was doing on the panther… Slowly standing up, I cleared my throat and straightened my jacket – when suddenly the door behind me burst open and I was grabbed! Mara screamed something, but I was distracted by the two huge fucks pulling me out the door. Guess they really did love that panther. Then I was slammed against a wall and punched in my gut by what felt like a fucking bowling ball! Dropping to the floor, I gagged for breath under my steamed-up mask. Those two pricks though, just grabbed my arms and hauled me upstairs.
There, they threw me into another room. Coughing and gasping, I rolled onto my back as I heard the door being locked. Sons of a bitches. Crawling over to the wall, I realized that I was in some plush bedroom. As I stood and stared out the window at the city lights, I had to repeat the question, what the fuck was I doing here? But instead of an answer, I recalled sitting on the rooftop at the studio in Tokyo, back when I was twenty, while listening to Kyuss, Space Cadet. Those little moments of isolation kept returning over the years. Times when you find yourself utterly alone and your only friend is a song. Music: one of the few virtues of mankind.
And then gunshots!
Flinching, I grabbed a lamp. Tearing the cable from the wall, I held that fucker like a baseball bat as I faced the bedroom door.
Screams. Running footsteps. Another gunshot!
And then a fucking helicopter came down outside the window!
Suddenly I was struck by how oblivious I had been to this obvious escape route. I may have been locked in the room, but I used the lamp and bashed out the fucking glass! The grass was spongy as I jumped from the first floor, and landed with a roll, just as the chopper curved around to the back of the building where it touched down in the blackened gardens. Dusting myself off, I glanced toward the parking lot and walked away. Fuck this shit!
Leisurely strolling with my hands in my pants pockets and mask still covering my bitter face, I passed all those polished luxury cars – right when I received a text message. Pulling out my phone, I saw it was from Mara. It just said, "Sorry."
I stopped. That fucking bitch! I looked back at the stone mansion. Cunt! This was that moment in all those movies that I hate, where you're screaming at the fucking idiot to just walk away! Walk the fuck away! Christ, that's what I'm fucking good at! Keep it up! Just walk away, for fuck's sake!
But rational logic is always hostage to temperamental bullshit.
So reluctantly, I slowly headed back toward that fucking helicopter. But why, Bruce, why would you return? Because I always love regretting the stupid shit that I get up to. It's far better than regretting the crap that I didn't do. My ex-girlfriends know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about.
The chopper was powering down, and several guys in suits had come to the back patio where huge windows from a ball room lit the garden.
Quick decision: I whipped off my jacket, hoody, and mask. Pulled my jacket back on and buttoned my black shirt all the way up. I then stuffed my hoody and mask under a bush before subtly hurrying over to the guys entering the ball room. No one knew who I was. It was easy to act like I belonged there. And it worked. It's hilarious how people will let you walk into restricted areas as long as you have a serious expression and look like you're on a fucking mission. Don't bother me, man, Jesus sent me here to poke your fucking daughters in the ass! So I walked behind this group of four guys and entered a room full of rich-looking fucks. The hosts thought I was with the new arrivals, and they assumed I was with the hosts. But shit, now that I was back in there, what the fuck was I really going to do?
I heard a door slam in another room, and I gazed over all those snobbish fags – until I noticed that chick in the black evening dress again. She looked straight back at me, but this time she smiled at my human face. That's the Bruce-charm, baby.
Slipping into a corridor, I heard men yelling and a muffled noise that sounded familiar. Just then I saw those same two apes that had dragged me upstairs, now carrying Mara away. I pulled out my phone and pretended like I was quietly talking to someone. Giving the two thugs some space, I waited near the front doors before I followed them up the stairs.
As I made my way along the upstairs corridor, a door opened and out came this fucking goddess! Tight navy-blue skirt, blouse, heels, and long black hair with milky skin that was just begging for a licking. She looked up from under a long fringe, and instantly I forgot everything else. Sorry, Mara, but I was never a nice guy. Walking slowly up to this woman in her early twenties, I watched her eyes closely as she began circling me like we were about to tango. Saying something in Hebrew, she looked me up and down, while I focused on her swollen tits tightly packed into that push-up bra. Of course, I didn't say anything. She could have been asking for the time, or for the password, or whether I wanted to cum in her mouth. I let the sexual tension thicken as we stepped even closer. My hand slipped around to the small of her back as I smelled her hair while staring into her dilated pupils. Again, she whispered something, and my pants grew tighter – but then I heard Mara cry out down the hall! Yet I didn't care in the slightest. I had both of my hands on this chick's hips, and I was steadily moving down to her ass – when footsteps came along that fucking hallway. She smoothly pulled away and continued gliding down the stairs with a smirk. I watched her go even after some guy put his hand on my shoulder. I didn't pay him any attention as he muttered something before he also headed down the stairs. Backing away, I turned a corner and found one of those big cunts standing guard in front of a door. He spotted me coming, and I glared straight back, remembering that sucker-punch to my stomach. However, the guy quickly opened the very door he was guarding and waited for me to enter. I couldn't help the feeling that this shit was a set-up. Who was it that he thought I was exactly?
Anyway, I stepped into this new bedroom and found Mara lying face-down with her wrists and ankles tied together. The door closed behind, as I approached the incapacitated girl. She didn't move or say a word – not until she heard my phone 'snap' a photo of her!
"You can call me Uncle Fingers," I grinned, crouching down.
She seriously looked like she had just seen a ghost.
"This some kind of bondage-fantasy, role-play game that I've accidentally walked in on here?" I asked, admiring the view. "I can leave you be if you want?"
Why do girls only ever say my name when they're pissed with me, and never while I fuck them?
"Get me out of these, now!" she hissed under her breath.
I stood up and rubbed my chin. "Gee, I don't know. I like you, but I don't want to break your rule of no-touching."
"Bruce!" She really wasn't in the mood.
"I know… This is some kind of scat-party, isn't it?"
"This isn't funny."
"You want me to leave? 'Cause I can do that. I owe you nothing. You're barely a fucking friend. I can walk out the same way I came in, and not a single fuck was given."
"Please?" I frowned. "Okay, how about this. I cut you free and you continue being little Miss Excuses, and I'll ask no questions… But… I finally get to take you out on a real date sometime."
"I can't believe that's all you're interested at a time like this?"
"A time like what? I don't know what the fuck you people are up to, and I don't really give two shits. But a slice of your ass, that's something tangible. That's as good as this fucking life gets. Remember kid, you brought me here."
She said nothing.
"Typical…" And I pulled out my Gerber multi-tool from the back of my belt and used the pliers to cut the plastic restraints. Once she got to her feet, Mara grabbed my left hand, twisting my fingers back into an agonizing position! For a tiny little creature, she sure was brutal. Clenching my jaw, we eye-fucked each other for a moment before she released my hand. While I shook the pain out of my wrist, Mara sprung open the door and brought the giant guard down to his fucking knees! She struck him in the throat, and he choked, until she cracked his skull against the corner of the door frame! I glanced at my sensitive artist hand and realized that had I gotten off easy. I guess I really shouldn't piss her off too much. And then out of the room she went, and I followed – after kicking that unconscious fat cunt in his gut one last time.
Down another staircase we went into a corridor where Mara soon opened a door onto the back garden – when gunfire echoed out! Automatic weapons from the front of the building. Mara grabbed my arm and we sprinted for the chopper. But half-way there, I yanked myself free and grabbed my hoody and mask from under the bushes. All hell seemed to have broken loose in the ball room where machine-guns were being handed out – and then the very fucking foundations shook as an explosion tore up the night from the parking lot at the front of the estate!
This decadent place had somehow turned into a fucking war zone. Looking at my black hoody, I wished I had a bullet-proof vest instead. Then I saw two men in suits running toward the chopper ahead of me. Mara shot them both in the legs! Where the fuck did she get a gun from?! The blades of the helicopter began spinning as I discovered Mara in the cockpit, "You can fly this fucking thing? Ain't you just a gem!"
Mara then pointed her handgun right at me – and shot some fuck coming up behind, "Gems are cheap. I however, am not!"
"I don't doubt it," I said to myself, climbing into the back of the chopper, as gunfire shredded the mansion.
More men came running toward us, but Mara shot one dipshit, and the rest of them scattered like cockroaches.
We lifted off as men in suits with machine-guns swarmed around the compound. I didn't know who was with whom at that fuck-up of a slaughterhouse cocktail party. But then the chopper rattled as bullets nailed the underbelly! Mara pulled away, and I was thrown like I weighed nothing! I grabbed a seat-belt just as the side door slid open and I nearly fell the fuck out. But we were off into the open night sky – while my ass clenched so tight that I couldn't shit an atom for all the money in the fucking world. But still, we were free, so I tried to relax. Not for long.
"Hold on to something. Hydraulics are dead. We're going down," Mara calmly called back, sounding as if she was merely announcing that she was about to take a nap.
Outside it all looked black as fuck from what I could see. But suddenly we hit trees, and before I could swallow my balls again, we slammed into the fucking ground! One great big impact and that was it!
I shook my head and grinned, "Well, that wasn't so bad."
"Run!" Mara stressed.
I then realized we were on fire!
Leaping out into the random parking lot that we had crashed into, Mara and I didn't get far before the whole fucking chopper exploded! I swear to god; a rotor blade barely missed our fucking heads before impaling a concrete wall!
"FUCK!" I yelled at the burning carcass of our flying machine.
Mara wasted no time waving down a passing car and extracting the driver at gunpoint. We were out of there just as quickly as we had touched down.
"This evening's going just swimmingly," I remarked, pulling on my hoody. "So how long have you been doing this whole espionage racket?"
Out of nowhere a black SUV slammed into the side of our car! Then a second four-wheel-drive came from the other side! Well, what would this adventure be without a high-speed car chase? It's times like these that I'm glad that I wear my seat belt, because Mara hit the brakes, and the two SUV's shot past. She immediately reversed the fuck up and raced down another street. I didn't know where the fuck we were. I think heading toward Prenzlauer Berg. Those two SUV's wouldn't quit though. I held on by the skin of my teeth as we zipped between other traffic at break-neck speed. And let me tell you, my asshole clenched tighter still! I glanced at Mara, but she looked totally disconnected, like she was simply brushing her hair before bed. She then ripped up the hand-break, and we skid around a corner, and my testicles were suddenly in my lungs!
Flashing lights and shrieking sirens came from behind!
And then gunfire again!
I grabbed the dashboard as we headed right into on-coming traffic and a fucking bus plowing straight toward us! I have no clue how Mara avoided that imminent collision, but the cops didn't! The bus buckled as shattered glass flew everywhere behind our tidy escape! Then we were charging down the footpath. Some guy walking his poodle lunged out of the way, the dog was pissing through mid-air! We drove out onto the tram tracks with an SUV right on our ass. Then a flood of blue sirens burst out from the side streets! Cops by the dozen! The SUV rammed the back of our vehicle again, and again Mara just shook her head as if a silly little mosquito was bugging her. And then, hello, a fucking tram was coming! Fuck me! Yet Mara kept on going. I looked back and forth between her and the tram. Was this really the time for a game of chicken? I think at this point my asshole was so tight, that the skin had sealed over and I no longer had a rectum anymore. But then, like a bolt of lightning, Mara whipped us off the tracks. Skidding around, we sped down another narrow street! I saw the SUV clip the tram but managed to follow us with the growing numbers of cop cars.
"So, we're heading to your embassy, right?" I suggested.
"Actually, I don't work for the embassy," Mara admitted.
"Wow." I shook my head. "Just wow. You're a real professional liar, ain't you. Wow. Have you ever said a single thing true since we first met? Don't tell me your real name's not even Batman?"
"Words are an imperfect form of communication," she smiled.
"Yes. Yes, they are," I solemnly agreed, when suddenly we screamed around into another skid, while Mara stretched her left arm out of her window, aimed, and shot the driver of the SUV at pointblank range! That large black vehicle twisted and flipped! A churning ball of demolished metal bashed through parked cars, completely destroying itself and ultimately blocking the entire fucking street behind us!
Mara drove casually down quiet side streets like all was well.
We quickly parallel-parked, ran a block and stole another random car. And we were off before the cops could ever locate us.
Next thing I knew, we were in Mitte, and then walking into the Hilton hotel. I guess I was finally in a slight state of shock, because I didn't say anything anymore. Mara led the way to a room, where I slumped into a big brown armchair in that five-star suite while trying to count the number of times I could have literally died this evening. But then Mara walked over and straddled me. She grabbed my head and we suddenly started kissing like long-time lovers from way back! Jesus, let me catch my fucking breath! Shoving her back, I sneered as she clamped one hand around my throat and slammed the barrel of her gun against my forehead! I sat still. There I studied Mara closely. No longer was she the timid, hushed little nobody in the background. Now she was burning with violent fucking intensity. Her eyes were fucking beautiful with a deranged sort of rage as she squeezed my throat and pushed the gun harder against my skull. Slowly sitting up, I put my hands on her back, pulling her close. Her face was right in front of mine. Her hand crushing my throat as we stared viciously at each other. Slowly I licked her top lip. She pushed me away, so I pulled her back down, pressing her mouth into mine. Our lips opened wide as her long hair covered me. My hands ran down to her ass and under her dress. Her palms lay on either side of my face. The gun had simply disappeared. I stood and picked Mara up while we made a meal out of each other. And then I slammed her back against a wall! Pinning her there with her legs wrapped around my hips, I sunk a hand into her bra, cupping a breast, and in turn she dug a hand straight down into my pants.
I turned and lay her on the bed. Shoving her higher up, I crawled between her legs, licking her neck. Suddenly she shoved me aside as she sat and walked away.
Rolling my jaw, I watched her head toward the bathroom – then I attacked! Grabbing her, I hammered her back against the bathroom door! She moved like she was about to stop me, like what she had done to all those hired killers – but she didn't do anything once I kissed her long and hard. I spun her around, and she pushed her ass back into my crotch until it was my back against the wall. Kissing her throat, my right hand went between her legs while my left moved to her tits. Grinding her ass against my erection, she rubbed herself slow and strong into my body. She felt good in my hands. Warm and delicious. Her breathing was deep and fast. Her eyes clenched as I sucked on her earlobe, and then my fingers slid into her panties and lower still. She gasped and held still. And my middle fingertip rubbed her clit in small circles. Over and over, before my fingers slipped deeper and inside.
She pulled away, just to turn and kiss me as she ripped my belt open. Watching her drop to her knees, I grabbed the wall. Without hesitation, she sucked impatiently on my hard-on, causing every muscle in my body to tense up! My hands slowly stroked the crown of her head while she sucked glacially-slow. She was fucking beautiful!
I pulled her up and we kiss while tearing at each other's clothes, until we reached a big sofa. Turning her around, I positioned her on the cushions as I got behind and whipped up her pretty dress. Grabbing her stockings and panties, I yanked them half-way down her thighs in one movement, exposing that ripe ass! I sniffed her hips and then slapped her flesh! Struggling to pull a condom from my wallet with one hand, I continued finger-fucking her with my other. Finally, I got it on, and pressed the head of my dick against that pouting little pussy. With one hand on my cock, the other grabbed the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder at me. Her mouth gaping as I slowly pushed my erection past her labia and deeper. Her head rose back, and I yanked a fistful of her hair. With one harsh stab, I drove my dick all the way in! She gasped, and I pulled her back harder. But we held still. While I was deep inside, I leaned over her, grabbing her tits while we kissed. Kissing and gradually moving, slowly fucking each other. She soon pushed her ass back more vigorously, and I needed to get a better footing, as my pants were still about my knees. Standing up, I appreciated the view. Nothing quite like screwing a girl with just her ass sticking out from her dress. The collisions then got harder and faster. Pounding and grinding. She moaned and whimpered. Who would have known that she had such a foxy booty under all those clothes. But then again, who the fuck knew that she was a secret fucking agent from some forgotten Cold War conspiracy.
She sounded like she was cumming already, so I slowed and withdrew. Pulling her over, I sat on the sofa, forcing her on top. She kissed me as she guided my erection back into her smooth wetness. I reached up and pulled her dress down, revealing those perky tits that I had to get a fucking taste of. She rode me hard, clawing at my chest and digging her fingernails into my arms as she cried out. Driving her weight violently against my penetration, she was out of control. I had to cling to her hips and slow her down before she snapped my dick off.
She then flinched, sounding like she was weeping, and then lowered her head and started kissing me again. I continued the momentum. I wanted more. So, I pulled her dress up and totally off. Time to get naked. We got up and I laid her on top of a table. Licking my way down her tits to her belly button, I then went down to you know where. Her thighs clamped about my head, and it took all of my strength to pry her legs open so that I could continue. My hands moved inside her legs while I licked her precious clit and started fingering her with my thumb. My other hand reached up and I found that she was already squeezing her own nipples. Then she put both of her hands on my shaved skull, slowly scratching my scalp as she gasped in a frenzy – but then suddenly she shoved me away!
I grinned. Now that I had a taste, I was an addict. Pushing her thighs wide open, my palms pressed down, and fingers spread her apart as I placed my erection against her vulva. She was sweating. I loved watching her mouth. So, I got her to suck on my thumb as I carefully inserted my hard-on back into her pussy. She sucked hard, and I pushed deeper inside, pulling her hips close. Pumping her on the table top, my hands ran over her legs. Vases fell to the floor and shattered, but who gives a fuck? I do! Ha!
She sat, so I picked her up. I was still balls-deep inside of her as I walked us to the bed. Dumping her in the center of that king-size mattress, I rolled her onto her left side, her left leg straight, the right leg bent up, and I was on top and back into her. I could feel her cervix against the head of my dick, and she loved it. Clutching her right hip and thigh, I used the bounce from the bed to fuck her faster. Staring at that big tattoo on her back, I suddenly remembered sitting in a café when she had first shown me photos on her phone. I ran my palm over her tattooed skin just to remind myself that she was actually here. She then cried out and could hardly breath as she climaxed again. Then she pushed me back. I slowed down. She tried to breathe.
"No more…," she whispered.
But I was only just getting started. Yet she twisted around, climbed on top, before ripping the condom off! Well, okay. I watched that glistening rubber sail through the dimly lit hotel room in slow motion – until I felt my hard-on slip back into her mouth. Oh, sweet Jesus on a cross! That girl had some kind of biblical blowjob power, because she sucked and jerked me off until it was my turn to gasp for fucking air!
Then she crawled up and whispered seductively, "Do you want to cum in my ass?"
I almost came right then from hearing her say those fucking words. "Ah, yes!"
She smiled like that modest friend I had once known. Sitting back on top of me, she aimed my hard-on for the eye of the needle. She arched her back, and I held my fucking breath.
"Slowly," she murmured.
I didn't actually do anything, just laid there watching her exquisite expression as she pushed her ass down on my dick.
Oh… Fuck… Yeah…
Ride 'em, cowgirl!
She pressed down further, and I grabbed her hips and fucked her slow. Sliding my erection from the head to the base, I paused. And then back out to the head. Paused. Then in. Paused. She leaned forward, kissing me tenderly, but then whispered, "Fuck me hard. Bruce, fuck me in the ass as hard as you can."
Thank you, god! Finally, she said my name when I actually wanted to fucking hear it!
I told her to twist around, face away, and then sit back down but lean backward onto me. Lying there, I held her hips up in both of my hands as she spread her legs and I started fucking her faster. I fixated on her ass pounding against my pelvis. Her hair hung in my face and she moaned louder. Our bodies slapped together like clapping hands. Sweating like a motherfucker, I loved every fucking moment and inch of her.
Rolling her over, I got on my knees and pulled her up on all-fours. I forced her knees wider. Wider! Pushing her head down against the sheets, I then took her wrists and made her reach back and stretch her own ass cheeks open for my viewing pleasure. She did everything I asked, and I glared insatiably at her asshole as her fingers spread it open like a target. Her vulnerable stance was like a magnet drawing my hard-on directly into her anus. So tight. So fucking good!
"Cum!" Mara cried out. "Cum in my ass, Bruce! I want you to cum inside me! Cum for me, Bruce! Oh, god! I'm going to cum again!"
Clenching her hips in my hands, I scowled at the pillow that she buried her face into. I fucked her brutally! Pumping deeper and pounding faster! She screamed into the pillow as I sodomized her ass so fucking hard that my blood boiled! Stabbing her flesh! Punching myself all the way inside of her with every ounce of strength I had, and then I fucked her harder still! Over and over, deeper and deeper, again and again! And suddenly she lifted her head and cried out in pain – and then I came so fucking much that I couldn't stop! Smashing my body against hers with my blood-shot eyes clamped shut as I stretched back in a spasm. My arms were contorted, while my hands slowly covered my eyes as I fought for a fucking breath.
Kneeling behind Mara with my hard-on still inside her royal asshole, I had flashbacks of everything that we had gone through this morning.
Eventually looking down, I immediately wished that I had my camera on me. My mental-photography will have to suffice. 'Click.'
Pushing Mara forward, I laid on her back. Grinding my erection deeper inside of her ass again, my eyes rolled to the back of my endorphin-sodden skull.
"I like touching you," I whispered. "Especially on the inside."
She laughed softly, before quietly stating, "You do understand that none of this happened."
Slowly sitting back, I studied my fat cock in her tight ass. "Not even this right here?"
Mara smiled sadly and shook her head.
I withdrew my erection, dragging some residual cum across her thigh, but then I pushed straight back into her moist ass. "Wow. This feels pretty fucking real to me."
"The people I work for will clean up everything that happened this morning," she whispered. "And I'll deny ever meeting you. You know that's how this all works. You understand, right?"
"Yeah… Yeah, I understand," I replied, yet I was only interested in watching my dick as I continued withdrawing and penetrating her rosy rectum. "So then, if there's absolutely nothing I can do that will make any of this 'real', then it's all just a memory. It's only as real as I remember it. But right now… You're mine… All mine."
"And never again."
"I can live with that, cutie pie," I grinned, jumping off the bed. Snapping my fingers, I moon-walked into the bathroom, adding with a wink, "You're a bit of a psycho, but your ass was fucking worth it!"
Mara went to the bathroom after me. When she returned to the suite, I was staring out the window as the sun came up over another meaningless Monday morning in Berlin. Stepping up behind, she put her arms around me and held on tight. It was like she was terrified of letting go.
"Was it really worth it?" she asked faintly. "Really?"
Turning around, I looked down at little Mara who giggle once she saw that I was wearing my scary-face mask again. Pulling myself free of her embrace, I answered her question with a callous, "No."
"You can stay…," she whispered, staring at the floor.
She said nothing.
Slipping on my jacket on my way to the door, I glanced at Mara watching me from the middle of the bed. She sat with her knees up below her chin, and all of her flowing hair draped over both shoulders.
"If you need someone else to tell you what has value, then nothing has any relevance," I said. "This was all pointless. But you… You were worth it… To me… But I have no idea what anything means to you."
"Bruce…," Mara spoke up.
I scowled back.
But she just stared at the floor.
"You look like you need a friend," I said. "Why don't you try being one."
Pulling off my mask, I quietly shut the door behind me. While listening to Puscifer, Horizons, on my headphones, I bottled up my feelings like the weakness that they always were. What the fuck are people thinking when they seem to expect that I could comfort them in any way at all? I'm not a good person. I am just as immoral and abominable as all of you fucks! We all have our secrets, but once you tell me yours that doesn't mean I have to fucking keep them!
So, I wrote all this shit down as soon as I got home this morning, while it's still fresh in my mind and wet on my dick.
© 2013 BRUCE STIRLING JOHN KNOX