The Mouth of Howard

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I found myself moving speedily down the un-peopled street. Yes, it was cluttered with debris, and piles of dirty snow, but at this time of early morning, the sidewalks of my hometown were deserted. The city that never sleeps is a misnomer. It does sleep, albeit in fits and starts somewhere between the waning moon and the approach of dawn. It was frigid and I huddled as deeply as possible into the hold of my ankle length down coat for warmth and comfort. It covered an assortment of sins. My half naked body, and what remained of my clothes tattered and torn. A jagged cut at my dainty ankle. The imprint of a heart shaped kiss above my navel.

My feet ached as I dashed in my well-worn pointy dress shoes down the side streets and across the avenues. Heading uptown in search of an on duty cab at five in the morning is almost as tough as finding a seat on a Manhattan bound F train at eight thirty in the morning. The off duty signs shined bright against the haze of dusk as one after the other sped past me. I was betting on Houston Street. For down at the mouth of Howard and south across Canal was no place for a woman in my condition to wander unescorted at daybreak.

He had warned me years ago about the mouth of Howard. Taking on airs, and pretending to be an orator of sorts, one hand to his heart the other raised in praise of the fickle corner in a fickle city. Abruptly, he had taken me into his strong arms and kissed me with a previously unmatched force. Right there in front of the abandoned municipal building at the corner of Howard and Broadway. The stirring in my groin from the kiss reverberated through each limb and system of my young body. The mouth of Howard, he whispered, as his kisses played against my throat and he wrapped his fingers in my long wavy locks tugging playfully.

And now my hair asunder with loose strands falling as wisps across my pale face, I sought my escape from the hold of that sultry vortex. My body moistened as the evening’s activities swarmed and blasted my psyche. “Fuck me,” I growled to myself as the truth of my duality hit like a ton of bricks. I was the women cavorting at the mouth of Howard, as much as the woman now seeking refuge in a cab promising me passage back to Brooklyn.

At Houston I caught a cab heading east towards the river. My driver was of North African descent. Not black, nor white but rather a variability to his coloring like swirls of milk chocolate. His native tongue, his tongue of secondary school and now the tongue of his adopted country blended illegal bahis together to create a unique cadence; Arabic mixed with French mixed with English. His voice created a beat that pressed up against the low hum of the automobile as we traveled the roads back to Brooklyn.

Back to Brooklyn! I pressed my nose to the window and felt the cold, as I watched the sky turn hues of golds and oranges and reds. My eyes at half-mast, the lull of the cab urging me towards sleep, I found myself in that restive place between slumber and awake, dancing in the waves of my lovers’ bounty.

He had lured me from my post at the back corner banister with his sparkling eyes and meaty hands. I suppose I had come to dance, but had fooled myself up until that very moment of invitation. An observer on countless evenings prior I was, blended into the fabric-covered walls of my special corner. Inevitable perhaps. For he and I had acknowledged one and other on prior occasions. My heart guarded and my armor up in order to fend off his advances. It was in the moment that I let down the walls, caught reliving a moment of delight from earlier in my day, that my laughter and light heartedness seeped out and swirled across the dark hall. And as if a messenger, my light knocked against Mr. Sparkly Eyes and Meaty Hand’s psyche.

It took no more invitation than that. Before the moment had passed, his arms were firmly at my waist and he was guiding me onto the crowded dance floor. The music was rich and resonant, the drum and bass lulling me towards trance. Easily he and I slipped into a matched groove, his hands slid to my hips to direct their bump and grind. We swirled in circles closer and closer, my head back and chest arched high, the fingertips of his right hand delicately rolling across my extended neck. My imperceptible moans grew in pitch as our bodies slammed and rolled together across the dance floor. So lost was I in the dance, the beat of the music and the depth of his rhythm. So lost was I in my mounting fury as each touch drew me deeper and wetter and closer to climax. Sensing my growing fury, he pressed his knee firmly against my pelvis and grabbed me at my lower back. I arched back wide and rolled my torso and hips with a growing ferocity. He pulled me forward and demanded I open my eyes and dance with him in my release. “Yes that’s it, look at me,” he whispered his mouth pressed against my ear. “Look at me he mouthed as his dark eyes locked on mine. In beat and time and pressure, in scent and sparkle and intent, illegal bahis siteleri my body rolled and I groaned and squirted and in undulations of the deepest seas did my orgasm roll and break against the hold of his knee.

His smile, his drink of me, made me blush and so I tried to return to some semblance of normalcy. He shook his head and laughed much to my dismay. And a moment later, he was running his meaty hands through my now dampened locks.

The night’s festivities had only just begun.

“Follow me,” he commanded guiding me across the crowded floor to a well hidden exit door. I looked back hesitatingly, and considered fleeing. He sensed my hesitation and guided me forcefully through the door, his big hands wrapped tightly around my wrists. My stomach knotted and twisted as I like a deer in headlights sought escape. I noted only the one exit in and out and began to cry.

His facial expression moved quickly from one of determination to heartbreak. His furrowed brow skidded fast from ferocity to worry. “Love,” he whispered as he rolled his thumb in small circles against my knobby wrist. “Your tears hurt me as they hurt you, dear one.” With that he pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around my body. I broke and wept against his heaving chest, as he cooed and stroked big circles against my back.

In that I inhaled of him in bigger and bolder gulps, his musky odor dappled with hints of sweet chamomile. We danced as we stood in embrace, slowly and effortlessly, our bodies pressed firmly together. I closed my eyes and rested in his embrace, his loving and his caresses. Time moved slowly and effortlessly, so completed was I by this moment.

In time, he pushed me away from him so that he could look me in the face. “Darling,” he whispered his eyes locked on mine. “Move with me,” he said leading me by the elbow to the far side of the small room. I followed, my heart beating rapidly glad for the ambient lighting that hid my flushed cheeks. Slowly he moved me to the padded wall, his eyes never leaving mine. Gingerly he moved his right hand into position against my throat, the terror swelling up in me as he increased the pressure of his fist hold. I began coughing and struggled for release as the pressure became intolerable. “Shhhh,” he commanded, his eyes wild with a mounting intensity. I pressed my hands against his chest, attempting to push him off of me. He laughed. I kicked and bucked at him with all the strength I could muster and he swatted my legs away as if canlı bahis siteleri I was simply an interruption of a pesky mosquito. My breathing grew tight and ragged and I found a new wave of panic rise in me. I was unable to catch my breath. Tears streamed down my face and I hollered for mercy inside my head.

Unexpectedly, he withdrew his hands and I slumped to the floor, and gasped for air. In disgust, he exclaimed, “enough of this baby crap. Leave if you want to,” he said pointing towards the exit. “Go on now,” he said kicking at my thighs.

The pain was too great, my stomach rocked in gnarly twists and turns. I rolled into a ball and cried and cried so alone and seasick and wanting was I. And he, there, the he I had been seeking in my daydreams. And me blowing it, my fear, my apprehension holding court over my desire.

I would not leave. He would have to carry me out. “Please, one more try. Don’t send me away,” I said with conviction between great heaving sobs. I grabbed to his calves and ran my cheeks back and forth against the rough of his denim, my tears leaving wet spots. “Please,” I moaned bashfully looking up into his clear face.

Suddenly he was upon me and pressing my face flat to the wood floor. He spread my legs with his legs and tugged my dress so it rest above my bony hips. His heft, was making it difficult for me to inhale and so I shortened my breaths to a quick staccato. He groaned as he wrestled his body to adjust his cloaked erection until it settled against the small of my back. “She likes this,” he teased as he tugged my panties from the split between my legs and pressed his fingertips against my soaked and swollen lips. A small moan of acknowledgment was the best I could muster. He seemed satisfied and so I was happy. “Yes, beauty,” he mumbled as he heaved his body from side to side to give release to his cock.

The taxi lurched to a stop as we approached the on ramp to the BQE. The interruption of my recall found me throbbing and soaked. I unzipped my coat pocket and adjusted my coat so that my fingertips could graze my heat. It was difficult to contain my arousal from the driver and so I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. But God almighty, was Mr. Sparkly Eyes and Meaty Hands sitting beside me in spirit, his dreamy eyes boring a hole to my deepest parts. “Fuck,” I groaned quietly as my pocket covered fingers clawed at my lips, pressing and pounding for release. I was haggard and restless, the all of the throes of my hunger drowning me against the backdrop of propriety the moment called for. Ahh, irony. My good life mimicked in this moment in time, in the back of the cab, the good girl I pounding and kneading my swollen, my bloody in secret, seeking the holy grail in my sweet release.

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