When I Say When

When I talk to you I always remember that last night—the street corner.

Your face—

That coat—

Your coat.

The bar was scary and weird and cool and warm. We fed ourselves drinks and Dio. Sixties porn on the tvs mocked us with pubic hair and beehives and garters. We pretended it wasn’t there until we caught each other looking at it and revealed the guilt with a smile and a laugh.

The bathrooms were unfuckable and all the dark corners were taken up with ghetto punks and tattoo freaks.

Safe.

The bartender knew we didn’t belong but the gang was in full swing mode. We had our corner staked out. Remember the coffin, the red lanterns and Christmas lights, how I flitted around from friend to friend like a butterfly on crack?

I remember it all.

I charmed each and every one of them—your friends. You watched like a voyeur. I felt your eyes, worked it for you. Worked each of them with my drunken charm. Arm touches, eye sparkle, cleavage stroking, witty banter. Every so often catching your eye like I was looking up from a hard wet cock—purposeful—seeking your approval.

Your acknowledging nod and vacant stare met my gaze. Go on, it said.

You gotta promise not to stop when I say when—

They loved me that night and I loved them. Under the crucifixes we drank and danced. The ghetto punks took us in. The tattoo freaks and the bartender. The porn was like art.

Your friends took you outside. They could tell. Trouble.

Trouble was a friend of mine.

The red lights harbored us until the clock struck and it was understood. You put my coat on and we just left. Trouble! their eyes all yelled.

It was dark and you held my arm. The quiet city walls threatened from all sides and we didn’t know where we were, but we walked.

I could smell you on the frigid wind. Your arm was strong. We were quiet. It was fine. This was fine.

Then the street corner came. Decision time.

See the hotel? It’s right over there. We could go into that hotel. The 36th floor had a room and a view of the Empire State Building. A bed, a floor, a bathtub, a couch. The real world was 3,000 miles away.

You gotta promise not to stop when I say when—

You opened your coat and pulled me inside. You were so tall and I loved that. I can still feel myself inside that coat; your smell, your warmth, tasting me all over.

I kissed your neck. Your body tightened. There was a small shudder. You pulled me closer. I loved you right then. I kissed it some more, trying to memorize its surface; the prickle of stubble on my tongue, the soft bump of your Adam’s apple, sweet saltiness.

The referee street corner kept us correct. You pushed my chin up, found my mouth, my tongue. It went like that. Just for a little while.

I could’ve sunk to my knees right then. Just to see you enjoy it. Just so I could watch your eyes while I sucked you off. I wanted to do so many things.

Your coat ached when it finally closed. You asked and I told you not to walk me there. I was afraid. Afraid if you got too close I’d pull you in.

That was the last time. You never said when. And I've never stopped.