Scenario: by Angelpie, 5.5.02
As dusk falls, Apolo and I walk hand in hand down Twilight Alley. The air is thick with the smell of masala and garlic. We pass an open doorway. Light shines out onto a box of decaying mangos. Flies buzz lazily around the door. The stillness of the air is palpable. Sounds tumble out of the doorway. Orders yelled back and forth. Pans crashing. Someone appears at the door with a bucket of ice. He throws it on the mangos. Walks back inside. Apolo reaches down and grabs a handful of ice. He takes a cube and rubs it around his hairline. Little trails of water run down his temple. I lean into him and lick the drops as they fall from his jaw. He takes a cube and slides it around my neck and lets it drop between my breasts. I slap him away, as he tries to dump the rest of the ice down the front of me. He giggles. I roll my eyes.
“Where is it you’re takin’ me again?” Apolo asks as he perks up his eyebrows.
“I want to introduce you to some of my friends,” I say, emphasizing the word friends.
We turn the corner. A blue light flickers above a non-descript doorway. We walk up and I pull a keycard out of my pocket. Before I can reach over to swipe the card, Apolo grabs my wrist.
“Hey, do I have anything in my teeth?” he asks giving me his most perfect shit eatin’ grin. I look longer than I need to, “No,” I reply as I run my tongue all around his pretty teeth and ever so lovely full lips. He sucks my tongue into his warm mouth and bites down softly. My hand slides down the back of his jeans grazing the curve of his ass. I swipe the card and we walk in.
The
foyer is beautiful. A large
ornate staircase is to the left of us. The light is low and golden as it reflects off the marble
floor. An envelope lies on
the side table. I pick it up.
It is the palest of pinks, like the inside of a shell or the coming
of dawn. My heartbeat
quickens as I recognize who scrawled my name.
The smell of sandalwood seeps into the air as I rip open the heavy
parchment and pull out the note. A
feather falls to the floor.
“What does it say?” Apolo asks.
“Patrice is here,” I respond.
He picks the feather off the floor and runs it across my eyelids and down my neck. We remove our shoes and place them next to all the others, neatly arranged like some mysterious puzzle. The marble is cool against our feet. I shiver as Apolo brushes against my breast with his arm.
As we climb the stairs, Apolo pauses every so often to study the prints mounted on the wall. I follow behind him not wanting to miss how that beautiful ass moves with every stair step. At first the prints amuse Apolo. He makes various silly remarks such as “How can someone bend like that?” etc. He pauses at the last print before the landing. I now sensed apprehension. I trailed my fingertips along his forearms, watching as the hairs stood on end. He looks at me with questioning eyes. I returned his stare.
“Relax. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I say.
We gaze down the endless hallway. Each door a different color.
“Now what?” Apolo asks.
“Pick a door,” I say.
He pulls me down the hallway. We stop at the pink door. It shimmers like mother of pearl. His apprehension has been replaced with curiosity and urgency. He opens the door and pulls me through. Warm clouds of sandalwood envelope us. The room glows with an eerie blue light that rises from the bottom of the walls. I sit Apolo on the edge of the bed. Doors open and close. We hear muffled voices, laughter. Apolo is watching as I search through a rosewood carved box that sits on the bureau. His eyes widen when he hears the low hum and the clang of metal on metal. I pull out a small covered basket. I remove the cover and place it in his hands. It is filled with magical botanicals.
“Take a deep, long breath,” I tell him.
I take out some of the plant matter, rolling it around in my hands until it is moist. I take Apolo’s finger and run it through the paste in my palm. I guide his hand to my temples, streaking down the side of my face. I do the same with him. We stand quiet for several minutes just looking into each other’s eyes. I break the silence.
“ ’Polo, will you dance for me?”
He shuffles closer to me, biting his lip. He starts to move, slowly. He soon finds his groove and is so making me wet. He laughs as he listens to the words of the song that is playing. He leans over to me and takes my hands and pulls me closer. He reaches underneath me as I climb onto him. He makes me feel so full.
“Your thighs could hold up a fucking house,” I whisper into his ear.
He laughs. We start spinning slow, round and round gaining momentum, fast, faster until we finally collapse on the floor in a giggling heap. His kisses are turning me inside out. Our fingers exploring each other, finding places that had not previously existed. Over and over I say his name, each time pleading for more.
Each time he laughs his little chuckle and says, “That’s where the wild girls go, to lose their time, to lose their mind.”
We look up when we hear the door close. No one is there. Patrice walks down the hallway, stopping to chat with one of the girls. Apolo returns to covering my thighs with eyelash kisses.
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