War/Peace. Matthew Vandenberg
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'It's just a dream sequence,' I say. 'We don't control our dreams, do we?'
'God is guiding you Shelly,' Hayley states. She runs a single finger down my cheek, tracing the path a tear might take, then runs this same finger along my upper lip. I can taste it, taste it completely.
'I'm . . . allowed to eat,' I say, carefully. 'That's ok. I love the taste of your skin.'
'Enjoy it,' Hayley stresses. 'You're allowed to feel it also, to wear me like you might a silk jacket . . . and more. Remember that a figment of your imagination, so pretty and fine like I, it nevertheless not tangible, and hence a sin which involves me only a soft one, so soft and subtle but still unbelievable and remarkable in its own right.'
'I can kiss you,' I say. Suddenly I feel dizzy, lighter than I have ever felt before. In my brain it feels as though there is a small, tiny explosion: several segments dissolve into a mist of surreal, sublime expectation. And I exhale as Hayley presses her lips to mine. Then her lips brush against the skin of my cheek. 'This is ok,' I mutter, mumble, f-f-f-fast – words tumbling from my mouth, fumbling for something as they drift northwards, towards her eyes, the two agape like mouths. 'Parents kiss their children on the lips. It means nothing.'
'Shhhh,' Hayley says, catching my lips in hers. And I'm out, caught out! So I sink to the floor, one hand pressed hard against her exposed thigh. 'Don't ruin the moment. Your heart likes this, Shelly. Speak to me, breathless. You can't say you hate me can you?'
'I love you. I think.'
'Shhhh. Press the button. It feels nice. You can say your finger slipped. A simple mistake. Walk your fingers up my thigh. Be forceful. Walk them as though they are the legs of a confident feminist, a VIW, a superwoman. Look, I'm going to go numb. I'll forget who I am. Then you can molest me just a little, softly, slowly, carefully, freely, peacefully, and sing like a songbird. I'll like it, as any girl or guy would. I'll just need time. Sweep me up. Breathe. You can do this. Feel it?'
'Yeah!' I yell.
'Now I'll just press yours. You'll feel this. You will. Trust me. Here...'
I open my eyes. To my shock a single finger of mine is deep inside my vagina. It's caught. I'm sure. It must be caught on something. And I press it. I press the G-spot but I didn't mean to. I'm sure I didn't mean to.
'Sorry,' I whisper. 'Forgive me lord.'
******
References
1 Sweet Dream – Beyoncé
2 Hold My Hand – Michael Jackson and Akon
3 Talk Like That – The Presets
4 Breathless – The Corrs
JACKSON CURTIS - 12:20pm - December 17 - 2011
'There are five of you now,' the big brother says. I lean back, and press the volume button a few times just so I can raise the volume of his voice, just so he can yell at me, at us. 'This is a group task. You may remove the earphones and put me on speaker.'
I do as I'm told. The others inch closer to the desk between two lounges, the desk which marks the center of the main living room, a desk with the same gravitational pull a circular drain in a bathtub seemingly has. I place an empty Bacardi bottle on this desk, and watch as the world around me spins, as the bottle goes limp and topples over.
'They say that Dante once said that hell is proximity without intimacy,' big brother says. 'But did Dante really say this? Who knows? But it's a good saying. That is why, for the first challenge, you will all be required to get to know one another, to really get to know one another. You should know one another better than most people know Dante, you should know one another as though you are all from one large family, but perhaps on a more intimate scale. The game you will now play is one I am sure you all know, perhaps some more than others. It is commonly referred to as “Spin the Bottle”.'
'What are you looking at?' I ask.
'You,' Shaun says. 'You're the only person here I don't wanna kiss. Just trying to decide how to spin that thing so it don't end up pointing to you.'
'Ha ha. Touche.'
'Silence,' big brother says. 'This will be no ordinary game of “Spin the Bottle”. It will also be a game of “Truth or Dare”. You will spin the bottle and then you will have a choice: to kiss the person the bottle ends up pointing to, or to reveal a truth about yourself by answering a question posed by the person you have declined to kiss. However, should you choose to kiss the person then the next time it is your turn you will need to choose between revealing a truth about yourself or doing something a little more intimate than kissing. And so on. Are these rules clear?'
'Hold on,' Shelly says. 'How intimate?'
'Yeah?' Jerri asks.
'Simply more intimate than your last action,' big brother says. 'You can always simply choose to reveal a truth about yourself each time.'
'I . . . never lie,' Shelly says. 'I can't lie.'
'Then this will be fun, won't it?' Chloe says, grinning. 'Ever entered a confessional where the entire population of America might just be on the other side of the glass?'
'The game will begin as soon as someone spins the bottle and end as soon as you all agree you know one another fairly well: whether this be on an affective or cognitive level. Shaun, Jackson, Chloe, Shelly, and Jerri, are you ready?'
'Let's do this then,' Chloe says, picking up my Bacardi bottle.
'I'm in,' I say.
'Go,' Shaun presses.
'Ok,' Shelly says.
Jerri smiles.
Chloe places the bottle on the table. She glances at Shelly, Jerri, and then I, a smile stretching from one side of her face to the other, as pretty as a beautiful red g-string. She holds the bottle, four fingers on one side and one thumb on the other, and then flicks her wrist. The bottle spins. It's dizzy, intoxicated, free, giddy, so very happy. It spins and spins like a seal twirling in midair. Finally it slows. We watch as it moves in slow motion, almost like the ball on a roulette table before it comes to a stop. The body of the bottle appears to come to rest before the neck, but soon, very soon, the outstretched neck is pointing like cupid's arrow at Shelly.
'Oh my God,' Shelly says.
'Shelly, I'd really like to kiss you, if that's ok,' Chloe says. 'Just quick, a nip on the lips. We don't want too much intimacy to begin with.'
'Um . . .' Shelly mutters. She smiles and her cheeks turn the pale red color of her lips. 'Sure. Yeah. You're a girl so . . . this is just silly but . . . ok.'
Chloe offers a hand to Shelly.
'Cool,' Shaun says. 'As long as I've known her she has never . . .'
Shelly takes the hand in hers and pulls Chloe towards her. Shelly inhales and moves her head closer to Chloe's. First their noses touch, and then Shelly tilts her head back just a little so that her two lips are wrapped tightly around Chloe's upper lip like a mitten around a cold hand. She moves her lips back and forth a few times as though they are the arms of someone caught in a rift out at sea, as though they are two tectonic plates rubbing against another which is at rest, and Chloe is indeed motionless.
'Shelly,' Chloe says, breaking away. 'That was nice but you realize that you'll have to top that next time don't you.'
'Um . . . that was your turn though. So you'll have to top it. I haven't had my turn yet. And I thought it was quick.'
'You held my lip in yours for a good five seconds,' Chloe says. 'Don't you think so guys?'
'Five more and I would have . . .'
'Shaun,' I say. 'Dude. No. Don't.'
'Sorry,' Shaun says. 'Yeah, I'd say five. At least.'
'Well: it's your go Shell,' I say.
Shelly exhales.