The train was leaving at around 9 am. Steven was still groggy from the little party the boys had thrown last night. A few friends had been invited to to Tom’s place on Beacon street for a little fun. The front room was a smoldering hotbox. A contact high. The bathroom was for the more sophisticated, snortable drugs and Tom and Terry’s bedroom was crammed to the gills with fornicating couples. Most of them had just met hours earlier, or even minutes earlier, and they were floating in from the front room. We would know. We were one of them. (Damn I miss the seventies...).
Steven and I had been having our share of the green stuff earlier, and with a comfortable buzz we settled into a corner the bedroom. Joey was somewhere off in the front room, slowly going through the motions of an acid trip. Tom was in the other corner with the indispensable Terry, and they were deep in their own world, copulating like the rest of us did not exist. Joe propped himself up against the bed, watching everyone around him, too stoned to move or too cool to care. Elyssa was having one of her moods and was at their shared apartment down the street.
I certainly didn’t care who watched Steven and I as we made out heavily like two teenagers on prom night. I pressed his back against the wall, sticking my tongue in his mouth, feeling that adorable little butt in those tremendously tight jeans. Always loved that butt. Steven was far less patient. He had already worked his hands into my jeans and put his hands between them. He dallied here and there, rubbing and poking gently before slipping his long fingers inside me. I bit his bottom lip lightly. He loved that. He replied by lubricating his long, thin thumb and rubbing it gently against my most sensitive spot. It made my hips buck and grind towards him. Lifting my leg to his groin, I rubbed my calf against the growing bulge. It quivered slightly and made him purr in my ear. He removed his hand and rolled over on top of me. I loved when he was like this. Toying and playful before he would inevitably unzip himself and begin to have me. He kissed my neck gently and playfully, licking and nipping at it like a kitten. I purred too. His hands began to work at the buttons of my shirt. I wasn’t going to be any help. Torturing him was far too much fun. He kissed my flesh as it became unclothed, taking the time to savor every little inch of it as it was revealed. I purred as the last bit of the garment fell away, leaving my belly bare and the places beyond it eagerly anticipating that sweet mouth.
“Steve,” a voice hissed. Steven went on, making his way down, his thumbs hooked onto the belt loops of my jeans. “Steven!” the voice whispered fiercely. Steven turned towards it with an annoyed sigh. His expression turned to happiness as he saw the face. “Jon!” Steve said, sitting up and resting his weight on his palm, “What’s up?” Jon knelt down next to us. He was youngish and hippie-looking with a beard beginning to lick at his chin, and glasses that sat rigidly on his small nose. I didn’t hear the whole of the conversation. I picked up bits and pieces of dialoue that slipped into earshot. “Good shit...Peruvian...sample...fucking incredible.” Even in this dimness I could see Steven’s face light up when the words were said. It bounced off Jon’s glasses and into my eyes.
“Mia,... hon,” he started, “Jon and I are going to talk for a while. Can you wait here for a few minutes?” I gave him a coy, disatisfied little pouty noise. “I’ll be back in no time at all,” he insisted. “Then I’ll finish you up good.” His tone came back to normal then. “Hey Joe, hold this will ya?” he said, laying me back on Joe before I had a chance to answer. I laughed. I was so high that being treated like property was funny to me. Steven kissed me gently before heading to the bathroom. Fuckin’ Steve, going off with this guy Jon who I didn’t know to share my favorite drug and he didn’t even have the decency to ask if he could have just a little toot for his
girlfriend. Looking back, if he had done that and I were not in the midst of a giddy high, we would have had words quite soon after. I was high, however, and content to sit here for a few minutes while Steven and his stingy friend went off.
I leaned back onto Joe’s shoulder, looking up into at him with a childish curiosity. A joint dangled coolly from his lips and the smoke wafted through the air around the him, framing Joe’s face like a hazy halo. The soft skin of his neck was not an inch from my lips. I was already
resting on his firm shoulder, and the marijuana coupled with Steven’s delayed coitus heightened
my awareness and eagerness during the most simple sensations. Joe was beautiful; his physical
strength was incredible, and his very masculine presence breathtaking. I squeezed his firm thigh,
perhaps not knowing what I was doing. Perhaps I did, and just had no thought to consequences.
He smiled at me, trying desperately to keep his ‘too-cool-to-care’ facade stable through the midst
of his buzz. It made me giggle. Everything made me giggle. I grabbed the bottle of beer from his
left hand and took a sip. That made me giggle too. I nursed what was left of the beer as he took
the joint between his fingers and slowly began to inhale the intoxicating smoke. He blew out the
lungful of pot fumes in three rings of smoke. “Doesn’t a gentleman share with a lady?” I asked
coyly, taking the last sip of beer from the bottle. Joe brought the joint to his lips again and drew
in deeply. He then leaned in and, placing his lips on mine, gently blew the smoke inside my
mouth. Less of a shotgun and more of a kiss, really. His lips were open far too wide, and it
lacked the slight air of casualness that a shotgun usually had. Instead, it reeked of full on carnality. His lips were wet and almost forceful, and his tongue rested mere millimeters from mine. It was moist and waiting like a snake in repose. I contemplated the thought of kissing him like I had always wanted to.
Joe’s hand slinked up inside my open shirt and was cupping my left breast. A shiver went through my spine. I had dreamed of Joe forever. I had dreamed of touching him, him touching
me, doing every little thing that had sprung to my mind ever since I first saw him in that little
bar. Those fingers of his wriggled their way into the soft fabric cup of my bra and began to roll
my already rigid nipple around with his callused middle finger. I inhaled sharply. What brought
this about I did not know. I only wished that it would continue. I reached around and draped my
arm over his shoulder, pulling myself closer into his strong body. With all my courage I brought
my lips to his. Joe’s lips were different from Steven’s in a million different ways. Steven’s were
large and sensuous. Joe’s were quite thin and a bit chapped, but far more gentle than Steven’s.
Steven kissed heavily, like a man used to being in charge of things. One who must control things.
Joe’s kisses were like him, smooth, coolly confident, and yet somehow still gentle. And a bit shy.
He ground the roach into the floor, and with his newly free hand those rough, manly fingers
began to march slowly beyond my belly and towards the soft, forbidden skin below. They danced
over the short curly hairs that heralded the entrance to my yoni. I wished I could feel his tongue.
In my mouth, down where his fingers were imploring ingress. All I got were sterile lip kisses.
But they were hot nonetheless.
I broke the mood by laughing. Stoned. Far too stoned. He looked at me and smiled too. It broke out into a low laugh. I had never heard that come from Joe before. It was almost like a lovers’
inside joke. I looked into those deep brown eyes, trying to read what they might say. Read if they
wanted me to lay down on this carpet and let him wanted to finish what Steven and I had started.
Steven came back in like a tornado, hurried and with purpose. I was in the same position that I was in when he had left. Leaning on Joe like a good, patient girlfriend. I wondered perhaps if he had seen Joe’s hand scurry from out of my bra and back to his side. Either way, Steven extended his hand to me, and when I took it he pulled me up and out of Joe’s arms. He then wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up, moving me towards the bathroom. I waved goodbye to Joe, laughing all the way there.
"Out, all of you, right now!” he thundered. The herd slowly came to it’s feet, dragging bottles and bongs and stashes with them and sluggishly filing out the door. Steven picked
up things and placed them in the hall, trying to get them shooed out. A chubby guy stopped in
front of him. “Ya know, the one next door is the sex room,” he pointed out, so stoned he was barely able to form words. “Fuck off,” Steven barked.
As soon as the place was vacated, he plopped me down onto the sink, just like that first night I'd seen him. Steven turned back to face the crowd that looked longingly into the room. He slammed the door in their faces. The party
here was over. “Where were we?” he asked, smiling devilishly as his thumbs found the belt loops on my pants.
Steven wore dark aviator sunglasses to keep out the morning sun. Usually we got up in the afternoon, so our eyes weren’t used to the brightness of the world at this hour. He had on a navy-blue pea coat with a long gray scarf wrapped around his neck. His hair was still tousled from tossing and turning on his pillow last night, and me running my fingers through his hair. I took out my camera and snapped a photo of him leaning against the wall and waiting. It was the perfect image of a rock star in repose. “Mia, put that thing down, huh?” he groaned. I slipped the camera back in my bag and snuggled up next to him, putting my hands in his coat to warm them.
“I’m tired,” I complained gently. He kissed my forehead.
“We can sleep on the train, hon. We’ll ask them for some blankets. We can sleep all the way to New York.”
“Can we eat at the Waldorf? I’ve never been to a really fancy restaurant.”
“We can eat anywhere you want to. New York is full of great restaurants. I have to take you to Sardi’s. They have good salmon.”
I stuck out my tongue. “Yick. Fish.”
"You just say that because you’ve never had salmon,” he said. “Have you ever even been to New York?”
“Uh-uh,” I said. He held me tighter.
“Then you’ve never lived. New York is one of the greatest places in the world to be. You can get anything and everything in New York. Chinese Lanterns and china white, and beautiful
clothes and delicious food. It’s the greatest. And the hotels are beautiful. Oh, and I have to take
you around Central Park...” I could feel the excitement in his voice. It must have been great. And
just think, seven months ago I was in California with a bunch of druggies and hippies, and now
here I was about to go to one of the most cosmopolitan cities in all the world with my new rockstar boyfriend. It was all mind-blowing. This was my life. This was happening. This world of parties and drugs and sex and all these wonderful things was my world. And my world felt good.
I rubbed Steven’s flat little belly. I moved a little bit lower, tantalizing him by rubbing him right above his pubic bone. The short curly hairs were bushy there and close to something flaccid and warm. I ran my thumb over it, down to the crown of it before removing my hands from the front of him and folding them at the small of his back. “Cocktease,” he smiled. I kissed him. His lips were a little chapped, but they were loving and warm. “Later,” I smiled back. Tom stirred next to us, picking up his luggage. I turned sharply. The train was coming quickly.
“Are you gonna stop pulling on Steven’s balls long enough to pick up your shit and get
on the train or are ya gonna stay here?” sneered Joe. It was meant for Steven. I could tell. Joe
had never treated me that way before. Steven grabbed our things and headed inside the train, making sure to bump the luggage against the back of Joe’s heel as we took our seats. The two growled at each other from opposite rows of the train. Had Steve found out about Joe’s little copped feel last night? Maybe Joe was angry that I had left him without so much as a “thank you for the cheap thrill”. Oh well, drunken negligence, right? Besides, Joe had Elyssa and I had my Steven, and that was that.
I put my hand on Steven’s thigh and settled into his neck. This simple act of female comfort and submission made his anger melt. He turned away from his mad dog contest with Joe
and put his arms around me. “It’ll be fun, trust me. Now go to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get
there.”
I awoke to a great screeching sound. It was the grinding of the braked wheels against the train tracks. It meant we were stopping. Steven was awake already. He smiled at me when I looked up at him. “We’re here,” he smiled. I settled back into his neck.
“What time is it?” I groaned.
“Two o' clock,” he said, glancing over to the still-sleeping Joe. He patted my thigh. “Get up. We’ve got a limo waiting.” Tom, Terry, Brad and Joey passed us by with their luggage in tow. I looked towards Joe, who was being roused by Elyssa. New York, end of the line. We were really here!
The bright sun stung my eyes as we walked away from the train. We were hit immediately by the choking stench of diesel fuel. Tall buildings rose high above our heads like fingers reaching towards the smoggy sky. A man in a smart black uniform held up a sign that said “Aerosmith”. They had made it!
Neither I, nor the man in the smart black suit knew that the sign he held in his hand was to forever be a mark in my mind. That very moment was the beginning of what would be some of the best and worst times of my life.
“Wow, a limo!” Tom remarked. He sounded like a happy child. A chorus of oohs and ahs followed as the man in the uniform put our luggage in the trunk. Elyssa dropped hers down by the man’s feet. But even Elyssa’s sour demeanor couldn’t spoil the occasion.
It was even better inside! The interior was shining black leather. It even matched Joe’s pants!
Tom stuck his head through the sunroof. He looked like my old dog Rusty did when the whole family would go to the beach and let him stick his head out the rear window of the station wagon. Tom’s hair flapped in the wind like Rusty’s ears used to. The thought made me laugh. Brad sat close to the rest of Tom’s body, waiting for his turn to get a view of midtown traffic firsthand. Steven leaned back in his seat. The look on his face was reserved amusement. He must have though that they were so childish. If so, he didn’t say such. It was the first time that Brad and Tom had ever been to this place. Joey laughed heartily at their wide-eyed wonder. The two natives sat back and let the Massachusetts greenhorns take in the sights. Elyssa sat rather stiffly in her seat while Joe laid back in his casual manner, looking out the tinted windows and staring dreamily into traffic while skyscrapers passed him by. A smile crept across his face. And when it came to Joe, a smile meant so much.
When our limo pulled up to the front of the hotel, an army of bellhops stood waiting for our arrival. The man in the smart black suit opened the door for us as the bellhops converged on the limo and began to take our luggage out of the trunk; they put it onto large carts that they would take up the elevator to our rooms. This was what it was like to be a rock star, eh? Uniformed man after uniformed man came to our aid in the simplest tasks: opening our doors, pressing the buttons in the elevator, opening the doors to our rooms, putting our luggage on our beds. And if that weren’t enough, with a snap of our fingers, more uniformed men would come up and bring us food or champagne or cigarettes. Almost anything! Forget a rock star, this must be what it’s like to be a princess. Not that I didn’t know such things existed, but to have this sort of attention and focus squarely on me was very uplifting, to say the least.
The Bryant Park Hotel was still stuck in the 1920s. The place had a very Art Deco look that swaddled the undertones of the early 1900s that were still visible. They prided themselves at being able to pull off this now passé look as fashionable and charming. There was even a grand ballroom and piano bar. Flanking it were two separate advertisements. One was for the young man who would play the torch songs that night while people drank and generally tried their best to ignore him. The second (the one to the right) announced the low price of their succulent steak and lobster dinner, complete with baked potato and choice of additional vegetable. To the left the ballroom were the elevators, both very large. I guess they had to be to accommodate those sizeable luggage carts. Inside they were all brass handrails and full-length mirrors. With all the fine things around, the ugly brownish sort of carpet stood out. I guess it was so no one would notice if visitors tracked mud into the elevator during the rainy winter season.
Elyssa slammed the door in the bellboy’s face as he held out his hand for a tip. Luckily, Steven’s manners were slightly better. He placed a withered ten-dollar bill on the young man’s white glove. He then proceeded to slam the door in the young man’s face. Steven spun around, smiling, happy at the amount of room there was. A suite! Nothing like a suite to make you feel big. The main room of the suite was decorated in the same style as the lobby. It was like the living room of a small but impressive penthouse. Paintings, tables with brimming fruit bowls, a writing desk with a Tiffany lampshade, and a couch. And a color TV! Wow! Now we could watch M*A*S*H in color!
“See, I told you New York was great!” Steven said as he disappeared behind a door.
Together we poked around the place. The expensive mini-bar, the opulent bathrooms with a Jacuzzi-style tub and long brass fixtures, the plush carpets patching the naked marble floor. In the bedroom there was another grand surprise-a grand king-sized bed! ‘What fun we could have on that!’ I thought slyly.
With a running jump, Steven soared through the air and landed roughly on the bed, mussing the carefully made bed. I had to laugh. He tossed the welcoming mints aside and spread himself out centerfold style on top of the comforter. “How do I look?” he asked, a grin spreading across his face.
“Perfect,” I laughed. “All you need in a staple in your pubes.”
Steven rolled over laughing. “C’mere baby, let’s test this big bastard out,” he said, patting a space of mattress next to him.
“Wait right here,” I said. I caught the puzzled look on his face before I raced out of the room.
The bellhops had placed my personal bag on the couch. I rummaged through it, looking for my camera. I had a nice little idea about some fun we could have. I finally found it. One picture left. I quickly snapped a photo of the main room of the suite. Part for the memory, part to use this last picture. I hurried to rewind this roll. Steven was getting impatient. “What are you doing, Mia?” Finally it was finished. I grabbed another roll and crammed it in as quickly and carefully as I could. I rolled it into place. Finally! I ran into the bedroom where Steven was still laying down on the bed.
I brought the camera to my eye. “Say cheese!”
Steven spread out on the bed again, resting his head on his hand. “Cheese!”
“Good,” I said after I had snapped the photo. “Now, take off your shirt.”
A broad smile swept across his face. It never left his mouth as he undid the cuff buttons and slid his shirt off over his head. He laid back down again, this time resting his head on his pillow. I snapped another photo. “Gimme some more, baby!” I laughed as Steven began to unbutton his jeans. He then got up off the bed with a “come-hither” look in his eye. He slinked toward me like a cat stalking its prey. His hands found my hips, and he pulled my body towards his. It was a moment where utter masculinity radiated from his every pore. He began to grind against me slowly, making no bones about the fact that the front of his pants were becoming tight. His lips pressed against mine sensuously, his whole mouth melting against mine with verve. His tongue slid deftly between my lips with no permission. I could feel the urgency in his touch, his kiss, and the stirring against my thigh. My hand found the waistband of his tight jeans and slithered down inside them. I had promised him a little something later, hadn’t I?
It grew thick and hard with my every touch. With every touch Steven rubbed his little body against me, and the pressure of his exploring tongue became greater. His hands also wandered under my skirt and found the elastic of my panties. Slipping his thumbs inside them, he slowly, sensuously, escorted them down my thighs before letting them fall in a pile around my ankles. His fingers began to explore there then, becoming slick with my excitement. I took the opportunity to pull my dress up over my head and let it fall by the wayside. I had worn no bra with this dress, and now was fully exposed to Steven. His kisses wandered down my chin and neck, to the valley between my breasts, and finally to the rigid peaks of my nipple, where his mouth found the smooth tips and began to tease them. I groaned at the myriad of sensations that Steven sent through my body.
His lips parted from the stiff summits, and his hands guided me towards the bed, where he lay me down on my back. He grabbed the camera and held it to his eye. “Give me a little peek, Mia,” he said, with a sly look on his face.
I parted my legs, giving him an unobstructed view of the treasure that lay between them. He snapped the picture, and let his eyes feast on me for a moment. The quiver in his groin became a rumble and he laid down face first so he could bury his tongue in the warm pinkness.
He caressed the walls of my nether lips with his slick finger before exploring them with his tongue. Oh, it was marvelous. He spread apart the delicate petals of my flower before dabbing at the nectar inside. I took the camera then, catching Steven in mid-lick, which would come out later with Steve’s tongue attached to the curly brown patch of my pubic hair. He glanced up at me, his big brown eyes full of sensuality.
He lay on his back then, slowly unzipping his fly and unleashing the length of his cock. He held it firmly in his hand, and with the smoldering look in his eye; I knew exactly what I was to do.
I straddled him, backing up to his face with his hands guiding the way. I lowered myself down gently, slowly until I felt his tongue sticking into my moist groove. I shuddered a little as the lively pink appendage probed the most exciting parts of my anatomy with a delightful urgency. It searched, probed and prodded in all the right places. All the places that make me gasp gently for breath. His lips tugged gently at mine. And now that I was being fully pleasured, I should delay his gratification no longer.
I brought my lips down onto his organ. I flicked my tongue across the crown with a deliberate slowness, licking it sensuously. I had taken pleasure in pleasing few men this way, but Steven’s eagerness to place my “needs” first made me willing to go to great lengths for his delight (no pun intended).
He moaned softly as my mouth and throat enveloped the length of it, right down to his rough pubic hair. All the while my tongue massaged the underside of it. I gave it a little bit of suction and a little bit of lip action to make it just right.
He responded my finding the pistil of my flower and pressing his long tongue against it, jiggling it all the while. It was absolute bliss. I let out a groan. I never ceased to marvel at the mastery of Steven’s tongue. It danced over my most sensitive parts, making me shudder and moan and finally climax over his inquisitive tongue.
Fully satisfied, I lay down by his side, my lips never leaving my post, and began to finish Steven off. He played with my hair as the moans and sighs of his pleasure became more frequent. He knew better than to force my head down on it, and as long as he did not do so, he was free to play with my hair as he wished. Finally, his passion spewed forth with a muffled moan. Steven was also one of few men that were allowed to experience the sensation of climax while my lips and throat were still working them.
He took possession of the camera then, capturing me in a compromising position with a good length of his member in my mouth. The rest of the roll was spent in more dually satisfying activities. I don’t believe I’ve ever had more fun taking pictures. Steven kept some of these photos after they were developed, saying that he would keep it for later, when they were on tour and he needed something to think of when he jerked off.
The rest are in the deepest, darkest closet that I own. I know that those photos will never be seen by anyone but me. Those are my own private memories. Even the ones of Steven, which no doubt are worth something, are going to stay in that closet until I expire, or until I decide to look at them one last time before throwing them in a cozy fire.
That night, after a succulent steak and lobster dinner with a young piano drowning out all other conversations but ours, Steven hailed a cab from the front of the hotel. It whisked us away to the Northern side of Central Park. There, a coachman waited for us in a pure white carriage that seemed to glow in the gentle moonlight.
Steven helped me inside, holding my hand as I took my seat. I breathed in the New York night air, the magic of it all as Steven took my seat and gave the driver the famous request: “Once around the park, please.”