Posted by Avi Vice Versa on June 27, 2008 at 18:44:59:
Upside-downers
by Avi Vice Versa
Yakov
sat alone on his bed, cross-legged like a yogi. Unlike a yogi, however,
he had hardly escaped the fetters and illusions of passion and winged
his way to a saintly existence.
It was late, 11:11 according to Jeannie’s watch. His own showed 11:07. He glanced over at his wife of nearly 20 years lying asleep on the other bed. Jeannie seemed peaceful. Perhaps she was the yogi. Or perhaps she slept not the sleep of bliss but the sleep of escape. He couldn’t say. He hardly knew her any more. What he did know was that she was far away from him. This left Yakov restless for warmth and stewing in the juices of his own need. It made him desire to sleep with every attractive woman he met, even more, to swallow her up to sate a hunger that seemed irrepressible. He had been reduced, in effect, to a male nymphomaniac. But even in this arena he was a failure, for who had ever heard of a self-restrained satyr? For Yakov felt inexplicably loyal to Jeannie and could never sneak around behind her back, or do anything that might hurt her feelings.
Cursing his noble ideals, Yakov again glanced down at his wrists lying on his lap. Encircling the left one was Jeannie’s petite silver dress watch, with its delicate safety chain hanging down the side of his wrist. Yakov was small-boned, so it didn’t look at all ridiculous on him. In fact, set against the very fine growth of pecan-brown hair on his lower arm, it looked quite sexy on him. He put it on sometimes at night to feel close to her. It was at least something of hers that she would wear against her skin which could rest close to his skin and give him comfort. Around his right wrist was his own Seiko, with its black leather band, gold buckle, and subtle, dappled face pattern that he found so appealing. Turning both his palms upward and forward, he gazed down at the two watch faces on the undersides of his wrists, one dainty, one masculine, the left one seemingly winking at him. He obliged it by taking his phallus in his left hand and closing his eyes to enter a realm where he might find at least some solace and sustenance.
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“Why do you wear your watch like that?”
“Like how?” asked Maggie, looking over at Franny across the table, knowing exactly what she meant.
“Like that,” replied Franny, “upside down on your wrist. It looks so silly.” She took a sip of her latte, its steam floating around her cheeks and disappearing in her scintillating blonde hair.
Maggie, 28 like her friend, lowered her mug slightly and looked down at her right wrist, which sent the front strands of the auburn curls that cascaded around her magnetic face falling forward to brush against her woman’s Seiko with black leather band and gold buckle.
“So you expect me to wear it the boring, conventional way, like everybody else,” she countered. “To me it’s more feminine face down. My mother wears her watch that way. I used to stare at it when I was a kid. It looked so enchanting on her wrist like that. No, it’s your watch that’s on upside down.”
She picked up her mug again and took a deep sip of black coffee, haunted by the vision from her dream the night before.
Franny looked at the face of the silver-banded Fossil sitting on the top of her left wrist. She felt proper and safe wearing it that way.
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Maggie had climbed into bed and settled on her back, purring with delight to feel the soft, cotton sheets rubbing against her naked skin as she pressed her shoulder blades, lower back and hind cheeks into the mattress to get comfortable. It was late and she was tired. Another day had slipped by in a whir. The incessant importunities of her office, the long, emotional phone call with her mother that evening — they had seemed of such consequence in the moment. Now they appeared so vacuous to her that she wondered if they had really happened. It was this utter mundaneness that left her weary and eager to dissolve herself in the warm darkness of sleep. She raised her right arm and suspended it near her eyes, peering into the gold-encased blue and white watch face held firmly under her wrist by the ebony band. The delicate gold hands showed 11:08.
Maggie rolled onto her right side and wrapped her left hand around her right wrist, as if she were taking her own pulse. She contentedly stroked the smooth leather band with her fingers and thumb, and traced the contours of the small, delicate buckle on the top side of her wrist with her fingertips. She then slid her thumb gently back and forth across the watch crystal, delighting in the feel of its slippery surface, and pressed the crystal with her thumb into the sensitive spot on the underside of her wrist, which released a jolt of excitement between her legs. Immediately she rolled again onto her back and felt the watch crystal sliding soothingly over her skin as she moved her hand down her right leg. She exhaled deeply when her fingertips pushed through her soft pubic hair and began delicately massaging the already moist lips of her sex, her hand dancing and waving as though she were a magician casting a spell.
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She awoke in the morning with the vision still in her mind — a silver watch on a slender, graceful wrist. She did not comprehend it but sensed it was significant. It stayed with her all day, injecting a note of irony in light of Franny’s question at the café. And it was the restless pull of its mystery that led her to wander out that night on the streets of the town, a seeming pawn in the hands of irrational impulses, till she stopped before a pub she had passed many times before. For some reason she felt the urge to go in. It was a small, dark place, with only a few patrons sitting at the tables scattered throughout the room. The plaintive sounds of a Coltrane ballad filled the air and made her feel warm inside. She walked up to the bar, and, not being a drinker, ordered a lemon in tonic water. As she sipped on her drink, her eye caught a metallic flash to her left at the other end of the bar. Looking over, she saw a strikingly beautiful woman in her early forties with dark, flowing hair. As the woman reached to pick up her glass, light glinted from the silver band of her petite dress watch, which the woman wore face down on her perfectly sculpted, slender wrist, recreating for the stunned Maggie the exact vision she had seen in her sleep the previous night.
Maggie immediately walked towards the woman, hypnotized by the slightly lopsided twist in her upper lip as it sloped downward over her teeth, which gave her face an extraordinarily different kind of beauty. As she drew close, her gaze rode down the curves of the smooth, exposed tops of her fully formed breasts into their delicate cleavage, which disappeared into the alluring narrow, dark chasm of her blouse. Her gaze was disturbed from the depths of that black comfort when the woman lifted her arm, gracefully rotated her palm upwards and glanced at her watch, as though she were expecting someone. Her commanding aura of confidence mesmerized Maggie, and the sight of the watch resting on her up-turned wrist while its band shone in the lights above the bar, its delicate chain dangling erotically downward, quivering in the air, generated in Maggie an electric current that surged through the circuitry of her body into her eyes. Instantaneously she felt her genitals tingling and wet, and reaching the woman, who had turned to face her, Maggie looked deeply into her enchanting, fathomless gray eyes.
“Who are you?” asked Maggie with wonder.
“Leila,” answered the woman, her self-assured voice breathy and deep. “What has drawn you here?”
“A woman’s intuition,” said Maggie.
“Yes,” replied Leila. “Mine.”
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They quietly locked eyes as they delicately undid each other’s blouses, skirts and bras, and gently peeled off stockings and panties. Stepping back, each stood awed by the other’s beauty, until they could restrain themselves no longer and came together, breasts on breasts. In exhilaration Leila and Maggie raised their arms together and clasped each other’s hands, the mouths of their watches kissing. Their lips touched lightly several times, then pressed intensely together, and Leila closed her teeth on Maggie’s upper lip. Maggie pulled her face away, and, with teasing eyes taunted, “Eat me, you old witch, eat me!”
“Well, now that you’re nice and fat,” deadpanned Leila while she tested with mock seriousness the plumpness of Maggie’s thigh with her long, beautiful fingers.
Giggling, both women spontaneously wrapped arms around each other and collapsed on Leila’s bed. Looking down into the face of the woman pinned beneath her, Leila smiled, her tongue slightly protruding from the side of her lips, and whispered, “Oh yes, sweet girl, I will eat you,” and sank her teeth hard into Maggie’s shoulder, holding on until blood started trickling out around her lips. Maggie cried out sharply in pain, but her genitals were vibrating intensely, and half-grinning, she shook her head twice and whispered, “Oh God, that was good!”
Leila licked up the thin stream of blood that had run down Maggie’s shoulder and breast, softly smacking her lips as she tenderly stroked Maggie’s upper arm, and replied, “Yes, that was very good.”
Maggie then looked up longingly into Leila’s eyes and whispered, “Come deep inside of me.”
“You will come deep inside of me, too,” whispered Leila as she lowered her mouth onto Maggie’s to drink in the younger woman’s lips with a fierceness that sent shivers of electricity running through Maggie’s body.
Their tongues found each other, thrilled by their soft graininess, luxuriating in the slippery, wet smoothness beneath, their genitals bobbing in rhythmic dance, till Leila slid downward toward Maggie’s feet. Settling in between Maggie’s legs, she gripped the girl’s thighs firmly and began teasing with her teeth, pulling, nibbling on the moist lips, then spurred on by Maggie’s sighs, she slid her tongue into her lover’s soft sheath, licking and exploring every fold and wet curve, savoring the sweet juices while she stroked the smooth walls with deft, curved fingers to probe for the secret alter of transfiguration.
As Maggie grew fevered, her soft sighs turned insistent, crescendoing into rhythmic gasps. She called out for her lover to take her, which spiked the heated throbbing within Leila’s own sex. Now hungering, Leila found her focus, her tongue intent on the sacred spot of release, till Maggie let out an ecstatic moan, which curdled into a shriek as Leila's jaws crushed together and tore the clit off with her teeth.
Maggie bolted upright, wide-eyed, gaping, to find the woman chewing, her face dripping with blood. Leila stood over her, eyes closed, swaying, enraptured as she savored the warm, tender flesh, and her body jerked from the unbearably pleasurable spasms erupting between her legs. Leila swallowed and moaned, then lunged for the throat, sank her teeth in, ripped it open, and Maggie collapsed.
Maggie looked up, stunned, at the gloating Leila, who, wild-eyed and grinning, licked the blood from her lips. Bending down, she kissed Maggie on her now ashen-blue lips, and in her ear whispered, “You’re beautiful, baby girl, and you’re getting your wish,” then grabbed the girl’s hips, firmly planted her feet, snapped her head forward and tore open the gut flesh with her teeth.
Maggie groaned, but too weak from blood loss to move, sighed and let go, and looking toward Leila, her gaze fell on Leila’s watch, held face down on the ravenously chewing woman’s left wrist. Enchanted by its sensuous clasp, shiny mesh-patterned band and arousing, delicate chain, she felt soothed and moaned with a strange kind of bliss as her vision blurred over and faded to black.
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Franny sat at the bar, sipping on her drink, absorbed in a reverie about last night’s dream. Thinking wistfully of Maggie, who had vanished some months before, she turned to her left and glanced down at her lovely, delicate wrist resting sensuously on the bar, her watch now turned securely upside down. As she gazed at the watch, she wondered how she could have ever thought a thing of such beauty inane. It was then that she caught sight of a striking woman to her left, with dark, flowing hair complementing an ebony-banded watch, whose gold buckle fastened firmly on top of her right wrist glimmered in the soft light.
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Yakov opened his eyes after the flood of pleasure had subsided. He sighed, realizing the futility. Even unto eternity his hunger would never be sated. Still holding his phallus, he stared at the ceiling, and felt Jeannie’s watch face pressing into his gut.