UKArchive ID: 5168thegeeza
Originally published on March 1, 2004 in Picks
A man finds something.
Bit of an experiment for me. May cause offence - not for the faint-hearted.
It’s always so weird when they go. There one minute, gone the next. You live with someone for a while and they become part of your life; the next thing you know, they’re gone – torn away, leaving a hole in your side. It hurts for a while and you feel the wind tracing around the jagged skin, but the wound heals and only scar tissue remains; cover it up and you can forget, but it never goes away completely. I notice on Saturday mornings a lot. Fall out of bed and no one cares and no one notices that it’s eleven o’clock and you’re standing in the kitchen in boxers, badly needing a shower. Pulling one teabag from the box reminds me of other times.
My mum gives me the old “time to move on” speech, but I miss the company and companionship. It makes me wonder why I bother carrying on. Thoughts of travelling or living in other countries play on my mind, getting old by my own and having no children depress me, and I feel like jacking it in.
John, from the office, told me I was moping and we should go on holiday together; I told him I was thirty-five and was way past lads holidays; we got drunk and I ended up saying “yes”; the bastard took my deposit from the hole-in-the-wall that night to stop me changing my mind. He wouldn’t give the money back and I thought about taking the loss, but he insisted … and so I went: me, John and his brother Mike – twins, twenty-five and separated by five minutes apparently.
It’s the first night and after a couple of hours we started chatting up three birds. John and Mike disappeared with two of them and left me with Tina. Her resigned smile deflated what was left of my ego, so I told her I was going home – at eight o’clock. It was funny watching her panic – she thought that although I was boring, I was better than nothing, so fuck that – she told me I couldn’t go home so early, I swigged my beer and told her I could – she told me I couldn’t leave her on her own – I told her I could and I was going to, as I finished my beer. She said I could at least buy her a drink – I told her to buy her own. I left her there, urgently looking around for attention she wasn’t going to get. Tina is young, but plump in all the wrong places. She’s a 2am girl back in London; in Tenerife, she’s a 6am barrel-scraper.
I walked across the strip and went in a bar that wasn’t just an ear-splitting wall of noise and flashing light. There were plenty of people there, but I didn’t feel such an old git, lost in his younger years. I’ve never been one for clubs, preferring the company of a nice woman or boozy nights with the lads that ended with a kebab and nothing else.
Turning round, there’s the most amazing looking girl I’ve seen in many a year. She’s like something from MTV: minimal clothing, tanned, blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and a smile that dries the inside of a man’s mouth in seconds. She’s no more than twenty, and her small petite breasts pull my eyes along their contours. I can’t look away and I don’t answer.
‘Are you on your own?’ she says.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Well, no, not really … my friends have …’ I’m more drunk than I thought and I can’t find a way to … and those breasts and that smooth neck. Wow.
‘They’ve found themselves some company have they?’
‘And left little old you on your lonesome? Oooow … poor you!’ she says, and her smile grows even wider on those moist and very red lips. Her teeth are lovely and white and … ‘Would you like a drink?’
I look at my near-empty bottle, think about my dry mouth and say “no”.
‘Oooow … come on … my name’s Katie … let me buy you a drink! Come on!’
‘Are you a club rep?’ I ask.
‘No!’ she says … ‘What makes you say that?’
She’s smiling and looking more gorgeous by the second and she’s got these little studs in her ears that are twinkling and her scrummy blonde hair is around them and I want to smell her ear and her hair.
‘What makes you think I’m a rep?’ she says. She’s so enthusiastic and young and fresh and …
‘You’re not a prostitute are you? Because if you are …’
‘Pete! You cheeky so-and-so!’
She playfully hits me on the arm with her little fist and her little fingers on her little wrist and her thin and lovely … and those little toes … painted red and …
‘How did you know my name?’ I say. I look around for John and Mike … the bastards … it’s a wind-up and I’m not falling for it. ‘Tell John and Mike to go … fuck themselves.’ I smile at her. ‘Very funny.’
‘Who are John and Mike?’ she asks.
‘The two clowns who sent you over? The two ugly sons of bitches with no sense of humour? The two blokes who have probably shagged your mates and will probably shag you too. Tell them to buy me a drink too.’ I finished the bottle. ‘Tossers.’
She shrugs her shoulders and smiles. Then she’s gone. Her cute-as-hell legs walk that short-skirted little rump away and out of my life for good. My God … she’s one hot bit of totty that I would cut my arm off to get my hands on. This sort of thing passed me by when I was young, and it’s well out of reach now … but I’ve got my imagination and right hand to get as near to it as I can.
I pick the bottle up to my mouth and remember it’s empty. It’s eleven now and I might call it a night. I can get up early and go down the beach. That’ll be nice.
‘Here you go,’ she says. She’s back. She hands me a beer and stands with a drink in her hand. She sees me looking. ‘Vodka and lemonade,’ she says.
I look at the brown bottle in my hand and hold it to the light. There’s something in it – it’s full up. ‘Did they piss in it?’
She spits a mouthful of drink back in her glass and laughs. ‘You say the weirdest things.’
I smell the bottle and it seems okay. ‘Where are they?’
‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘I told you.’
I take a sip of the beer, and although it’s rough-as-fuck Spanish dog piss, it’s what I’ve been drinking all night. I take a bigger mouthful and swallow. ‘What did you say your name was again?’
I nod and look around the bar. The music is getting louder and the crowd is swelling. She’s playing with the ice in her glass and looking around too. Something weird is going to happen, I’m sure.
‘Where are your friends?’ I ask, eventually.
‘All over,’ she says. ‘Don’t worry about them.’
I nod and watch her finish her drink. I hesitate, unsure of what she’s going to do. ‘Do you want another?’ I ask.
‘Hmmm … yes please!’ she says. ‘That’ll be lovely.’
‘Vodka and lemonade, was it?’
She smiles and looks away at the crowd.
I get the drinks and it feels odd carrying two. One drink for me and one for a lady-friend: an absolutely, top-of-the-range lady-friend: a woman from my dreams that came to me. I hand her the drinks and she smiles, mouths a “thank-you” and takes a sip with those luscious lips.
I wait a while and put my bottle down, and with the surge of confidence it gives, I ask: ‘why did you come up to me?’
‘Because I like you,’ she says, and gives me a wink. She sips her drink.
I want to point out my age or move under a brighter light, so that she won’t recoil in horror later. This moment approaches faster than I’d like, as she finishes her drink, turns to me and takes my sweaty hand.
‘Let’s go,’ she says. ‘Let’s go dancing. I love dancing.’
‘Dancing!’ I laugh. ‘I don’t “do” dancing.’
‘Yes you do,’ she says. She pulls me close and puts her lips on mine. She presses hard and our tongues meet, waggle and I pull away. I want to store that moment and find some way to make it happen again. I don’t know why I didn’t kiss her for longer – I should have – but it seems to be okay as she smiles and winks. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’
‘My beer?’ I say, holding up the near-empty bottle.
‘Bring it or leave it.’
‘I’ll leave it,’ I say, putting it on a nearby table.
We walk outside into the balmy evening and her woman’s hand pulls me along. Young people walk by, laughing and shouting. I wonder if she’s bothered looking at my face yet. I pull her to a stop and she looks up at me. It’s now or never.
‘What’s the matter?’ she says.
I watch for a reaction, but her beautiful eyes say nothing. ‘Do you like older men?’
Her eyes search out the answer, like it was something she hadn’t thought about and wasn’t on her mind. She shrugs. ‘Let’s go dancing.’
We walk away from the main part of the strip to where the smaller places are. We get to a door and go inside. A bouncer nods and we walk down a narrow corridor towards a small door that is almost jumping from the vibration reverberating around the tiny space.
‘It’s a bit loud?’ I say, almost shouting.
She smiles, winks and leads me to it. We open the door and the noise almost knocks me flat. She pulls me, and we move through the crowd to a dance floor. She takes both my hands and walks backwards into the middle. The music is thumping in my ears and she’s pulling me against her firm chest and I feel the shape of her breasts against me. She moves her head in a dreamy way and closes her eyes. She pulls me closer, so my head drops onto her wet shoulder. She moves to the beat and I lumber after her … her neck smells so sweet … I lick it and taste the salt on the tip of my tongue … I detach my hands and place them on her hips … they move and slither from side to side and the heat from all around is intense and I feel droplets running down my chest and my back. She moans as I kiss and lick her neck, long sweeps of sweet and salted sweat. I nibble along her neck as the boom-boom-boom thrusts my head forward and under her ear and around the back and the damp and sweet-smelling hair and the neck and the shoulder and that pale and throbbing neck. The music gets louder and faster and the bodies push around us and we’re in the middle and we’re wet and I’m walking and … she pulls me away, from the dance floor, through the crowds to a small table against the wall.
She pulls something from her bag. It’s a small piece of paper. She tears the top and looks around. She opens her hand and there’s a pill.
‘What’s that?’ I mouth.
She closes her eyes and mimics the sound of the music. She opens her deep-blue eyes and moves her hand.
‘What … is … it?’ I mouth again.
‘Try it,’ she mouths back.
‘But … what … is … it?’
She stands up and sits on the edge of the table, her perfect and wet leg against mine. She reaches down. ‘Try it … you’ll like it.’
I gesture for her to lower her head again. ‘But what is it?’ I shout.
She shouts in my ear. ‘E.’
I shake my head and waggle my finger.
She reaches down again. ‘Just try it!’
I shake my head.
She looks at me, a little surprised, I think. She replaces the package in her pocket. I stand up and shout in her ear. ‘Don’t let me stop you!’
She shakes her head.
‘I won’t mind,’ I tell her.
She smiles a big smile and stands. She takes my hand and pulls me back to the dance floor. She dances a little way from me. She dances perfectly, she moves like the sun on a lake, a shadow on the wall; I want to take her from here and lay her down in my bed.
Some lads dance around us, bumping me, but I don’t care. They dance at Katie, but she can’t see them through her closed eyes. She runs those golden fingers through her hair and ripples in my eyes. One guy takes her hands and they dance. She can’t see; she can’t see it’s not me. I move forward, but the bodies get in the way and I can’t get through. The man pulls her to him and the bodies are there, like a wall; I struggle to see, as his face touches hers and his tongue pushes into her mouth. They kiss and his hand grabs her bottom and he rubs against her. I move, almost jump, to watch over shoulders and see her eyes open and I wait for her protest but she puts her arms around his neck and pulls him to her and their mouths lock again and the bodies dance and I stand still. The bodies are solid and I go back to our table. I sit with my head in my hands. I sit for a long time.
I feel a hand around my neck and delicate nails touching my skin. It’s her. She smiles and winks and pulls me to my feet. I’m puzzled, I’m confused. She pulls me to her and her hot tongue pushes in my mouth and I can’t resist. It’s a wet, velvet heaven. She pulls me to the door, she takes me outside. We kiss. My head is thumping.
‘What happened in there? The other bloke …’
She closes her eyes and shakes her head like it doesn’t matter.
‘Yeah, but …’ I say.
Her perfect finger silences me and she pulls me to her sweet-smelling body and we kiss. I hold her, above her hips. She’s tight against me. We part, she smiles; she winks. She takes my hand and pulls me down the road.
‘Hey!’ I look round and there’s the guy. ‘Where you going?’
‘Home,’ says Katie.
‘Why?’ He looks at me. ‘Stay for a while.’ He’s young, younger than Katie even. ‘I’ll buy you a drink.’
She smiles and I see her wink. ‘Come with us.’
‘What?’ I splutter under my breath. He stands and watches. ‘He can’t come with us.’
‘Okay,’ he says, walking forward. He can’t take his eyes off her. He glances at me when he gets to us, but she has locked him in there with me. She takes us both by the hand.
The heat of the day still lingers, but is soothed by an occasional sea breeze as it laps against the golden sand. We come to a white bungalow and she takes us inside. She pushes me against the door and presses her mouth against mine. Her tongue slips in and I moan with pleasure and panic; it feels like it’s reaching down the back of my throat; my breath is short and I gasp as she withdraws. She winks and smiles. She takes the hand of the other guy and pulls him through an open door.
I stand where she left me, and look around. The furnishing is sparse, but clean and practical. They don’t return, so I move to the door and look inside. There is a bed in the centre of the room. He is laying on it, and she is sitting on him with her face against his. Fury wells from my roots, through my trunk and fires from my eyes. Her rhythmic movement stops and she turns to me.
‘Come here,’ she says. I walk by the side of the bed. The man’s mouth is open and his eyes are closed. ‘Try it,’ she says.
I pull my head back. ‘No. I don’t want to try it.’
‘You might like it,’ she says. ‘Try it.’
‘No. No, I don’t want to.’
She blinks at me and leans down to his face. She works her face up and down as she kisses him. He moans and she holds the side of his face. She looks up. ‘Try it.’
I shake my head.
She lifts her thumbs and moves her hands around. He is still moaning. I assume he is inside her, but I don’t want to look. She rubs his eyelids with her wonderful thumbs and he moans louder. She angles her nails onto his eyelids and pushes down; it finds resistance at first, but the red nails disappear into the sockets. Black liquid flows down the side of his face; it slowly turns red, until it is the colour of a tomato. He continues to moan. I am frozen. She lifts one hand; part of the eye is balanced on her varnished nail. She places it in her mouth and swallows.
‘Try it,’ she says.
I say nothing. She puts the other thumb in her mouth. A drop of black liquid runs from the corner of her perfect lips.
‘You might like it.’
His eye sockets look like moving red pools, perfectly round in shape. He is still moaning. She reaches down and bites his neck, suddenly and violently. She tears at the flesh and his body convulses. I hear the sucking as she swallows him down. She stops and looks up. The bottom half of her face is a hellish red, but she is otherwise the same. She is gorgeous; she is everything I ever wanted now and before. Her skin looks so … inviting … and soft … it envelopes and holds something so beautiful and magnetic in its charm … it really …
‘Try it. You will like it.’
She pulls the side of the man’s face away from me, exposing the clear part of his neck. It has small hairs and it’s not her: it’s a man, it’s someone and something else. She closes her eyes and rocks. Her tongue licks around her mouth and she moans.
‘Just try it,’ she whispers. She starts moving back and forth and I feel the pain of her enjoyment. It’s not something I can bear. I want her. I kneel at the bed and look up at her. She looks down and smiles at me, then winks. She pulls the man’s head around further with a satisfying and aggressive movement. I hear the sound in my ears, the boom-boom-boom noise and I feel the droplets running down my back and chest and the heat from the air and the body and I see the neck and her eyes closed and her moaning and I want to do something.
Archived comments for Trying
bluepootle on 2004-03-01 07:32:44
I thought this was really strong, really effective. Works on many levels. I love the ending - the last line. A perfect way to leave the revulsion and attraction hanging.
TheGeeza on 2004-03-01 08:05:09
Thanks, BP. I wasn't sure. Mrs Geeza said it was 'boring' but couldn't quantify it. I liked it. Hadn't really done this genre before.
KDR on 2004-03-01 09:08:47
It's different. It's good. It didn't go the way I thought it would after the first para. The eyeball thing made me wince, but apart from that there was nothing too disturbing.
Maybe it's me being thick (again! 😉 ), but I can't help but wonder what she is; a vampire (which makes it depart into horror), or just a weirdo (which is probably worse!).
Whatever, it's a good read. I liked it a lot. (Don't look at me that way!! 😉 )
Thanks for the read, Steve!
TheGeeza on 2004-03-01 10:48:10
Glad you liked it.
Vamp/weirdo - I guess it doesn't matter too much. He was sufficiently taken in enough to be swayed by her beauty or something more sinister.
I wanted it to be part serious and part "horror".
Thanks for the comments.
Claire on 2004-03-01 14:17:46
May cause offense - Where?
You wrote it SO nicely!
The story line worked well, but it wasn't that gruesome. Maybe a bit more gore at the end, then again I am a sicko!
The only bit I found annoying was the section with the - I told her.... then I told her....
flash on 2004-03-01 16:18:31
Apart from the stunning looks, that's the behaviour of a typical Corby lass, where i come from.
Does Prose have rhythm, this was so fluent to read, it would have been a dream to read if my mate Gav hadn't been chirping in my ear about car insurance claims.
I thoroughly enjoyed it, it was different.
TheGeeza on 2004-03-01 16:18:54
lol ... I thought it best to warn, with the eyeball thing!
Glad you liked it. Thanks for making me a hot author.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
TheGeeza on 2004-03-01 16:23:20
That's Corby scratched off the "must visit" list then. Ooops ... I'd neglected to add it in the first place.
Glad you liked it. Thanks for taking the time to read/comment.
littleredsteve on 2004-03-03 15:05:58
Beautifully paced, wonderfully written, ended just when it should. Nice work! Thanks
shackleton on 2004-03-03 16:03:21
Fascinating Geeza - in a horrifying and somewhat erotic sort-of way. The birds weren't like that in my day - a couple of halves of draught cider and weyhey!
I enjoyed this - I've never actually written a short story before - but your story has made me wonder about what is possible concerning short stories. I've also never met a girl quite like this one before. Find yourself a nice homely girl matey - you'll live a happier life in the end. Good one Geeza!
TheGeeza on 2004-03-04 02:16:03
Cheers, Steve. Thanks for your comment.
TheGeeza on 2004-03-04 02:18:03
lol ... I agree - and followed your advice 10 years ago, myself!
Glad you liked it - thanks for your comments.
MEKnight on 2004-03-05 20:05:54
Ooooh... That was creepy. I like it. I wish I'd done that.
TheGeeza on 2004-03-06 06:39:11
tai on 2004-09-05 18:51:05
One hell of a trip and it sounded like she was a 'Man Eater' to me!