“A party night?” Gloria whooped, “Wow, yeah. Count me in.”
“Sounds great,” I muttered, and went back upstairs to my apartment, where I stayed, alone with my thoughts and rather confused feelings, until the evening.
I spent that night in the middle of the city, wrapped up against the cold November air. I’d never seen so many people in all my life and I doubted I ever would again. It was like being in the middle of a giant street party to which I’d not been invited. I couldn’t imagine what life might have been like for me had that crumbling, spray-painted bastard wall never been erected. I knew that I probably would not have spent ten glorious years at the Kitty Klub, and would probably have been pushed into a university or something to follow serious pursuits. I’d likely be married now, with kids and a divorce and credit card debts and all that other crap that seems to pass for acceptable behavior out there, the mortgaging of a soul at the expense of freedom and creativity. For sure, I’d had my lonely and miserable patches in the past, but I was following my own path, doing my own thing,
my way
, as the old song said. And I would never have swapped one minute of all those years for the probable alternative, even if it afforded me more comforts and wealth. Those years seemed to have hardened me, made me more selfish than I had ever realized until that moment, turned me into some kind of hedonistic cartoon character – I didn’t even have a real name any more, did I? The ‘real’ me existed only on government forms, far removed from my public day-to-day persona. In some ways I had lived a perpetual fantasy since I began my first, and only, job.
I had never really grown up, in fact.
Despite all the cheering, dancing masses, I felt detached, colder than a Moscow winter, empty and abandoned like the day I found Honey had gone for good. I didn’t like how I felt, and all that self-analysis was showing me up as a person that I hoped none of my friends and colleagues ever saw. I pulled my scarf up over my mouth in the hope that nobody would ask me why I looked so miserable.
I wanted to feel happy, to share the relief and emotion of all those around me, to accept the truth that relief for millions was infinitely more important than my sad little thoughts, and to rejoice in the greater victory for my adopted city, and my own beliefs of personal freedom.
But still I felt like a spectator to someone else’s celebration, feeling that schism inside me which would never be unified, the broken circle that could never be completed. And as I walked through the heaving tides that gathered on our side of the wall, I looked up at every face that I passed in the futile expectation that I might instinctively be drawn to a certain stranger, and ask him a question to which I’d already know the answer.
I knew it was pointless. My own mother wouldn’t have much chance of identifying him after thirty years, if he even was there to be seen, yet it felt like I had to make the symbolic effort and attempt to bring some kind of reconciliation to that part of my life. But the more I wandered, and was jostled and grabbed, invited to sing, drink beer and join in dances, the lighter my mind began to feel.
I’d made the gesture, as futile as it was. None of it was my fault. I’d always hated politics and the nasty rules that were imposed on people for no good reason. And the idea that some of those rules had now been broken appealed to the free bird spirit within me, and the blazing firebird across my shoulders. My eyes burned as warm tears merged with cold air and I felt a strange kind of alchemy form within me, transforming me into something else.
I pulled my hat off and stuffed it in my coat pocket. Unwound my scarf, and opened the buttons on my coat. I felt as if I could breathe again, released from the restrictions of convention and order, and then I found myself paying attention to the things in front of me, not inside my head.
A bunch of young people were pulling apart the packaging of a crate of beer outside a store.
“Who wants some West Berlin Beer?” one of them yelled, and feeling suddenly overcome by the moment, I raced over to them and answered,
“Me!”
The guys stepped back, perhaps surprised at such a rapid and overwhelming response.
“Okay, hi there,” one of them said. “Here.” He pushed a little bottle into my hand. “What’s your name?”
“Phoenyx,” I said, and fumbled with the screw top. “You’re from the East?”
“Yes. It’s unbelievable. I never thought I’d see this day.” Seeing my difficulty, he took the bottle from me and twisted it, hard. “There, it’s easier without gloves on.”
“You must be cold,” I said, noting that he was only wearing a thin sweatshirt and jeans.
“Not really. The heat of freedom warms me,” he said, passing out bottles to the others who flocked around him. He brushed a long string of light brown hair away from his eye, revealing cheeks reddened with excitement and exhilaration. “I’m Jacob, by the way. Are you from the West?”
I nodded, though I felt confused by that for a moment. And then I realized. I wasn’t a child of East or West, or trapped between two opposing halves. I was a child of the world, of freedom, citizen of a place where all people were equal and happy. I was probably also a hopeless dreamy romantic, as my history teacher had once told me, but moments like this helped me to feel justified in my views, and to remain hopeful for the future. People cared, and even total strangers all around me were caring for each other, and suddenly I felt not so selfish after all. The ghost of my unknown father had flown, and he had my blessings. He did what he believed was the right thing, I was sure; the less horrible of two unwanted options, a choice which no human being should ever be forced to make.
The other youths were dancing with each other, arm in arm, spilling frothy beer all over the place while Jacob and I stood aside, grinning and laughing at them.
“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “No. No, I’m not. I just came out to join the party.”
“Well, party on then, Phoenyx.” He clinked his bottle against mine. And then, just because I felt like it, I leaned in and kissed him.
“Wow,” he said, shocked. He stared at the beer bottle in his hand. “This stuff sure has a kick.”
“Were you born in the East?” I asked, figuring that he couldn’t have been more than about twenty-five.
“‘Fraid so. Feel like I’ve got an awful lot of catching up to do, y’know?”
“I bet you do.” I glanced around and, seeing that his friends were still distracted with West German beer, grabbed him by the hand and ran him up the nearest side street. He didn’t yelp or cry out, almost as if he had tuned in to my exact wavelength, and at the back door of a shop we held each other in the dim light of the alleyway.
“Wow,” he gasped, not quite sure what to do or say, or where to touch me first. “Is this what it’s like in the West all of the time?”
“Not all the time,” I smiled. “Well, not unless
I’m
around.”
“D’you do this a lot then?”
“Not really. I’m not what you’re thinking. I’m just in need of a bit of relief.”
“Well...let me be honest. That makes two of us. But, really – you’re gorgeous. I wouldn’t have thought—”
I pressed a finger to his lips. “Sshh. Don’t think. Just go with the flow.”
“The flow,” he agreed, nodding eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”
The front of his jeans was thick and bulging, proving that he was keen to go with anything I suggested. He probably wasn’t going to believe it, and even I had begun to think twice about my next move, but it just felt right. The words of Mrs. Groenenberg and Honey screamed through my brain and I lashed my hair back, smiling, and looked him in the eye.
“Let’s go.”
I pulled my skirt up to my waist to show him the pale naked flesh and the fuzzy strip of red hair above my black woolen stockings. He just stared, open mouthed, not knowing where to look.
He stared wildly around himself, as if searching for a hidden camera, or a gang of muggers, convinced this couldn’t be happening.
“Oh my fucking god,” he groaned. “Is that – are you…?”
Then he shut up and finally got with the program, as they say. He grabbed me around the back of the head and drew my face deep into his. His actions were nervous and hasty, as well they might be – anyone could have walked around that corner at any second, but we both knew it felt right. And we both wanted it, right there, right then.
“Yes,” I whispered into his mouth, “I
am
serious. Are you?”
“Hmmm mhh,” he replied enthusiastically, and our tongues met. I slid my burning crotch up his thigh and pressed against his twitching jeans, pushing him hard against the wall. He arched his back and ripped open his fly zip and, looking down, I was thrilled to see that like me, he hadn’t bothered to wear any underwear. I reached inside and helped him pull the whole lot out into the air.
“That pretty thing’s gonna get cold if you leave it outside for too long.” I smiled. “Best put it somewhere warm.”
He was still staring at me, not quite believing this was really happening. I glanced back down the alley, saw the coast was clear, and guided the head of his cock in between my swollen labia. I took him in little stages, an inch at a time, savoring his entry into me. Sex outside in a public place was something I’d never tried but always fancied.
“C’mon, baby. Fuck me,” I whispered, and he did without hesitation. His organ was slim but long and it felt like it was sliding all the way up to my belly. He seemed pretty practiced in the vertical position and I wrapped my legs tight around him, sitting on him as he thrust hard up inside me.
“Oh yes,” he wheezed, shaking streaks of sweat-dampened hair across his face, “God, yes.”
I felt his muscles contracting and stretching with effort as he pumped into me, squeezing me tight in his arms. I really wanted to feel his teeth around my nipples at the same time as I felt them rub roughly against the lining of my sweater, but that wasn’t too feasible at that moment. I tightened up my vaginal muscles, grabbing his shaft in mid-thrust. He gasped, looking at me in alarm as though he might have done something untoward.
I smiled in reply, licking my lips as I released him, and then caught him again.
“How do you do that?” he cried.
“With a hell of a lot of practice, darling. You like it?”
“You’re a goddess,” he squeaked, and I flicked my tongue out at him.
“I’m not,” I smiled, “just a fiery free bird who knows what she likes, and likes to get it when she can.”
“I’m so close,” he wheezed as I relaxed my grip and let him push his full length back into my oozing passage. “D’you want me to pull out?”
“No, honey. Let’s cum together.”
He didn’t hesitate, and picked up his rhythm again. I unwound one arm from his neck and dragged my sweater up, exposing my goose fleshed tits to the cold air. The sensation as the chill hit my nipples threw my head back in ecstasy and broke the first wave of orgasmic delirium over me.
Outside in the street, someone set off a flurry of fireworks and a huge cheer went up as the sky burned green, yellow, red and blue.
“Cum, baby,” I squealed, and he did, ramming me so hard I felt his balls slap me in the ass. His fireworks went off inside me and filled my head with buzzing, tingling galaxies of stars as I screamed out in my ecstasy beneath the noise of victory celebrations. He twitched and pulsed in the grip of my muscles as the cum and the tears of joy dripped out of me, making little dots of winter chill on my skin.
He bent his knees and I uncoiled myself, setting my boots back on the ground but keeping his lovely long cock where I wanted it. Seeing my tits float under his chin, he stretched down and nibbled on my piercings, unleashing another gush of cum which spattered out of me and soaked into his jeans. I hugged him close, letting our mouths meet and exchange loving tongues until I felt him shrink and slide out of me, with the expected shower of sexual drizzle onto the damp concrete between my feet.
“Welcome to West Berlin, Jacob,” I said, and kissed him again. “If you’re passing a place called the Kitty Klub tomorrow, drop by and say ‘hi’, okay?”
I pulled down my sweater and skirt and fastened up my coat again, still believing all that crap my mother told me about catching a cold. Right then I didn’t care if I ended up with ‘flu – it would have been worth it to make myself a part of history.
“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned, his cheeks flushing berry red. I drew myself away and hurried off with a parting wave over my shoulder.
“Hey guys,” Jacob yelled as he pelted back to meet his buddies. “I’ve got something to say. Western girls are
fucking amazing
!”
I ran for it down the other end of the alley, laughing wildly to myself all the way back home.
Jacob didn’t drop by the Klub the following night, but I hoped he was still dreaming of the crazy redhead bitch who grabbed him on his first night in West Berlin and fucked him up a dark alley like there was no tomorrow.
Bruno’s grand plan of East vs. West mud-wrestling having been laid to rest, at least temporarily, by recent events, our big special event at the end of November became something very different. Not just for all of us to celebrate a great change, but for me, on a very personal level, something akin to a revelation.
Bruno stepped up to the microphone to address the crowd before the night’s festivities got underway.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “I want to thank you all for coming tonight. Before we celebrate the recent victory for freedom which fills our streets at the moment, I want to be serious for a minute. I would like to dedicate tonight’s show to all of those whose own families have been split by the wall, and who have suffered for thirty years. To all those who endured hardship in the East, and who I now hope will make up for lost time here. And to those who died in their desperate bids for freedom – those brave souls for whom the chance of freedom was something worth dying for.
“To all of them, and all of you, I say: let freedom reign. Now, and for ever. Thanks.”
On paper, his words don’t seem that much now as I record them for posterity. But on that special night, at that moment, it was one of the greatest and most moving things I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. It was as if the whole world around us had just entered a new and happier phase of existence, one where simple things like hope and peace and freedom, and – even innocence, might be allowed to flourish again.