Skin on Skin (16 page)

I
opened my eyes to a familiar pattern of tattoos. My sheets had fortuitously slipped from the shoulders of my sleeping lover, and I smiled at the sight of his smooth, inked skin. The moment of awakening was soft and downy like the underbelly of a bird, and I closed my eyes to linger in my dreams. I was dreaming of the desert. We were driving in Neil’s truck right at that afternoon time when the desert is swathed with a pink, vulval glow. I caressed Neil’s arm, strong like a boxer’s. He was tan, almost as dark as…Nacho. My eyes opened again to the familiar pattern of tattoos. Gang and memorial tattoos. Nacho rolled over in his sleep. A garbage truck stopped outside my apartment and men yelled and the metal lids of trash cans clattered onto the pavement. Nacho’s eyelids raised half-staff, struggled to flutter all the way up, but ultimately flagged. As he dozed, his tattooed women kept watch.

It was hard to tell time in our basement apartment. Although I had a window, it was at eye level with the feet of passersby. I could basically distinguish day from night, but not the gradations in between. August in San Francisco wasn’t like August in Tucson, where the heat woke you up soon after dawn. Music murmured through the wall, so I knew it couldn’t be too early, since Verónica was already up. Slowly, I inched away from Nacho, and his hand limply fell from my breast. I tiptoed over him, trying not to rustle the sheets as I stepped.

Verónica’s door was open, and my cousin danced in front of her mirror like a teenager. She wore an oversized Morrissey T-shirt that just covered her underpants.

“Knock, knock.” Verónica whirled around, lip-synching as she beckoned me in. I flopped down on her leopard-print bedspread and flipped through a
telenovelas
magazine. Verónica was trying to learn how to speak better Spanish by watching the
novelas.
Sometimes I watched them with her and translated.

The song ended, and Verónica blew kisses to her audience of adoring fans. Her staginess reminded me of Ana, the drag queen at La Estrella. I was suddenly sorry I never got to see Ana perform.

“Hey, Verónica. Have you ever considered performing at La Estrella? You’d fit right in with the personalities there, especially with that big hair of yours.” Verónica picked up a leopard-print pillow from her bed and hit me with it.

“
Puta!
” She threw another pillow at me, this one red satin and stitched with the words
Buenas Noches
. I tucked it under my cheek.

“When did you go there, anyway?”

“With Neil, remember?” I smiled to myself with the memory of that mischievous blow job.

“How could I forget?” Verónica rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t let me pine long about Neil after I found out that he and Teresa were back together. Soon after, Teresa and Verónica got into a fight of their own—about what, I was never clear—and they were no longer friends. Verónica wanted me to erase Neil from my mind like she had her friendship with Teresa.

“So how’s lover boy in there?” She cocked her head toward our shared wall.

“Getting his beauty sleep.” Verónica laughed. Behind his back, we referred to Nacho as Sleeping Beauty. Whenever he spent the night, he always slept for hours after I got up.

“Sounds like he was a real Don Juan last night.” Again, she gestured toward the thin wall.

“Sorry.” I buried my face into her satin pillow. It smelled like stale candy.

Verónica was only teasing because she couldn’t be happier that I was with Nacho. After things had ended so abruptly with Neil, she facilitated Nacho’s return. Starting with his apology for acting like a psycho. For weeks, I spurned his advances: his roses, his offers to take me out to fancy dinners, his love letters written in Spanish, begging for another chance. Then, one night, when Verónica was out on a date, and I sat at the rickety kitchen table with a book and the cactus to keep me company, I realized that I was lonely. Neil just wasn’t coming back. I called Nacho and told him I wanted to go for a ride.

“What are you
viejitas
gossiping about now?” Nacho stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt, and I could tell Verónica was checking out his tattooed pecs.

“Look who’s talking,” Verónica bantered. “You’re as ancient as a vampire, the way you sleep away the day.”

“Well, at least I don’t look like no Medusa.” Nacho joined me on the bed and began nibbling my neck.

“Never heard that one before,” Verónica shot back. Nacho ignored her to kiss every inch of my exposed shoulder until I started giggling. Who would have guessed that Nacho would be so affectionate? This was one of the many things that had pleasantly surprised me during the month that we had been dating. He also made damn good
enchiladas.

“Eww, get a room.” But Verónica left us in hers to take a shower. She snapped her towel at Nacho’s ass on the way out of her bedroom.

“How is
mi princesa
this morning?” Nacho tenderly rubbed my nose with his.

“A little hungover, but otherwise good.” I touched his cheeks. They were always so smoothly shaven.

“You were quite the hot
mamacita
last night.” I blushed. Admittedly, our sex last night had been hot. It had also been drunk; I had nearly blacked out when I was on top of him climaxing. Nacho liked me on top. He also liked going down on me, which he was attempting to do right there in Verónica’s room with the door wide open!

“Nacho, not here!” He had my boy shorts pulled down to my knees.

“She takes long showers. She’s got all that hair, you know.” He was right, and his tongue was
so right.
It gently prodded my pea-sized flesh until it fully emerged from its shell. Nacho took a moment to steal Verónica’s satin pillow from beneath my head and expertly placed it beneath the small of my back. With my pelvis tilted skyward, Nacho plunged his face back into my carnal mound. His nose nudged my clit, rubbing it and sniffing at the same time, as his tongue moved to penetrate me. I murmured something about
what if Verónica walks in,
but I succumbed as his tongue unfurled an inch or two inside me.

My eyes were closed, and I concentrated on coming. I was back on the hood of Neil’s truck with my legs splayed open to the stars. As Nacho’s tongue thrust into me, it was Neil’s mouth I remembered. The way he sucked and sucked on my clit, his head buried deep between my thighs as if for eternity. His tongue had been relentless, and I had to surrender to its thick, punitive strokes. The lapping between my labia sped up and my desire neared the boiling point. Hot, wet bubbles coursed through my bloodstream and converged between my legs. I thought of Neil driving into me with the full force of his passion against the dash, his tattooed muscles bulging as he gripped the handholds of my body, and began to moan. A hand covered my mouth to stifle the telltale sound. At last, the quick flourishes of tongue between my legs released the pressure from behind my clit into rapid-fire spasms that riddled my body with pleasure.

As I lay panting, we heard the shower turn off.

“Better get you decent.” Nacho pulled up my boy shorts but not before gently kissing my satiated sex.

“Thanks for breakfast.” I swatted him with the satin pillow for his crudeness.

“Now
I’m
hungry.” My stomach rumbled almost simultaneously with my words.

“Me, too,” Verónica piped in. She was standing in the doorway with her hair dripping. It was deceptively straight when wet.

“Let’s go to the diner.” Both Verónica and I moaned at Nacho’s suggestion. Why would we want to go there on our day off?

“C’mon,
chicas.
I’m craving some chili fries.”

“
Chili fries for breakfast?
” Verónica and I spoke in unison, and then laughed our twin laugh. Nacho looked at us sideways and shook his head.

“Well, I’m going. If you two come, I’ll buy you breakfast.” Verónica and I looked at each other and shrugged. Why not? I’m not sure if Nacho realized that we got employee discounts.

“You driving?” Verónica loved Nacho’s car: a black ’64 Chevy Impala. Admittedly, it was a pretty hot car, and Nacho kept it in pristine condition. On our first, well real, date, he made me wipe off my shoes before I stepped inside.

“Course. C’mon and get dressed, Verónica. You look like a drowned rat.” That being said, Nacho and I scampered out of the room.

Louis, our fastidious manager, hung around our table as we ate breakfast. I think he had a crush on Nacho.

“Lola, when are you leaving, again?”

“Two weeks, Louis. The twenty-third. You had me mark it down on the calendar yesterday,
remember?
” Verónica and I exchanged a look across the table; Louis definitely liked Nacho. His mustache was extra twitchy.

“Oh, Lola. Don’t go!” Verónica whined pathetically, and then prodded, “Nacho, tell Lola not to go.” Nacho glanced up from his food and scooted closer to me in the booth.

“Yeah, Lola, don’t go,” Nacho responded impassively, rather absorbed in the gory mess of his chili fries. I saw through his
machismo
, though. In bed the night before he had implored me to stay in San Francisco and be his girlfriend.

“C’mon, you guys. You know I can’t. My teaching job starts in three weeks.” To be perfectly honest, I was looking forward to getting back to Tucson. I never thought I’d miss the desert heat, but after this foggy, ambivalent summer in San Francisco, I was ready to go home.

“Who am I going to live with when you move out?” Verónica lamented and poked her eggs with a fork until the yolk broke.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone, Verónica. You still have a couple weeks.” I looked across the diner to where Edmundo, the busboy, had dropped a plate while clearing a table. It broke into large pieces when it hit the ground. The windows up front were large and faced the street. I was probably looking for him at that moment without knowing it; I had been, whether I liked to admit it or not, every day for weeks. At every loud rumble of an engine, my head would snap around hoping to see his truck. I never did. But now, when I least expected it, when I was thinking about how I couldn’t wait to leave San Francisco, Neil appeared. My heart leapt and smashed against the pane as he passed by the window. To my astonishment, Neil placed his hand on the smudged glass of the door and pushed. Neil stood inside the diner, as Edmundo foraged around the floor for shards near his feet, looking around as if for someone.

When Neil saw me, I knew it was me he was looking for. I’m not sure what expression crossed my face, one of exhilaration or of horror, but Verónica saw it and curiously turned to the subject of my astonishment. She quickly whipped back around and looked apprehensively at Nacho who, fortunately, was lost in chili fries oblivion. At that same instant, Neil saw Nacho at my side. A grim line set his jaw, with just a flinch of movement in his cheek. He turned around and abruptly left the diner. My eyes desperately tracked the back of his head, black and polished like a bowling ball, as it diminished from sight.

Grossly unaware of what had transpired, Nacho looked up from his fries and, still chewing, smiled at me. His mouth looked bloody like a vampire’s from the carnage of his chili fries. He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away. He shrugged it off.

“Nacho, gimme some of those.” Verónica swooped in with her manicured talons to swipe a fry. She glanced at me with a look that signaled,
Don’t worry
. As she began to bicker with Nacho, distracting him for my benefit, I sat back, stunned by Neil’s appearance at the diner.
Why had he come?

I
had to find out. Curiosity ate me up for three days until there was nothing left but the naked carcass of my need to see Neil. This time, I went straight to the lion’s mouth: the garage.

It was nighttime, but the hour was young and restless. I walked briskly down the damp streets with the confidence of a girl with nothing to lose. In a week and a half, I’d be leaving this grey city behind. As I approached his block, the fluorescent lights of the garage reached me like a beacon. There were no shadows in which I could slink, and the echoing heels of my tall, black boots announced my arrival.

Neil emerged from the gaping, crocodile jaws of the Chevy. His navy blue coveralls were covered in grease. I cocked my hip to one side and stood before him, dressed slimly in black. The look he gave me was so peculiar that I felt my poise momentarily falter.

“What are you doing here?” His smirk softened his words, and I knew that he was glad to see me.

“What were you doing at my work?” I haughtily echoed his question with one of my own. I took a step forward, and so did he. He wiped his hands on a bandanna draped from his back pocket. It did no good; they were still black as sin when he grabbed my shoulders.

“Lola.” He looked me dead in the eyes with emotion that can’t be faked. It would have been so easy to kiss him, but my pride prevented it.

“What were you doing at my work?” I repeated again. He sighed and dropped his hands from my shoulders.

“Come sit down.” He motioned me over to the open tailgate of the pickup. He helped me up, and I secretly relished his strong grasp on my arm.

We sat side by side with our legs dangling off the edge of the truck bed.

“I heard you were leaving soon,” he explained, looking down at his grease-stained hands, “and I had to see you before you went.”

“Why?” I needed to hear more than that. I had never seen Neil nervous before, and I nimbly lay my hand on his thigh to encourage him to continue.

“To say I’m sorry.” Daring to look me in the face, he saw my eyes well up with emotion. Quickly, he took my hand, squeezing it, and spurted out what I needed to hear. “Lola, I am so sorry. I got scared. My feelings for you were so strong, so fast, that I freaked. I knew you were only going to be here for a couple months…I just didn’t know what to do. So I bailed.” He looked at me mournfully.

“What about Teresa?” I still hadn’t completely given in, even though my heart was leaping from my chest, suicidal. He looked down at his hand, which had smudged mine with grease. He tried to rub my hand clean, but it only made it worse.

“I just can’t explain that,” he shook his head. “I guess it was just safer in some weird, messed-up way. But that’s completely over now, I swear.” I believed him.

“What about you and that guy?” He meant Nacho.

“I guess it was safer,” I smiled impishly. Without warning, Neil clutched the back of my neck. We kissed in such a moment of synchronicity that it was nothing less than magical. Our tongues wrapped around each other with reckless abandonment. Neil cradled my face with his blackened hands to steady our kisses, but they were too frantic. He fell back as I ripped open the snaps of his coveralls and shoved his broad chest with all my might. Straddling him, I pulled off my sweater and shook my long hair free.

“Wait a minute,” he raised his head. “Let me close the gate.” He lifted me off him, as if I weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and gently tossed me to the side. He hopped off the back of the truck.

As Neil scrolled down the gate with a racket, I slid off the tailgate and walked around the truck. I could tell it had recently been waxed, and I ran my hand across its gleaming surface.

“What are you doing?” Neil was behind me, breathing down my neck.

“Just admiring your body work.” I turned to him coyly. He was closing in on me, his broad chest bursting from his unbuttoned coveralls. He looked so wicked with his slick, black hair and dagger tattoo that it filled me with an erotic fright. I ducked around him.

Neil didn’t chase me as I explored the brightly lit dungeon of the garage, examining the carts of tools and greasy auto parts. Instead, he stalked me with his rapacious eyes. I picked up a heavy wrench lying atop a red cart.

“You going to do something with that?” Neil leaned against his truck, arms folded patiently with the confidence that he would soon have me.

“Um, no. I just like holding it.” I did like its weight. “Perhaps for protection.”

Neil approached me fast.

“You may need it.” He swiftly took the wrench from my hands and dropped it to the concrete floor with a clatter. Grabbing me roughly by the wrists, he pulled me toward the truck.

“Get up there,” he ordered. As I clambered up, he smacked my ass. I yelped.

“Shut up or I’ll do it again.”

“Promise?” I provoked. He jumped up after me and pushed me against the back window of the truck’s cab. He yanked the hair away from my neck and sunk his teeth into the back of my neck. I gasped at each thrilling bite, and his hands reached around to fondle my breasts.

“Take off your pants,” he whispered close in my ear, and then added, “and your panties.” Still facing the back window of the truck, I shimmied out of my tight jeans and pulled down my panties. Neil, behind me with his erection pushing hard up against me, helped me strip off my shirt. Only my bra remained.

“Spread your legs.” I felt cool air compress against my bare skin right before he smacked my ass. I cried out, but this only kept the spankings coming in short, stinging slaps. I started to crumble to my knees as if the moisture between my legs was sucking me down. Neil grabbed me by the roots of my hair to pull me back up.

“You like it when I slap your ass, don’t you?” I could only nod hungrily for more.

“I’m going to tie you up, then,” he threatened and turned me around so that I faced him. My lips were wet and limp in desire, but he cruelly ignored them. He unfastened my bra and sucked on each nipple before scooping me up, naked, in his arms.

Carefully, Neil laid me on the cold, metal bed of the truck. I gasped as my skin came in contact with the frigid surface. Neil wasn’t altogether merciless and quickly grabbed a blanket, the kind that movers use to pad furniture, and placed it underneath me. His hands were rough but warmed my skin as he dug his fingers all over me. I knew that tomorrow his fingerprints would bloom into tiny, purple bruises. He raised my arms over my head and ran his tongue along the shaved part of my armpits.

“Let me get some rope. Don’t move.” He leapt off the truck and quickly returned with some bungee cords. He saw that my hand had snuck between my legs, three fingers shoved guiltily inside.

“I told you not to move,” he growled and jerked my fingers out. You could
hear
how wet I was as my fingers exited with a succulent pop. Neil delivered a quick slap to my pussy. I gasped, shocked, but never so turned on.

Lusty and livid, I pushed my crotch up toward him for more discipline. He slapped it again, this time slightly cupping my mound in its entirety as his hand made contact. I moaned, and moaned again as he repeatedly struck my pleasure center.

Then, adoringly, he tied me up. The bungee cords hooked fortuitously into handles on the inner walls of the truck bed. Neil was careful to tie the silky cords tightly around my wrists. I spread my legs apart for him, but he didn’t bind them. A cool draft licked my exposed quim. I opened myself up even more to him, hoping that the sight of my split slit would lure him in.

“Neil, I need you inside of me.” I begged for it.

“Not yet, my Lolita. First I’m going to play with you some more until I know you really want it.” My eyes widened as he pulled down the rest of his coveralls. His erection bolted straight out from his body. The boy seemed to have a distaste for underwear; he never wore any. Neil got on his knees to straddle me but still towered above like a Grecian statue, naked and hard as marble. He began to stroke his cock, smirking down at me as he did.

It was a magnificent view, Neil kneeling over me, powerful arms and chest and thighs all tensed around the pumping action of his hand. The bulbous head of his cock was turning violet under the fast jerks of his hands. Wildly, I tried to wrestle from my wrist restraints but they held fast. My singular desire was to stuff that pointed flesh in me.

“
Neil!”
His paw dove into my honey pot and emerged dripping. A moan whistled through his teeth and his self-inflicted strokes momentarily ceased.

“I don’t ever think I’ve touched a pussy that wet before.” Amazed, he plunged his fingers back inside. I tried to hold them there with all my might, squeezing my innermost muscles around him, but I was too slippery. Neil swore as his fingers slid out. He rubbed my excessive juices on my stomach, which was streaked with grease.

“I like how dirty you make me,” I murmured. He smiled nefariously and continued to knead my stomach, my thighs, with his stained hands.

“That’s cause you like it dirty,
puta.
” I burst out laughing. Apparently, Neil spoke a little Spanish. Neil grinned too, and then asked in all seriousness, “How do you want it?”

“Like
una perra
,” I quipped. It took a second for Neil to understand, but when he did, he was quick to unhook the bungee cords. I slipped them off my wrists and rubbed my raw skin.

“I’ve got a condom in my purse.” It was still sitting on the tailgate. I had borrowed the purse from Verónica, and she tucked a couple of condoms inside as I walked out the door.
For good luck,
she had said with a wink, giving me her blessing.

Neil struggled with the clasp, and I crawled over to him to open the purse myself. Digging through a mishmash of coins and matchboxes, I pulled out an intact condom wrapper.

“Let me.” Half perched on his lap, I sheathed his cock, sad to see its ruddy head disappear but eager to put his safe sex inside me.

“Let’s go to my master bedroom.” Neil was built like a playground and he seesawed me into his arms and carried me the few feet back to the blanket. This time he laid me down on my stomach.

“I know you’ve always wanted to do it back here,” he whispered into my ear. Already I felt his driving member part my tender flesh. I tilted my pelvis up and he eased into my tight center. He was so thick inside me that it nearly pushed tears out of my eyes. I felt so filled up with him.

“Oh, Lola. I want you. I want you so badly.” He pumped inside me slowly at first, loosening me up.

“You have me, Neil.” To assure him, I clamped my inner walls around his cock, guiding him in deeper with my undulating grip.

“Oh God, I could come right now.” His balls were slapping against me with the rhythm of madmen. Then, all of a sudden, he slipped out.

“I have to have you on top of me, so I can watch you come.” With his might, he rolled me on top. We both became unexpectedly quiet and watchful as I slowly lowered myself onto him. I rode him at a deliberate pace, dipping forward to kiss him. My hair fell all around us, and we kissed with our eyes wide open in wonderment. My clit discovered the subtle but hard ridge of his pubis, and I began to smear against it.

“That’s right, baby. Use me to make yourself feel good.” I hardly needed encouragement. I rubbed myself hard against his public bone until it hot-wired my clit.

“I’m almost there,” I crooned.

The hairs trailing down from his belly button had become damp and matted from my efforts. Neil had stayed inside me the whole time and now began to accelerate his thrusts to catch up with me. I watched as his lower lip dropped and top lip curled, his mouth gashed open in pleasure. He was already lost in it, his eyes closed, but every pore open to me. I tossed my head back to join him in the abyss.

Our eyes were closed as we climaxed. There was no telling of time or place, our bodies suspended in ecstasy. In this blackout, I felt something pop like fireworks against a night sky. Suddenly, I was awake—eyes open to the brightly lit garage—with a heat exploding inside of me like a stick of dynamite. I was deaf to my own wild noises. Neil below me was practically epileptic, his face contorted but godly. I was still pulsating from my own orgasm when he came, so hard that I felt the exact moment of his release in a spasm that shocked his body. A strange sound escaped his lips. It took me a moment to decipher: the sound of my name perverted by his rapture.

Neil curled around me and wouldn’t let me go. We lay in the back of the pickup, secluded lovers basking in the faux sun of the fluorescent lights. Only the occasional sound of a car whizzing by reminded us of the world outside the garage.

“When are you leaving?” Neil nuzzled his face into the back of my neck, and his lips tickled my skin as he spoke.

“In a week and a half.” He pulled my knees closer to my chest so that he could better spoon me.

“I didn’t realize you were going so soon.” He sounded genuinely regretful.

“Well, you snooze, you lose.” I still felt a little jilted.

“Don’t be like that, Lola.” He squeezed me hard. I tried to wriggle free, but it was impossible.

“Can I come visit you?” I stopped my squirming.

“Are you serious?” I spun around in his arms like an egg-beater until I faced him.

“Totally serious. I can’t just let you be gone forever now that I’ve got you back in my arms again.” I looked at him incredulously, but I was too exhausted from our lovemaking to doubt him further. He pulled my hands flat against his heart.

“Really, Lola. I mean it.” He kissed my nose until I smiled, fully convinced.

“Can I get a ride to the airport?”

“You bet, doll.” Neil’s kisses trickled down my sternum.

“On second thought, can I drive the pickup to the airport?” Neil looked up, skeptical. He rested his chin between my breasts.

“You think you can handle it?”

“I think I can handle it.” I patted his bicep and reminded him, “I’ve handled
your
hot rod plenty.” I reached down and made a grab for it.

“Well, I suppose I could let you take me for a ride.”

With that said, I rolled on top of him, and clutched his stiffening stick, ready to shift into gear.