Sometimes - well, sometimes characters do more of what they want than what you want them to. This started out as an M4F, but then at the end... well. At the end, it sort of wasn't (blush). And I don't even know if, technically, it's an MF4A or an MF4F, since the 'you's' in it are both female, even if they're two different females. If I guessed wrong, the error is mine entire (blushes again).
I sit erotic? As usual, ratted if I know. That's for the reader. And it's a collab, which I know takes the fun out of it, so I'm sorry :-(. But my fingers itched, and this was the scratch.
So I'll hope it brings a smile or so to someone - and here it is. FIRST OF NEVER. Over to y'all...
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FIRST OF NEVER
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[M]
‘Can’t sing, can’t act – and for damn sure can’t dance.’ See? That’s me. Jimmy the Geek. Like, I don’t know how to put my left foot in front of my other left foot, but I know a Fred Astaire quote, and how to mangle it. Guys don’t come much hotter than that, right?
Right. As in, not.
But I’ve been coming to this club every week. Because you do. And every week I don’t dance. Not that I don’t go on the floor - but whatever it is I do when I get there, it for sure isn’t dancing. And you do too. You come here, and you don’t dance either. Not because you have two left feet like me. But because you don’t dance – you flow. You’re like liquid sunlight, like a shadow made of fire mixed with darkness.
Yeah. Shit simile, right? Well, I’m a Geek, not a poet. But that’s what you are. Fire and darkness – and I wish you’d burn me, even if I know you never will. So it’s tonight. It’s tonight, and I’m here, and you’re here –and I think, fuck it. I might as well get it over with, like the other times, with other girls I never knew I was wishing were you, because I hadn’t met you yet. I smile. Hell, some of them were even funny. Like ‘Hey, I love your approach! Now let me admire your departure.’ That was Jenny Spencer. Or, ‘I’d love my boyfriend to meet you – he’s an axe murderer.’ Suzie – what the fuck was her name? Oh, right. Suzie Blake. Most of them, they just laughed. But that’s just how it is when you're a Geek, and you can actually define cool, for, like, twenty five different liquids and gases, but have no fucking idea why guys wear sunglasses in dark night clubs.
So what the heck. I figure it might as well be your turn.
I see you go on the floor. So I get up, and I go on the floor. And I not-dance, and I not-dance, and I drift your way. And you see me. Like, I know you see me.
You see me, and you leave the floor, and you go back to your table.
So I not-dance a bit more, because if I figure if I leave the floor now it would look a bit obvious. Then I leave too. And I sit down. I sit down, and then you do it. You look my way – I guess to check I’m out of your hair – and you get up, and you go back on the floor. And you flow. You flow and you glide, and you’re fire and darkness, sun and shadow. So I figure I have to get this over with, so I get up, and I not-dance, and I drift – and you leave the floor.
I know. Like, there’s a pattern here, right? But when you’re a Geek, you have to analyse this shit, to experiment. So I experiment. Ten times. Up, not-dance, you leave. I think, like, shit. At least my life’s consistent. And it’s number eleven, and you get up, and I get up, and you leave and sit down, and I’m not-dancing, and thinking how maybe I should just leave the club for tonight. Or, like, maybe leave town. Or the country. And I see you get up, and I see you go over to one of the club muscle, and you talk to him, and you point. At me. Which is kind of an oh-shit moment, as moments go. And you go back to your table, and the muscle comes over to me. But he’s smiling, which doesn’t really make sense. And he comes up to me, and he says ‘the lady says if you make her get up one more time to get you to follow her to her table, I’m to beat the crap out of you. And I’m feeling tired. So what you gonna do about it?’ And he grins, and he waits.
So I look at him, and he grins. And I look over at you, and you grin. You grin, and you pat the bench seat next to you. And I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but I know it’s going to start with me sitting next to you. And even if you scream, and the muscle comes back and does kick the crap out of me, I figure I’d at least have sat next to you.
So I leave the floor, and I sit. And you tell me how you’ve seen me here every week, and you’ve been waiting for me to say hi, and tonight you just gave in and decided to force the play. So I say why? And you say how it’s kind of hard to do what you want to do next if I’m not sat next to you. And you kiss me. You kiss me, and I feel your lips open under mine, and I feel your tongue licking at my lips. And you lick, and you lick – and you lift your mouth off mine, and you pull your head back, and you say how I’d better get with the program, or you’ll call your friend the muscle over. But you grin, like you only half mean it. And you kiss me again, and your lips open under mine – and I think, like, fuck it. And my lips open, and my tongue plays with yours - and I lose the next fifteen years of my life.
OK. So I don’t. Not fifteen years. But it feels like it, that first kiss. And you pull back, and you’re kind of breathless. Which is good, because I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe at all. And you say it. You say ‘Jimmy the Geek. Can’t fake, can’t dance – but he sure can kiss.’ And you smile, so wide. You tell me how you heard me say the Fred Astaire thing once, at the bar, and you looked it up. I mean, you fucking looked it up! So I ask you why, and you say it was so you could say it, the first time we kissed.
The first time. The first time. Not ‘when we kissed’. The first time we kissed. Like, there was going to be a second. And I know how wide I’m smiling, which is kind of amazing, because so are you. And then you shake your head, and you grin a different grin, and you say how for sure I can’t fucking dance. But you say you can fix that. So I say, like, here? And I get up. And you grab my hand, and you pull me back to the seat, and you say no. Not here. We can do that some other time. Because we’re kind of busy right now. And you kiss me again.
And that was it. The first time you kissed me. And I know that’s not right, because it’s happening now, so it can’t be ‘was it’. It must be ‘is it’. But it isn’t. It’s ‘was’, and I don’t know why.
Then sun’s setting. Sunrises, and sunsets. I grin, because you love them so much. Me, I don’t care. Cotton candy and a teddy bear from the rifle range. Your hand in mine all day. It doesn’t get any better than this. And it’s late, and the beach is emptying, because the sun’s fire’s going out, for today at least. And I look at you, and I see a fire in your eyes, and I know I never want the day to end. So we walk, and the sun sinks, and we walk – and we’re at the far end of the beach, where the tourists never go. And you pull my hand, and you say how we should go for a swim. So I say you’re crazy, and we can’t, because we don’t have costumes. And you say, like, who gives a shit? And you start to take your clothes off. And you take them all off, and you stand there – and you are so fucking beautiful. And I know my jeans must already look embarrassing, because I can feel how hard I am. And I expect you to laugh – but you don’t. You smile, and it’s a soft smile, and you say how you’ve wanted me to see you like this, like you are, for a long time, and you wanted it to be today. And you want to see me too. And you say we should go for a swim. So I figure, like, what the fuck. And I take my clothes off. And I’m right, and I want to cover it, because it’s so hard, and I don’t want you to think there’s only one thing on my mind. But you smile again, and it’s an even softer smile. And you say ‘please?’ You say please, and you move my hands. And you tell me I’m beautiful. Me. Jimmy the Geek. And you take my hand, and we go to the sea. We walk in, and you tell me we have to go deeper, so we do. And the water’s nearly at the top of our legs. And a wave rolls in, and it pushes us, and we almost fall. But you smile, and tell me to turn round. To face the shore. And I turn, and you go down on your knees, and your head’s just above the water. And you look up at me, and you say how you want to do this, even if we never have, but only if I do. And you say how it’s not just to do it, but because you want to tell me you love me. And you tell me to hold steady, and you open your mouth, and you take my cock inside, and you begin to suck. And my heart beats, and the ocean swells, and a wave rises behind me, and it pushes on me, and It pushes – and I can’t totally resist. And the wave pushes, and my cock slides deep into your mouth, and the wave rises over your head. And you’re under the wave, but you don’t stop sucking me. And the wave passes, and the ocean ebbs, and it pulls on me – and I can’t help but sway back a little. And I sway, and my cock slides out of your mouth a ways., and you grin, and you breathe in, your breath sliding like silk round my cock and your tongue dancing on me.
And the waves rise, and the waves ebb, and they push me and they pull me, and it’s like I’m the ocean, and the ocean’s me, and you’re the wind and the sky and the sun and the stars that are slowly coming out above us. And then it’s not just the stars that are coming.
And that was it. The first time I came in you – in your mouth. And I know that’s not right, because it’s happening now, so it can’t be ‘was it’. It must be ‘is it’. But it isn’t. It’s ‘was’, and I don’t know why.
The fire’s going out. Not in me – how could it, when you’re in my arms. But it’s going down, even the embers. The potatoes we baked when the embers still glowed red are just torn skin jackets, and pools of melted butter. I grin, and push them aside. With you in my arms, I know how the butter feels. As a rocket from a distant bonfire explodes in the sky outside your window, the room flares briefly rainbow coloured bright. I look down, and you’re grinning up at me. You grin, and you put my hand on the front of your shirt, on the buttons. When I don’t do anything, you shake your head. But you’re smiling. You take my fingers, and you twist at your buttons with them, the buttons sliding loose. Your buttons come undone, and you shrug – and you wait. So I give in, and I slide your shirt off. Another rocket flares – and your breasts glow red and pink, blue and white. I can see how hard your nipples are. You take my hand, and put it on the front of your jeans, and you grin. I know it’s pointless, trying to resist you. So I don’t. I twist the button, and I pull the zip. You do that thing you do, and you twist your hips, and you slide – and it’s like you’re a snake, and your jeans are just a skin you want rid of. And you are. You’re rid of them. And I can see you had plans for tonight, because there’s nothing else for you to get rid of. And a distant rocket flares through the window, and the light flickers on your skin, and I’m so hard. So you put your hands on me, and soon you’re not the only one with rocket flare dancing on their skin. And I get even harder, and I wait for your mouth, like you’ve gifted it to me so many times, and I hunger for my mouth on you. But you don’t slide down me, and you don’t take my cock in your mouth. The dying embers flicker on your skin, and the rockets burn their fire through the window – and I see you get up, and I see you lift your leg over me, and I feel you, so very tight, and so very hot, as you sink down on me. And the fire flickers, but our fire burns, and the rockets fly, and you rise, and the rockets fall, and you sink – and we rise. We rise, and we’re together, and we never, ever fall. And you lift, and you sink, and I hold you, and you lower onto me, and your breasts and your nipples brush me, and you kiss me – and you whisper you love me.
And that was it. The first time we made love. And I know that’s not right, because it’s happening now, so it can’t be ‘was it’. It must be ‘is it’. But it isn’t. It’s ‘was’, and I don’t know why.
We’re late. I should be used to it after five years. I should add on at least another half hour for you to get ready. I grin. On the other hand, that would just give me another half hour to, um, ‘help’. So I figure it’s probably not entirely your fault that we ended up taking more clothes off you than maybe we should, and maybe it’s my fault we’re late. But we’re late, and Morano’s is a bitch to get into, and I know they won’t hold our table. So I see the light’s red, but I think, like, what the fuck. And I grab your hand, and I run. I run – and the horn blares. The horn blares, and I feel the slam of the fender into me. And I know I can’t – I know I won’t – I know it’s over.
But over for me doesn’t have to mean over for you. Not now. So I pull hard on your hand, and I hold you so tight, and I twist, and I spin – and I pull you and I pull – and I throw you clear. I throw you clear, so you’re past the car, and you’re past the fender, and I know you’ll be OK. And I see you, and you’re crying, and I tell you I love you – but I don’t know if you see my lips move. But I know why. I know why that was then, and I know this is now. And I know what they say – how your life flashes in front of you – I know it’s true. And I don’t care. Because you’re alive, and even if I’m not going to be – I know I had you. I know we had us. And the dark comes down and…

[F]
I take my mouth off his cock. Poor kid. He never stood a chance. It’s not a pentacle job. Just an every day pickup. Poor bastard. I saw him run into the road, and push you out of the way of the car. A stupid cunt on her stupid cell phone, and he saved your fucking worthless life. And that should have been it, right? I mean, it’s what I do, and it’s what I’m here for, and the Boss won’t be happy if I screw up.
So I take him. Or I fucking start to.
I start to suck his soul out of his cock, and he’s already so fucking hard, and I see it. His life. His life, always near you, always wanting – and never doing. Because he knew he’d never get. And I hear you. I hear you right here and right now, and you’re laughing. You’re laughing, and you’re telling your crew how, like, damn you’re good, and you heard the car, and you just ran, and how, like, dumb Jimmy the Geek must have tripped, and what the fuck was he following you again for, anyway?
And you’re a fucking liar. And a fucking liar? That’s good enough for me.
Or, if it’s not good enough, it’s like, bad enough. Because bad’s what I deal in. So I take Jimmy’s cock in my mouth again, and I put back what I took out. The people round me don’t matter a fuck. They’ll just see me doing mouth to mouth or something, if they see me at all. And the kid, he’s going fast. So I can’t give him much – but I can give him maybe enough. Maybe, like, five years. Five years he should have had, if you weren’t the bitch you are.
And as I’m blowing him – or, and I grin, his soul, at least – I hear them. Wings. Which could be a problem. The boys upstairs, they’re like boys everywhere. All ‘look at my big flaming sword’ and not a smart thought in their heads. And the wings get louder, and I look up, and say hi because, like, professional courtesy and the whole not-wanting-to-get-my-head-cut-off thing. And he lands. But it’s Mekaraeth, and he’s one of Jude’s boys, so I figure things might work out. And I ask him what he’s doing, and he says, like, a pickup, and I say, like, as innocent as I can, this kid here? Because I was, like, just keeping him warm for whoever came by. And Mekaraeth, he says how, no, it’s a girl, like, that one over there, and it’s kind of strange, since she’s supposed to be, like, dead and all. And I say how, like, maybe he should look again, because, like, the kid’s dead and not you, and maybe somebody made a mistake? And how not all Lost Causes are as Lost as they might look. And Mekaraeth, he looks at me, and he looks at you, and he says, like, am I sure? And I say oh, yes. I am so fucking sure. And Mek, he takes out his book, and he rubs out a line, and he writes a new line in, and he looks at me and says how he’s going to be kind of busy for a while, and he’s not going to be able to notice a thing I do while he picks up his delivery – and he takes Jimmy.
And that’s it. Because I know the Boss doesn’t give a shit, so long as the numbers are right. And I shift, and I shimmer, because he told me I could work both sides of the street now, and I’m Bad Boy Joe Drop Out, all leather jacket and tight jeans. And I walk over to you, and I say how maybe your girlfriends should take a hike, because we’ve got places to go. So you look me up, and you look me down, and it’s mostly down, because I’m all bulge-and-no-brain. And you tell your girls to get seriously lost, and you ask me where my wheels are. So I say they’re round the corner, and we walk.
And you think we get in my Porsche, because I’m fucking good at what I do, and you think you sit next to me, and you think you unzip me, and you think you take out the cock I don’t have, and you tell me how you like a guy who’s hard to get. Or, and you grin, at least one who’s fucking hard. And you think I gun the gas, and you bend over, and you think you start sucking the cock you think I have. And you look up, and you say how you hope I’m up to it, because it’s too long since you’ve been properly fucked.
And I grin, and I say how I think I can take care of that.
And I wrap my black wings round you, and the pit opens, and we fall. We fall, and the flames roar, and they bite you and your skin crisps. And I grin. Because my Boss may be the Prince of Lies – but I’m not, and I keep my word. Because I’m Kateralziban, Succubus of Hell – and you’re more fucked than you’ve ever been, bitch.