I’m late again. This is my third date in a row with Lina that I’ll have shown up late to. I showed up 15 minutes early the first time we met; we got coffee at a little place on Carson Street called Delaney’s. She wore a little red sundress with white daisies on it. The dress hung just above her knees, modest enough to excite me over a challenge. She ordered her coffee black and teased me when I put cream in mine. “I didn’t know I agreed to go out on a date with a woman; I thought you said you were a writer? Don’t all writers drink their coffee black?”

Ever since then, I haven’t really been focused much on punctuality. It seems like I am continuing the habit tonight. Lina will understand. She’ll have to understand. Unless. She doesn’t. Then:


She is a beautiful woman, that Lina; with her sylvan features and azure blue eyes accented by brown, almost-black hair that has hints of a slight curl to it even when straightened; a smile a mile long; firm, muscular legs; a tight waist; perky tits plopped on the center of her chest; and a perkier ass to boot!

I wonder if she has hair on her cunt tonight?

Would she be uncomfortable if I asked her? I see no harm in it. Maybe I’ll ask her between hello kisses: “Lina, do you have a bush on your snatch, or are you clean-shaven like a schoolgirl?”

I need a cigarette to clear my head.

My mind mills about Lacan’s idea of Objet petit a. Asking her that was an awful idea. It is completely unnecessary for me to give up on this retroactive illusion of possible perfection that is going to linger in the atmosphere around Lina and I the entire night. I could picture the moment of ruination in my head so vividly.

“Yes, Pat. I shaved away my pubic hair this morning,” and I stick my hand between her thighs and there I feel it, just a little stubble, stubble that would barely be visible to the naked eye unless one knew it were there previously and were looking for it with a magnifying glass. How utterly disappointing that would have been! I better not ruin my night before it even starts.

My cigarette is finished.

I’m 15 minutes late. Lina is sitting at the bar. She has jeans on. This is the first night we have gone out together and she wasn’t wearing a dress. She must be starting to feel more comfortable around me. Tonight is going to be casual. What a pleasant start. Her taxicab-yellow sweater had little balls of fabric hanging off of it. She looked as though she had walked into the room through a door of sunsets, the Great Sol showering her with his radiance, licking at her heels with every step she took. Lina’s face lights up like the sun when she sees me. I could swear her aura was causing the entire room to breath in and out at a tempo that only she knew. Clementine orange streaks of color flashed in random intervals inside the neon yellow halo surrounding her head. The dingy little bar, with its low-hanging ceilings and bright red upholstered stools and booths looked like it was brought into the current year, with Lina sitting there, bathing every lucky Dick and Jane who happened to be customers at this fine little dive that night in the fire that flowed so freely from her Manipura. She has a drink in front of her, I’m hoping it’s her second. I’ll catch up quickly.

I walk up beside her; we exchange a kiss and brief “hellos,” “how are yous.” I make a waving motion directed down to the opposite end of the bar with my hands trying to get the attention of the bartender. I order her a shot of Jack Daniel’s and myself two shots of the same, plus a bottle of IC Light.

Lina gives me a funny look.

“It’s like I got here when you did now,” I say to her between tossing the two shots down my throat. “Let’s move to a table or a booth or something; the bar’s far too crowded to talk to you how I would like.” I pinch her ass a little harder than she is expecting because she makes a high pitch little “yip” sound and looks at me as if I were doing something that was going to get us into a lot of trouble. I grab our drinks and lead Lina to a booth on the left side of the bar.

I think the man that was sitting caddy corner across the bar from me knew Lina, from the way he looked at her—both longingly and as a piece of lost property he is not able to reclaim—the way he never stopped looking at me, sizing me up like he was at the tracks trying to decide which horse to bet on, to the way Lina acted like that quarter of the room didn’t exist at all.

I wonder who the better lover is?

I doubt it’s him, with those jealous green eyes. I am satisfied with that thought. If he is who my sexual prowess will be compared to tonight, then I have not a thing in the world to worry about! I’ll make sure Lina is nice and fucked tonight. Not in a million lifetimes would I ever want to live as that man, not if I could even if I tried. I am far too deeply in love with cunt for that.

Lina reaches her hand into my pants and grabs my cock under the table. That confirms it; they were lovers. Don’t worry, darling; I am going to put on a show for you tonight. I came through her fingers while she whispered in my ear, “I can’t believe I’m doing this! I feel like such a whore! Oh, my! OH, MY! You came already?! Why didn’t you say something? It’s all over my hand now! What do you want me to do with this, huh?”

Like I care. That green-eyed motherfucker was watching us the whole time. Watching Lina’s arm move while her hand slid up and down my prick. I don’t think she noticed, though. She was still busy whispering nonsense and honey in my ear. I noticed and I didn’t much like it. I was not feeling like much of the exhibitionist tonight and Lina was far too pretty for me to put up with behavior like that from someone I was certain had fucked her.

Our glasses are empty.

“I’m going outside for a cigarette. I’ll order us drinks at the bar on my way out.”

“Hurry back,” she said, “I’ll miss you.”

I grab both sides of her face and plant my open mouth over hers with a smack. Her tongue is in my mouth. My tongue is in her mouth. She tastes of sex. I taste of cheap Pittsburgh beer and cigarettes. Her lips are thin. Our tongues waltz. She runs her right hand through my hair, stops at the back of my neck, and runs her fingertips over the shaved parts. I kiss her again; this time our mouths are closed. We just sit there for a solid minute or two, not moving, bodies intertwined, lips locked, her hand on my neck, both my hands planted firmly between her thighs. Her breath is slow, warm, heavy on my cheek.

I’m staring at Green-Eyes.

He is staring back at me.

He knows that I know.

I know that he knows.

My cock is hard again.

Our lips part. I kiss Lina on the top of her head. “I’ll be right back,” turning my back to her I start off over to the bar, fumbling to put my hat and jacket on while I walk. I put one chair between Green-Eyes and myself and wait for the bartender to finish up the conversation he is having with a man two stools over, something about Wahabists in South America. I’m not paying much attention; most days I would weasel my way right into the middle of a conversation like this one and start off monologuing. Going off on one of the many rants on topics similar to this that I have been slowly refining over the years. This wasn’t most days. I have two Jade daggers driving deeper and deeper into my back every second I stand here.

I order the drinks for the table and turn to Green-Eyes, “I know you fucked Lina and I can tell you want to again. I got her all wound up; she’ll screw anything tonight. I’m tired of you watching us like this, so I’ll make you a deal. I’m going outside to smoke a cigarette: if you come out and kick my ass, I’ll leave and she’s all yours for the night. It’ll be a nice little set up for you. Her all hot and bothered and having been ditched, left alone, ghosted. She’ll definitely have something to prove to the world after that. You could have yourself a great lay.”

I didn’t even wait for a response. I just walked outside, lit my cigarette, and started to smoke.

Green-Eyes never came outside.

Walking back to my booth, I spot Lina first; her arms and legs are both crossed over each other and her shoulders are slouched forward. Her face is twisted and contorted around the spot between the top of her upper lip and the bottom of her nose. Her mouth pursed, her cheeks are flushed pink and raised, her eyes are squinted. She is visibly uncomfortable. I get closer to the booth. Now I can see why. There is Green-Eyes sitting practically on top of her. Instead of coming out to fight me, that ugly little vermin, that slimy little slug, that conniving creature of cowardice, he went right to Lina and probably told her of my proposition! Do you have no moxy in you? No pride in your authority? Have you abandoned your manhood in the quest for coochie? Simp. Beta. Cuck. You can try to orbit my woman, but I will shoot you out of the sky! I am now visibly agitated. Green-Eyes can see this. Lina can see this and she has hidden apologetic waves ripple slowly, barely noticeable across the discomfort on her face.

“Where’s my beer?” I asked directed at Lina but addressing the both of them.

“He drank it.” She pointed with her a tilt of her head to Green-Eyes on her right. I wonder how that little bastard managed to slither his way behind her in the booth. I can tell by the way Lina is looking at me that she wants nothing more right now than to avoid some kind of conflict. Her aura has changed from a bright yellow with orange streaks and flashes in it to a soft, almost fuzzy-looking violet blue with blurry, muddy spots of magenta that for a brief moment jump into focus and draw in all your attention before losing it just as quickly.

Green-Eyes looks at me; the look on his face reminds me of the look that all three of my younger brothers would share when they were tattling on me for misbehaving to either my mother or my father when we were children. He doesn’t say anything; he just looks at me like this. My blood is boiling. I want to clench my fist into a tight little ball and crack him on the bridge of his nose with a straight right, and then maybe follow it up by a hook from my left elbow. I refrain. This is only the end of the second act. I don’t want to reach the climax too soon.

“Whatchu say to Green-Eyes while you were up at the bar ordering us drinks, Pat?” It was Lina’s turn to ask me the questions. Get ready for your show, baby. Here starts Act Three.

“I actually interjected upon on the conversation Green-Eyes, the bartender, and that man still sitting at the end of the bar were having.” I make a full body motion to point to the man who was talking to the bartender before I had ordered our last round of drinks. “It was a rather boring and quick exchange which I’m rather happy that I got out of so quickly.” I really start to lay it on thick now. “The bartender and the guy next to him were talking about the rise of Wahhabism in South America. Something about how the Saudis were funneling hundreds of millions of dollars into building mosques on the continent. I said something along the lines of ‘We’ve been too busy fighting the mujahedeen over in the Middle East, focusing on defending Israel’s borders from radical Islamic terrorism, that we failed to notice the rising tide of Jihadis on our own border.’ Which is when your buddy chimed in.”

“He’s not my buddy; trust me, Pat.” Lina felt the need to interrupt me just to say that. She is falling for the trap I’m setting.

“Okay,” I continue on with my act, “that’s when he chimed in and voiced his opinion on the subject matter. Better?” I asked Lina.

“Better.” She confirmed with a head nod.

“Now, how was it that you put it again?” I take a long drag from my beer; Green-Eyes just sits there staring at me probably wondering where I plan on stopping this train at. “Oh, that’s right! You said how you wished the president ‘would kill all those shitskin goat-fuckers, no matter where in the world they were.’ And then that’s when I knew it was the right time for me to get out of the conversation, so I took my leave and went and had my smoke.”

With that last little detail to my story, everything came together. Lina’s face went from a look of obvious discomfort and hidden contrition to one of total disgust and revulsion. There is no remorse left on her face for having felt somewhat responsible for our current interaction with Green-Eyes; all that is left are strobing lights that flash white-hot rage into the night. Lina looks as though she is smelling the world’s rankest pile of shit. In this moment, with that look plastered on her face, I knew that I had won myself a great victory. No matter how much Green-Eyes protests my story as being nothing more than a fabrication of my imagination, no matter how many appeals to their past he makes, it won’t matter. Lina had heard a tale that confirmed all of the awful, horrible things she knew were true about this man, and no one alive or dead could convince her that any other truth existed in this world other than her own. Green-Eyes was a piece of shit; of course it would make sense that he was a racist, too.

God bless this post-modern world.

In the midst of his protests, Lina gets up and starts to inch her way out of the booth next to me. Green-Eyes starts to get belligerent; spittle shooting out of his mouth with every syllable, his voice goes booming through the bar and the rest of the room seems almost as if it is suspended in perpetual motion; stillness surrounds us; silence; eyes focused on the spectacle we are becoming. He starts to yell profanities, motherfucking this and motherfucking that. Calling me a liar and screaming about how full of shit I am, begging and pleading with Lina between expletives. Finally, he turns to me, leans over the table, pokes a finger in my chest, and says, “I should have came outside and kicked your ass when I had the chance, you fucking piece of shit.” I agree with mostly everything he is saying; it’s all true, more or less. Lina doesn’t know that ,though.

Green-Eyes, in the midst of his rage, grabs Lina’s arm and stops her from fully leaving the booth. My blood boils. You can see the steam shooting out of my ears; if it hadn’t been for Green-Eyes’ bellowing, you could hear the whistles as well. Lina is standing one foot in the booth, one foot out, shivering; she’s almost completely slumped over and looks like she could fall at any moment, there is water welling up in her eyes, and she looks like she’s on the verge of bursting into tears and collapsing simultaneously. Green-Eyes is seated next to Lina, left hand wrapped around Lina’s right arm, his grip constantly tightening and readjusting; his eyes are glazed over looking as if no one is home, there is a little spittle running down the left side of his chin, his shirt is untucked all except for right above his belt buckle, and there are veins bulging out of his forehead and neck. I am standing at the head of the table, a foot away from Lina, Green-Eyes’ smug mug is less than an arm’s length away.

“Let go, or you’ll get that chance to kick my ass.” I take off my jacket and toss it on the table.

Lina starts to screech like a banshee, flailing about violently, “LET GO! LET GO! LET GO! LET GO! LET GO!”

At this point, we’ve made a big enough ruckus to attract two very hefty-looking bouncers and one very drunk, burley, overweight, bearded man around 30 who is wearing a brown leather jacket and a Pittsburgh Pirates baseball cap.

Green-Eyes let go.

Lina immediately dashes behind me, clutching onto my shirt; I feel her entire body quivering, her breasts are pressed tightly against my back, the metal rings on her nipples are hard even through both of our clothes. I know she isn’t wearing a bra. She puts her left leg between my legs. My cock smacks against the front of my jeans. I pick my jacket off of the table and use it to hide my erection.

The security guards are between me and him now. They’re arguing with each other. Neither one of the security guards are paying us any mind. The drunk man in the ball hat is still lingering around, listening in.

I turn to Lina and grab her by the shoulders reassuringly, “Everything is alright, baby. Let’s get out of here.” I take her by the hand and lead her past the bar, through the door, and out into the parking lot. We walk past the lines of cars and down the street into the alley where I parked. As soon as we get into my car, Lina breaks down into violent sobs. In between her wailing, she keeps apologizing to me for having ruined our night. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I just never expected that would happen. I’m SO sorry.” She is repeating this over and over again.

She definitely won’t be upset with me about being late for the third date in a row after all of that nonsense. I am sure she has almost all but entirely forgotten about my streak of tardiness. I scored myself the second great victory of the night.

Act Three of tonight’s show has ended; now it’s time for the final act.

I take Lina in my arms, consoling her, petting her head. “I don’t care who he was, baby. You don’t have to bother telling me.”

She kisses me. Her lips, her cheeks, her entire face is wet. She tastes salty. I slip my tongue in her mouth and she lets me run it around hers while she holds it still.

I am going to get fucked by a scorned woman tonight.

“I’m so sorry, Pat. Please forgive me. Let me make it up to you. Does this feel good? Is this helping you forgive me? Oh yeah, baby, right there! Harder! Harder!”

I stick my hand down her pants; she’s completely smooth, no stubble at all. That little slut probably shaved away her pubes right before she left. Her cunt is wetter than her face. I slip my middle and ring fingers inside of her, pulling them towards my palm to massage the top of her inner walls. My thumb running in circles around her clit to the rhythm of my fingers. She starts moaning.

She’s moaning so loudly now I’m sure Green-Eyes and everyone else inside the bar can hear her. “Oh yeah baby, right there! That feels so good! OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OH YES!”

“Let’s go back to your place,” I say to her in between kisses.

“Alright.” She gives me another kiss. I pull my hand out of her pants and she bounces back in her seat. She adjusts herself, zips up her zipper, and buttons her pants back up.

I start the car and we pull out of the alley. Lina has her hands in my pants the entire drive, fondling my balls and tugging on my prick. I try to cum again, but I can’t.

There’s an open spot to park right in front of her apartment building, so I take it. We kiss on and off the entire walk. She lives on the second floor of the building, the second to last door on the left. We stop on the middle of the steps and kiss for five minutes. We stop outside the door to the stairwell in the hallway and kiss along the wall for another ten minutes. It is around 1AM now on Friday; I’m not worried about anyone being up and about, and even if they are and they happen to stumble across us, I don’t care anymore. They can’t have more piercing eyes that that motherfucker earlier. What should have been a three-minute walk turned into a 20-minute walk.

It seemed like before Lina even turned the key to unlock the door, her clothes were off. The next thing I know, she is fully naked on top of me. I am laying on her bed, still dressed. She manages to slip my cock out from under my jeans and underwear and sits on top of it, slipping it inside of her. This bitch is hot; there is no foreplay, I guess what we did in the car was enough for her. She places her hands on my chest, postures herself up, and starts grinding her pelvis against mine. I can feel the tip of my prick rubbing back and forth against her cervix. She starts gyrating her hips clockwise and then counterclockwise and then clockwise again. I place my face between her perky little tits and start ramming up against her from the bottom. She grabs my face and kisses me. Pressing her elbows against my shoulder for support, she starts to slide up and down my cock like a jackhammer. We cum together. As we are cumming, Lina blurts out, “Fuck, your cock is so much nicer than Green-Eyes’.”

That’s it.

I flip her over on her back and put both of her legs on my shoulders, and with a blind fury, like a bull seeing red, I start thrusting my cock into her as hard and as deep as she can take it. I fuck her with such intensity her cunt stays stretched open and gaping even if I exit it, which makes it so I never have to break my rhythm if I slip out of her.

“HARDER! HARDER!” She is screaming mad.

Bitch, the inside of your thighs are going to be covered in bruises tomorrow, your cunt is already ripped to shreds; if I fucked you any harder, I would shatter your pelvis into a million tiny pieces.

By the time I cum again, she has cum twice more. I roll off of her and onto my back. I look over toward her and she is laying on her side with her hands between her thighs, arms hiding her tits, her beautiful baby blues fixated on me.

“I’m spent after fucking you like that. I’m going to call it a night, Lina.” I kiss her slow, passionately, and just long enough so she knows that I was serious about sleep and that I didn’t have another go under the sheets in me tonight. The show is coming to an end, baby.

“Goodnight, Pat.” She gives me one more quick peck, rolls over, gesticulates her ass, motioning to me to get up tight against her, reaches to grab the string hanging off of the lamp that is sitting on her nightstand and shuts off the light.

The room goes dark.

I scoot as close to Lina as I can possibly get, place my left arm around her waist, and scoop one of her breasts up in my hand. I bury my face in her hair and inhale deeply a few times. She smells like fig leaves and almonds. I think of everything that has transpired tonight and I give myself a slight chuckle and a pat on the back. Not so often does one get to appreciate the fruit of his mental labors, but tonight, the fates have smiled down upon me and given me a night that is worth my appreciation. I am as content as I have been in a long while. I shut my eyes and fall asleep; great victory number three.