Skin on Skin (14 page)

“Y
ou,
what?
” Verónica almost dropped the tray of salt and pepper shakers that she was carrying from table to table.

“Shhh, Verónica. The whole diner doesn’t have to know!”

“Well, shit, Lola. If I had known you were going to run off and do that last night with
him
, I would’ve worried about you disappearing from the party like that.”

Apparently, she hadn’t been worried about where I went—until now, that is—busy having her own tryst with Icy Eyes on the foggy rooftop of the Victorian. I had actually expected my cousin to give me a high five when I told her about finally getting laid or even make some dumb joke about bringing a whole new meaning to the expression
lay on the horn.

“Fuck, what is it, Verónica? Does he have an STD or something? We used a condom.”

An old lady, her gray hair dyed a ghastly purple hue, looked up from her poached eggs in disgust.

“Here, have some salt.” Verónica quickly offered in a lame effort to placate the elderly patron. She quickly pushed me on to the next table, out of scolding range.

“Verónica, what is it?” I whispered as she switched an empty pepper shaker with a full one.

“Remember, I’m
Betty
in front of the customers.” Veronica pushed her finger into the pinstriped front of her polyester uniform where
Betty
was stitched in gold thread. All of us waitresses at the diner had fake names designated by our uniforms. I was Ruby.

“Okay,
Betty,
what is the problem?” She whisked the tray to the next table. I could tell she was annoyed with me, but I really didn’t know why. I had five minutes before my shift started to find out.

“The
problem
is, he’s my friend Teresa’s boyfriend.”

“What?!? He didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend.” I suddenly felt flimsy, like a cardboard cutout of myself. One greasy breath from a customer could have knocked me over.

“Well, I mean, they just broke up a couple weeks ago. But they’re always doing that and getting back together.” I remembered Teresa suddenly, like you remember a bad dream; in broad daylight, her hourglass waist and platinum hair haunted me. I had met her my first night at Tito’s. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so glamorous with my dyed black tresses.

I changed the subject as if this bit of information had no effect on me, though really I felt like crying. I could be such a girl sometimes.

“Nacho’s a real psycho. What was he doing outside our apartment, anyway?”

“He probably just really likes you and wanted to see you. See why you haven’t called him back,” she responded coolly. Why was she being such a
puta
? I tried to tell myself it was because it was the end of her shift and she had hardly slept the night before having to get to work early. I was lucky to have the afternoon shift on Saturdays.

“Here.” She practically shoved the tray in my hands. “Do you mind finishing this? I want to get out of here. I’m practically keeling over.” Even when she was hungover and exhausted, my cousin’s hair was perfectly tucked into her paper cap and her face smooth and flawless, like the powdered surface of a compact.

“Yeah, no problem.” The tray wobbled in my unsteady hand, the heavy glass shakers clinking like crystal. I watched Verónica promenade to the back of the diner, blithely dropping her final checks on tables. One check fluttered to the floor, rotating in the air like paper windmill. I rushed over to pick it up.

Now I really didn’t know what to think about what had happened between Neil and me. Not that I was naïve enough to believe everything he had said or even that he would come pick me up after work, which he had offered to do because he didn’t want me to walk home alone in case Nacho was still lurking about. But when he dropped me off last night, dawn already freshening the air and gilding each blade of grass, I felt something awaken between our mouths as they yawned together in a lasting kiss.

I glanced down at his number, written on the inside of my wrist.
Won’t wash off as easily,
he had said. I smiled and reexperienced the glow I had awakened with late this morning. The sun was actually shining in San Francisco today, almost too brightly, and I had felt positively radiant, inside and out, as I walked to work. Yet maybe Neil’s heart did indeed belong to someone else. Maybe my fantasy of him had colored the world gold when in fact it belonged to a more complicated palate. One of the busboys, carrying a heavy dishpan, stopped in front of me.

“Table four is ready to order.” He looked a bit like Nacho, with his shaved head and baggy pants. More like the boys from Tucson who picked me up in their lowriders and rapped along to their blaring car stereos. Not boys who looked like Elvis and listened to old country music and liked Nabokov.

“Thanks, Edmundo. Tell them I’ll be right over.”

What did Neil see in me, anyway? I was nothing like that girl Teresa, who was so hiply dressed and confidently coiffed. I didn’t have time, however, to contemplate my insecurities. The hostess was seating a six-top in my section. San Francisco was waking up at two in the afternoon, hungover and blinking like a nest of baby birds. If I didn’t feed them soon, those beakless mouths would begin their incessant clamor.

The hours passed by fast at first, served rapid-fire on plate after plate of omelets and hash browns. Later, as the sky began to darken, and the last of the brunch customers straggled out around dinnertime, the minutes trickled by slowly. Doubt began to drip like a leaky faucet until I had a pail full of uncertainty.
Neil wasn’t going to come by. Who was I kidding?
Still, I fingered the tiny crucifix trapped sacrilegiously in my cleavage and prayed that he would show.

He didn’t. I punched out at nine on the dot with my jacket in hand. I bummed a cigarette off Edmundo even though I didn’t smoke and waited until I was around the corner from the diner to light up. A breeze extinguished my efforts. The fog had started to roll in and brought with it the chilly sea air.

“Those things’ll kill you.” My heart leapt like a puppy recognizing the voice of its master. Neil leaned against the front of his truck, his arms crossed in a manner that conveyed that he had been standing there a while, watching me struggle with the wind. He was dressed all in black—black jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket—looking hotter than hell.

“Um, yeah, I don’t really smoke. It was just a long day, that’s all.” Relief washed me clean, and I sparkled.

“Cute dress.” He stepped away from the parked pickup and traced the A-line down to its hem. The itchy polyester tickled my skin.

“I guess I’m a bit late. Sorry.” He leaned down to kiss me full on the mouth. Taken by surprise, I barely kissed him back, and his moist lips pressed flatly against mine like a postage stamp to an envelope.

“Don’t worry about it. I usually rush out of there the minute my shift ends.” I was still holding the unlit cigarette, and he removed it from my hand and tossed it to the sidewalk.

“C’mon, let’s get a drink.” His fingers handcuffed my wrist, and I followed him to the truck, a willing prisoner.

“I thought you were driving me home.”

He cocked a heavy eyebrow.

“Did you want to go home?”

“Well, if we’re going out, I’d like to change out of this embarrassing uniform.”

He started the engine. It grumbled like a crotchety, old man.

“No way, I want you in that little fifties getup. Until, that is, I take it off you…
Ruby
.” He touched my embroidered breast, and I puffed up to fill his hand. His palm rested there for a moment and then deftly slid across my chest to touch the vee of bare skin that dropped down my neck.

This time, I really kissed him back. I felt his thigh vibrate next to mine from the revved engine, and I held onto that hardy muscle as the slighter muscle of my tongue worked itself into his mouth. I was already getting slippery between my legs and swore I could smell the sex from last night seeped into the pickup’s musty upholstery.

I pulled away first, remembering Verónica’s words, and decided to play it coy. His lips still hung in the air for more, but I patted his thigh in consolation.

“Where are we getting drinks?” Realizing that our little make-out session was over for now, he shifted in reverse.

“It’s a surprise,” he stationed his free arm around my shoulders, “but I don’t think you’ve ever seen anything like it.”

N
eil was right: nothing could have prepared me for La Estrella. The unassuming bar was not unlike Tito’s in its anonymous façade and seedy interior. Everything about the bar was peeling, from the paint on the outside to the cracked linoleum squares of the dance floor on the inside. Middle-aged Latino men danced cheek to cheek with women whose makeup was applied thick and shiny like lacquer. I wondered if the couples would be able to peel their faces apart when the song ended.

It wasn’t until Neil handed me a Tecate that I realized what was queer about the place. I was the only female—biological, that is—in the whole establishment. The ladies dancing and flirting in Spanish with men, many who resembled my father in their blue-collar wear and creased faces, were all in drag. These drag queens often towered above the men, wearing heels even higher than Verónica would dare and in sizes that must have been special ordered. Their voluminous hair—wigs, I suspected—added even more extraordinary heights. The one closest to me donned Tammy Faye eyes. I was impressed.

“C’mon, I want to introduce you to Ana.” I followed Neil down a dimly lit corridor, which some couples found more private than the dance floor. They hung on each other like teenagers who, having no other place to go, resort to bus shelters and public stairways for their liaisons. I tried not to stare, but nobody noticed Neil and me anyway.

Neil knocked on a door with a star on it. It looked like it was cut out of aluminum foil. An effete voice inside granted us permission to enter. The room was like an incubator, all lit up with hot bulbs that framed mirror after mirror of two facing rows of vanities. The dressing room smelled distinctly of baby powder. Amidst open compacts of face paint and dresses adorned with ostentatious ruffles and sequins, sat a mermaid. Clad in a sea-green satin gown that tapered tightly at the calves before flaring out again like a fish tail sat the most stunning trick on nature. Her blond hair was long and hung in ringlets down to her breasts, which looked real to me—not the hair, that is.

“Neil,
mi hijo
!” She rose like Venus from a sea foaming with chiffon and taffeta. Neil kissed her politely on the cheek, which was accentuated by a liberal amount of bronzer. She peered over his shoulder curiously to where I was sinking into a drapery of feather boas.

“What’s that you’re hiding behind your back, darling boy?”

I stepped shyly into the glamorous glare.

“Ana, this is Lola.” She gave me the once-over. Her fake lashes extended nearly to her powdered brow.

“Well, well, Neil. I guess us ladies here can’t really compete.” I smiled timidly, unsure if this was a compliment.

“Don’t worry, doll. We never stood a chance with Neil. He prefers his chicks with
out
dicks.” Her laugh was high and hyperbolic. Neil grinned and gave me a reassuring squeeze around the waist. I felt tiny in the presence of the two of them.

“Children, I must leave you. I’ve got a Selena song to perform.
Again.
” She swept a green boa over her shoulder. It undulated like a sea creature.

“Be good,
mi amor.
” She planted another one on Neil and then patted my cheek. I wasn’t sure if it was a look of warning, or of approval, that Ana gave me under her violet-colored contacts. But it was a look exchanged between two women, the kind too subtle for men to detect.

After Ana’s dramatic exit, I took to exploring her curious lair. My hands trailed over various palates of eye shadow and rouge, which dusted my fingertips with a rainbow of color. Deciding on a garish shade of turquoise, I used my pinkie to swipe my lids. Neil watched me in the mirror, transfixed.

“Never seen a girl put on makeup before?”

“Does Ana count?” I turned around and laughed. He was sitting on the cluttered surface of one of the vanities, looking even manlier surrounded by all those feminine accoutrements.

“How’d you find this place, Neil?” I felt strangely at ease in this little room, heated and humming with all the bright bulbs.

“An ex took me here once.”

“Teresa?” I blurted out. Immediately, I regretted saying her name.

“Um, yes.” His expression looked almost piqued.

“I met her with Verónica.” I stumbled over the words, feeling as if I had to explain myself, although I really wanted him to do the explaining. “Verónica told me you two recently dated.”

I waited for him to say something, but he just nodded. It was an awkward moment spotlit by the myriad lightbulbs, which the mirrors only served to reflect into infinity.

“I mean, you guys aren’t still dating, are you?” I had to know for sure.

“Lola, come here.” Reluctantly, I moved into the open triangle of space between his gaping legs. He snatched me by the waist and pulled me in close. His hand ran up and down my spine as if it were a trusty banister he was afraid to let go.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last night. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror when I got home from dropping you off this morning.”

“Really?” His hand cupped my cheek, and I fell into its caress with a pleasant sensation of vertigo. When I opened my eyes they rested on a blond wig sitting on a dummy head just behind Neil, and I realized he hadn’t answered my question about Teresa.

“So are you and Teresa still dating?”

Neil looked sternly into my eyes and answered with a resounding
no
.

“I’m glad of it, too. That relationship was bad for me.” Yet, he didn’t go into much desired detail.

“But
you
, Lolita.” He was making me feeling radiant again and my pelvis tilted toward him as if it were a giant ear, to better hear his flattering words. “You are so sweet and smart, not to mention sexy as hell. I can’t stop myself from being drawn to you. I didn’t think I could feel this way about someone again….” His words faded into a kiss that started out soft and soulful but soon exploded open with passion, which tangled deep in our mouths and lodged in our throats, making it difficult to breathe.

My hands flew all over him, almost hitting him with their urgency to knead every surface of his hard body at once. He plunged down my dress and came up with two soft mounds of flesh. He began to lick my nipples, which peeked over the pink edges of my bra like rosy sunrises. I began pulling on him, on the fleshy lobes of his ears, on the slick ends of his hair. The desire simultaneously to devour him and be devoured by him tugged me down to my knees. I had every intention of returning the favor he had done for me on the hood of his truck.

As I unzipped his black jeans, he released an anticipatory moan that filled me with a seductive feeling of power. I freed his cock, which wasn’t too difficult, considering that, again, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. I began my exquisite torture on his cock, very carefully nibbling on the flushed tip. Neil let out a sharply exhaled,
Easy
, but I knew he liked it rough, the way I did, in the hands of someone I trusted to bring me pleasure, albeit via a little pain. The head was so tender and pink that I soon gave way to licking it like frosting off the top of a cup-cake.

“Take all of me in your mouth,” he growled. I looked up at him, still only rolling my tongue slowly around the smooth, salty skin of the head to tease him. He moaned again and grabbed my hair threateningly. I picked up speed but still only focused my lubricating action on the tip. My eyes dared him to do something about it. He tried. As he attempted to thrust himself deeper inside, I anticipated his lunge and pulled back without losing my suction on the delicious tip.

“You little coquette,” he cursed. This time, when he furiously thrust forward, I took him all the way in, sheathing him completely in my mouth. My hand flew to the base of his penis to stabilize my carnivorous assault on the shaft.

“God, I could come right now,” he groaned. Proud of my prowess, I began to leak between my legs. I wanted him both to pierce me down there while simultaneously filling my mouth with his pointed flesh. I resolved this by pulling aside my cotton panties and sticking a few fingers easily inside my hot pocket.

“That’s right, baby, touch yourself while you suck me.” But I couldn’t finger myself
and
give his cock the attention it deserved. I abandoned my dripping folds to use the pussy juices to rub his balls. This pushed Neil over the edge, and he almost toppled off the vanity on which he was so precariously perched.

“Oh, Lola, I’m going to come. Do you want me to come in your mouth?” Just as I was about to answer, my mouth thick with him, there was a loud knocking on the door.
Why did this always happen to me?

“Are you two decent?” The telltale lilt of a female impersonator made Neil jump back and smash against the mirror. Fortunately, my reflex hadn’t been to clamp down, and his throbbing hard-on slid out without incident. Quickly, he tucked it up into his pants where it refused to succumb to gravity.

I got to my feet just as Ana entered, and she caught me straightening my dress.

“What have you two been doing in my dressing room?” She eyed Neil’s boner unabashedly and then winked at me. “Dipping into my makeup, I see?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” But she was smiling at the both of us, thoroughly entertained up to her severely arched eyebrows.

“Shoo,
moscas.
I’ve got a costume change, and I don’t want you knowing my secrets.” She waved her hand, putting on airs with her acrylic nails, for us to scatter.

“C’mon, Lola.” Neil clasped my wrist, and we dashed out of the dressing room. I glanced back over my shoulder to say good-bye to Ana, but she had already turned from us to remove her wig. Underneath, her cropped hair was dark and straight like mine. I quickly looked away, knowing exactly how she felt as she studied her reflection in the mirror.

“I’m going to punish you for that.” We were back in the truck, and Neil was burning rubber back to his apartment. The Chevy flashed through the night: a red, tremulous ball of fire setting off car alarms in its wake.

“For what?” I asked coyly, rubbing Neil’s package through his jeans. His erection still hadn’t declined. He swerved around a black sedan pulling out of a parking space. A near miss.

“For teasing my dick back there with that gorgeous mouth of yours.” He quickly nipped at my neck as he gunned through a red light.

“Promise?”

“Promise, what?”

“To punish me.”

His black eyes darted at me, and I caught them in a quiver. I could only imagine what would transpire when we reached his apartment.

I spotted the garage up ahead, and my excitement increased tenfold. The sight of its shuttered, metal gate made my nipples excruciatingly taut. Only a week ago, I had stood before this very garage, my nostrils widening with the manly whiff of automotive grease, and caught sight of this tall, handsome stranger so powerfully gripping a heavy-headed wrench.

Neil parked at the curb.

“No time to open the garage,” he explained and hastily shut off the engine. Seizing my hand like a tool he would wield to his liking, Neil yanked me out of the truck. We dashed across the cold sidewalk to a drab-looking door next to the garage.

“C’mon, Lolita, hurry.” He rushed me through the front door. A dark staircase led up to his apartment, the stairs covered in a velvety material that padded my feet as I dashed up them. I tried not to trip as Neil prodded me from behind.

“Good, my roommate’s not home.” As soon as he shut the door to his tiny apartment, Neil pushed me up against it. The room was almost pitch black, but he didn’t bother switching on the lights. He crushed me against the closed door with the full weight of his body, and we kissed fervently in the dark. There was something so deliciously fresh about his mouth. The inside of his lower lip tasted slippery and cool, and I ran my tongue cleanly across his uneven teeth.

Without breaking our lip lock, Neil lifted me off the ground. I was light in his arms as he effortlessly carried me across the room. With my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, my dress rode up to my hips and the damp crotch of my panties pressed against his stomach. He was struggling now with the doorknob to his bedroom, and I tasted the salty bristles of his neck in long, thick strokes of my tongue.

The door sprung open to a small, messy room that pulsated with the neon sign of a neighboring bodega. In the bawdy glow, I noticed the walls were lined with mismatching bookshelves, most shoddily built and sulking under the burden of the written word. Neil banged me up against one of the shelves, his arms protectively cradling my back from the hard spines of the books.

“I have to have you right now. No time to strip,” he announced and vehemently unzipped his pants while precariously balancing me on the ledge of the bookshelf. He pushed down his jeans just enough so that his stirring manhood safely cleared the jagged teeth of the zipper. His piece crested like the mast of a ship atop a giant swell, and I grabbed it instinctively. It was hot and swollen in my hands, the head scarlet with fever. Inexplicably, Neil wrenched my hand off his stiff shaft and twisted my arm over my head.

“C’mon, put it in me,
coño.
” I felt belligerent in the agony of my desire. My panties were wedged in my engorged crevice, and, with my free hand, I swiftly yanked the damp, twisted fabric to one side. My slit gaped open and hungry for his inflamed tip only inches away. But he ripped my hand away from my panties. They snapped back against my cleft with a sting of pleasure. Now both my hands were pinned above my head, my wrists bound easily in his sinewy, one-handed grip.

“First, I need to check your oil.” He slipped a finger inside me, then another, with increased vigor. I struggled lustfully against his hand’s steadfast restraint as he calmly pulled out his fingers to examine like a dipstick.

“Just as I thought, all lubed up to fuck.” He sucked on his fingers, his dark eyes tunneling into me. This absolutely pushed me over the edge.

“I can’t stand this anymore, Neil,” I implored mournfully.

“Hold on.” Without warning, he released his hold on my wrists. I lurched forward into his chest and heard a distinctive crinkle where my right palm landed. I fished into his shirt pocket and sure enough, I discovered a wrapped condom.