We had rhythm and nerve, and had taken all the air out of the room, so all that was left was our sex, and everything contained in that room—the bed, my small desk, the altar, the window curtain, the scuba gear under the bed—all pieces of the four cautions ( a woman before, a horse behind, a cart sideways, and a priest everyway)…It was as hot with groove as hell with heat…the electrics in my body entire were off the grid, and the increasing sensation in the perfect 3-4-5 triangle made between my gut shakra, my cock tip, and my nuts was making my head spin…and deep in the testes, from 15 minutes of various positions, deep and shallow strokes, on tops, on bottoms, from behinds, standings, sittings, etc., came the inevitable flow of finish matter which I blew copiously into that condom she had made me put on half-way through, and Johanna met me right there with a thundering orgasm of her own, so that the amount of sweat and heaving was pitch perfect and we were fucking flying, hitting, banging it down and out…fucking magical, a checkered flag finish worth instant replay…right on cue…
It had been a long time since I had simultaneous orgasm with anyone and that delicious drowsiness made especially keen because of our black and white contrast…let’s face it, the taboo is still as strong as it ever was, for we both embraced the exotic of the other…I neglected to mention the array of dirty phrases Johanna and I traded back and forth, but suffice it to say we utilized the following vocabulary in max and match combinations: cock, cunt, suck, come, rump, nightingale, steel pen coat, steamer, blossom, two with you!, two turns around the long boat, Japanese knife trick, jelly-dogging, copious weeping, the Butcher, Phiz, Phyz, Physog, and others…She favored the use of gerunds and non sequiturs while I chose the more direct preterit tense…all of this in Spanish of course…
“not bad, you are mr. American Mystery guy, you had some good practice with that girlfriend of yours, eh?”
I had no problem telling her right off “Yes, it’s true, I have this Ecuadorian girl, we just met a few weeks ago and she’s on the mainland with her ex…and we’re going to Ecuador in a few weeks when she gets her plane ticket worked out and dumps the guy…” She looked at me with upturned brow…
“How did you know I had a girl?”
“A guy like you, with those moves you make and those eyes full of California and that wine-pan you got…ah, I could see you were trouble from the first time I see you.”
It was nice. It was straight…the dark would have none of her for I was going to take her all for myself, this innocence, this straight on the core immediacy, proof of no American in her…sweet relief of that…I liked talking to her…
“So, you like my dance moves, huh? The way I punta…never seen that in an American stiff before, huh?”
“Hah!, shit, you can’t even move those hips fast enough for my mother…”
- Michael Price
