Got this from eyean, that guy who created the sex quiz...i am sure he wont mind me publishing his works...its totally solid...out of the best league i ever seen manz...simply blows me away...awesome writing...he should have been a writer instead lar...


"and i will paint your toenails too..." i said, over a cup of coffee.
"oh stop, there is something evil in your smile," she replied but can hardly hide her grin too.
"devilish? demonic? maniacal?"
"no... wicked. you know, yummy wicked."
"horny?"
"hmmm. what do you think?" she said as she toyed with her fork.

sometimes she throws these and make you say what you think she's feeling right this moment. childish? no. playful. it all started this morning as we stepped out into the streets. the whole day ahead of us. i wore a light spring jacket and slung my camera bag over my shoulder. the small velbon tripod sticking it's feet up in the air. it was just past nine and we thought about having breakfast on the run. each having a messy sandwich and just wandering along blocks and blocks of concrete until she decides where to take me. i let her walk ahead for a few seconds. image-framing my mind. she wore black on a bright spring morning right down to her open sandals. i must've been lost in thought for quite some time because the next thing i knew, she was in front of my face.

"what?" she said as she flashed a side smile that slowly transformed into a sensual lower-lip bite.
"oh. just wondering about black," i answered, "if you're also wearing black underneath..."
"hahaha. that? ofcourse i am..."

she gave me a slight punch in chest and we laughed our way to find breakfast. we found one. bagelfellers? what a funny name, i thought. we walked along. aimlessly and soon enough i got my bearings and knew we were headed out to waterfront. she ate and sipped between walks and talks. i ate and smoked and took sips from her snapple. no cooties, she would always say. there was the occasional brisk wind that blew her hair over her face. i would snap pictures. then she'd be suppressing her smiles. why is that?

"i would love to spread your hair on the white sheets," i found myself saying, "and stand over just watching you..."
"just don't jump up and down the bed. it makes me dizzy..." she laughed.
"no seriously..."
"no. seriously." she said, sliding her hand upon my arm.
"ofcourse i won't jump. i'll be naked and it'd be funny if the swing-thing flaps up and down."
"buing," she said.

we broke in gales of laughter and sat on a concrete bench. i lit up again. she took the camera from my shoulder and studied the knobs and dials. she started shooting pictures. of me. it made me conscious. i'm used to be the one behind the lens. not the subject. she seemed to enjoy it. angling. framing. shutter just clicking and the whirring of the winding motor. she knew how to hold the cam. properly. i watched her fair hand contrasting underneath length of the black lens. she handled it well. her dainty fingers caressing the length of the cylindrical object. my mind raced. i tried not to think about it.

"you can shoot pictures of me when we get back," i told her, dragging a lungful of smoke in my chest.
"na-ah. this is enough. i don't know much about cameras."
"take naked pictures of me. well, after i shoot you first..."
"and do you think i'll do it?" she said. smiling impishly.
"we will... we will..."
"uhm. maybe..."

for the rest of the day. we went around the city and i would initiate these topics every half-hour or so. it was so casual. almost there. teasing. she would just listen and smile. make a retort or two. dismissing remarks that she didn't mean. eyes pondering. and there was that smile. not flirty but lined with sublime lust. it was heady. like downing your third six-pack after you lost a bet on your hometeam. we we're inside a kiddie toy shop when i told her about how i would love to see the shape of her back pasted in sweat on the wall. she seemed to flinch but told me to go on. how i would impale her in long agonising strokes. then i'd stop. and end my sentences with, "when we get back..."

mindblowing. like a daylong foreplay. the angry bulls of adrenaline rushing and subsiding in a controlled chaos of what is there to say. edging a bit up everytime. taking us there and pulling us down. it was a wonder we didn't get hit by a taxicab. we'd browse books and eye each other across the aisles. i was turning the pages on a book about royal navy ships of yore when i looked her way and she flashed a book from afar. kama sutra. i chuckled. the old man behind me just looked, and thought i was nuts. ofcourse i was going nuts. she placed it back in the shelf and bought the books she wanted. there was a staircase leading to the mezzanine. she went up and took a chair. and sat in one exquisite movement. she started reading. i was still looking at her when the lady behind the counter called me to step forward. i made silly purchase that day. animal kingdom fridge magnet poetry. how the hell would you turn words like "chordata" or "lupus" into poetry? i climbed the staircase after paying. we talked about books in hushed voices. the bookshop was full of people. nosey ones at that, she said.

"can you imagine yourself touched all over," i said looking away, "just by my fingertips..."
"ahhh. i can now..." she replied, giving me a slight kick under the table and matched it with that smile.
"you'd be standing still, legs slightly spread apart..."
"oh. god... stop it already... hihihi..."
"okay... what's french for undress me?"
"d?shabillez-moi..." she replied, with an unsure tone, "when we get back..."

two old ladies looked our way.

she said i can't smoke in the "cucina". time just flew and now it's lunch. we walked in ever tightening grips, touches and would let out a grunt, sigh or two every so often. she led me. more like, i was being allowed to say these things in the middle of serious or nonsensical talk. it was like a drug. dripping. inching. slowly. it transports us to a room. and then the mind runs wild. earlier, i placed my arms around her, locking her against the subway elevator. it wasn't crowded and the ride up was a long one. her back was behind me, her feet a step higher, the back of her head resting upon my shoulder. my mouth almost touching her ear. i whispered more. how i would cup my hands on her breasts and suck her shoulder blades when i spoon her later. she let out a giggle.

i wasn't really hungry. i played with my food. she had had plenty on her tray. i tried solving a crossword puzzle. american nuances. i'm so not used to that. she solved a few words for me. nice. she'd push her fork in my mouth, telling me to taste this or taste that. i'd always say yummy. it was all italian. we talked about stuff. a few gossips back home. who knocked up who and who's with who and whoever we couldn't really care less. i would look into her eyes and as always, she'd stare back. feline like. cat like. meow. purr. wicked. and i always tell her i love it. she would break off and look away or put the fork in her mouth and say, "oral fixation." then the laughter would echo again. each time much more suppressed than the last. for we know, by the end of the day. laughter would be gone. replaced by...

"desires," she said, pointing out an 18-across on the crossword puzzle.
"thank you..." i replied touching her cheek without letting my eyes leave the paper.
"you're welcome, honey," she added, "oh that other one is obvious..."
"this one? _ _ nni _ i _ gu_? oh, i know that. i'm saving it up for later."
with an amused tone she said "why?"
"because you're going to have it too..."
"ohh. god..."
"... lick her pearl but you can't get the belfast out of the girl..." i replied, finishing another word.
"what?"
"nicole blackman remember? her poem..."
"oh yes. she was weird..."
"strange, honey. strange," i said.
"like us..." she grabbed my neck and gave me a kiss, "when we get back..."

i was straining. i tried to shoot the billboards over broadway. a collage of ad each one promising to be as entertaining as it is forgettable. she had her favourites. i dare not tread on the phantom. i liked that even. i mean i saw it in london like four times. she would stay just behind me, pointing to some structures at times. but mostly, she'd just look at watch me do my thing. we found a flowershop, i bought a small oak in a pot. a bonsai oak? is it possible? or it looked like one. it was for her. she was amused at how i carried it around the streets and telling her stories about dryads. tree nymphs. she held my arm as we walked against the brisk hammering city winds. she wanted to watch a movie. i teased her about the great american idea of a date. movies and burger shop. she hates being called an "amgirl". then she lost her appetite. for a film. fuck. i was apologising and i think she must have loved the idea of me grovelling in the dirt. quick to forgive, she did.

"look an ice cream stand," she pointed out, "i'd like to have one..."
"hey, we just had our last meal two hours ago..."
"come..." she grabbed my free hand and we raced across the street. half-dragging me with my other hand on the flower pot.
"why would you want an ice cream now? i don't eat ice cream..."
"i know... but i want you to watch..."
"watch? what..."
"watch me while i..." she didn't finish her sentence, she let my mind to it.

sure she was there. in front of me. my butt seated on a railing with the flower pot on the pavement. we talked. she ate. it was distracting. my eyes were being led to her mouth. both her lips descending on top of the cold melting cream. she would speak, at times running her tongue along the sides of the cone. she did this deliberately. i thought. i lit a smoke, and looked across the traffic. her neck followed suit. the side of her face just in front of me. she looked at the ice cream in her hand and scooped up a soft fingerful... and placed it in her mouth...

she shopped on the side. bought a clothing or two. i sat on a lounge chair as i waited for her. the dressing room was partitioned by a curtain. she would toss what she took off on top of the curtain bar. i couldn't believe what she was doing. she was trying out a top and i could see her fingers hanging her underpants. i stood up and walked towards the curtain.

"what are you doing?" i asked in a hushed voice.
"i'm standing here... naked..." her voice enticing.
"what?" i feigned deafness.
"naked... and you can't come in..." she continued, "i'm watching myself in all three mirrors. just please stand there."

the people coming out of the other dressing rooms were looking at me. she spoke as if there was no one in the world but us. i would cringe at how she said she's touching the sides of her breasts. her tummy. how it would feel to have my lips on the part she's caressing. fuck. i was screaming stop, in my mind. my back was on the curtain and i was facing aisles upon aisles of clothes and people passing by. she took my arm and we went to the counter. she was already dressed, i was unable to speak, but kept saying things like. "you're crazy, you know that?" and she'd just smile.

i was finishing my coffee. she was still toying with her fork. soon it would be dark. soon it would be sunday. soon we will get a ride.

"what do you think?" she repeated, sensing i was lost again.
"horny... devils..." i said. she laughed a bit.
"so what toenail color would you prefer?" she asked with slight smirk, changing the topic.
"i dunno... black..." i replied.
"that's what i have in mind."
"uhm. nice. kinky but nice..."

the laughter died on the walk towards where i stayed. we just had one thing in mind. it was boiling up the whole day. now it was reaching a calm. before the storm. a silent crescendo, as she puts it. we were whispering in the trains earlier. how i would pound her looking down like a warrior. she would just rub her face against my chin. my arm around her as the train rocked in its tracks. she would let out a soft moan when we kissed. we would stare at each other's eyes. faces devoid of anything but sin. lust. i held her waist as we rounded the corner. we didn't speak a word since we got out of the subway. i could feel electricity running from her body. our footsteps gathered pace. as if we were breaking into a half-run. i looked at her, steadying my gait. she was heaving as i was. small drops of rain started to fall. the clouds were gathering. for a downpour. i could hear the hissing of water hitting my skin. we made it to the canopy just before the rain started to fall. a few steps and a revolving door. we stormed across the lobby. eyes straight ahead. thinking back. the whole of today. of word play. of foreplay.

what was said. will be done. we both know.

who wants. to get fucked.