Girlfriends

 

Girlfriends

by Mick Mykola Dementiuk

published in 100 Whores 

Synergy Press 2010

The rear exit door of the Bryant porno theater had been left ajar by someone sneaking out the back way. The two girls walking down the street stopped and eyed each other, and without a word pushed the door open. They squinted into the dimly lit vestibule, then darted into the theater, carelessly letting the heavy steel door slam shut behind them.

 

They hesitated in the long hall, glancing and blaming each other for not holding the slamming door, but when they were certain the noise had not attracted anyone’s interest to come and investigate, they inched along the corridor wall toward the flickering light at the end of the hallway, squinting into the smoke-hazed theater.

 

Suddenly they jerked back into the shadows as above them and to their left a loud female movie voice panted, Don’t stop! Don’t stop! The girls realized they had entered the theater from the front of the auditorium just behind the movie screen, where they would be visible to the few muted figures in the scattered front seats when they stepped out of the hall and moved into the movie light. Once more the female voice panted, Don’t stop! and the girls slinked even further back and looked nervously at each other.

 

They were young, not more than fifteen or sixteen, but each was adorned in that impatient little-girl quest to appear much older: buoyant puffed-up hair, pasty makeup with thick bright lipstick, dark eye-shadow and pungent perfume, strings of pearls and chains around their necks, dangling earrings at the sides of their faces and bracelets laden on wrists.

 

They wore tight blouses that blew up the curvature of their breasts, the varicolored stripes winding into a sibilant puff at the sides and beneath their bosoms. The taller and heavier girl, a blonde, also had a loose open sweater which partially concealed her large breasts, though her small friend doubted the large breasts were really that big since she had seen them look large, the next day look small, and the next day large once more. 

 

They both wore short skirts — the big blonde in a tight black checkered one, her friend in a loose wide-pleated red one, each circled at the waist by a shiny wide-buckled imitation-leather belt — which showed off their knees and legs in dark nylon hose, draped in mysterious limp weaving wrinkles around their calves and shanks.

 

Don’t pull the garters up so tight, the blonde had advised her small friend in the bathroom at school, once they decided to cut their remaining classes and remove their distinctive schoolgirl knee-high white socks. That way it’ll look like someone just played with your legs, she explained. It drives guys crazy.

 

The small girl blushed as if she should have known that, but reached under her skirt and adjusted the metal clasps to loosen the rubber straps holding the taut nylons around her thighs. The blonde nodded her head, watching the black hose ease and sag around her friend’s legs.

 

Since school started, months earlier, the two girls had become inseparable. Though the blonde was in her second year at high-school, her small friend had only entered the freshman class. The two first spotted and singled each other out with that instant glimmer of satisfied recognition and approval of the others’ personality, features, and traits, as if recognizing herself in the other: pairing together in remedial Math and English classes and jousting the teacher with snide remarks and questions; sharing a quick over-puffed cigarette and the latest gossip and complaints in the girls room during class breaks; exchanging bracelets, sweaters, and tips on makeup and making the bosom look so much bigger and rounder (she should know, the small girl always thought to herself); and spending inordinate time on the phone together, talking of boys in the neighborhood (a bunch of creeps), of girls in class (nothing but sluts), and ending their long conversation with an agreement of what to wear, where to go, and where to meet within an hour of saying Goodbye! or See you!

 

Of course this intense, accelerated friendship and need to be together made school and other acquaintances all that much more unbearable and boring. The girls began to cut class more and more to prowl the midtown streets, sit on park benches and show off their legs, wander through stores and steal some makeup or a bra (large-sized for the blonde, petite for her friend), eventually straying from school and spending so much time together they lost contact with the other students, who by that time did not even notice or care about their absence.

 

Do you want to go in? the blonde whispered to her friend, reaching into her sweater and tugging at a bra-strap under her blouse.

 

They were pressed against the corridor wall, hesitant, indecisive, listening to the panting movie voice. The blonde glanced toward the dark-hazed auditorium, while her small friend peered down the hallway toward the steel exit door and the safety of the street.

 

Do you? The small girl turned to her friend and grimaced, lifting her hand to her mouth and pushing her thumb against her lower lip, nibbling on a moist flake of lipstick.

 

The blonde stared back at the auditorium and again tugged her bra-strap, turning to the small girl and nodding. There’s empty seats in front, she whispered, taking a deep breath and pulling back her shoulders, suddenly grabbing her friend’s wrist. Let’s go! She jerked the small girl toward the corridor opening.

 

The small girl stumbled in surprise, cursed, but then regained her balance and trotted after her friend. With their arms extended, their bracelets jingling, they stepped out of the shadows and into the glaring movie-lit front of the auditorium.

 

Oh, God! the female voice screamed above them, as the small girl squinted and rushed at the vacant front row seats, but the blonde sped on and pulled her past the seats, turning up the aisle and tugging her toward the rear of the theater. 

 

The small girl tried to hold back but reluctantly followed. She saw torsos sit up and heads jerk atop shoulders. As she glanced down at the dark carpeted aisle, she was suddenly aware of her breasts in her blouse, of her legs in her hose, of her pussy in her panties, of her body as separate and removed from her clothes. She could feel eyes glinting and following in the gray light, her flesh observed, studied, scrutinized, and measured.

 

She suddenly knew her body as distinct, unique, and different, the sole purpose and longing of the figures scattered in the seats — a female body, enticing and desirous, to be admired, displayed, preened, probed and explored, touched, kissed, licked and fucked.

 

She heard the movie voice, Oh God, more! and she bolted as if propelled from the rear. She caught up to the blonde and freed her wrist but allowed her friend’s cold tense fingers to slide and entwine in her own and click with her rings as they walked evenly up the aisle and past the crowded last rows of the porno movie house.

 

They paused in the rear lobby, looked at each other, and sighed in relief, certain of having accomplished a critical successful task together. They smiled and giggled and looked about the dimly lit lobby still clutching and holding each other’s sweaty hands.

 

The front of the theatre was sparsely filled, but those there were leering avidly at the movie. Observing the vacant seats around them, the girls were surprised by the dense crowd at the back; men crammed into occupied adjacent seats, pacing and pausing in congested rear aisles, lingering next to each other and peering over a glass partition above the back row, milling at the foot of a steep metal-railed stairway leading to the upper lobby.

 

Let’s find the ladies room, said the blonde girl. Warily she peered out an open door at the long mirrored walkway toward a small ticket-booth at the front of the porno theater. A fat black woman sat in the booth and stared languidly at the passing cars and pedestrians on the street before her. 

 

The blonde, spotting an orange-lit Rest Room sign, squeezed the small girl’s hand and pulled her friend toward the cramped narrow stairway. A man stood at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at the girls, then snorted and moved his foot off the first step, letting the girls pass. They scurried up the stairs, one after the other, their bracelets clinking and clapping, the blonde holding her arm across her large breasts, the small girl glancing back at the man. He had ignored the opportunity to peep under her loose skirt, and he placed his foot back on the steps, rubbing his crotch as another man stood gaping nearby and inching toward him. The small girl grimaced and sprinted after her friend.

 

They hurried past more men lingering near an open men’s room doorway. Frowning at the shut door of the ladies’ room at the far end of the small upstairs lounge, they brightened when the door gave way, and they entered the seemingly secure and segregated room. Suddenly they were startled by grunting sex sounds from a toilet stall in the cramped paper-towel strewn room — as if mimicking and extending the tease of the fake, desperate movie sex in the theater below — and they saw a red-faced balding man in a door-less stall peering into the noisy stall over the dividing partition, his head bobbing.

 

They paused in the restroom doorway, wary, uncertain, once more holding hands. The balding man eagerly turned from the partition and faced the two girls. The small girl pulled slightly back, but the blonde held her hand and glared at the man holding his cock out to the girls. Suddenly meek and awkwardly embarrassed, the man blushed and turned away, pushing his cock into his pants — though leaving the zipper down — and stepped out of the stall. The grunting in the other cubicle continued unabated.

 

The man looked at the girls, then slinked along the white-tiled wall away from the stalls as the blonde girl let go of the door and pulled her small friend into the bathroom, circling along the opposite wall from the man.

 

Are you lezzies? the man suddenly asked, his face red, his nose and upper lip beaded in sweat.   

 

That’s right! the blonde girl flared. She puffed out her breasts and stepped toward the cowering man. Now get outta here!

 

He remained pressed to the wall, his red face gleaming, his hands over his stomach and atop his open zipper, as if primed to reach into the swelled flaps and pull out his cock once more.

 

I’ll give you money, he panted, and stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled ten dollar bill. Just let me watch what you do, okay?

 

The blonde girl began to laugh as the cowering man winced and blushed even more, lowering his head but looking back stealthily at the noisy stall. A sudden series of grunts and gasps broke from the occupied stall, and the small girl squeezed the blonde’s hand, trying to pull her away. The man glanced at them, then he scurried back to the empty stall, peering over the dividing wall, his eyes wide and beaming, his mouth pursed and sucking in air, his cock out of his pants and back in his hand, pumping against the graffiti-covered stall partition.

 

Let’s get out of here, the small girl said, and again pulled her friend’s hand, but the blonde held back, staring at the shut stall door. There was a desperate quick movement and shuffling about in the noisy stall as a pair of black-nyloned legs and a woman’s red pointy-toed shoes, one shoe tilted off the heel and splayed from the toes, knelt on the tiled floor and protruded beneath the stall door. The man in the other stall continued to peer over the wall, licking his lips and masturbating furiously.

 

If you don’t come with me, the small girl threatened, trying to free her hand from the blonde’s clasp, I’ll leave without you.

 

So leave, said the blonde, and threw off the small girl’s fingers. She moved to the shut stall door, reaching into her sweater and once more tugging a bra shoulder strap. 

 

The small girl winced, hesitant and uncertain of what to do, her freed hand hovering limply from her wrist, still pulsing with the others’ light touch and clasp, her made-up exaggerated adult appearance waning and flickering atop the overpowering little-girl sadness, confusion, and hurt. She looked at the blonde moving closer to the noisy stall and she felt rejection, betrayal, dismissal. Her eyes watered and her mouth quivered.

 

Again she felt that oddity of her breasts and legs and body as something separate from her being, as something not a part of her but an object to be donned and dressed and made-up in a tease and enticement, to be adorned not as a pleasant enhancement of little-girl features, but as a display of allurement and procurement — a show-off exhibit. No eyes were on her, no thoughts undressed her, no hands lusted after her, and she stood alone and looked at her friend moving around the splayed legs on the floor, and she looked at the man still stroking his cock in the stall. She moved her hands up her chest, squeezed her breasts, and shivered.

 

The orgasm was instantaneous. She blinked and saw the man smiling. He turned away from the partition and she looked at his cock. Lowering one hand off her breast, she lifted her skirt and inserted her fingers into her panties; the wetness of her orgasm seared the still-warm memory of the blonde’s fingers in her hand.

 

The man quickly stepped out of his stall, startling the blonde peering over the door into the noisy stall. She warily looked at him and took a step back, then turned and gasped at her friend, What are you doing?

 

The small girl continued squeezing her breast and rubbing her crotch and watching the man jerk off as he moved closer to her.

 

Show him your tits, the small girl said to the blonde. Go ahead, show him!

 

The balding man was stooped between the girls but held onto his dick. He looked at the blonde, opening his other hand and offering her the crumpled and soiled ten-dollar bill. 

 

What? said the blonde, looking at her friend in disbelief. I’m not fucking sick! Show him your own tits!

 

The man winced, and looked at the small girl for encouragement. The girl squeezed her breast and darted her tongue out of the side of her mouth. The man, emboldened and heartened, turned back to the glaring blonde.

 

No, no, it’s okay, he stuttered. It’s okay, and extended his hand with the money out to the blonde. He hesitated, darting his eyes from girl to girl, then said to the blonde, Just let me watch you pee, okay? Please pee!

 

Huh? the girl grunted, and glared at his shiny red face, glancing slyly at the money he held. You’re sick! she snorted, then suddenly took a step toward him, snatched the bill from his palm, and darted beside her friend.

 

Let’s go, she hissed, glancing nervously at the man, at the money in her hand, and back at her friend.

 

The small girl remained still, staring at the man as she slowly pulled her hand from her panties, though keeping the front of her skirt lifted to her waist. She studied her wet hand and looked at the blonde.

 

He paid you to pee, she said quietly.

 

The blonde jerked her head back and snorted, You crazy or what?

 

The small girl moved toward her, looking at her face, then at her big breasts. Suddenly she grabbed the money out of the blonde’s hand and walked to the red-faced balding man.

 

Then I’ll pee, she said to him, and entered the vacant stall.

 

In the other cubicle the nyloned legs struggled to rise from the floor when a rough voice grunted, Hey, I didn’t come yet, and the black legs and knees fell back to the bathroom floor. 

 

The small girl lowered her panties and sat on the toilet seat. The man circled the blonde, stooped down to the floor, and crouched before the small girl in the stall, though making no move to touch her. She opened her legs and began to pee.

 

A brisk sprinkling hiss simmered up from her thighs as a strange sweaty man’s head appeared over the partition from the occupied stall and looked down at the small peeing girl. Just keep sucking, the head turned and said to the kneeling legs in his stall, then leered at the blonde girl standing alone in the center of the bathroom.

 

The small girl glanced up at the strange head and looked out at her friend. The blonde stood with her arms and sweater wrapped across her chest as the small girl stared at the bloated woolen bosom and again wondered how big her friend’s breasts actually were. She squeezed her own, slowly pulling up the front of her striped blouse and hoisting it over her breasts, dipping her thumb into the elastic strip between the bra-cups and jerking it up, freeing her firm round breasts.

 

The blonde gasped and looked at the exposed breasts, then up at the head by the partition, the man on the floor, the glimmer of red shoes. Meekly she took a step toward her half-naked girlfriend.

 

The man on the floor quickly crawled out of the way as the blonde stood in the open stall door-frame, watching her small friend squeeze her breasts and pee into the bowl. She awkwardly smiled, then moved into the stall and reached out to gently stroke back some loose hairs falling over the small girl’s eyes. She skipped her fingers down the girl’s face and dabbed at some smeared lipstick at the side of her mouth.

 

The small girl strained and shot out a few more spurts of pee, then began sucking on the blonde’s fingertips, darting her tongue between the ringed fingers and lapping at the girl’s rough dry palm. The blonde moved her hand lower and gently stroked the girl’s moist neck and tangled chains. She hesitated, studying her friend’s longing eyes, then inched her hand lower and felt the top of the girl’s crumpled blouse, tenderly touching the empty but still warm satin bra draped above the breasts and under the blouse.

 

The small girl shivered and clamped her thighs, gasping slightly as the blonde looked down at her friend’s halfshut eyes, her twitching lips, her stiff nipples. She quickly moved her fingers past the crushed bra, cupped her small friend’s tight round breast in her palm, and squeezed gently.

 

The man ejaculated and doubled over to the tiles. The small girl groaned and parted her legs, reaching around the blonde’s waist and pulling her lower. She opened the girl’s thick sweater, tugging the bottom of the clinging blouse out of her belt and skirt, and wriggled her fingers under the blouse and up the blonde’s belly to her large bosom.

 

The head by the partition grunted and sank down. The small girl pushed her fingers over the blonde’s large bra-cup and tweaked the top of the bulky soft tit. The blonde shivered and clasped the small girl’s wrist and plunged her fingers into the bra.

 

In the next stall the red shoes and black legs finally pushed themselves up off the floor and a manly gruff voice erupted, Look at my fuckin’ knees! Just look! My nylons are all ripped!

 

The two girls looked at each other. The blonde shrugged and shook her head as the small girl smiled and pushed her hand deeper into the bra-cup and circled the blonde’s large tit. The breast was real! The small girl blushed and smiled nervously as the blonde tugged down the large bra-cup under her fat breast. The small girl gasped and continued to squeeze the succulent tit, staring at the hard brown nipple pulsing in the crook of her finger. She opened her mouth and craned her neck up as the blonde stooped over and dipped the drooping, weaving breast into the small girl’s upturned face. The man on the floor gaped under the bent-over blonde’s skirt and tugged on his flaccid wet cock.

 

But I’ll buy you a new pair! a voice in the other stall cried, and was silenced by a slap.

 

The small girl opened her legs and pulled her blonde friend atop her; the large breast smothered her face and she felt her friend’s hand move in between her legs. The small girl gently sucked on the large fat tit and groaned as her friend’s fingers pushed into her cunt.

 

Please, no! a voice in the other stall sobbed.

 

I sucked yours, now you suck mine! the other voice laughed in reply.

 

That’s it, the laughing voice over the partition said. Just watch the teeth, okay?

 

The man on the floor had grown hard and was once more masturbating, his eyes jumping from the girls clasping each other in one stall to the nyloned legs now standing up in the other; a pair of pant legs knelt before the nylons. The sound of sucking echoed from stall to stall. §