Wednesday, April 2, 2008

She Came on the Bus

She Came on the Bus

Mykola Dementiuk

After a week of moronic working downtown -- though my wages were bi-weekly and I still hadn’t been paid -- it was always a thrill and delight to head up to 42nd street where some of the frustration from the week could be worn off. Coming up from the subway I’d feel a tightening in my belly as the stiffness and hardness grew in my jeans because I never knew who would touch or kiss or suck me and then disappear into the night…

I loved rising up from the subway and seeing the feast of flickering lights that hung over each theater and the provocative names luring viewers into better times within…The Filthy Five, Promiscuous Sex, Sex With a Stranger and others. But week after week, when I got out of the subway, disappointment again surged across my face. From the Bryant Theater was suspended the now-repetitive week-after-week marquee She Came on the Bus, a black and white oldie that I used to love, but once again I was pissed…it was a repeat that by now was going nowhere at all….Those usual soft core films the Bryant showed seemed to add an allure that other movie houses didn’t seem to have. I liked the soft-core-ness of the Bryant; because intimate closeness of screwing, a cock pounding in and out of a vagina just didn’t do it for me. Give me some distance; show me her whole body, dressed in nylons and garters and slowly disrobing to arousal in ecstasy, in bliss, so I could jerk-off in peace or a hot frenzy…which I’ve done countless times at the Bryant….

But week after week the same repetitions were destroying my hunger for them. I had seen the film countless times, spending hours in that theater, and I felt reluctant of offering any more money into the greedy pockets of some cigar-smoking owner/gangster….

I sulked and walked up and down 42nd street, past the Globe Theatre on Broadway, the Lyric, the Times Square and other houses then crossed the street and continued my walking on the other side, past New Amsterdam and Empire among others, gazing into girlie stores, peep shows and the eventual hamburger joints until I came back to the street where the Bryant stood. Angrily I thought I’d go back and start my procession all over again when out of the corner of my eye I saw something pink was swaying the Bryant.

My God, a girl! I thought, frozen in my tracks. And going to see a soft core flick!

I hurried up the street; impatiently waited for my penny change from the teller-- why do they do these things? I wondered, charge a buck 99 when 2 bucks would be easier to take? I had no idea -- but still gazing after the tight pants pink girl as she walked up the long mirrored walkway and disappeared into the theater.

Finally, the teller buzzed me in and I pounced into the theater. I love the hazy smoky darkness of movie houses because never mind what’s was going on the screen the activity was right here in the theatre aisles! But the pink girl had quickly faded into a seat somewhere….

I walked down the murky aisle, passing the back rows crowded with men, and in the middle rows her pinkness stood out from the darkness around her….But already a man was sitting next to her!

My God, that was fast!

I instantly took a seat in a row behind them and set my coat over my lap. On the screen, thrill seekers invade a house of a suburban housewife and inject her with drugs then rape her. They go off and steal a bus and pick up two good-looking women who are on their way into the city for clothes shopping. One woman is terrified while the other submits to the kidnapper while trying to get an upper hand over him. Not much skin but decent breast exposure which I liked in those days. I’ve sat through that film over 50 times and still think it's moronic garbage but one that always eventually gets me in as it did this time.

I’ve seen the film dozens of times, coming in the middle, coming near the end, which was the style in those days before they made everyone patient and orderly as they waited in some lobby to get into and see a movie. Well, not in those days, nosiree….

I moved my jacket over me and proceeded to rub myself. The soft-core action wasn’t arousing me it was the man next to the pink girl before me. Her topless shoulder was seemingly jerking up and down and it was clear what she was doing, giving the guy a hand-job, when he cringed and bent forwards and I heard a high-pitched groan and sigh as he collapsed in his seat.

What a great feeling to know I was beating my own cock as the pink dream was beating his. I spasmed at the same time as he did it too; our two yelps sounded very provocative that the girl even turned to look at me, Oh my God, she’s a man dressed as a girl! But what did I expect, I thought, grinning at her as she leered and turned her back on me. Her cumming fellow had suddenly gotten very embarrassed and stood up and disappeared back up the aisle.

I smirked; the boring film was about over, the characters promising that the wheels of sex would take them to their desire. And I almost yawned when another man walked right into the seat next to her. I giggled; this was even better than watching a dull sex movie, which it was, and it soon ended but began to roll again.

I could take another beating-off, I suspected, but I stood up and went to the men’s room. Pinky, the dream queen, will still be here when I got back, I knew; but if she wasn’t, well, I had no money to spend on her anyway, that’s why jerking-off had to suffice…next week I would….

The bus rolled into view on the screen. I laughed and headed to the bathroom. Strangely I was very happy and peaceful….

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love your little scenes. You've become such a good writer! Must be your teachers! lol Sally