The Sleepover 5

The final chords faded away as the voices of the intimate crowd grew louder and more dispersed. Jason and his crew packed up his amps and guitars while taking the remaining swigs of warm beer. As I stood up to slip into my winter coat, I caught Caryn's eyes across the room. She acknowledged me with a nod, ready for me to approach her with the usual gossip and casual dialogue. Usually she was the one singing at these underground gigs. But tonight, she was only there for moral support of other up and comers. What would I have to say now that I had no reason to praise her performance?

I squeezed my way past the black clad waiters clearing leftover liquor glasses and burnt out candles. My path was blocked by a tall long-haired figure. He stood directly in the line between me and Caryn, but was completely oblivious to both of us. He was whispering into the ear of a slight blonde whose oversized chest moved in rhythm to her giggles. His hand rested on her back and slowly slid it's way down. It was Sam, shamelessly flirting with his new distraction who had replaced Caryn in his heart much too quickly for anyone's comfort. The new couple in their honeymoon stage headed for the doors, Sam's arm slung in a dominating position over the girl's dainty neck.

Nervous about being in the line of fire, I looked towards Caryn. She stood frozen for a moment, her jaw slightly parted, before she slung her striped canvas bag over her shoulder and haphazardly cleared her belongings from the table. Her movements were clumsy and jerky while she visibly tried to hold back tears. She knocked a glass onto the floor. Tears welled up in her cloudy brown eyes.

"Here." I retrieved the glass and handed it back to her, giving her as comforting a smile as I could muster up. Seeing her pain gave me empathy pains that I could barely suppress.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Did you see that? I mean, what was he..."

"I know." I said compassionately, my hand on her shoulder.

"Well, I guess I'mah gonna go with my heart all broken."

"You're so strong, Caryn. How do you do it?"

"I don't! I cry lots."

"Well, if you ever need someone to cry to...I'm around. I'll listen. I've got some doozies of my own to share if it'll help any."

"Aw, thanks girl."

"We should make a night of it. A male bashing, girl power night. Like a slumber party!"

"Ha, actually, that's a good idea. You bring the ice-cream, I got the tissues."

"What flavor?"

"Rocky Road."

I laughed. Oh, Caryn. How funny and open she was when vulnerable and lonely. The lights dimmed, signaling the closing of the bar and the end to our conversation. It was a nice thought at least. I started to turn and walk away.

"Hey, I'ma gonna head on home and put on my PJ's. There's a 24 hour market just around the corner. Actually, here's 5 bucks. Get something good and guilt-ridden and meet me in like, half an hour? Oh! 343, 10th and 2nd. 4C, buzz up."

I didn't argue that I was on my way to the station to catch a train home. I didn't mention that I had an early audition in the morning. I simply took the money, nodded, and proceeded to carry out her request.

A half hour later, I stood outside of the looming apartment with a grocery bag full of sour cream 'n' onion potato chips, Ben and Jerry's Rocky Road ice-cream, and a bag of essential chocolate chip cookies. My heart was beating as I went for the buzzer. We barely knew each other. How many details of her life and relationship was she willing to share with me? I wanted to know everything there was to know. And once I did, how would I ever sit there and try to keep "platonic" written all over my face? If this was my shot at friendship, I couldn't do anything to risk ruining it.

Bzzzzzzz.

"Who dat?" came the voice from the intercom.

"It's Ray."

"You got the goods?" she asked, as if it were a drug trade.

"Yep!"

"Come on up."

Upon reaching the fourth floor landing, I saw that her door with the brown chipped paint was slightly ajar. I walked into a cozy, lived-in room with adjoining kitchen. White Christmas lights lined the tops of the walls. Remnants of Sam were noticeably scattered throughout the area: guitar pics, a back pack, a button down shirt strewn over a desk chair. Nothing was extraordinary; I kept telling myself she really was just a normal person.

Caryn sat at the far end of the grey upholstered sofa, her knees folded to her chest. She was surrounded by dirty crumpled tissues, Cosmo and "Women Who Rock," magazines, and paper plates with the remains of a half eaten microwave dinner. She was tearing up while staring intently at the television which featured a "Friend's" rerun. She didn't notice my presence in the doorway. I knocked.

"Oh, hey!" she said, coming to life, trying to cover up the fact that she had been crying. I shut the door behind me and laid out "the goods" on the table.

"Oh mah gosh..." her eyes went wide. "Imagine all the happy, fat women there'd be without men."

"Who needs men when you have iiiccee-cream," I said, dangling the box in front of her eyes.

"I'll get the bowls." she stretched her legs and rummaged through the cabinets. She was actually going to eat this crap? I didn't think she ate at all.

Although I tried my best to be inconspicuous, I couldn't help but give her the once over while her back was turned to me. I knew I was here for her needs and not for my own self-serving ones, but this was a force more powerful than I was. Her feet were bare and her longs were long and lean and muscular. I suppose they appeared more muscular than they really were, for her skin stretched so thin over her thighs that nearly every tendon and ligament was made visible. She wore silver silk boxers which had probably belonged to Sam, and her signature black cropped "La Bruja" shirt which rested teasingly just below her breast plate. I was just about to gaze upon the patch of tattoo that hung belong her shirt and down her back, but she moved behind the counter, blocking my view. Still, I couldn't avert my eyes. As she reached above her head to grab the bowls, her t-shirt rode up her back, revealing the black winged creature that I know took hours of needle endurance. I wondered if it felt smooth and leathery to the touch. I wondered what it looked like in its entirety.

My wonderment was interrupted when she bounded back to the couch and dropped the bowls and spoons onto the wooden coffee table.

"Dig in!" she said, waiting for me to be the first to break the mold. I destroyed the circular mounds and plopped them into the ceramic bowl. I waited for her to do the same.

"Oh, I like to wait until it gets soupy."

"Ah, I see. Less chance of a brain freeze that way?"

"Sam usta make the funniest faces when he had a brain freeze. He wuz such a baby. He'd press his hands up to his forehead and make dis 'sssss' sound like a coffee machine, and then he'd...."

She stopped talking. A moment ago she was fine, and now she was breaking down at the memory of this man she had spent nearly two years of her life with. I handed her one of the nearby crumpled tissues.

"Thanks. I'm sorry, I hate when people see me like this. I'm such a disgusting mess."

"No...you're fine." Fine? Fine?? The girl was gorgeous and chiseled and emanating rays of light, even in her current state with her red, puffy eyes and runny porcelain nose.

We sat in silence for a moment, the sound of her sniffles accompanying the canned laughter on the tv screen. While devouring my first taste of ice-cream, I glanced over at her. One of her feet rested on the ground, twitching, while the other curled underneath her. Her arms were crossed over her concave stomach which looked to be begging for sweets. I handed her a cookie.

"So what happened??"

She refused the offer with a wave of her hand and lowered both feet to the ground in preparation to tell her story.

"It's like, I just thought he was the one, ya know? I got his sign tattooed to mah ankle."

I noticed for the first time the scorpion that seemed to be crawling up the side of her leg.

"But ah made all the sacrifices. Ah came home from Europe to support him. Ah didn't even have a job to come home to or nothin'. But we were always together and that made it alright. We did everythin' together. Then he goes and gets cast in some new crap and next thing I know, he's accusin' me of fooling around!"

"Were you?"

"I was jus' flirtin' with this new guy. But he had a girlfriend! And I wasn't interested. It was just like..."

"Cast initiation?"

"Exactly! So two days after the holidays he says he doesn't see any long term for us 'cuz he can't trust me now that he's not around to keep an eye on me."

"That was his reason?"

"Yeah, he said he wuz tired of watching his back. An', oh yeah, he said I was so busy with my show and my music that ah never had any time for him. It's just shit."

"He was just insecure because he knew he wasn't good enough for you!"

"Naw, he jus' went and found someone else is all. But he's a man so he couldn't jus' say that. I'm off in France, avoiding temptation from my ex-fiancee who is around all da time, and he goes for the first girl who looks at him. I don't know."

"The blonde?"

"Yeah, the 16 year old goody two shoes with the bad tan and the bodacious ta-tas."

She looked down at her own A cups with disappointment and shame.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'll bet she just lays there and makes him do all the work. I mean, maybe he'll feel like more of a man for a little while, but he's gonna get real bored real fast, and come crawling back to you!"

Awkward silence.

"I can't believe I just said that...ignore me. I'm just trying to help."

Suddenly, Caryn burst out laughing. "Haha! Girl, you are TOO funny!"

"Well, at least I made you laugh."

"You did. It's been a while. Ah've been all...mopey."

I tried to feed her another cookie as the Friends credits rolled by. She again refused and began channel flipping. She stopped at "The L-Word."

"You watch this??" I said, startled.

"Oh yeah, one of Sam's favs. He kinda got me hooked."

"Yeah, its great, no men!"

"Sometimes I think life would just be easier that way. Men hurt, Ray. They hurt. Ah mean, Ah gave him everythin.' Ah just keep thinkin', what could Ah have done differently, what's wrong with me?"

"Stop it. You are the strongest, most talented, most creative, most beautiful woman I know. There is NOTHING wrong with you. Dammit, I wanna BE you."

"Ohhh, no yoo don't!"

"Don't I? Yes, what a burden it must be to be gorgeous and skinny and innovative and..."

"Skinny? Aw, thanks."

I chucked a pillow at her frail body.

"Oh, shhh, shhh, this is one of them good scenes!"

I sat biting my tongue as we watched the girls seduce each other on camera, turning our heads to decipher the positions that were caught at odd angles.

"Now, how does that work...exactly?" I asked. "How do you decide who does what?"

"I guess you take turns? The work gets divided up pretty evenly though. Well! At least someone's having a good time."

"I guess it's rough when you can have it whenever you want it and suddenly you're in a dry spell...whoa! Check out the tattoo on her!" A large thorny rose on one of the actress' shoulder blades flashed across the camera.

"I love 'em! I still can't believe I actually went through with mine though." I unzipped my jeans and pulled them slightly downwards, once again exposing the phrase that sprawled from my hip to my bellybutton.

"That really is beautiful. Have you seen mine?"

"How can you miss it?" I asked, pointing to the blackened dragon on her thigh.

"No, no, check this out." She said, as she bent over and lifted the back of her shirt up to her neck. I gasped. The creature with the gigantic scaled wingspan was impressive, but her back was even more of a conversation piece. Each rib and spinal disc was clearly defined and protruded through her pale, taut skin. I gently ran my fingers over her tattoo, scared that my touch might rip right through her body to the other side. I shivered. She shuddered.

"That tickles! Ah am so ticklish, it's ridiculous." she squirmed while replacing the little bit of shirt she had. "Man, Sammy used to roll over at night in bed and just trace the wings back 'n' forth. Kinda helped me get to sleep." She frowned and lazily slid closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

Instinctively, I brushed some black strands of her out of her face and placed them behind her ears. Then, in accordance with her fond memory, I brought my finger to her back and traced the shape of wings outside of her t-shirt. She sat in silence, her eyes fixated on the tv screen which displayed two women heavily engaged in foreplay, in warm orange lighting. I kissed the top of her head to comfort her. She smelled of incense and smokey stage lights. I nuzzled my nose against her ear, fully taking in her unique scent. My hand never lost contact with the shapes I was etching on her skeletal back. I slid my hand up the back of her shirt, only to do as Sam had always done. I closed my thumb and forefinger lightly around her spine, and squeezed it in a pulsing motion down its length to her lower back. I softly planted a single affectionate kiss at the base of her neck. Still no reaction. I slid my hand across the back of her silken boxers until it rested on the top of her thigh. Still nothing. No signal to stop, no signal to go any further. I smoothed over the creases of the silver shorts, tugging gently at them. Perhaps she was just too absorbed in the tv to notice. Perhaps she was stunned and didn't know what to say. Or perhaps...she wanted me to keep going.

I kissed her neck again, this time harder and in quicker successions. Her head arched to the side to give me more playing space. My hands were shaking, but I was still able to trace her outer earlobe around and around in circles. I kissed alongside her jaw and I kissed her prominent collarbone, starting on the outside and working my way in. I kissed underneath her chin and I kissed her cheek and I kissed her dimple. A single quick breath escaped her as she craned her neck to pull back and look at me. Our eyes met for a brief moment: Mine hungry and afraid and consoling, hers lost and lonely and anticipating. All time stood still and our entire relationship flashed before my eyes in that single moment: Freezing nights waiting for her at stagedoors, brief congratulatory hugs, CD signings, and nights I would just stare at her from afar without working up the courage to say hello. And I kissed her.

I kissed her hard on the mouth; that wide bloated mouth that spread from ear to ear with a grin or a pout, that could put my world right or turn it upside down with little effort. She kissed me back, her lips soft and moist, parting in sweet, continuous waves. It was so gentle and innocent at first; merely a test before things got out of hand. But it grew in passion and intensity. I wrapped a hand around the back of her head, running my fingers through her fried black locks that shone blue under the White lights. Her face pressed more firmly to mine, her abandoned tongue searching for a new place to settle. The harder we kissed, the more she started to employ her teeth. She nibbled at my bottom lip, tugging at it gently and unexpectedly.

There was no turning back now. Lost in our lip lock, I slide my hand up her creamy trembling thigh, up underneath the loose silken fabric, up faster and faster until I reached her cotton panties. Her legs parted slightly wider and she sunk lower into the couch. Not a word was spoken as I pushed her panties aside with one finger, and rubbed my index finger back and forth over her moistening clit.

While I pleasured her gently, I moved in closer and closer, forcing her to lay herself down on the couch. Sprawled on her back, her ribs were exposed even more visibly and I could see clearly the rise and fall of her abs with every hard, panting breath. I loomed over her, the ends of my hair falling onto her bare skin. I didn't dare move any closer. With my finger still circling the outside of her tender pussy, I just wanted to look at her. It was finally okay. I didn't have to try to hide the fact that I was staring. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I stared deep into her sad eyes and she back into mine. I hoped she couldn't read everything that I was thinking. Let her believe that this was a fluke occurrence between two almost friends who got carried away, and not the epitome of the way I desired to confess my long-contained feelings for her.

I sat upright, my ears alert to the sound of her increasing wetness beneath my fingertips. I stared at her black mane spread out behind her; her relaxed thick pout; the slope of her sunken cheekbones; her jutting chin; the curve of her tiny neck; her shirt fabric that was so thin, I could see her heart pounding beneath it. I watched my hand tremble as I reached for her shirt. It was as if I wasn't controlling my own movements; I just instinctively knew where to go. I slowly slid her piece of shirt up over her tiny tits, exposing the mounds of flesh that lay beneath the fabric. I was too overwhelmed to touch them. I stared some more at her chest which seemed to be made more of muscle than the usual feminine fat. I was so overcome with the beauty and emotion of the moment that I couldn't help but leave her burning clit to slide myself deep into her dark, forbidden pussy. Caryn gasped and I watched her body writhe and squirm. She grabbed onto the arm of the couch, thrusting her hips up and down into the air. Would this be a good time to tell her I loved her?

"Yeah, you like that?" Was all I could manage to say.

She didn't answer. Instead, she threw her arms around my neck, just like I had seen her do on stage with Kayla, her costar, and forcefully pulled me down to her lips. I kissed her and kissed her and kissed her and she kissed me back.

"I want you." I whispered into her ear while tracing the raise of her rose colored nipple.

"You want me, girl? You wanna fuck me?"

"I want you so bad, Caryn."

"Tell me agin." she said, sticking her fingers in my mouth and running them wet and dripping down my body, down to the top of my jeans.

"I want you. I want you, I WANT you, I WANT YOU NOW!!" I screamed louder and louder. She loved being wanted, being needed. I spread my knees on either side of her skeletal frame, careful not to squeeze too hard for fear of crushing her. Still thrusting beneath me, she undid my button and slid her hand down into the denim which was sticking to my body from the sweat I had worked up while pleasuring her. She swiftly found her way inside my panties, and lost not a second before sliding her long index finger up inside of me. In that moment, we had become one being. Our fingers moved in unison, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. I wanted more. I wanted to please her like no one ever had before, and make her mine forever.

I eyed a thick hairbrush lying on the wooden table beside the couch. I grabbed it and within seconds, before she even had a chance to register what I was doing, I rammed the back end into her soaking pussy. At least 5 inches of cool black plastic was wedged within the folds of her most sensitive place. With my free hand, I fondled her clit which was now standing at attention. The combination of the brush handle and the clittoral stimulation was too much. The couch creaked and groaned as she threw herself from side to side, grabbing onto anything she could find. She dug her fingernails into the tender skin of my arm. It was a sweet and welcome pain. She fingered me even more wildly, surprising me by sliding a second and then a third finger up in between my shaking thighs. I was at her mercy. I laid on my stomach lined up with her body, my eyes to her eyes, my mouth to her ear.