I saw Olena today on Broadway. I was going to the pool hall on 23rd when I noticed her across the avenue.
Was this too far to approach her, I thought, or was I conditioned to play her game of not knowing who I was?
I shrugged, and was about to cross the avenue when a guy standing by her said something and offered her a cigarette. I crouched with lowered head but kept my eye on them. The guy was doing most of the talking as he lit her cigarette -- but I saw she had turned red and was looking away from him…that could only mean one thing…
The light changed; I saw she was looking right in my direction. What would happen now?
I slowly began to cross the street, hesitant, afraid, when I saw her smiling at me. I breathed a sigh of relief; glad she knew me no matter that this wasn’t downtown anymore…
I came up to her; she leaned over, flicking away her newly lit cigarette, and let me kiss her cheek; she squeezed my hand.
I saw the guy look at her, his lips tightening as he stared at the wasted cigarette and just keep walking.
I was very happy that she recognized me…we were just a few blocks away from where her strange game would actually begin…I breathed a sigh of relief…
Janet was a pretty girl who had the ungainly name that could get her in trouble in those years:
Have you got a hardon? Not yet.
Are you gonna get one? You bet!
Who you gonna stick in? Janet.
How’s it gonna come out? All wet.
Sung by the whore house…Quartet…
We would laugh at her as Janet would fume and curse and spit out, “Idiot! Idiot!”
I was in the 8th grade and lusting after every girl in school and out of it. Janet was in another school but this was NYC and even in a building where they lived kids went to school in
opposite directions. Sometimes I saw her come out of her building and head up 2nd Avenue -- I always lusted after her, and I had the notion that she was doing the same.
One morning after jerking off, I walked past her building a little earlier, thinking I’d get her because she was ripe for sticking it in, or so the song did say…I kind of was sure she was the one who had inspired the song…
I entered the lobby -- the building was still sleeping, stretching out as if getting ready to go to work.What to do now? I thought.She has to come down the stairs and there I’d be, looking up her dress with my dick out ready for her mouth to gulp it down.God! Was I hard just thinking about that moment…I pulled my dick out.
Then I heard footsteps, high heeled ones I was sure, maybe with just a toe hold on each little shoe.Oh God, I slowly pulled my dick out and held it before me ready for her to descend the stairs….
A guy appeared at the top of the stairs and I heard him say, “What the fuck?!”
I was out of that building, running down the street as I was zippering up and trying to hold my school bag with the other hand.In no time was I on another street and spent the rest of the school day real pissed at my rotten luck….
I saw Janet a few days after that…I mouthed the song and laughed as she glared at me and disappeared down the street…
Sonia was a fat girl whom everyone made fun off, how she dressed, how she walked, how she ran….
I don’t know how she got me hard but the possibility she could be the one made me gentler in my approach to her. I stopped laughing at her and actually began to be somewhat defensive when the guys started taunting her, which of course turned the laughter onto me.
“Hey Kolya”, they’d taunt, “Your girl friend is looking for you!” as their smirking and hooting began to make me feel embarrassed and mad at them.
“Fuck you!” I’d spit out defensively to get away from their insults, which I’m certain Sonia was seeing too.
One day, after the usual name calling I was getting from my so-called friends, I turned the corner on Avenue A and there was Sonia standing in a doorway of a building and looking at me; I knew it wasn’t her home -- she lived a few more blocks by the river -- and I turned red from seeing her.
“What’s your game, mister?” she said, frowning at me. “Why are you so nice?”
I suppose after all these weeks I answered, “I don’t know, I guess I like you.” And again I blushed and felt very uncomfortable.
Her glaring face lightened and she faintly smiled at me. And for a moment we liked each other and I smiled back…when I saw her eyes look over my head and again she frowned.
“Idiot jerk!” she spat out. “Get away from me! Stop following me!”
I heard laughter and spun around to see a few of my old friends laughing.
“Hey, Kolya, you like fatsos, don’t you?” they’d laugh. “Let’s see if she can lay down next to you? Hell, she can’t even stand up!”
But by then Sonia had stormed off as the laughter echoed after her but I wonder if for a moment before they appeared Sonia wouldn’t take a chance and get friendly with me…aw, hell I’ll never know….
Kateryna was another of my jerk-off dreams that I spent many nights in bed with…if only I had the courage I would confront her and demand she tell me why she left me, but that’s why I always looked the other way when I saw her walking up the street. She had graduated a year before me and was in high school and was engaged to be married once her boy friend fulfilled his military duties. A few times she already seemed like a widow, just pining for her lost love while I was still in just the 8th grade…until, one day, Bohdan called her khyrva.
“Kateryna khyrva!” Kateryna whore, he spat out when we saw. I turned around to look at her in her tight blouse that perked up her pointed breasts as her short skirt swayed above the tops of her nylons straining to inch from the bottom of her skirt. I grimaced; I wanted to hurry home and jerk off…
“How would you know that she’s a khyrva?” I angrily asked.
Bohdan snorted and shook his head. “I guess you don’t know, do you?”
I shook my head. “Know what?”
He looked at me. “The whore keeps it a secret,” he again snorted. “Warns guys they got to keep it quiet or her Marine boyfriend will find out and beat them up.” We looked at each other. “She had a few guys from her class but it got to dangerous for her so she tried us younger guys, and I was the first to lose.”
I turned red but didn’t say a thing. “What did you lose?” I asked sadly.
We reached the corner where we were to part. “My self respect,” said Bohdan, and continued walking up 2nd Avenue.
I looked after him and imagined him with Katheryna khyrva. It was true what he said, she was a whore, a cock-sucking whore, who was after guys just to use them while her boyfriend was fighting in Vietnam for his country, or whatever war they sent him to. But Bohdan wasn’t the first one, I had lost out before he did and without a word of goodbye or acknowledgement from her. I had been her little toy and playmate for a while but then she quickly got bored and started looking for another one…a younger one.
Where, in the 6th grade, perhaps? Or maybe the 5th? Who the hell knew what she was trying now?
I went home and wondered how many boy friends had Kathernya khyrva while the war in Vietnam raged on? A hell of a lot, that’s for sure…. But what would she do once the war was over?I jerked off...
In the 5th grade I won a prize, not only was my poem accepted by the teacher as the best in class but who then set it to a typewriter which was then plastered it on a wall so that everyone could see and read and admire.
God, how proud I was!
Of course all the other boys taunted me that I was a sissy and called me many names everywhere I went. But after a while I no longer cared. I was a poet whose poem hung on a wall in school.
Screw them! I thought…but I never had another poem to hang on a wall again…at least I didn’t show anyone….
The thing about Olena was that she wouldn’t recognize me as one from her neighborhood, like I didn’t exist for her, that’s why she acted like she didn’t know me when I saw her in the Village.
“People are strange to me,” I overheard her say one time, looking right at me on the corner of 7th street as she stood there talking with other girls from school. “I just don’t know them.”
I smiled to myself, thinking that was a clue, a hint, a come on…but I had heard this so many time before and of course the chances of running into Olena were very slim in the Village. The place was always crowded with people going in and out of the park and my chance of picking the right location she was in were astronomical if not any greater. But I at least took the chance….
The film we had last seen at the Sheridan was The Hustler with Paul Newman, who played a macho Texas he-man who got whatever lady he went after. I thought of going in and watching the film without Olena giving me a hand-job (if I was so lucky to get one) but it was a dollar and twenty-five, something I didn’t have, so I paced outside, fuming, thinking she was in the movie house…then went to the park thinking I’d see her there…then headed again back to the Sheridan, getting angrier by the minute….
After about four hours of walking back and forth I headed back down to the Lower East Side….
There was Olena, tight-pantsed, tight bloused, her blond hair puffed high on her head like she was wearing a tiara and just ignoring me. I cursed at her and didn’t even say hello…I went home and angrily jerked off.
But I wished I had gone in and watched The Hustler again; it was the last chance they’d be showing that…at least for awhile….
Shit! I hated being stood up…even if I didn’t have a date.
We were in the auditorium taking our seats to watch some religious film when Ihor saw that Marika had entered. If you looked at them carefully you would have seen that they both had turned very red.
Something was up?
Marika entered the row before Ihor so she wouldn’t sit near him.
Something was really up….
Ihor fumed as he watched her enter her row -- she didn’t even glance in his direction, but knowing their closeness it was impossible they were not aware of each other.
What would happen? we wondered…
Marika reached the seats before him…and Ihor was right there…bending over and reaching out to grab her ass. It was a nice firm handful, clutching her meaty buttocks like reaching out and feeling a piglet or a sow -- but this was New York’s Lower East Side and his sweated hand clutched a nice firm ass…and quickly withdrew….
We expected a scream to burst out from her but there was just a momentary gush of surprise from Marika and in her red-faced silence which we never saw in the darkness…it was unclear what was happening.
Jesus was born up on the screen to quite a few boys stiff and dreaming of Marika…I rushed home after the movie and proceeded to masturbate….What else could I do?
Myroslav was in love with Luba -- but she didn’t give a shit about him.
“We’re going to get married,” he would dreamily say. “Right after we’re done with school, you know?” And he winked as if taking us into conspiracy he had on going with Luba.
Stefan had enough of that and told him so. “You’re a real jerk,” he’d say as he shook his head in disgust. “I bet you she makes it with her Italian boyfriend, you asshole!”
Myroslav almost came out swinging from Mindy’s soda shop but the other guys held him back so he went off down Second Avenue cursing and mumbling to himself.
“Everyone knows that she’s a cunt,” Stefan said. “Why just yesterday she was in the park with that older guy she sees.” He stood up. “Aw, hell, you just watch and see…”
That Friday night, as the bunch was at Mindy’s along came Luba with her beau, maybe twenty years older then her and who had been married before but now it looked like he was after younger fruit, namely Luba.
I glanced over at Myroslav, his head was down and mumbling dejectedly to himself. Again Luba just walked by holding her old lovers arm and dreamily not seeing anything else.
How long would that last? I thought to myself, Myroslav angrily took off down the avenue after Luba and her beau….
Later I found out nothing had happened. I don’t even know if Myroslav confronted the old lover or not….
I shrugged and went on standing outside of Mindy’s soda shop saying snotty remarks to the girls who strolled by.
Sitting in the back of the Sheridan it was too crowded so we sat up front, with our heads aimed still higher to see the picture that was playing -- a dumb Jerry Lewis comedy crap -- but we weren’t interested in that, we came here with one purpose in mind…
Olena to my left as we started making-out and feeling each other, and what I like about these movie theater kissing and hugging was feeling her up under her skirt and getting a glimpse and touch of nylons and silk and frail little stuff...And the way my hand was probing up her skirt, inching higher up her hose and feeling the garter straps having shifted about her spread legs, I wanted to push even further her panties were in my way.
And Olena used to act like she was a little girl victim, her lips pouting, her sighs deeper, her legs spreading, until she spasmed and pushed me off, like she hadn’t known someone might be watching, her face red and nervously looking about to catch an eye of an surprised observer. I think she’d be looking to show off more…
And of course I’d be left with a frustrating hard-on that had no sense of going down…until one day after she had orgasmed or cummed or whatever you call female spasming, and then sat looking around and lit a cigarette, blowing out her smoke but saw my dick was still hard and eager so she reached for it and started jerking me off as she sat there puffing on her cigarette and boringly looking at Jerry Lewis again made a fool of himself.
It didn’t take long, the thrill, the emotion, the lust, the heat, the openness of sex all combined together and made me spurt out my jism in an explosion of madness and peace. I felt as I was in heaven at that moment, like I had been blessed with being a son of God that had just ascended into his throne into Heaven…and all just from sexually cuming.
“Jesus!” I heard her flare-up. “Right in my hand!”
I had spurted out and the jism rose up her fingers and to her hand reaching up to her elbow…like beautiful pastilles draping along her tender sweet skin…and she was mad as all hell!
“Disgusting!” she said again. “That’s gross!” then she stormed off, I guess to the ladies room to wash her sticky hand off, but I didn’t care. Anyway, she didn’t come back; I waited, thought about her, then just shrugged and lit another cigarette. Hey, it wasn’t bad, I thought, about time she did it to me anyway.
Jerry Lewis appeared again and was funnier as I looked up, laughing at the movie…Ha Ha! What a laugh!...But Olena stayed away….
