Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr (22 page)

BOOK: Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr
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The men picked up their signs and gave their books to
Harry to be stamped; or filled a cup with coffee, a glass with beer,
with a certain amount of resignation and a large degree of silence.
They were not completely humorless, but were in no mood for jokes.
Harry felt good, free, but was in an introverted mood thinking about
Marys and so he sat quietly, nodding, speaking occasionally, and not
slapping backs and roaring, but seeming to share the uneasiness and
concern of the men.

Harry did not go back to Marys until Friday night. He
filled out his expense voucher as usual, talked to the guys who had
come over from the Greeks as usual to drink beer, stayed in the
office for a while after they left, then went to Marys. He walked
right in and went to the corner of the bar, looked around to see if
Ginger was there, then ordered a drink. Marys was even more crowded
than it had been the other night and there was so much noise from the
jukeboxes and people screeching that he could not hear the bartender
when he asked him if he wanted his drink mixed. He leaned over the
bar to hear, nodded, then jerked his head back when he heard a
whistle. A pretty young fairy was looking at him, smiling and shaking
his head, saying something, but Harry could not hear him. Harry
turned his head but glanced occasionally at him from the corner of
his eye. He leaned a little more heavily against the bar, looking
around the bar, into the backroom, watching people move, watching
their gestures, glancing occasionally at the pretty young one still
standing in the same place at the bar. Harry tried to imagine what
was being done with hands under the tables in the backroom, and what
was being done at the tables out of his sight.

He finished each drink in two swallows and the
swallows were closer together. He felt good when the strike started.
He was nervous when he had to talk to the men at the meeting when
they started the strike, but he felt good then too; and he felt good
a couple a times since then when the guys came around and they talked
and drank and that sort of thing; and he felt real great when the
trucks got blown up, yeah . . . yeah, he felt real good that night
and the next day with the picture in the paper . . . yeah, thats when
they started to know who he really was. They knew he was something
before, but after that they really knew. Yeah, it was great gettin
more money and spending all ya wanted and just fill-in in a slip,
just like those pricks in the company and that punk wilson who think
theyre such hot shit walkin around in a white shirt and all that
shit, but he was just as good as any ofem, he knew a few things and
could throw a buck on the bar. Fuck them, the ballbreakers. They
couldnt shove him around anymore . . . yeah, and fuck Mary too. Aint
breakin my balls anymore . . . thats right, aint had that dream since
the strike started. Blow a couple more trucks up and I/ll never have
it. Fuckit. Anyway its gone . . . and thingsll be different after the
strikes over too. Ya bet ya-sweetass—he glanced again at the pretty
fairy and when he looked back at Harry Harry didnt turn his head. He
continued to look and his face unfolded slightly and fell into his
smile, but this time it came a little closer to being a real smile
and the pretty one smiled and winked—yeah, thingsve been good since
the strike. He wished ta krist he could see that fuck wilson and that
ballbreaker harrington—Mr. Big-shit—sweatin it out. They mustta
shit their pants when the trucks were bombed. Bet he knows what he/ll
get if he fucks with me too much—the pretty one was standing next
to him. Harry smiled down at him. She wiggled slightly. Can I buy you
a drink? Yeah. Harry gulped the last swallow of his drink and let her
buy him one. Harry rocked a little on his feet. Guess Im a little
drunk. Ive really been throw-inem down. You look like the sort of man
who can drink a great deal of hard liquor, touching his forearm and
leaning closer. I mustta put a quart away already, not countin what I
had this afternoon, holding on to the edge of the bar and twisting
his arm slightly so his muscles would tighten. Isnt this place simply
marvelous? Yeah, trying to stand taller and straighter. I just love
men who work hard, I mean who work with their hands. Yeah, I hate
pencil pushers. Me, Im a machinist. 1st class journeyman. But I
really work for the union. O, are you an union officer too, smiling.
All her johns and trade were the same. They were all some kind of big
shot. Yeah, Im pretty big in the union. Im takin care a the strike.
O, that must be interesting, not minding a certain amount of this
sort of conversation, but hoping it wouldnt go too far. It really is
rather crowded and noisy in here, isnt it, smiling and tilting her
head back gracefully. Yeah, but it aint bad though. Would you care to
leave? we could go to my apartment and have a few quiet drinks. Harry
stared for a moment then nodded.

When they got to the apartment Harry sprawled on the
couch. He felt drunk. Everything was alright. My name is Alberta,
handing him a drink. Whats yours? Harry. She sat next to him. Why
dont you take your shirt off. Its rather warm in here. Yeah, sure,
fumbling with the buttons. Here, let me help you, leaning over and
slowly unbuttoning Harrys shirt, glancing up at Harry, pulling the
shirt out of his trousers then sliding it off the shoulders and arms
and letting it fall behind the couch. Harry watched her as she
unbuttoned his shirt, felt the slight pressure of her fingers. He
almost thought about the guys and what they would say if they saw him
now, but the thought was easily absorbed by the alcohol before it
formed and he closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness of Alberta.

She stayed close to him, resting one hand gently on
his shoulder, looking up at him, sliding her hand along his shoulder
to his neck, watching his face, his eyes, for any reaction; feeling a
little uneasy with Harry, not absolutely certain how he would react.
Usually she knew how rough trade would react before she attempted
anything, but with Harry she wasnt too certain; there was something
strange in his eyes. She thought she understood what was behind them,
but she still preferred a little caution to recklessness. And too,
this was exciting. Occasionally she just had to cruise and bring home
trade that looked dangerous; but, slowly, as she caressed his neck
and back and looked into his face, she realized that she didnt have
to fear Harry; and she understood too that this was a new experience
to Harry. The puzzled expectant look on his face excited her. She had
a cherry. She tingled. She rubbed his chest with the palm of her
other hand. Your chest is so strong and hairy, the tip of her tongue
showing between her lips; rubbing his back, touching gently the
pimples and pockmarks. Youre so strong, moving closer, touching his
neck with her lips, her hand moving from his chest to his stomach, to
his belt, his fly; her mouth on his chest, then his stomach. Harry
raised himself slightly as she tugged at his pants then relaxed, then
tensed as she kissed his thighs and put his cock in her mouth. Harry
pushed against the back of the couch, squirmed with pleasure; almost
screamed with pleasure at the image of his wife being split in two
with a large cock that turned into an enormous barbed pole, then he
was there smashing her face with his fist and laughing, laughing and
spitting and punching until the face was just a blob that oozed and
then she became an old man and he stopped punching and then once more
it was Mary, or it almost looked like Mary but it was a woman and she
screamed as a burning white hot cock was shoved and hammered into her
cunt then slowly pulled out, pulling with it her entrails and Harry
sat watching, laughing his laugh and groaning, groaning with pleasure
and then he heard the groan, heard it not only from inside, but heard
it enter his ear from outside and he opened his eyes and saw Albertas
head moving furiously and Harry moaned and squirmed frantically.

Alberta kept her head still for many minutes before
getting up and going to the bathroom. Harry watched her walk away
then looked at his prick hanging half rigidly between his legs. It
hypnotized him and he stared at it for a moment knowing it was his
yet not recognizing it, as if he had never seen it before yet knowing
he had. How many times had he held it in his hands as he pissed; why
did it seem new to him? Why did it suddenly fascinate him so? He
blinked his eyes and heard the water running in the bathroom. He
looked at his penis again and the strangeness disappeared. He
wondered briefly about his thoughts of a moment ago. He couldnt
remember them. He felt good. He looked toward the bathroom waiting to
see Albertas face.

Her face had a polished wax glow and her long hair
was neatly combed. She wiggled toward him, smiling. She laughed,
lightly, at Harrys surprised look when he noticed she was wearing
nothing but a pair of womans lace panties. She poured two more drinks
and sat beside him. Harry took a gulp of his drink and touched her
panties. Do you like my silks? Harrys hand jerked back. He felt
Albertas hand on the back of his neck. She gently guided his hand to
her leg. I love them. They/re so smooth, holding his hand on her leg
and kissing his neck, his mouth, sliding her tongue into his mouth,
searching for his, feeling the bottom of it as Harry curled his
tongue back in his mouth, caressing the base of his tongue with hers,
Harrys tongue slowly unfolding and lapping against hers, his hand
grabbing her cock, Alberta moving his hand away and back on her leg,
letting her saliva drip from the tip of her tongue onto Harrys,
squirming as he clutched her leg tightly, almost feeling the drops of
spit being absorbed by Harrys mouth, feeling his tongue lunging into
her mouth as if he were trying to choke her; she sucked on his tongue
then let him suck on hers, rolling her head with his, moving her hand
over his lumpy back; slowly moving her head back and away from his.
Lets go into the bedroom, darling. Harrv pulled her toward him and
sucked on her lips. She slowly separated her mouth from his and
tugged him from the back of his neck. Lets go to bed, slowly
standing, still tugging. Harry stood, staggering slightly. Alberta
looked down and laughed. You still have your shoes and socks on.
Harry blinked. He was standing with legs spread, penis standing
straight before him, naked except for his black socks and shoes.
Alberta giggled then took his shoes and socks off. Come on lover. She
grabbed him by the prick and led him to the bedroom.

Harry flopped onto the bed and rolled over and kissed
her, missing her mouth and kissing her chin. She laughed and guided
him to her mouth. He pushed at her side and at first Alberta was
puzzled, trying to understand what he was trying to do, then realized
that he was trying to turn her over. She giggled again. You silly
you. You never have fucked a fairy before, have you? Harry grumbled,
still fumbling and kissing her neck and chest. We make love just like
anybody else honey, a little peeved at first then once more relishing
the charm of having a cherry. Just relax, rolling over on her side
and kissing him, whispering in his ear. When she finished the
preparations she rolled back onto her back, Harry rolling over on
her, and moved rhythmically with Harry, her legs and arms wrapped
around him, rolling, squirming, groaning.

Harry lunged at first, then, looking at Alberta,
slowed to an exciting movement; and as he moved he was conscious of
his movements, of his excitement and enjoyment and not wanting it to
end; and though he clenched his teeth from lust and pinched her back
and bit her neck there was a comparative relaxing, the tautness and
spasms being caused by pleasure and desire to be where he was and to
do what he was doing. Harry could hear hers and his moans blending,
could feel her under him, could feel her flesh in his mouth; there
were many tangible things and yet there was still a confusion, but it
stemmed from inexperience, from the sudden overpowering sensations of
pleasure, a pleasure he had never known, a pleasure that he, with its
excitement and tenderness, had never experienced—he wanted to grab
and squeeze the flesh he felt in his hands, he wanted to bite it, yet
he didnt want to destroy it; he wanted it to be there, he wanted to
come back to it. Harry continued to move with the same satisfying
rhythm; continued to blend his moans with hers through the whirlygig
of confusion; bewildered but not distracted or disturbed by these new
emotions giving birth to each other in his mind, but just
concentrating on the pleasure and allowing it to guide him as Alberta
had. When he stopped moving he lay still for a moment hearing their
heavy breathing then kissed her, caressed her arms then rolled slowly
and gendy onto the bed, stretched out and soon slept. Harry was
happy.

Harry didnt open his eyes immediately when he awoke,
but lay thinking then opened them suddenly, very wide, and turned and
looked at Alberta. Harry sat up. The entire evening jammed itself
into Harrys mind and his eyes clouded from his terrible anxiety and
confusion. For the briefest moment he hid behind alcohol and
overlapping images hung in front of him, then passed. He dropped back
on the bed and fell asleep once more. When he awoke again later he no
longer wanted to run. The frightening clarity felt for the moment
when he first awoke assimilated itself with the usual confusion of
Harrys mind and he was now able to look at Alberta and remember the
night, in a general penumbrous way, and not be afraid to be
there—though still fearing the consequences of having someone find
out—but the fears and confusion were overshadowed by his feeling of
happiness.

Actually it was this feeling of happiness that
bothered Harry more than anything else at the immediate moment he sat
in the bed and looked at Alberta and remembered, with pleasure, the
night before. He knew he felt good, yet he couldnt define his
feeling. He couldnt say, Im happy. He had nothing with which to
compare his feeling. He felt good when he was telling wilson off; he
felt good when he was with the guys having a drink; at those times he
told himself he was happy, but his feeling now went so much beyond
that that it was incomprehensible. He didnt realize that he had never
been happy, this happy, before.

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