The hot sun moved slowly around the room and its golden rays filtered down across Leroy’s body, casting a long, dark shadow. In the apartment next door someone was playing old records and I could hear the gentle strains of “Where Is My Baby?” drifting in through the open window. I held Leroy’s head in my arms.
“Your baby’s here….”
The sunlight painted Leroy’s face scarlet. His fingers were wrapped tightly around his dick, his thick knuckles lined up in a smooth curve down the length of the shaft, and as I watched him, my pussy began to feel lonely, empty without him inside me. I felt as though she were crying to herself, whispering, I miss you…, from between my legs. But sometimes crying can make you feel better when you’re lonely.
“Leroy, you’re so sweet…,” I panted in his ear. Thick jets of hot sperm gushed out into the coconut juice, one sticky liquid almost indistinguishable from the other.
All I could think about was pouring more r u m over it and licking it all up off the floor.
Leroy loved the piano. Once, just before dawn when I was walking to his place to sleep, a familiar melody drifted over from a bar nearby. The bar was closed, but I peered through a crack in the door. And there was Leroy at the piano. He saw me and motioned for me to come in, and he sat me down next to him on the piano stool and gave me a glass of hot lemonade to drink. He was humming to himself as he played, but I couldn’t place the tune.
Leroy’s fingers looked far too big and ungainly to play the piano. But his music moved up through the soles of my feet and I felt it on my skin.
Without thinking, I held on to his arm, mesmerized by his fingers as they wove their magic spell across the keyboard. He gave me a sidelong glance without turning from the piano, then winked at me and smiled. I realized that, for the first time, he’d outwitted me.
I snatched the cigarette from his mouth and placed it between my lips. The brown filter was squashed and wet, and it had his teeth marks embedded in it.
“This is a great tune to smoke to,” I said.
Leroy smiled. His hands flowed over the keys like water, his elbows thrusting, punching the air as he played. I had never seen this side of him before. Those taut, muscular arms were the same arms that held me at night, but I had never seen them move that way before. I thought to myself that if the only things left in the world were me, Leroy, and that piano, our roles would probably be reversed.
“Leroy, if you had piano wires stretched across your teeth…”
He stopped playing.
“…I think I could have fallen in love with you.”
Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and pulled me sharply toward him. I lost my balance and reached out to break my fall. My hand struck the keyboard, and the heavy wooden lid came crashing down onto my arm.
I screamed in pain and surprise. I had never screamed in front of him before, but he just lay me down across his knees and made love to me anyway. He didn’t give me a chance to resist. And with my arm still trapped under the lid, I let him.
It was only when he had finished that he realized what had happened and moved quickly to free me. I could see my red fingernails poking out from underneath the lid—the same nails I had made him paint for me the night before. My arm, now pale from lack of circulation, lay there motionless, pressed down onto the keys in one long, silent chord.
He returned the key to the guy who ran the bar and we headed back to his place together. We walked in silence. I felt as though my pussy lips had wet tissue paper between them, tissue that had been used to wipe down a very dry musical instrument. Because of that, every now and then I stumbled a little and Leroy had to support me.
He looked at me with a worried expression, his bright, piercing eyes shining into mine, and I had to turn my face away. His shirt was stained red, but I couldn’t decide if it was blood from when I had bitten his neck or lipstick from when I had kissed him.
Leroy drew me toward him and held me tightly in the dark alley.
“Please, Ruiko, I need you to love me,” he whispered. The words seemed to explode into the dark silence.
Wrapped in his arms, I drowned myself in the strong, musky scent of his body, powerful and heavy like the aroma of bay leaves in a rich chitterling stew. And I knew we didn’t have long left together.
A short while later I stopped going to Leroy’s apartment altogether. I went back to partying with my boisterous friends and staying out all night. We weren’t satisfied with what Tokyo had to offer, so we often went to a club on the base, and sometimes I even saw Leroy there, too.
But we didn’t speak.
One night he was staring at me and my friends from across the room, but he didn’t come over. He just sat slumped at the bar drinking rum and Coke, staring into his glass, deep in thought. He didn’t speak to anyone. The only time he really looked at me was when I was sitting on another guy’s knee, laughing loudly and drawing attention to myself, and then he just turned his head slightly and looked at me from over his shoulder. I could see the critical look in his eyes and it made me feel very small and self-conscious, like I’d been caught stripping or something, but I pretended not to notice and covered the guy’s cheeks in thick lipstick kisses. Leroy stood up and stormed out of the club, kicking his way through some chairs as he left. It was such a relief when he’d gone—I felt free again.
All I wanted to do that night was to get drunk and get laid. I didn’t care where I slept, and I didn’t care who with. I was with the guy whose knee I had been sitting on earlier, and as we walked along the bar-lined street, I suddenly had a horrible feeling—almost a premonition. I could hear the familiar sound of a piano coming from one of the bars, and I quickened my pace as we approached. I tried to get the guy I was with to walk faster, too, but he was even drunker than I was and he couldn’t stumble along any faster.
Suddenly the door of the bar burst open. Leroy stood there motionless, silhouetted in the doorway.
“Yo, man…,” the drunk guy slurred.
Leroy glanced over at him and then looked at me. Then he drew back his fist and punched the guy hard in the face, sending him reeling, his arms and legs flailing wildly, into the doorway of a shop across the street. He hit the door with a loud thud and fell in a drunken heap, knocked out cold.
I was frightened that Leroy might hit me, too, but he just stood there staring at me hesitantly.
“I don’t want to walk,” I told him, and he picked me up and carried me to his car.
Once inside I was enveloped by a strange sense of relief. I looked in the rearview mirror, thinking that the guy I had been walking with might be chasing after us. But all I could see was the crisscross lattice of the wire mesh as we drove through the gate and off the base.
I’m not sure what I wanted to prove that night. I turned my chair I around the wrong way and sat facing him, straddled across the I seat with my legs wide open, my pussy hidden by the back of the chair. Then, leaning my elbows on the backrest, I ordered him to get undressed.
Without taking his eyes off me, Leroy slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. When his fingers reached his zipper I motioned for him to come closer and he shuffled forward on his knees. He was at perfect kissing height. He didn’t look at all embarrassed or uncomfortable with the situation, more like a child obediently waiting for my next command.