MATADORES DE SUENOS PERDIDOS f/m/f Sex and Suicide Part II


KILLERS OF LOST DREAMS:
"MATADORES DE SUENOS PERDIDOS"

Part II

II. HOURS LATER THAT SAME NIGHT

Mary, speaking softly, but gesturing heavily, holding her thin,
dark " blunt" so the smoke would waft away, finally said, after
pausing too long on the brink of desperation, "I always get off
center when I am drinking too much."

As Mary swallowed the last of her fifth Tequila Sunrise, "Yes, I
want that," Mary said to herself swaying into the background of
the music as if she were part of the notation.

"What did you say," Jane asked.

Ignoring the question, Mary watched the men and women shift the
mountains of their bodies. Mary pointed out the sexiest to Jane
illustrating faults with distorted facial gestures and beauty
with fake sighs.

It was all too obvious and Jane was bored as usual -- but not
exactly with Mary. Jane realized she wanted Mary. I need to come,
and all this philosophy is getting in the way. No way, Jane said
to herself, I am not going to mess this up.

When Mary spoke, Jane's mouth open slightly, almost sexy, and she
would say nothing, and then speak as if the words were a test of
disorder or that nothing we all endure.

"You know you have beautiful eyes," Jane said, teasing Mary with
a trite come-on.

Mary, almost drunk, ignored Jane, but said. " I like my eyes.
They always connect, and why the come on bullshit now, Jane."

"Yes, I do, but you don't."

"Don't what"?

"You know want romance. That is what you say."

Mary couldn't stop laughing at Jane.

Jane wished she could say, "fucken tits, fucken A" like that
stupid cowboy and his sister that she had met when she tagged
along with Mary when Mary shot that convention at Vegas. Mary was
a fair but not artistic photographer. She made money on western
shots and imitation Ansel Adams.

That guy was so vulnerable and full of himself, Jane remembered.
He had told her that he and sister often took vacations together.
Neither of us are married he said. We just like to hang out. She
remembered as she watched Mary shoot the couple that Mary seemed
very turned-on. When Jane asked her about it later, Mary said,
that guy is fucking his sister. She told me. Asked me to join
them, which I did.

Mary cares about nothing, Jane realized. That is why I want her.
I care about so much, Jane thought.

Jane was a Professor of Psychology at the University of Arizona.
What else could I do, Jane said when asked by Mary why she liked
teaching.

Jane, two or three hours into their night out, but not as drunk
as Mary, watched her younger friend's breasts loose in too large
blouse daring Jane to touch them again.

 From one instant to the next, Jane would study the nipple or a
line on Mary's throat caught in the shadows of the lights
flashing in the club or the reflection of the mountains.

Jane nodded watching Mary as she pushed her legs apart, lifting
the short skirt higher, taking hold of her cunt, thinking of its
space, wanting to separate the lips further as she watched Mary
watch not only her but at least four guys leaning over the table
now. Mary pulled back.

"You're gonna cause a riot, Mary, Jane laughed. Stop it. Put your
cunt away."

What a wonderful word, "cunt," Jane thought. I remember when I
never could say that word and not have sister lecture me for
hours about being used by men, Jane thought.

Distracted by Mary's semi-private show, Jane also pulled her not
quite as short skirt down over her knees. "Look at that guy over
there," Jane said. "He's the only one not looking at us." Jane
said. "Why is the fucker sporting that obviously fake mustache
and why wear a business suit here."

"Maybe it is so perfect the mustache is real," Mary said. "I like
his thick graceful hands. He is too handsome to be imperfect; you
know what I mean. Anyway, he is avoiding us. At least he refuses
to make eye contact. I know I have tried several times."

"How could you darling, I thought you wanted me," Jane played up
to Mary. "Sure, Yes, of course, Mary dear," Jane said. "Right now
I am watching you suck that fucken jock half asleep at the bar.
God, I love to watch you stir 'em up."

Lost in fantasy, Jane did not realize (or maybe she did) how her
hand was lost between her legs deep in her cleft of her cunny. In
the middle of Jane's flight of fancy, while Jane imagined the
heft and mass of the guy's cock and how Mary was about to suck
the tip, almost on cue, lightning flashed out over the patio,
seemingly a fake gesture if that was possible.

Jane and Mary clearly loved nature and believed all the artifacts
of the natural world were physically real and any fantasy
conjured.

Immediately after that first flash, Mary, felt quite alone and
suddenly very small. Turning to Jane, Mary asked simply, "I need
a cigarette. How about you?"

Jane handed the almost empty pack to Mary, took one herself, but
accepted a light from some bloke who put his head in at the right
time. Not exactly the come I imagined, Jane laughed to herself
realizing how she had been interrupted.

Turning away from "helpful hands," as she called men who liked to
light them up, when she was sure of her light, Jane turned back
to Mary and away from the guy who had burned his hand. He left
quickly without an exit line.

"Maybe, he got it out of a box," Jane giggled. "You know the guy
with the fake upper lip."

"What did you say, Jane," Mary said, self consciously looking
down and pushing her tits together, admiring them, letting them
close tighter so the effect of the cleavage was severe and the
bands of the blouse would push up from the flesh revealing more
of the inner surface and its sweep. Jane imagined the mountain as
her mask, and talking to herself, she felt the pull of its core
in her uterus. I know I do, she said.

"What the fuck you talking about lady," Mary shook her head just
a bit lost in the mixture of internal and external events. Mary
had no idea what Jane meant or had seen. It was all a blur in the
simpler sexual imagination of Mary, but then again how could Mary
know what Jane had thought, but she did.

When Mary looked, the man with the fake lip was gone, and Mary
had no clue as to the name of the fucking guy or what Jane had
said. "That's nice," Mary said, about nothing.

Suddenly, Jane said, very excited and animated, "You see that
other shit faced guy. The one wearing a black tee shirt and those
new capes the guys think make them look powerful when and if they
jump."

Mary waved at him and said to Jane. "Yes, yes, I know what you
are going to say. Yes, he is too cute to be worth anything."

"Have you fucked him," Jane asked.

"He's that weird guy I told you about. He did come here tonight.
I told him I would fuck him again if he did. We could do him
together. "

"You never told me about him, Jane looked at Mary, lifting Mary's
hands again.

Mary and Jane continued their banter as the guy happy to be
almost invited pulled an empty chair up to the table pushing him
between the women who shifted slightly annoyed that he had tried
to sit between them. They did not let him.

"This one," Mary said, pointing to the guy, as if he were a
painting, and not the man who was almost sitting in their laps,
"told me last night after we fucked (yes, it was after) that he
was a freelancer and would jump the roof tonight. He said he
would dedicate the jump to my desire. He claims, get this, that
he does not use the anti gravity, he floats before he hits the
ground.

Mary knew that the professional jumpers had a trick or two to
give them some chance. What could this fucker do to reverse
gravity without the device?

"Are you dead or alive now," Jane asked the man wearing the cape
made of the same material as Jane's blouse, making the dark cloth
both transparent and reflective, and Jane leaned into Mary so the
man could see how Mary and Jane were connected.

"Jane this guy can really move his ass," Mary added, taking hold
of the guy's hand and placing it her lap. Holding Jane's other
hand also, Mary looked back and forward at the man and then Jane,
enjoying the absolute ebullient affection of the pair.

Jane not usually jealous of the way Mary touched the man, said,
coming from no where, annoyed with Mary, perhaps wanting to
embarrass her, said "I saw the way you fucked that guy in the
back seat that time we went to that fucken drive in. When was
that, last September?

"What are you talking about, Mary was confused, startling the man
by her tone, as Jane pushed Mary's blouse open exposing both
breasts. At first, Mary resisted Jane, and pulled her arms up and
the man, looked from one woman to the other, wondering who would
blink first. The man delighted by the sexual tension could not
believe his good fortune.

Wrestling for just a few seconds both women stopped almost at the
same time and on cue paused to wipe away the intensity from their
and palms and face. Mary while she adjusted herself, without
turning her back, quickly released the back of her blouse.

Taking the top off, Mary loving wearing nothing. At the beach,
she always swam completely in the nude. Wearing nothing is the
same as taking off a jacket, Mary said, giving her blouse to the
man, telling him to keep it for her, as a talisman for his jump.

Jane virtually nude herself smiled at Mary, but the guy, breaking
the space ran the back of his hand down Mary's breast, letting
the edge of his palm lift it. He did it gracefully, casually, and
then he did the same thing to Jane carefully lifting the
transparent silk.

"You're breathing hard," Jane said to the guy.

"Fuck yes," he said. "Look at what's here. How can you not
breathe hard? Fuck. I want you both," he said. "Right here, now.
Climb into my skin and jump with me. You will feel my freedom."

After talking about freedom, the man did something that neither
of the women expected. Pulling his cock out, he held it in his
hands.

 Mary took the man's cock in her hand, and started to lean over,
but she could not stop laughing, and Jane at first tried to pull
her back, but then stopped.

"No way," Mary said. "I am not going to suck it. You want it too
much."

"Why not, "Jane said. "We're were doing the same thing exposing
ourselves without asking anyone here if they are offended. "Good
for him," Jane said to herself, smiling inside, but not showing
it.

"What the fuck you laughing at," he said, standing up, turning to
first Mary who was laughing very loud. "You know my cock well."

"Put it away," Mary shrieked. "Fuck no, not now, I am not drunk
enough, besides I am waiting for your real show," alluding to his
promise to jump off the roof with the professional jumpers.

"I'm not used to being laughed at," the guy obviously had a sense
of humor, said, almost too softly. "If you want to both fuck me,"
he said, "that can be arranged."

Jane intrigued by his offer, turned to him, putting her hands on
the his shoulders, brushing her tits against the back of his
hand, she said, "Sorry, I thought (nodding to Mary) I was looking
at a dead man. Not into fucking dead cocks this season."

Not surprised by Jane's wit, the man, almost spoke, but first
Jane turned back to Mary, she put her hand on his cock pulling
him further into the threesome, but teasing him, "saying, I doubt
you will get any of our ass tonight, shit, I know I am stoned out
of my head, Mary, but you're really excited. Maybe we should."
Mary startled put her hand over Jane's mouth, but Jane shook her
hand away, isn't she Mr.? You do have a name. She is turned on.
You must be able to smell her, Jane looked hard at Mary and the
man and laughed at the absurd picture they made in the middle of
a bar - not that anyone cared.

"Never mind, Mary said. "He is mine, not yours," Jane teased
pulling on the man's hand swallowing the whole hand edging it
closer to her the cleft between her legs. Held there up to the
wrist, by the hot clasp, not that he wanted to leave, the man
tried to push Mary's thigh open which he did when he bit Mary's
neck.

Mary surprised by his tenderness, wanted him with Mary. I hope he
makes it, Jane thought. I like how he was tender and not rough.
His hand felt like a woman's, Jane thought.

I wonder if he has courage, Jane thought, to just reach pick me
up and take one of us right here on the dance floor. What a
fantasy.

The man said and did nothing, but moved the hand deeper into
Mary's crotch, making Jane lean over closer so she could watch.
Jane, in a better position to see how he pulled at his crotch
with one hand and Mary's sex with the other, said, "Mary, I think
he wants to jerk off more than make us come."

"Sure do the man said, anything you want."

Mary said, "let him do it here first for us. Let me see him come,
and with the word "come," Mary pushed the man's hand out from
between her legs, and smirked.

Jane turned to the man, understanding that Mary was a tease and
had changed her mood, "will it rise on the third day or what.
Didn't Mary brag that you could jump off the hotel roof and not
die."

"I can," he said. "I have. I did it last year."

"Mary was in Paris last year and I was teaching in New York last
year, finishing my doctorate.

Oh, you mean that fraudulent anti-gravity wind that keeps you
safe or dazzles us while you are helped by the hotel staff off
the lower ledge to prove your bravery, Jane mocked hoping the man
was not a fraud.

Do you work for the hotel, Mary asked.

No, I am a freelancer, He said

Is the Priest present, Jane asked?

No, I have done it. I can. I use another way.

Hasn't that been proven to be so rare it happened only once in a
thousand years," Jane added.

You know why we come here, don't you? Twenty-four people jumped
from the roof of this building last year. Eighteen died. That is
the locals call it "Matadores de Sue os Perdidos."

Mary jumped in. No, Mary, it was more than that. Remember that TV
show that said another ten also took their lives in other ways
showing their devotion to the jumpers.

I want this man, Jane thought, but why.

He very quickly had assumed a protected and special status with
Jane If not Mary. Staring back a them more assured, able to
focus, and biting his lips, he put his hand on Jane's hand, and
was so carefully tender, she instinctively moved closer to him,
but when he moved closer, Jane alarmed that she might offend
Mary, pulled back.

Jane surprised by his gentleness, said. "Get the fuck out of here
you fucken bullshit artist."  She said it gently as an obvious
tease. I said what I thought I should say, Jane told Mary later.

Challenged, pulling out news clippings, the man showed them the
story of how he had survived suicide when he had jumped last
year. No, I am, he said, superman.

Looking at the article, actually reading it, Jane said. "It says
here you survived suicide because you bounced off two canopies
and onto the roof of a convertible. It also says you almost died
from your fall.

Not exactly expecting anyone to actually read the article, the
man said, "let me see you jump off the roof, and then turning to
Mary putting his arm around her, he said, speaking directly to
Mary. "We can go hand in hand. You know your breast will flatten
out from the pressure of the air when you fall. He really looks
weird, but so wonderful to jump without thought of consequences.
"That's the secret," he said. "If you fear death, you will die.
If you take it on, you can live."

Jane startled by the man claim to be the mythical superman said,
"You don't expect someone, nor do I want you to say that you can
like some ancient "superman" 'leap tall buildings in a single
bound.

"You're not serious, are you, you fucker," Mary added her retort,
as she felt the man's cock thicken again having put her hands on
him again as she thought, he was so warm. "That he is," Mary
seemed obsessed. "No Jane," Mary squealed and then sighed, "I
said he came at the most inopportune time, if you know what I
mean. I never did let him come where he wanted. Why do you guys
insist on messing up the bed?"

"I really can jump and live," the man said.

"You're full of shit," Mary got back in his face.

"Do not cut his balls off too far down," Jane cautioned. "We may
need him. Sir, Jane taking an officious tone, said "wouldn't you
rather have us than jump tonight?"

"Fuck no, Jane," Mary stood up. "No fucken way. I want to see him
jump first. Fuck later," Mary said, pretending to be more hard
ass than the tone she used.

"I must have some proof first before I fuck superman with or
without you Jane." Jane had started to walk to the railing. Well,
you coming. Jump. Do it. Or you can fuck our minds and bodies if
you have enough left, and saying that, Jane reached up and kissed
the man biting his cheek when she pulled away."

"No way, not yet. Too much confusion jumping during dinner, the
man seemed to be trying to get out of Jane's trap. "Can't. I need
the money. My sponsor insists on jumps twice a year. No one
really dies you see. Except for me, it is all completely a fake."

"You're bullshit," Jane said, feeling very sad, looking away when
she caught Mary's eye who seemed to be saying let's get out of
here.

Without any preamble, "here, I'll show you," he said and with
that last phrase, the tall, thin man carefully moved his chair,
shuffling it, so he could look into Jane's eyes and then
realizing he was talking to the wrong woman, he turned back to
Mary, and then back to Jane.

"What are you doing," Mary laughed at the man.

"I gain my strength from both of you," he said, stuffing his cock
back in his pants and zipping up.

"Fuck him," Jane pretended disdain. "Talk to me, Mary. Look here
at my eyes. He's full of shit"

Here he comes, finally Jane thought. What bullshit, but he is so
fucken real, what the fuck's wrong with Mary? Why is she looking
at the shit? I am here. I am real. He is a sad shit with a nice
ass.

Gently, taking Jane's faces hand, looking into her eyes (the
woman almost broke out in laughter), the dark man rushing forward
told both women now one at a time that they were the most
beautiful, stunning creatures he had ever seen. It was a stereo
production. He even said he might love them all forever.

"Every fuck two women, Jane turned to the man, can you come at
least twice?" Can your tongue handle it; Jane mocked the man and
then Mary for fucking his bullshit dick. "I think you are both
frauds," Jane said, but what the hell, and she pulled the man
into her lap taking him away from Mary.

"The man answered not quite sure who was speaking to who, said,
did it with my girl friend and her cousin once," he confessed.
Jane could not believe how she shook this guy up. Mary was
surprised too. She thought the guy in love with himself, not that
Mary liked this quality.

"Shut up, Jane half kissed him. Starting to take his face in her
hands, squeezing his cheeks, amazed he let her. "Not you ass
hole, she whispered to the man. Girl friend here first. Do not
get it up too much, fucker, Jane said to the man. "She has never
fucked in a threesome. I would have heard first."

"Yes, I did, Jane. No lie. With Paul and his brother. I was
seventeen. Remember how we used to hang out with Paul's crowd.

"You fucker," Jane said, ignoring the man again who stood there
gathering his will to jump. "I did not know you then and you know
it. I just thought you were an ordinary slut not a ho, laughing.
"Why didn't you tell me that night when we wrote down the list of
all the guys we had fucked? I know we were drunk. I even told you
how I fucked Paul while you were dating him. You forgave me and
told me how you had fucked my older brother at that pool the
summer before we became friends. I loved it and told you how my
brother and I had fooled around. You told me about how you and
your sister had played with your mother's toys."

As Jane spoke, she kept hitting Mary on the shoulder, looking
easily at Mary's nipples, and Mary shifted, opening her legs, so
Jane could see more and more of her excitement.

"No fucken way," Mary finally answered Jane. You could not get it
up twice for me; she grabbed the man's zipper trying to open it
again. "One of us would get the too soft fuck that was like
slightly warm coffee."

Disgusted, Mary and Jane turned their back on the man, when he
moved towards them one at a time, they each pushed him away, and
when Jane refused, he almost fell backward off his chair.

Not used to being rejected the man was disgusted too, and he
started to walk away but not towards the railing where he could
have stopped the conversation by jumping.

Jane and Mary laughed and their bodies shimmered. A slight sheen
appeared on Mary's upper lips and her mouth parted in slow motion
as she smoked a dark cigarette very slowly drawing in drag after
drag.

While Mary smoked Jane kept hitting Mary on her shoulder, but
with each blow landed softer until Jane stopped allowing her hand
to knead the shoulder, moving to Mary's neck, making her wince,
and finally pulling away, Mary said "stop," but not really
meaning it, she moved closer to Jane.

"So you fucked them both at once," Jane repeated.

"I know," Mary commented to Jane, "just like some old fashioned
porn flick. I hated it in my ass. He would not stop when I beat
at him. Just kept doing it. I felt raped, but afterwards, I liked
it. I ached."

"See," Jane leaned back to Mary.

"See what"?

Mary did not catch it, and she offered, "Yes, I know, I liked it
more the second time when I did it with the three of them."

"Three, the story gets better, the man added, walking back to the
women ready to give it one more try. He looked almost like a man
who had found a secret reserve.

"Shut the fuck up," Jane said to the man. I saw three guys jerk
off once. Wouldn't let them do it on me."

The Man watched the conversation. With each sharp exchange
between the women he appeared more and more eager, and with his
interest, Jane became the greater tease pulling from Mary more
and more details of her sexual exploits until finally the man, so
aroused, reached over and touched Jane's thigh putting his hand
between her legs to cup her cunt.

Mary smacked the man. "Get the fuck away from her," she said.

Jane looked at the man, shrugged her shoulder and told Mary that
she really liked his hands. "Not as good as yours, but great for
a man," Jane said. "Sorry, she said to the man," moving away from
him, getting up, pulling the other chair up to Mary on the other
side of the table, and leaning down she put her mouth on Mary's
exposed nipple, licking it and pulling a string of her spit from
the stub of it making a string that glistened.

"You fucken cock teasers," the man said, speaking softly, getting
up, pulling his shirt off to show his pecks.

Mary thought, here we go. "He had to prove his point after all,"
Mary told Jane in their next day post event analysis. Did you see
how he carefully threading himself through the crowd, standing
for just a second at the railing. When he put one leg over the
edge, the shine on his chest was magnificent, Jane added. I never
thought he would actually do it, Mary said, and I thought what "a
hot dog." When he casually leaped out over the patio edge -- just
as he had promised Mary before she let him fuck her, I really did
not believe he did it. I ran to the railing thinking there was
some trick and he would be hanging by a piece of rope.

When we got there, we actually saw nothing. How could you? I was
almost afraid that the mob of folks who has also rushed to the
railing would crowd us until we joined the man at the bottom of
the pit.

At first, as we saw on the security cameras, he floated down 14
flights, but then, at the end of his drop, he speeded up, his
cape blowing dramatically until he hit the pavement without
exception. No one saw the drama of the cape except the cameras.
No one had the chance to hear the man expel death from his mouth
as his skull melted into the ground hitting the pavement hard.

If the man could have looked back up at the woman on the moment
he hit, he would not have seen Mary and Jane, somewhat serious,
wonder at his feat and outcome. Like many of the others, Jane and
Mary were too late to catch the show and the splatter of brains
was inhuman waste after all.

To their credit, at least, Mary and Jane did leave their seats
and push their way to railing to watch the stop action photo of
the action below that would appear on XCAUSE news on the
Internet.

Did I wish that Jane thought? "Yes, I almost did, but not really
smiling," she said to herself.

"He really wanted me," Mary said softly aloud, but no one but
Jane, heard her.

"No Mary, Jane said, he wanted to live."

Mary and Jane quietly walked away from the railing, shaking their
heads, as if everything had happened. That euphoria did not last
long. Again, they sat down in their same seats, the man's shirt
on back of the chair. At first, Jane thought, but did not say,
that the action of the man jumping was part of some bizarre movie
sequence being filmed to demonstrate the new digital video powers
of mental improvisation in "true life action dramas."

"See, what some guys will do to get laid," Mary lighting up
another, shook her breasts and hair, finally draining her beer,
she swallowed Ritalin to counter the reds she had taken earlier.

Mary's silence in contrast to Jane's conversation seemed out of
character.

Jane noticed it. "What's the matter"?

"Nothing," Mary said.

"I know your mind. What gives?"

"Nothing and I mean it. I never expected him to jump. I put it
back."

"What did you put back"?

"Nothing. Leave me the fuck alone."

"Nothing, you said you put something back. What the fuck you
talking about."

Get the fuck away from me, Mary said, and she started to walk
away from Jane.

"Ok," Jane backed down. She knew Mary was stubborn. When she
spoke that way, Jane knew Mary would not say another word.

"Must be what I am drinking or not fucking, Jane said, but "this
great guy" just jumped off the roof. We really do not care do we,
and Jane faked a smile, and looking around the room slowly, she
observed how the noise in the room had changed if they had not
even if some canned music continue to play.

Mary expected Jane to keep at her, and was surprised when Jane
did not repeat her question. Mary heard Jane (but Jane was
silent) "What did you put back"?

When Jane did not press her questions, Mary so out of balance,
began to put her blouse back on and obviously shaken up, and a
hard time getting it on. She couldn't. Stopped and looked at Jane
for help. It was almost as if the disorder of Mary's body was
greater than the confusion in the room.

As a chain reaction, and wanting to be supportive, but never
admitting to weakness, Jane also fussed with her own tits,
wishing she had on some clothes. Amazing the gestures, we
nervously conjure, Jane thought. Suddenly aware of her body and
its warmth, Jane imagined the heat emptying from the body of the
man dead at the bottom of the pit. "My breasts are alive," Jane
said, softly, to Mary who watched Jane shake hers. Not to be
outdone, Mary giggled mocking the schoolgirl she had remembered,
and shook hers until they seemed as if they were riding the air
in slow motion but descending into tears they just stopped
reacting and looked at the crowd and its pretense of riot and
collapsed inside until Jane would pull them back as she always
did.

After that symbolic orgasm, Mary and Jane helped the other get
straight. If anyone had noticed, which was not likely considering
the events, they might have thought both women took much too
long. "You have great hands," Mary said to Jane who turned did
not turn away from the obvious compliment.

"Have any more of those pills or that good weed left, I have this
guy Paul coming over tonight, and I want to..." Mary spoke as if
the guy she had fucked to death last night to pardon an
expression had not jumped to his death nor that she and Mary had
just accepted that they made love in an extraordinary way.

"Jane," Mary spoke again, louder, intentionally changing the
subject again, "we couldn't see if he floated like he said he
might."

"He didn't float in the marvelous manner of balloons," Jane
smirked. "You know the movie. The one were Jeff Artis is born
again in the body of the woman who he fucked just before he was
murdered. Wasn't it called, "Reincarnated?" You know where she
fights the fear of the infant sucking or how she wanted to kill
the infant in her womb suspecting that it was her lover him
coming to her in a dream."

Ignoring Jane, "Yes, but Mike (the first time we heard the man's
name) must have gone in head first. It happened all too fast.
What the fuck did he say, I can't remember all of it, but . . .
he did say he had done it before" and with that Mary lit up
another, and suddenly asked the guy sitting at the next table, if
he knew the name of the band that had just played.

When he asked her to dance, she wasn't surprised, but he was,
when she said no, " I am not really interested in dancing now,
but maybe later," smiling in just the right way, letting the guy
know well maybe but maybe not. It depends, Mary thought, on what
happens later if she invites Mary up to sleep over.

Laughing to herself at the thought of a teenage slumber party,
Mary smiled and Jane smiling back changed the subject again.

Jane stopped talking realizing as she blinked off the booze and
still giggling as she realized several of the guys around her
table had heard what she had said.

The four men watched Jane and Mary talk as if they had slipped
into a forbidden phone conversation. The kind that never
happened. Jane thought. You call a friend and suddenly you are
listening to the friend talk to another friend, and you realize
somehow that you had jumped into their conversation. You put the
phone on mute and listen. When they talk about you, and it so
true what they say, you almost imagine you are talking about
yourself. No way, you think to yourself, can you ever tell them
you what you heard, and when you realize that you are angry.
Nothing is real, anymore, you think pulled back to Mary and the
sudden impossible connection you have made with her. Death did it
you think. Sex did it you amend that first thought and back with
Mary you wonder again what she gave back, knowing that somehow
you would have to ask the question again, but suddenly none of
that mattered because Mary gave it up almost like the accident of
the three way phone conversation.

Something that happens only once in a lifetime. Why should that
one time, that one accident, you think happen now at such an
insignificant moment?

You did not want the man to jump to his death. You never imagined
it happening. It just did like Mary showing she wanted you, and
you wanting her, but not wanting to let her lead.

"I know," Mary said, watching one of the guys watch Jane smoke,
Mary imagined that Jane's had first caressed her face, neck and
was now rubbing her breasts from behind, taking both of them in
her hands allowing her thumbs to rub against the nipples. I felt
my mind being stroked, Mary thought as Jane sat back, relaxed
without any tension or requests.

On the phrase, "I know," Jane listened to her heart and suddenly
heard Mary speaking in mid conversation "just before Mike jumped
I put the shit he gave me back in his pocket. He called it
'kryptonite.' That is what I almost told you. I wanted to, but I
just did not know how. Suddenly now, it seemed important to tell
you. In my mind, I felt you asking me, Jane. Were you? Can you?"

Brought back suddenly, Jane laughed at Mary's obvious story.

"No, I did do it, Mary insisted. I brought it with me just in
case. I thought you would get a kick out of it or not believe it
was real. Besides, when I am drunk like this, it all seemed quite
serious."

It was not really, a question said, feeling another dark man at
the back bar smirking, watching her. Jane pulled her shoulders
back so her tits would not show but in pulling back, she pushed
them out making them stand out more. Turning away from him so he
could not see her face or her breasts, and Jane tired of the game
and just looked away. When she turned back moments later and he
was still starting, she mouthed "fuck you at him," but did it in
a way that was an ironic welcome that didn't show her confusion.

"But he was so nice, wasn't he," Jane mocked. " Your mystery man
jumped to prove what. How silly," Jane said. "I know it is mad to
think it, but you said you had a good time last week."

"You mean the porno star or the man who just jumped. His name was
Mike by the way." Mary answered.

"Mike or Clark Kent," Jane offered. "No, superman, the real one,"
Jane chortled. Maybe, next week you will tell me you fucked God
and then I really will believe you, Jane thought.

"None of this is real Mary," Jane said. " We are stuck inside a
computer icon and we are being flipped and fucked in some virtual
cocoon with ten thousand men rubbing their dicks like that
ancient horse gag Avi from twenty-five years ago that I found in
a backup drive of my grand father. The woman really chokes in the
Avi. Just as we are now," Jane said that last phrase to herself
and remembering how she showed the film clip to her Mom and how
he Mom had told her that her Papa was a fucked up dirty old man
who should learn to grow old gracefully."

Amazing, Jane thought, watching Mary preen and fuss putting on
fresh lipstick.

"Don't you have anything to say, Mary," Jane asked as she watched
Jane finally put her top back on. Jane in helping her adjust the
back and straps stroked Mary's nipples wondering what it would
feel like in a few months when she nursed when she is suckled by
someone.

"Who gives a fuck about Mike? You? Me? We came here hoping he or
someone would jump. Why do you think we pay so much to come here?
The music sucks. Men are stupid. We have to dress up too much,
and we can't really relax."

Jane was not laughing when Mary stopped. While she spoke, Mary
had taken Jane's hands and playing with each finger brushed them
against her face and neck. "See, I am alive," she said, feeling
Jane's eyes inside her own.

Mary, suddenly, not caring where they were, to Jane to keep the
rise and fall of their embrace as private as possible in a public
room filled with cops trying to figure out if the jumper had been
pushed.

"Maybe we expect too much of ourselves," Jane said, relaxing, but
then suddenly faking a more serious tone watching Mary hands on
her own nipples, having pushed the edges of the blouse back
again, making a beautifully obscene picture, Jane thought.

"That is why I like women, Jane offered. They bullshit better.

"Fuck yes," Mary said. "There is no such thing as a superman,
really, do you really believe me Jane, Mary laughed, and fondling
another bag of kryptonite in the bottom of her tiny hand purse,
she waited for Jane's hands to touch her mind like she has
superman last night.

"So, you want me," Mary asked, repeating the question four times.
Every time she asked, her voice was softer. By the last time,
when Jane responded, yes, Mary asked the question silently just
by moving her lips.

When Jane spoke "yes," she began to lift her transparent top, not
caring who watched, pulling it off quickly. When Jane dropped the
almost weightless top on the floor, their bodies glowed as they
watched the movie of themselves dancing in ovals in the shadows
of the black blinking lights pulsing above the bar.

Stopping the movie, Jane said, "what you did Mary was neither
right nor wrong; it does not matter. "It could not have been
kryptonite. There is no such thing. It is an old TV movie, not
real. Clark Kent and all Supermen are actors we pretend to fuck.
You cannot know when anyone bullshits. How can you?

He gave me two bags last night, Mary blurted out, "He told me I
needed to keep it with me so he wouldn't kill me with his
strength when he got on top and fucked me. If I had not been
drunk, I would have laughed in his face, but I almost believed
him. I knew when I put the bag back in his pocket that I was
making him weak when he wanted to be strong. I felt strange doing
it. It was almost as if I had been set up to do it. The club
likes it when men jump to their death. No one cares when he or
she survives.
Bottom line, Mary thought. "I had no idea he would actually jump
from the balcony. Did I? I actually liked him."

"I did too. He wasn't really a jerk," Jane listened for Mary to
reply.

"He had nice hands," Mary said, kissing Jane's neck sucking on
the vein, visibly biting it.

Yes, life is crazy," Jane added, half out of it, thinking now
about kissing Mary and holding the baby she almost felt move.
Impossible I know, she thought. What is the greater fantasy, Jane
laughed to herself. "I don't give a fuck about him," Jane said,
measuring Mary's throat for the first caress. "I can't make him
live again."

Kissing Mary gently like opening a flower, lip by lip, not caring
who watched, Jane said almost with finality, "when you are alone
with a lover, nothing else can matter but being there with that
person, and when you are not alone, you wish you were."

Guess Mike could have been really superman, Jane thought as she
kissed Mary gently taking Mary's tongue under hers.