This time, he knew she was aware of him. It was her little flicker, causing the white of her eyeballs and the precision of her dark-colored fibrovascular tissue to become targeted towards his. There as she sat in front of her computer in her apartment across from his. She wore nothing but a ridiculous pair of pink boy shorts riding up her perfectly shaped white as. It was final confirmation that she had wanted him to see-all those times.
That was enough to completely put him over the edge he was approaching ever since he could remember. No, it would not be the first time he would masturbate in an awkward situation. He, in fact, was a master of sorts when it came to getting in a quick one while there was a great chance of being captured in a moment he’d never forget. Sure, he knew the gravity of the chances he would take, but every time the urge was just too awesome to ignore. He was a self-proclaimed business man, by style and by trade, and he viewed this issue on the basis of a cost / benefit analysis. And always the cost of the awkward stare, the sudden rush of embarrassment he was sure to feel, far less than the incredible, beautiful benefit from satisfying his monster urge.
He’d satisfied the beast at work, at friend’s places during Super Bowl parties because of those fucking Victoria Secret’s commercials, at his girlfriend Cherish’s parents’ house because of her damn 19 year old sister. At the mall, the supermarket, at Best Buy, shit even at the dog-scrub place down the street. It was incredible, it was divine.
*
And, it all can be traced back to that very first embarrassing (or, in hindsight, inspiring) moment when he was 17.
He was in his bedroom with his little league trophies, third place wrestling tournament banners, Sylvester Stallone and Chuck Norris posters. He had always been a great student, but being sick of everyone calling him a geek, he fought hard to take his grades down. That night his textbooks lay open on the bed, but completely ignored in an ultimate show of defiance. He was alternating between listening to Metallica and “house” music because that’s what all the burnouts and cool kids listened to. He really preferred A-Ha, Europe, Paula Abdul, Erasure, Huey Lewis, but he had learned to keep these preferences to himself.
That night he was getting his head bob thing going to the beat of Metallica’s “Ride the Lightning” while stomping around the room. He began thinking of his Spanish teacher Mrs. Olsen, who was in her 40s or even 50s. Her face was sort of torrid, a bit masculine. But from her neck down—man. Man, how her tight fitting skirts, her slick tan panty-hose, and her high heels really accentuated her curves and muscles. It was incredible. It was divine. So were those gold ankle bracelets that he fantasized taking off with his teeth as she’d put her heeled feet on his shoulders during his fantasies.
He suddenly had an image of Mrs. Olsen there in his room, crawling towards him, licking her big, red, wet lips. Although he knew it was way too early and his mother had a bad habit of coming into his room before she went to sleep, he felt the rage burn up like he had never before. It was overwhelming. He lay on his bed, unleashed it, let it sprout to full glory, and furiously worked to deliver its demand. With “Ride the Lighting” now reaching its manifest, he spread his legs, closed his eyes. After opening his eyes to better focus his energy, he realized that at the door stood his mother, Gloria, with mouth aghast and eyes the size of oranges. He thought of which way to turn over or whether to cover up with a pillow. But then, quite miraculously, he was showered with the grace of his life’s purpose. He shut his eyes and filled his mind with James Hetfield’s growling voice and thoughts of Mrs. Olsen’s mouth devouring his very soul. He didn’t hear his mother’s howl and the slamming of his bedroom door.
Victor David Giron is the son of immigrants from Mexico and Guatemala. He's a CPA bar owner and runs Curbside Splendor Publishing, a small press that showcases art and literature celebrating urbanism. He puts on literary events, and sells books by Chicago-based publishers and authors at the Logan Square Farmers Market. His work has appeared in Rougarou, Umbrella Factory Magazine, Jersey Devil Press, Diverse Voices Quarterly, among others, and his first novel Sophomoric Philosophy came out in November 2010. He lives in Chicago.
Street art by Lädy.
Photo by Adam Lawrence.
'Girls on Medication' is the new single from the Brooklyn band Caged Animals.
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