How sexy and voluptuous he looks, dressed head to toe in semen, masked up, molotov in hand, his beautiful, fiery, lustful eyes watering with blood as he chases a dozen whores down a side street. I am some distance behind him. Alexis longingly gazes back at me through long tendrils of matted hair, running through the liberated streets without his pants on.
We find each other down an alleyway: there are no cops in sight. I kiss Alexis below his cock, and whisper, 'Is this the best we can do?' Alexis nods: "It's finally happening. Get ready for revolution my love." I notice him shiver softly, his nipples rising like an oppressed population chundering over an autocratic ruler.
I feel sensuous, like I want to get more free than I have ever been before....
I grip him by the neck and we enjoy a beautiful, unforgettable embrace in the disease ridden street. For a moment, our street. He pulls the rest of my clothes off so I stand as naked as he, allowing our bodies to breathe the city's air unimpeded.
Suddenly, we hear the sound of smashing bottles and incoherent male voices. Canellos barks a warning. The battle has spilled onto our street, disturbing our precious moment. Riot police charge at prostitutes scarpering in our direction.
We run, leaving our clothes scattered, irrelevant to us but remaining behind to whisper of a brief dream stolen from the jaws of a concretised coma.
Hand in hand we turn this way and that, tumbling through the flavours of the metropolis. Each time skipping free of the dragon's teeth, every barrio a co-conspirator in this crazy dance.
For a moment I notice something strikingly alien, the distant sound of.. typing? Computer keyboards? Something doesn't seem quite...
"Alex! This isn't real! I s..."
Distracted by the shadows I saw sliding, somehow I notice too late that the cops are firing nonsenseguns from their porncopter overhead, fuck fuck FUCK I'm..
[..like a boner drank 100 beers and then we had sex moist like apple sauce fucked a bitch got mad moment of sweet honey crunk n shit for its I got a cougar coz we dont luuuv them gryffindor scarf hoes nipples rising like a coat hook..]
Alexis pulls me free of it and we duck into a nearby tenement building.
"Are you OK?"
"Hnnn. I think so. Hate the way that sexist cliched bullshit clings to the inside of the brain."
"It wears off. We just need to find something to distract you for the next hour or so."
Around us the musty corridors hint of secluded encounterspots: tunnels, cupboards, abandoned laundry rooms - unexplored, coated in dust, waiting for the magic touch of living bodies to re-animate them.
"I have a few ideas", I murmur, gliding my hand along the soft curve of his lower back. His eyes sparkle mischievously.
As I sweep my lover into the gathering darkness, treading barefoot happily on a trail of tender kisses, I ask myself whether it really matters if this adventure is reality or a fragment of dream, of someone's imagination, a passing breeze.
For now I know I am content to enjoy the spell, but I determine that when my head is clear of these traces of cop-poison, I will resume this heretical questioning.
And if all is as I feared? If this space is pure fiction?
Then together we'll smash our way out of the toybox through to reality, using the only weapon we have: our passion for life, our desire for freedom and for each other. We'll manifest this beautiful fleeting madness in the outside world or die trying. If this is really pure fiction, then I owe you, my dear dear reader deep deep gratitude for lending these moments of your own life to bring me into existence and I hope that you too, will help bring this madness into beautiful sexy manifestation.
These thoughts roll back into the ocean of my consciousness, never to be seen again, yet somehow remembered as the shore may remember a special wave and none of these thoughts matter, I realise, as beautiful Alexis pulls me down, slowly, on top of him...
To fuck him hundred times.