"Tight Fist"

I once sat in a triangle of girls at a party full of drunk men. We sat on the bed topless, breasts alive with pleasure lips on mouths lips on nipples hands groping sex. It was heaven until he barged into the room, a furious bull with a face of prime evil. He butted his nose up against mine so close I could almost lick his teeth, so close I could not focus on his features. He stood over me, arm cocked back ready to strike me square in the face if I would give him a reason to do it. He ordered me home with him, "Right now you cunt, you're coming with me". I smiled, scared and excited, still high on ecstasy, telling him no through my teeth. I watched his fury rise up his neck, jugular veins distended, pulsing, hand trembling as he adjusted his fingers for a tighter fist. I laughed in his face, "I'm not a goddamn dog, and I'm not going anywhere with you, you crazy fuck". His arm went into motion and I felt the force of his body as it contacted the left side of my head. I was sober now, too sober to cry too sober to scream, so I sat there stunned and silent. "Bitch" he spat at me as the other drunk guys at the party dragged his ass from the room and dumped him from the balcony to the ground below. I went on kissing lips, kissing nipples hands groping sex. Aleathia Drehmer 2007