Orlando / Hattie

Orlando

Adolescent boy, wearing fashionable clothes, a well kept look, to suggest a subtle tone of arrogance or over confidence. Walking down a club strip, in the middle of the street - as the world goes by around him enabling him to point to specific features which go past as he mentions them.

Hair styled, sexy skinny jeans slithered into and leather jacket donned, I slipped two condoms into my wallet, before shoe-horning myself in to a taxi with my mates. Crowded streets flickered past as we approached the club strip; girls tottered precariously on heels, with bare legs exposed to the night air, whilst leery lads not unlike me gawped at them.
The taxi stopped and we effectively nestled in to the nearest club, and whilst overcoming the thrill of entering underage, we brought in a round of drinks to begin our alcohol fuelled, girl-pulling, shot-downing marathon.
It was a tricky race, I drank more then the others, shot after shot until my inhibitions had diminished and everything looked good. However as the finish line came into sight, most of us had paired up with guys or girls and were making our way back to a soft surface to finish the night. Climactically. I had found myself a girl, a brunette.
I had caught her eye apparently; at least that is what she said after gyrating against my pelvis for about fifteen minutes on the dance floor.
I took her outside - the usual drill - and as she backed against a wall and attempted tirelessly to get me up; another thing came up, sick. Vomiting onto the street my stomach sighed in relief as the alcohol attacking it was expelled; my senses came back to me and so did hers appealingly as she hurriedly said goodbye and scuttled down the street, skirt still hitched immodestly high.
Fighting the urge to pass out I heaved myself closer the club entrance hoping to locate a friend, worrying I might end up facing the horrors of a hangover and headache which were sure to follow, alone. Several other clubbers left, many worse then me, but eventually just before I had wholly lost hope Jessy appeared from the depths of the raving basement.
Spotting me instantly, I was helped to another taxi where we both set off home. The taxi ride was spent preventing another vomiting session and Jessy complaining about our laddish and exploitist behaviour.
"Every bloody time, it's always one of you, for god's sake, I mean what would have happened if I wanted to go back with someone, if I had actually met someone? Does anyone think of that? No not a thought for me, no, you know what I am sick of it, you wait when I meet that special someone..."
"Special someone!" I mocked. That was Jessy through and through, sensitive, kind and just a little too caring.
When we got back to Jessy's - obviously I was in too much of a state to go back to my house - I was sobered up with bread and water; swallowed a couple of pain killers when the headache emerged and then sat entirely alert on Jessy's bed slowly taking in the room.
Posters of guys on the wall, torsos slick with oil and throbbing with muscle, tanned skin glimmering in the camera lens and laughing eyes or pouting lips to suit the mood of the picture looked down at me; there was the odd picture of friends and family too, and on the shelves were lotions and potions - Jessys always smelt amazing, and a wardrobe straining at its hinges was in the room with me.
Jessy came and sat beside me and looked in to my eyes, seeking to discover my sobriety. I smiled back cheerily and the smile was returned. However instead of instigating a conversation the smiles dwindled and our eyes met. Jessy's deep pools of vivid blue blazed back at me, pupils wide, unknowingly I licked my lips, I was suddenly acutely aware of myself, my slightly unbuttoned shirt, my beltless trousers, by bare feet, my quickening breath, my hand so very close to Jessy's. Jessy slowly removed a cardigan, to expose a delicate vest which in turn covered a delicate frame swathed in the purest porcelain skin, my eyes travelled across the rest of Jessy's body, long and slender legs, discreetly hidden under pyjama trousers, smooth and goose-pimple covered arms, tousled, flaxen hair falling in to the eyes and rose red lips moist and inviting. I leaned in.

Flashing lights become more vigorous like inside a club - faster and faster with the fervour of the discourse.

Our lips met slowly, it was gentle, a kiss with feeling, a kiss which was unsure yet so sure in its intention. However as the unsure kiss became more sure, our bodies came closer and hands removed more clothing, arms drew each other closer, feeling each and every movement the other made. Exploring each other's bodies we sensed the other's enjoyment and as our uniting become more and more vigorous, like a drug, our cravings for satisfaction increased, every touch was ecstasy, every kiss was ethereal, I never wanted to stop.

Lights die down and the stage goes black, one single spot light in the centre, the boy is very still and smiles.

My eyes blinked open and focused on another sleeping body, arousing images flooded back to me about the previous night's frivolities and it was all I could do not to wake Jessy and start it all again. I pulled back the cover to unveil Jessy's bare back, I stroked the soft skin, remembering how I clutched to it so feverously in our moment of desire. I cast a look to the floor, our discarded clothes had not moved, Jessy stirred and awoke. Looking straight in to my eyes we greeted each other with a kiss, our bodies still fairly entangled I could feel Jessy's breathing quicken as my hands travelled again.
"I" Jessy began breathlessly, "I never thought. I mean you....?"
I just smiled in reply, a smile that was unsure at first, but grew gradually more sure.
"Yeah... me."
I was never one for talking really.
Jessy looked at me it was amazing to realise that deep in those pools of blue there was desire, and possibly

Pause, lights dim and only one spot light remains - but a yellow light ie. happy, the boy freezes to the spot and says the last two lines with more feeling then any other lines.

love. Jessy loves me, he loves me, and I think I love him to.
Another boy comes on to stage and holds this boys hand, the boy - Jessy, says nothing but fits the description previously made perfectly. They head of stage together.
Lights down.

END