Читать книгу Arcade - Drew Nellins Smith - Страница 16

10

ONE DAY I DROPPED A TOKEN IN THE SLOT AND SETTLED ON a movie and an appropriate volume, then got down to peek into the neighboring booth. There, I discovered a dark figure on his hands and knees peering back at me. Startled, I stood up, feeling like a monkey who had discovered a mirror in his cage. I almost bolted, but something stopped me, and, heart pounding, I lowered my pants and knelt down where he could see me. He watched for a long while before he slowly slid his fingers beneath the wall.

“Come here,” he whispered through the opening. “Come here.”

I felt possessed edging forward along the floor until his spidery fingers finally grasped me. He touched me with tremendous care, stroking me slowly and hyper-deliberately, as if measuring my dick or performing some kind of examination of my erection. My head swam as his hand traveled its length over and over again.

For a moment, it was as if a black cloth had been dropped over my mind. My eyes were closed. I knew I was at the arcade, but I didn’t feel like I was inside of anything. The hand pulled and pulled, and I rested my head against the wall separating us. Gradually, I felt everything begin to rush, all the feeling in my body focused on that one point like the tip of a tornado.

The feeling grew and shifted, and as I drew closer to coming, the whirlwind moved into my chest, where a panic rose. In an instant I found myself pulled from the hold of the spider fingers. Frantic with anxiety like a drug released into my blood, I buttoned my pants, and pushed into the dark hallway and beyond into the main room. I stood catching my breath and leaking into my pants at my usual post, barely bothering to make a show of pretending to look at DVDs. A few men exited the hallway at intervals, each of them glancing up at me as they passed. I couldn’t even guess which of them had touched me.

Later, I’d instruct myself to memorize everyone’s shoes so I’d be able to know who was who at all times, but it was easy to forget to look at them, and even when I remembered to look, it was easy to forget who was wearing what.