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By Emmanuel Williams

September 11, 2026

Brody had nothing but time ahead of him. On a night that had fallen over a warm metropolis as he approached the train station in front of the library near the shelter he would spend this night and a few more before he found a way out that wasn’t another jail cell. 

There on the platform, he overheard a man talking to a woman who seemed uninterested in saying anything in response. He recognized the man from the shelter, and had a feeling he wanted too much from the girl, who seemed lost and far from home. She gave off the air of one unsure as Brody approached hoping to remedy the situation. He had been known to score over the years simply by being the better man available to other lost damsels in distress.

He had more manners, he was black, smart, and by choice he was as stylishly dressed as he could manage under the poverty-stricken circumstances. Which meant his jeans were always dirty, but they fit well, and his shirts were mostly graphic or plain bold colors.

A short interaction on the platform showed that the girl indeed was lost, but Brody knew the city better than the first man, whom soon the train would come for as Brody escorted her toward the south of the city. As they walked he discovered her name, Hanna. At which his mind raced to scenes from HBO’s Girls, which he was happy to keep to himself and discover the best way to create an opportunity for intimacy. 

They first had to cut through a row of homes that gave way to a park with a fancy fountain at its center, and the most climbable pine trees in the city skirting the edges of its double-block spanning perimeter. Half way through the grass, they had struck up enough banter for Brody to stop her and make a move.

He took her shoulders and kissed her under the branches of the nearest tree, beneath the stars, directly on her pink, slightly thick lips.

She returned his kiss with full reception, grabbing his hips, and caution fell to the wind. He dropped them to their knees, and she pulled him atop of her. There in the middle of apartment buildings and single car garage homes, in the grass of an empty park, they pushed each other’s pants to their shins. 

But nothing of the usual happened. She went down on him first, and Brody’s member felt a breeze beneath her mouth on the head of his shaft, which she licked and mouthed like a cold popsicle. Saliva fell every now and then, as he placed his hand between her legs and felt her moisten as she sucked. He brought her hips over his face, and reached up to spread apart her cheeks. 

The view of it was phenomenal. Pale skin with black specks spread out along it. She was shaven, and her little button protruded eagerly at the bottom of an inverted pyramid; he could see nothing but pink, soft skin, and the close depth of her lined walls. His tongue found her skin and licked as much of the organ as he could reach. She made no note of it. Simply continued licking her popsicle, as he kneaded the meat of her buttocks, excitement high in his heart.

Like Adam and Eve biting the apple of the tree of good and evil, Brody realized they were overexposed in a city park. He stopped Hanna and gently moved her leg over his head, suggesting they eventually get her home.

It turned out to be close to a major city street, and as they opened the unlocked door to her apartment, they fell upon each other on the living room floor. 

They shared intercourse, but soon fell back into the comfortable 69 position from the park, where they remained until the sun rose some hours later.

Brody exited the apartment alone in the morning, unsure of what had just happened beside one of the best sexual occasions he had ever experienced. But he had forgotten his prescription lenses, and returned to the elevator to retrieve them.

Back on Hanna’s floor, he knocked and waited. Then knocked again. A large man answered her door. 

“Is Hanna here?”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and a tragic betrayal nearly made the man cry on the spot. He slammed the door abruptly. And Brody left the building, feeling lost, wounded, and intense sorrow for the part he had played in that strange man’s tears.

He never saw Hanna, never tasted Hanna, never heard of Hanna, ever again.

fin

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