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sunshinemiss -> RE: BOUNTY'S coffee shop (2/11/2008 12:08:29 AM)
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the taxman cometh.... sad but true.... All that time in South America, making little to no money, my savings were dwindling as I paid my student loans and a new year was rolling around.
Surfing the net, I was desperate to find a place in South America that could pay US student loans AND living expenses, but it was no good. The highest salary per month didn't even cover the student loan payment. So, what's a girl to do? The choices were Korea or The Middle East...
Offered a job in the Middle East, I asked if I could talk to men while I was there. And they said not while at work. And I'd have to cover my head. I thought I would just DIE if I couldn't talk to a man... so I sat down and I thought and I thought and I thought some more. And then I danced... There is always an answer in dancing.
I went to bed after saying good night to my lover, the bouncer at the club. One last dance with one of the musicians who tried to kiss me, but I shied away from his advances and snuck out the back way to fall asleep in my tiny bed and await my amorcito.
*Just for Bounty:
The next morning I rolled over, and looked at my new boyfriend, Miguel... Tall and handsome. His dark skin a sharp contrast to my own pale, creamy white. My body ached from the thrashing he had given me the night before. He had come in, slammed the door, with me against it. There were no clothes to rip off because I didn't wear them, but he pulled the covers to the floor and shoved me down. His hand was like fire on my ass as he spanked me for flirting with the musician. He was angry as only a fiery man can be. "You are mine," he said over and over in Spanish. And with that he showed me that it was true. He bit my neck until I saw stars and pummeled into my body so that all I could see were the tattoos on his arms and his long, black hair against my face as he rode me from behind and beat me while he took me. Over and over he slapped me, ripping me open... taking what was his. His sweat dripping onto my back, his hand on my throat, I thought there was no end to his passion until he pulled my hair, slapping my breasts pink and then red and came in me with a roar that woke the entire house.
We were still then, the two of us... me with just the tiniest trickle of blood where his nails had scraped me and bruises that ran from my thighs across my cheeks and little red circles around my neck.
"I have to leave your country, my love," I whispered to him. "Yo se" he replied. He knew. That was where the pain came from he told me later. He hated to see me leave. I looked at him - desperately handsome and nearly half my age, knowing that within hours of my leaving there would be another woman in his arms and in his bed. Despite this, I knew I would be sad. And I reached up and kissed him gently, smelling my body on his, the smell of sex and desire filling the air.
And with a heavy heart, I bought a ticket home to see my family... to meet one more sister... to buy a Korean-English dictionary.... and to go on...
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