
We all have our moment of a first kiss. It's always with someone our heart flutters into our throats and makes us gasp of the moment we remember them by. At least that's what I imagine when I think of a kiss...
It was during the winter two days after Christmas in 1963. I sat in a cold empty theater while the clock stroked passed 2:34 a.m and my master was feeding on the crowd at the 9:00 p.m. showing. Theaters normally don't open that late, but it was a party created by the owner himself to celebrate Steve McQueen. There were 40 people that sat in warm green cushioned seats who all had something similar to each other. Similar brown eyes, similar noses. I realized too late that these people were cousins, aunts, and uncles to the owner. Family. My master dined on an entire family as the movie Love with the Proper Stranger began to replay over and over. I watched the screen pretending I wasn't there. Eventually the movie helped me escape my surroundings by simply vanishing emotionally, as Steve McQueen coming up the stairs of an apartment building while the woman, Natalie Wood rushed all over the apartment trying to make her blouse not too scandalous by adding a pearl necklace around her neck. I almost felt alive. I almost felt that I could be her. (Except my hair has been the color of burnt yellow with hints of dirt and frizz since the 13th Century) That Steve McQueen would be knocking on my door with a nervous way of ringing the door bell and holding a small bouquet of roses.
Natalie opens the door smiling and the first thing Steve see's is her tits bulging out of her blouse as the pearl necklace dances across her endowment. She smiles like she had been cooking this entire time and not trying to look her best while he keeps telling her "Wow...you look like a woman." The whole scene is of him telling her how much she looks like a woman. I don't know why or remember the reason. But I grew jealous. I wanted to look like a woman. Instead I was stuck looking like a teenager for the rest of my life. I wanted a man to look at me that way and say, "Wow Sophia, you look like a woman." He would bring me tulips from Denmark and kiss me with whispered "I love you's"
While the screaming died down there were two other people still alive and paralyzed with fear in the theater. I kept trying to sink in my seat to hide my presence from his victims and realized I missed something from the scene of the movie. He's in the kitchen now and tells Natalie, "You're really something...I mean that...and I just wanted to tell you that." I smile to myself blushing like he had said that to me. Natalie casually brushes it aside like it's nothing, yet I would have melted to the floor in a pool of grins if he or anyone had said that to me. My mind wandered off in imagining that her kitchen was mine. That I had been wearing her black blouse and white pearl necklace. That I had been cooking and waiting for him to take me into his eyes as if I were a woman. A woman of beauty that Aphrodite would be pleased. After my mind wandered and the scent of blood and urine began to stench the theater. I tried imagining the scent of Steve McQueen. The scent of aftershave and french cologne I'm sure he never wore but couldn't help pretending. Then the moment I always love is the moment Steve McQueen sets himself on the coach and beckons Natalie forward into a kiss. It starts of sweet and gentle, then firmer letting me melt in imagining him kissing me. I could almost see it. I could feel his lips warm and inviting, smooth and firm like his hands wrapped around my waist and shoulders. Kissing me into his heart and telling me with his eyes that he would always love me...
The screams stopped as my master whiped urine off his shoes with a woman's pink blouse stained with blood. His hooked nose and long black hair gave me the signal that we were leaving. I followed and longed to see what happened next. Did he make love to Natalie? My master grabbed my hand and jerked me awake. "They are gone now, Sophia. We must leave." I looked at him lost, wondering where my Steve McQueen had gone. "Sophia, do not look around for you will not sleep a fortnight."
Instead of Steve McQueen and Natalie Wood I saw corpses sprawled across the floor and green cushioned chairs. Drained of happiness, of life...of blood. He drained them dry, all 40 of them. There was a woman with a beautiful white fur coat and long blond hair with Botticelli curls. She stared at me with dead eyes as if she were hurt that he took her future away. Her chance at a wedding, her chance with children. I stared at her for just a moment hearing the quote, "Wow...you look like a woman," she was worthwhile for Steve McQueen...


