My thighs wrap tightly around his neck. His head is between my legs and Im squeezing with all my might. The guys about to get off and this is how he likes it. I dont want an explanation. Extra tight around his neck until he can barely breathe, an extreme head crunch. He turns a dark shade of pink. I squeeze harder; my legs begin to weaken. I dont go to the gym enough. He senses me giving out and whispers that we can take a break, if another half-hours added on. Can I last that long? He stays the extra half and I make it through his happy ending. Its a long Saturday afternoon, the Saturday before Christmas.
Late into autumn, while sitting atop a cold radiator at a second-hand shop in Alphabet City, I had a rare opportunity to interview the rascally and elusive Maya.