Mental Meanderings

The Mental Meanderings of a Black Leather Coat,
A companion tale to Once Upon a Temptation, from the jacket's point of view

Setting: The day of the Pizza Pete's date

~#########~

These are my favorite days of the year, those chilly, wintery, sunny days of late December in New York City. Why? It's perfect weather for a black leather jacket. And I get to come out of the closet just about every day.

I know what you're thinking now. Oh, he's one of those gay black leather types, and, NO. I just literally can't stand being in that dark closet day in and day out. Think about it, there are only about ninety days most years that my particular heft is appropriate for the City. Back out of that number anything with precipitation, and, well, it's a sad percentage of the year that I get any view other than the inside slats of the closet door and the occasional glimpse of Alexander as he makes his daily choice.

So I could not be any happier this afternoon when lunch hour rolls around. Alexander and I traipse merrily through the streets of the City, all decked out in its Christmas glory. The air is ripe with the sounds of ringing bells, the hot breath of horses treating tourists to a holiday carriage ride, and the burnt scent of overly roasted chestnuts.

And Alexander is really, really happy today.

I'm wrapped around my guy, and like I said before, I'm not gay, but I do enjoy the feel of a well-constructed pair of shoulders beneath mine. I've been around the block a few times; in fact, I was built back in the sixties, when 'handcrafted' really meant something. I've had other guys inside me before Alexander (fuck, that sounds really gay), and I've always done my best to make each one look his hottest. But the day that Alexander walked into that vintage store in the Village and pulled me on, I knew we were Meant To Be.

We have an arrangement, Alexander and I. He warms my insides with his body heat while my thick leather hide protects him from the bite of the cold. It works. I'm not saying there aren't other coats that don't keep him warmer—take that down number, for instance—but when the temperature's just right, I know I'm his first choice. And those other coats in the closet damn well know it, too. Don't even get me started on that grey pea coat and her jealous streak.

~#########~

Alexander palms the door at Pete's and pushes through. See, there's yet another considerate thing he does for me. Most guys would use their arm to open the door, and that just puts unnecessary wear and tear on my sleeve. So, yeah, this guy's a saint where I'm concerned.

But I digress when there are more important things to mention. There, standing in front of us, is the target of Alexander's affection, one Juliana Crowne. She and I met last week when she picked him up for their lunch date at Mad Max's. I watched the whole thing from the top hook of the coat rack next to their booth. And let me tell you something; you cannot believe two people could even swallow their food with so much sexual tension in the air. I almost felt sorry for the pair of them!

Alexander's never been able to keep his feelings from me. I am perfectly attuned to his heartbeat, his breathing patterns, and his body temperature. I can easily detect the slightest changes in any of his biological rhythms. Not bragging, it's just what I do. So I'm probably the only one who really knows the effect this girl has on him. Alexander's secrets are safe with me. Who am I going to tell? I have no mouth.

Alexander's always had great taste in women. Well, when you can have your pick of the litter, it certainly makes things easier! This one, though, stands head and shoulders above the rest. She is a bee-you-tee-ful girl. I'm talking 5-foot 10-inches of elegance and grace in a red Chanel suit and matching Louboutin pumps. (Hells yeah, I know my designers. I've spent my fair share of time around consignment stores, and I'm an observant fellow.)

This girl radiates the joy of the season, and she perfectly matches the red seat cushions at Pete's. Right down to the flush on her cheeks as she takes in Alexander and me. Shoo-eee, what a looker! Gorgeous blue eyes…oh,hey, I can see myself! She's looking right at me!

I try to stand a little taller, look both softer and more manly at the same time. But really, I can't make a move without Alexander and he knows it. Sigh, she's not really looking at me, I have to admit. She's looking at Alexander; I recognize that gaze. He has that effect on women. And a bunch of men, too.

I know my place in this vignette; I'm the faithful sidekick. Not that I wanted the role of fairy godmother, but that's already taken by his friend Colt (speaking of men who have a thing for my human). No, I'm left with the ungodly choice of singing mice or swooning bluebirds. No fucking thank you, Walt Disney.

My mind races to identify a well-respected wingman. Chewbacca, Butthead, Woodstock, Ernie, Robin (shit, I am gay), Mini-Me, Pokey… Fuck, aren't there any super hot sidekicks? Tonto, Watson, Spock, Boo Boo, Hobbes, Chong…

I've got it! Kato! Kato is a kick ass sidekick, and the Green Hornet never would've made it without him. And it's also a really cool anagram of coat, well, with a 'k'.

I'm snapped out of my reverie by Alexander's fingers on my zipper. He unclenches my teeth impatiently today, and I'm frankly a little breathless by the time he uncouples the ends. Okay, so maybe I'm a little gay. But just for Alexander. I really love the guy.

"Hungry?" she asks him, in lieu of a proper greeting. Even I can see she's awkward, and I'm just a coat.

"Always," he answers with a seductive twang. Oh yeah, he's the Master. Lady, just give up now.

~##########~

HEY! Wait! You're just gonna leave me here around this chair while you two cavort over there at the counter? Dang, being an inanimate object truly sucks sometimes. But all is forgiven when they return, and Alexander is grinning from ear to ear.

He seats himself right in front of me. 'Um, down in front, Buddy!' I want to see the girl. Or at least you. This view of your back is most unsatisfying. Well, at least I can still hear what's going on.

"And are you?" His voice is lower and sexier than I've heard it in a while. Damn, Alexander!

"Am I what?" the puddle of goo answers.

"Ready for the ball?"

"Yes. I've got my dress, shoes, beauty appointments…" Blah, blah, blah. It's hard work being beautiful.

Tell us something we don't know.

"It's so much easier to be a guy." Oh, Alexander is laying on the empathy.

"Tell me about it." Hook, line, and sinker.

~########~

"I think someone might have a little crush on her Santa," he teases.

"I don't know about that, but the system glitch certainly provided me with an incredibly generous benefactor." I roll my eyes at her attempt to impress him with her big words. Alexander couldn't care less about that kind of-

"How fortuitous for both of us then." Fortuitous? "It allowed me to meet you," he explains further.

What's wrong, lady? You don't know what fortuitous means? 'Fortuitous, adjective, happening by chance, especially giving rise to a fortunate outcome.'

She doesn't talk much. No wonder he's attracted to her. Alexander does not like girls who don't know when to hold their tongues.

"By the way, your boyfriend thinks I'm gay."

What the fuck, dude? Why would you plant that seed? For the first time, ever, I have to question whether he's falling off his game.

~########~

She definitely wasn't expecting that, I deduce from the choking and gagging that ensues. Alexander offers his napkin. Swoon, such a gentleman.

Ya da, ya da, Colt, his very gay friend.

"This might be a good time for you to share your guilty pleasures," she says in an accusing tone that Alexander does not appreciate one bit. I feel his body temperature rise two degrees and he slumps back against his chair.

Umphhh! Jeezubs, How about some warning, buddy?

"You disappoint me. I was under the false impression that you understood me." Oh fuck, lady, you are in so much trouble now. Nobody disappoints my Alexander and lives to tell the tale.

"I'm sorry," she whines. "I didn't mean-"

"Don't!" His whole being radiates anger but he's fighting to keep his cool. Control those emotions, Boss. Remember, we've worked on this before. Oh shit, not the scarf!

Wait, what just happened? All I can see is his ass as he bends over to say something into her ear. Oh yum. Damn, distracted me again.

I catch a glimpse of her face. Oh honey, you are so fucked. Now, you have roused The Master. You have no idea what this guy can do to you. Trust me, I've seen him in action. Well, I mean, from a distance. Okay, usually I'm locked away in the closet.

Wait! Where are you going? DON'T LEAVE ME HERE! Aaaalexaaaaaanderrrrrr! Damn, what I wouldn't do for a mouth right now!

Crap. I slink back down on to the chair back, defeated and abandoned.

Looks like it's back to the vintage store, or the orphanage, as we like to call it. Damn, I liked that guy. A lot. Okay, so I have a crush. I'm not proud. Christ, I'm a coat for God's sake. What do I need with pride?

I'm so busy feeling sorry for myself I don't notice she's eyeing me now. Just me.

Take that, Alexander! I know I'm feeling petulant, but how could he just leave me here?

Oh, gee lady, your fingers are so soft. Yes, caress me. Mmmmm.

Pick me up, I will her. Put me on. It's been such a long time since my lining has been wrapped around a girl, I've almost forgotten how nice they feel. Almost.

She lifts me gingerly by the shoulders and starts to fold me over her arm. Oh well, I sigh, beating down my disappointment. The impersonal arm carry. At least I won't live out the rest of my life draped around this open-scroll tubular steel bistro chair circa 1968. And maybe I'll even get to see Alexander again.

Thinking better of it, she lifts me to her cheek and I caress her softly with my supple leather. She inhales deeply, breathing in my own masculinity as well as the virile scent of Alexander that has grown to be a part of me. Her eyelashes flutter against my supple skin, and her decision is made.

She spins me around her back and pushes her slender arms through my long tunnel sleeves. She's skinnier than I’m used to, but her hands still poke out the cuffs. Something is tickling me. It's that silky green scarf she was wearing. Damn, I hate accessories. Necklaces, belts, scarves, they all get in the way. I don't like anything coming between me and my person.

She pulls her long brown silky hair out of my collar and spills it over my back, sliding against the leather. Mmm, dang that hair smells yummy. And her perfume…Eau de Fuck-Me-Six-Ways-Till-Sunday. Gah, I hope she leaves some of that behind so I can enjoy it later.

I'm way too long on her, so my waistband hits beyond her bottom, cupping her sweet ass in a way that every guy in this place wishes he could. Eat your hearts out, humans.

Now, her own coat gets the fold-over treatment. Hah! What do you have to say now, you camel-haired snob?

Outside, she ignores the zipper and tucks herself fully inside me, folding me tightly against her and sealing out the December chill. As we walk, she rubs her hands up and down my arms now and then, warming both of us.

I offer her all I have and soothe her as best I can. I'm only a coat, after all.

In the elevator, she eases up her tight grasp of me, and I fall away reluctantly, opening down the front. Her finger presses 'B' and I squee inside.

Alexander.

This girl's nice and all, and it was fun to have her softness inside for a while, but I can't live without the Green Hornet.

He's clearly not in the office, but there's Sam at his desk, "working hard" on ESPN dot com. I don't mind the guy, but I hate it when he punches us in the arm. That shit hurts. Can't you just hug, dude?

I see Her Bitchiness Clarissa behind her glass window, her beady eyes following every step we make. She doesn't miss a detail of Juliana shrugging me off her shoulders and arranging me carefully around Alexander's chair. Clarissa scowls miserably.

Ahhhhhhh. Home Sweet Home.

Clarissa gives me one last loving caress across my shoulders before swiveling Alexander's chair back to the monitor. The screen is dark. Nothing exciting will happen until Alexander returns from lunch. Can't wait to see his face when he finds me here!

~########~

"Hey, old friend. You made it back!" he winks, wide smile spreading across his face. I get the eerie feeling he didn't expect me to be here when he returned.

He gives me an extra long stare and a tender squeeze at the shoulder. Shit, Alexander, your hand is freezing! I have a flash of resentment that he abandoned me at Pete's, but I can't stay mad at him. He's Alexander. I know he didn't mean it.

Our tender reunion is interrupted by the strident demand of Cruella de IT. "Why is Juliana Crowne delivering your jacket down here?" None of your fucking business, that's why.

Alexander gives her a puzzled look and shrugs his shoulders. With that, he pulls out his chair and sinks comfortably into his seat. Seeing she's not getting anything further, Clarissa growls and heads back behind the glass partition.

Alexander's back to normal after a while, the chill finally leaving his bones. Soon enough, it's time to head out. He logs off and shuts everything down. Alexander always shows great respect for the inanimate objects in his life. It's one reason we all love him so much.

He doesn't have any work to bring home tonight, so it's just Alexander and me in the elevator. Along with the other twenty-five drones clocking out for the night. It's crowded and hot in here so he doesn't reach for my zipper until the doors open again and we all spill into the lobby.

Watch it, Alexander! Big blond guy twelve o'clock, and…oh, hey, isn't that Juliana?

Fortunately, he senses their presence in time to not collide with them. That can be so embarrassing…and painful.

"Oh, hey. Weren't you at the tux shop earlier?" the blond dude says. His jacket is brown, I notice. It's a decent grade of leather, a nice Italian cut—most likely custom—and it works for him. Hey, not everyone can pull off black, and I can admire a guy's ability to live within his range.

Alexander totally ignores his question and addresses the lady, as if all the drama at lunch never took place. This guy is so fucking cool. A cucumber's got nothing on him.

"Hello, Juliana." It's that low voice again. I get the tingles.

"Alexander. Hi," she blushes and trips over her words. "Meet Beauregard Light, VP of Sales. Alexander Knight, IT." How about, 'Alexander Knight, the guy who tied me up over pizza today'?

Beau and Alexander shake hands. "Nice to meet you, Alexander."

"Likewise," he answers. "Well, have a good evening." Like a cucumber. We turn our backs on the couple, leaving them drowning in the wake of Alexander's casual intrusion.

Alexander clicks my zipper ends together and gives it a tug upwards. His heartbeat skips for a second and he pulls the lapel over his nose. I realize Alexander's just gotten a whiff of the girl, her scent standing out above his own familiar musk and the greasy goodness of Pete's.

Satisfied and happy again, we journey home together, each of us lost in contemplation of the many successes of our adventurous day.