“And how do you feel now?”
“We’re talking, aren’t we?” she says.
“We are.”
“It’s silly to play little games,” she says. “We’re adults: we know the moves and what needs to be done. Do you get what I mean?” She adds, “I’d like to see you again. If you don’t want to see me, tell me.”
“I’m attracted to you too,” I say, “but—”
“Is it Tasha?”
I don’t know.
“You’re not married to her anymore,” Sheila says.
“No.”
“And I don’t think you two get along all that well.”
“Maybe that’s it.”
“Tasha’s a big girl. She can handle it. And does anyone have to know?”
“They’ll find out.”
“Do you think I’d tell?”
“Would you?”
She laughs softly, “Well, I just might.”
Pause.
“So,” she says.
“So,” I say.
She says, “Here we are.”
Pause.
“Leonard,” she asks, “do you want to know something?”
“What?”
“I’m lying on my bed right now,” she says, “and I’m naked under my robe. I’m touching myself.”
Chapter 24…
“I’m touching myself,” she says, “but I’m thinking of you, thinking of your hands touching me. Thinking about this gets me hot.”
“Where are you touching yourself?”
Her voice lowers. “Where do you think, you fool?”
“I can think of several places.”
“My robe is partially opened,” she says. “My legs are open. I’m touching my legs, my upper legs, my thighs. And I’m slowly getting to the gold, the good stuff. You know the good stuff, baby; you had some tonight.”
I can smell it.
“But this could be you touching me,” she says. “This should be you touching me, right here, right now, tonight, this night, this hot night. Your hands or tongue, moving up, making me happy, making me go into a frenzy.” She breathes heavily. “It feels good,” she says.
“I know,” I say.
“Lightly, I’m touching my pussy,” she says. “I’m touching the lips of my pussy and already I’m wet and wanting you.”
“Tell me more.”
“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.”
“Tell me anything,” I say. “Tell me everything.”
“I’m thinking of putting a finger in my pussy.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I will if you want me to.”
I say, “I want you to.”
She says, “Why don’t you take my hand, take it and put it there, make me put my finger in.”
“I would if I was there.”
She says, “You are here.”
“I’m grabbing your hand and pressing it to your cunt,” I say, “and making you put a finger, a long finger, deep into your cunt.”
A sigh and then, “It’s in, my finger’s in.”
“Move it in and out.”
“I’m doing it…and it feels so good.” She says, “Kiss me, Leonard.”
“I kiss you,” I say. “I am kissing you.”
“Our tongues touch.”
“You want to put two fingers in your cunt; you’re thinking about it.”
“I want to, yes.”
“Do it.”
“Help me.”
“I am, can’t you feel it?”
“Yes,” she hisses. “I have two fingers in my pussy and it feels so, so good.”
I say, “I’d like to put my mouth down there, taste you as you touch yourself.”
“Then do it,” she says. “Do you think I’d stop you? You can do whatever you want. I won’t stop you. I’m giving myself up to you.”
“Would you let me hurt you if I wanted to?”
“Do you want to hurt me?”
Pause.
“My mouth is at your cunt,” I tell her, “and I lick, lightly, and I’m tasting your cunt and your fingers.”
“I put one of my fingers into your mouth.”
“I like that.”
“Suck on it.”
“I am; I’m sucking on that finger like I want to suck on your clit.”
“Are you hard?” she asks.
Pause.
“Yes.”
“You’re hard and I’m wet,” she says, “and we’re both turned on and what will we do about this, lover?”
“I’m going to your clit,” I say to her, “and I’m sucking on it.”
“Not too hard.”
“No.”
“I like that.”
“I want you to come.”
“Oh, I’ll come,” she says softly, “but I want you to do the same. Maybe come with me, baby. Your dick is hard. Do you have it out? Are you playing with it like I’m playing with myself?”
“Take it out,” I say. “Take it out and put it in your mouth.”
“Do you want me on my knees?”
“I want you any way possible.”
“I take your hard cock and hold it in my hand. With my other hand, I rub your balls.”
“I move the tip of it to your lips.”
“I open my mouth and take it,” she says, “I suck on your hard prick. It’s hot in my mouth.”
“Yes,” I say.
“Are you going to come in my mouth?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I want to taste you,” she says. “I want you inside me, all over and inside me. I want you to come everywhere, come all night. We can both come all night, because we have all night. When we’re together, things are nice; together we’re shielded and safe.”
Chapter 25…
I lie in my bed, thinking I shouldn’t be here. My body is clean; I just had a shower. I close my eyes and can’t sleep. I hear Sheila’s voice in my head, then Veronica’s; I want them both to go away.
The phone rings. I reach for it.
“Hello.”
“I had to call.”
“I know.”
“You knew I was going to call.”
“Sooner or later,” I tell my ex-wife, “I knew you would. It was in the air tonight.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be calling.”
“I was just thinking of you.”
She says, “Why are you lying to me?”
“The truth. I was thinking of you, and I was thinking of a lot of other things. You know what I was really thinking about?”
“What?”
“Your little group,” I say. “You six women. I was thinking how great it is that you get together like that once a week and talk about things. Even with me there, you were all so open and honest. It was refreshing. I was thinking that there should have been someone with you, there should have been a seventh woman in your group. Veronica should’ve been there. If she’d had such a group—”
“Yes, I know,” she says.
I say, “I was thinking that Veronica would have gotten a kick out of Amelia’s wild stories. Amelia doesn’t really believe all that crap, does she?”
“Amelia needs some help before it gets worse,” Tasha says. “Wasn’t it obvious to you what she was really saying?”
“No.”
“And you call yourself a private eye! She told us about that guy, David, right? Well, he’s the one who got her pregnant. I don’t know if she really lived with David and his wife, maybe she did, but she’s never been able to face the truth about it. She was pregnant by a married man and the child was a still-birth.”
“Jesus.”
“So instead of dealing with the matter realistically, she makes up some crazy story about an alien and a spaceship and that her baby is really on some other planet. So she doesn’t have to feel the pain,” Tasha says. “Besides, it’s easier to talk about. Bullshit makes us cowards.”
“I see what you mean,” I say.
“She does need to see someone who can help her. The girls and I were going to bring this up to her soon. We were going to bring it up tonight, but you were there so maybe it’ll be next week—”