After Midnight

As he came back at me, I tore the bra off, myself, and threw it to the floor. “Take me to your bedroom,” I gasped.

He grabbed my arm, but I pulled free.

He looked confused.

“My God, do I have to draw you a picture?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“Pretend it’s a game.”

“But…”

I whirled around and ran from him.

Instead of coming after me, he went hunting for his glasses. So I stopped. With my back to him, I quickly slipped a hand down my skirt and plucked the cassette out of my panties. It was wet and slippery.

What’ll I do with it?

My purse was on the couch, all the way across the room. No way of getting there without Murphy seeing me and wondering what I was up to.

I had no idea where to hide the cassette, so I kept it in my hand. I wiped it against the back of my skirt as I turned to face Murphy again.

He didn’t seem to know where his glasses had landed after I’d knocked them off his face.

“There on the table,” I said, pointing.

“Ah.” He found them, picked them up, checked them out, and put them on his face. “Thanks,” he said.

“Now come and get it,” I blurted, and ran.

This time, he chased me.

All right!

He probably could’ve caught me if he’d tried, but he stayed a stride or two back. I made straight for the doorway of his bedroom and lunged through it.

Murphy close on my heels, I raced across the floor and leaped onto his bed.

Luckily, his curtains were shut.

I stopped in the middle of his springy mattress. Bouncing, I turned around to face him.

He stopped at the foot of the bed and gaped up at me, his face strange with perplexity and delight.

“What’re you staring at, big guy?”

He didn’t answer, just watched.

Even though I wasn’t bouncing very hard, my breasts were flying around like crazy. And he was gazing at them as if mezmerized by how they jumped and lurched.

“What’re you gonna do now, hotshot?” I asked. “Just gonna stand there gaping at my boobs?”

Bending over, he reached out and grabbed my ankles and pulled.

I let out a squeal and landed on my back.

He jerked my ankles wide apart. My left leg came out of the slit in my skirt, and was bare all the way up to my hip. “How’s that?” he gasped.

“Shut up and fuck me,” I said.

34

THE ART OF SEDUCTION

Off came his Bear Whizz Beer T-shirt. He pulled it up his torso and over his head. While his eyes were behind the T-shirt, I stuffed the cassette tape underneath the pillow.

As he tossed the shirt aside, I braced myself up on my elbows so I could see him better.

He was slim and nicely built, and had a good tan.

Still in his shorts, he planted a knee on the mattress and got ready to climb up.

“Why don’t you get rid of the shorts?” I said.

“Huh?” he asked.

“And how come you’re wearing swimming trunks? You don’t even have a pool.”

“They’re comfortable.”

“Well, take them off.”

More flustered than usual, he said, “I don’t…I’m not wearing any…you know, underwear.”

“Good. Take off the trunks and get up here.”

“You gonna look?”

“Of course I’m gonna look.”

“Do you have to?” he asked.

“You’re some rapist.”

“I’m not a rapist.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“No,” he said. “It’s just that…we hardly even know each other.”

“You’ve already seen plenty of me,” I informed him. “And you’re about to see the rest. So let’s have a look at you.”

“Well…”

“When do you plan to stop blushing?”

“Sometime next year, I should imagine.” Bending over, he pulled down his trunks. When he stood up straight, they were out of sight. “There,” he said.

“Wow,” I said.

He gave me a twitchy, embarrassed smile.

“Get up here,” I said.

“Just a second, I’d better grab a condom.”

“No, don’t. You’re raping me. I need your semen for evidence. You can’t use a rubber.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“It’s the whole point.”

He looked hurt.

So I said, “Well, it was the whole point, anyway. Before you got me all worked up like this.” Squirming a little and staring him in the eyes, I undid both the buttons that held my skirt together at the hip. I spread the skirt open. I still had my panties on, but nothing else. There was about as much to my panties as a pirate’s eyepatch. The band and patch were red like my bra. “I’ve still gotta have the evidence,” I explained.

He gaped at me for a while, his mouth hanging open. Then he said, “We really need to use protection.”

“I won’t get pregnant. You don’t have to worry about that. I just finished my period.” A fib, but so what?

You should’ve seen him go red. Guys really hate to hear about your period. Normal guys, anyway. Perverts are a different story. I knew this pervert named Jack, and he used to keep track of my time of the month so he could…Never mind. I can’t tell every story I know, or you’d never find out what happened between me and Murphy. Anyway, believe me, you don’t want to know about Jack. He was mental.

Murphy, still on the subject of condoms, said, “It’s not just about you getting pregnant.”

“I know. You’re worried about diseases.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any?” I asked.

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

“I still think we’d better…”

“Don’t you believe me?” I asked. “You think I’m lying?”

“You might be. Hell, you’re afraid I’ll turn you in the minute I get alone. Why can’t I be afraid you’ll give me AIDS and kill me?”