'Yeah? Who do you know?'
'I did a favor for a guy once.'
'Uh huh. Say, where'd you get the beautiful body?'
'What?'
'I said, where'd you get that beautiful body? Looks like it was sculptured by Michelangelo.'
Sean chuckled and let himself down onto the couch. 'I didn't think it was much of anything anymore. In the last few years a lot of muscles have gone to pot.' He poked his biceps. 'These have gone down like somebody stuck a pin in them.' Andrea lit up another joint and passed it to him. His head was light already and everything in the room seemed to have moved back three paces. 'I used to be a swimmer.'
Ha. The torpedo shape. She'd just about guessed it. 'High school? College?'
'Prep school. And before. I was one of these child wonders-you know, AAU meets when I was thirteen. By the time college came along I was swum out Decided to play lacrosse instead.'
'You were a good swimmer?'
'Yeah… I guess so. I was undefeated my senior year in prep right through the Easterns. Took 3 firsts. Broke some records. The college coach was pissed as hell when I didn't come out. Told me I was Olympic material.'
'Were you?'
'I suppose. But you just have to give up too much to make it to the Olympics. What the hell, I made Ail- American in lacrosse, and it was a hell of a lot more fun than swimming up and down a pool six hours a day competing against a stopwatch.'
The conversation sputtered into silence as Sean regarded Andrea's wistful green eyes through a haze of pungent smoke. She turned sideways on the couch and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her thighs and clutching the outsides of her legs to keep her knees pressed tightly against her breasts. Her eyes drifted up to the ceiling and fixed there as though she was taking in some weird fantasy show playing on the white plaster.
'This is some damned nice dope,' Sean mused absently. 'Hey, do you mind if I put on a record?'
'No, man, go ahead.' Andrea's lips looked as though they were being moved by remote control from far away. 'Something mellow, though. And no downers. The dope is Mexican. Supposed to be Gold. Looks sort of gold. All tops, too. The only thing about it is it hits you in the head like a hammer. Too heavy if you have anything important to do. Like, I can't perform on it'
'How about the Dead?'
'They could perform on it.'
'No, I mean for a record.'
'Sure. Perfect.'
'Side with Sugar Magnolia ok?'
'California mindlessness. Yeah, I could use that.'
'What else could you use?' Sean clicked a switch and the record fell with a splat onto the turntable. He waited a second to adjust the volume.
'That's a suggestive remark.'
'When you asked me how many times I could come I assumed you had an interest in a number greater than one.'
Andrea laughed smugly and blinked once or twice, indicating she was awakening partially from her trance.
'So how about number two right now?'
'May as well get it in before the food arrives.'
'Ugh… that was terrible.'
'Shall we go into the bedroom?'
'Sure.'
Sean turned the stereo up and followed Andrea's daintily vibrating buttocks down a wide wood-paneled hall and through a heavy oak door beneath a stained-glass transom. The apartment was posh throughout and furnished with a somber elegance that made Sean suspect Andrea hadn't decorated it herself. The rent had to be high. At least $500. Andrea was doing ok but she was hardly the kind of star who could pay for a place like this. Maybe she'd inherited money. Or maybe the place was a loan from a rich relation.
'It's funny,' Sean mused as Andrea pulled down the antique crocheted bed-spread and lounged languidly across pale yellow sheets. 'Suddenly I just had this bizarre feeling… like you and I have been married for ten years.'
'Shit, don't say that,' Andrea chided. 'You'll scare the piss out of me.'
'All over your clean sheets, too. No, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure as hell not looking for any wives, and you're not in the market for a husband, either, right?'
'Right as rain.' At this Andrea spread out most invitingly on her back.
'What I meant was, I feel very relaxed with you. We don't have to play any games. You have no idea how much easier things are for a man when he meets a chick like you-a chick who digs sex as much as he does and admits it It's like-your body is just there. I don't have to sit up and beg like a puppy-dog to get a piece of it.'
'Boy are you stoned.' Andrea eyed him with amusement as he sat down on the bed. 'I have one idea what it does for a man when he meets a woman like me.'
'What?'
'Makes him full of hot air.'
Sean dove on her laughing and they tussled among the bedclothes until the sensuality of skin rubbing against skin got to be too much for them.
'Oho!' Andrea exclaimed as she felt Sean's rod stiffen between his legs. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around it 'I think we're coming up with something!'
'Ok, wise girl,' he breathed, straddling her and pinning her down, 'how do you want it?'
Her features tightened and a hungry look came into her eyes. 'This'll do just fine, baby.' She spread her legs and drew her knees up and reached down to spread herself open. 'You got something that'll fit in there?'
Sean let go of her shoulders and leaned back to gaze down at her yawning hole. It was wet and hot and aching for it. He grabbed his rod and waved at her. 'How about this? Think it'll fit?'
Andrea was getting eager. 'Yeah, yeah, that looks just fine. Let's try it on for size.'
Sean turned it down and rubbed its tip teasingly across her clit. She winced with pleasure and closed her eyes. Her hips shoved up and her fingers spread her hole still wider. She lunged forward, trying to snare the tip of his cock with the grasping trap of her cunt. 'Come on,' she whispered hoarsely, 'give it to me! I'm ready!'
Sean smiled down at her and let the head of his weapon wander down the slippery valley of her slit toward her hole… with maddening deliberation.
Andrea was getting impatient. The demanding emptiness inside her was like a dull pain. And yet it was delicious.
It was getting closer. That hot cock was getting closer. It was a big blind water buffalo seeking a mud-hole on a blazing hot day. And it was onto the scent.
But it lumbered so slowly.
'Come on! Fuck me, Dammit!' She was laughing and crying and thrashing and throwing her tits back and forth on her chest.
Sean slammed it home all at once.
'Ooomph! Agh!' Andrea groaned as though she'd taken a hard punch to the stomach.
Then there was nothing but that glowing poker squirming inside her, filling her with radiant warmth, that thing that had no job in life but to please a pussy. She grabbed it with all the power her belly and thighs and buttocks could muster.
The world was upside-down and she was riding a horse. She had the saddle-horn up her cunt and her clit was bouncing against the polished brown leather at its base. From up above the shocks of her mount's hooves sent jarring fragments of fuzzy yellow fire jolting through her. This was a ride she'd never forget.
Sean got right into her rhythm.
Unh… Unh… Unh… Unh… Unh…
He could feel her about to come in a rush.
