The Black Train

Evil Voice: It’s bullshit, buddy! Just stoke her up some more!

He squeezed her hand. “Now it’s my turn to be blunt. I’m so fuckin’ crazy about you I could howl at the moon.”

Her face looked childlike when she laughed. Then that expression of seriousness-merged-with-frustration drained back to her eyes. “I don’t want you to think I’m a teasing bitch—”

“I don’t.”

Evil Voice: Not only are you a teasing bitch, you’re a teasing bitch who’s about to get serious blocks put to you…

“It’s a hell of a lot to ask of a guy,” she admitted, “even a hard-core Christian.”

“I’m not a hard-core Christian, but I’ve got it covered.”

“And for God’s sake, I don’t expect you or anyone to live by my personal spiritual standards. It’s just my thing.”

“Just trust me,” he whispered into her neck. They kissed some more. Collier was so intent on her that he wasn’t sure what he planned, and he had no idea how closely he’d been listening to his own dark side. He whispered, “Is this too much?” and lowered his mouth to her waist and teased her navel with his tongue. He licked a ring around it, then daintily pressed his tongue in and sucked.

Well…she didn’t say no…

He sucked harder, and was overjoyed by the way she flexed, squirmed, and moaned. Her hands came to his head; he expected her to push him off but it didn’t happen.

He was also getting away with his right hand half cupping a buttock, which squirmed and tremored as well. And again, “Is this too much?” before his tongue slowly licked a line straight up her several inches of bare stomach to the bottom of the cami but when he tried to hook his tongue beneath the hem, her hands nudged him off a moment and replaced his mouth back on the fabric. Collier continued to move up…

Testing more boundaries, he knew. His lips roved over the meager fabric that covered her breasts, and he replaced his hand over her belly, one pinkie returning to its previous position an inch beneath the waistband.

Her skin felt so hot now, and shedding sweat. The pinkie roved in the sweat but when he tried to slide it down another half inch, her hand pulled it back.

The bitch is still playing with you. Once you start sucking her tit through that cheesecloth tramp-wear she’s got on, she won’t stop you then, brother…

Collier wondered. But she allowed his mouth to proceed farther up the bottom of her breast. His lips felt sensitive as a stethoscope; they could detect the swelling heat, the racing pulse.

Keep going… But were they his words, or his id’s?

Collier’s mouth kept creeping up. Through the corner of his eye, he spotted an elderly couple walking by, but even in the dark he could see their eyes wide in shock. To hell with ’em, he thought. They hurried by.

At last, Collier’s lips found the very distended nipple, and began to slowly suck it through the cotton top.

Her back bowed, and she huffed in a breath.

But she didn’t stop him.

She’s all yours now. You just turned her stiff Christian starch into pudding…

Was Collier listening?

He sucked more fervently, and precisely; her breast was a pulsing bag of excited nerves and hot blood. When Collier took his mouth off, he could see how he’d sucked a dark, wet circle into the fabric, her inflamed papilla standing hard. In the next blink, he switched to the other nipple and began to suck even harder.

Dominique’s hands fisted in his hair. She was breathing through her teeth, inhaling her next words: “Oh, shit, I can’t believe how good that feels…”

That’s when Collier’s hand slipped between her legs and let his middle finger dip into the flooded vaginal groove.

“Damn it!” she yelled and yanked his hand out like someone pulling a snake out of a hole. “I knew it!”

When she jumped off the bench and strode off, Collier was thrown back. “What the hell? Dominique!”

Her heels clacked so loud down the brick street they sounded like a hammer smacking slate. Collier jumped up after her.

“Wait!”

She was walking real fast. Collier had to huff after her.

“What the hell is wrong?”

“I should’ve known!” she seemed to sob and yell at the same time. “It’s always the same. No one gives a shit how someone else feels!”

“What are you talking about?” he pleaded when he finally caught up and grabbed her arm. He wanted to collapse when he saw tears welling in her eyes.

“What, I guess you just thought you’d get me horny enough and I’d decide to fuck you? Right after I just got done telling you I didn’t want to?”

“I-I—”

“Past a certain point all women are just bitches in heat? They’re all asking for it? ‘No’ really means ‘yes’?”

“No-no—”

She turned and resumed her strut.

“Wait! Please!”

When Collier grabbed her arm again, she almost hauled off and hit him. But he had to stop her, he had to find out what had happened.

“Why’d you have to ruin it?” she wailed in the street.

“What? My hand?”

“I told you, no sex, and you said okay!”

“It was just my hand! My finger!”

“That’s just great.” Her glare mixed with heartache. “Let me spell it out. If you put your penis into my vagina, that’s sexual contact. Why? Because my vagina is my sex organ. If you put your mouth on my vagina, that’s sexual contact, because my vagina is my sex organ. So tell me, Justin. If you put your finger in my SEX ORGAN, what is that?”

Collier’s jaw froze open.

Now she was wiping her eyes. “I’m leaving. Good-bye.”

“Wait!”

His shout cracked down the street. He was sure anyone within a block had heard it. Now he was squeezing her arm hard.

Let her go, man, insisted the Evil Voice. She’s the Tease from Hell. Forget about this nutty bitch. Go back to the hotel and use Lottie for an oil change…

Collier was getting sick of that voice. “Listen,” he began.

“Let me go. You’re hurting my arm.”

“At least give me a chance to talk. This isn’t fair at all.”

He released her arm. Now the street stood in total silence, like the silence after a machine-gun volley. He could see several late diners at the bistro craning their necks at them.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t understand—”

“Come on, you were working me—”

He pointed his finger right in her face. “Let me talk, damn it. Give me two minutes, and then you can split and think whatever you want. But I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. You gotta admit, your rules are a little weird.”

“I know they are!” she yelled. “But they’re still my rules, and I explained them to you, and you said that was okay, but five minutes later you’ve got your hand down my—”

“All right!” he yelled just as loud. “I get it! I guess it was my male instincts or something. But you were letting me…do…other stuff, so…”

“So you figured it was okay to stick your finger in my pussy?”