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Show J9S she leaned down to kiss my brow. Oh, Rite. I cried out, and helped her redirect her lips to my lips. That released something in both of us and she kissed me and pressed her face against mine, while I kissed her back with tears and feeling, smelling the slight, unfamiliar but good smell of whiskey on her breath, so good that I wanted to taste her, taste her; and smelling even more her dark hair which came tumbling down upon my face like wild abandonment. The^ract of her body perched on the edge of my bed roused me so that I strained toward her to embrace her more closely, feeling her waist through her thin cotton pajamas, and in the process I nudged her enough so that she began to slip off the bed. Reaching out to catch herself, her hand fell upon my erection. She thumped on the floor on her butt and sat there, both of us frozen, no movement, no words. Her hand had not flown instantly away at the touch, she no skittish virgin, but instead had paused for solid verification. "Well, weel," she said from her seat on the floor. "You fell," I said, with the guilty, choked laugh of a sex fiend. "Didn't I though." She stood up and looked down on me. I moved over so that she could sit down on a wider base. /^ "You hypocrite.'" "What?" I had wanteds' sympathy more than anything, touching and caring, not sex, so where had that damned erection come from? I was as surprised at it as she was, probably more -- though of course underneath our social selves neither of us were surprised at all: she had bent down over me with sweet sympathy, with whiskey-Jflavored kisses, and I had risen in response. But she was stiff with fury: "You men. You'd tell a i w i anything.'" "I only --" "Selfish, greedy, egotistical --" "Kite --" "You'd do anything, say anything --" "I only said the truth." |
