way he filled me, the rasp and pull of his cock along the walls of my sex, the slap of his sack against my tingling vulva, and the wide finger that pressed and pushed my screaming clitoris. My body tightened around his, my pussy squeezing him, sucking at him. He grunted and increased the pace, his hands gripping my hips, trying to steady my body for his assault. He was pounding into me and I was falling forward, my arms trembling, no longer capable of supporting me. I was a mass of tingling nerves. He grunted again, jerked and pulled me back, holding me to him, my rear to his groin. I could feel the rush as he came and came, his body stiff as his penis throbbed and surged forward. My sex vibrated around his, sending an electric wave through my body. I couldn’t move, my arms and face and breasts splayed over a large segment of the play pit. And then he was falling forward, the lower half of my body collapsing beneath his.
I lay there, a mass of tingling nerves, insensate, for I don’t know how long. After a while, Adam slapped my bottom lightly and said, ‘I like fucking you.’ With that, he got up and padded out of the room.
I nodded, but I couldn’t talk just then.
* * *
Lira sat across from me, her legs curled under her. She was sipping a Diet Pepsi from a can. Her dress was in its proper place. The straps were even resting on her shoulders where they were meant to be. She had been watching us. There was a bit of white powder on the end of her nose.
‘What’s your name? I know you said, but I’ve forgotten.’ She stretched her legs and feet out over the large square table that filled the open space in the middle of the pit.
‘Ada,’ I said sitting up and looking around trying to locate my clothes. They were wadded in the pile of clothing near the opening of the pit. We had apparently fucked our way to its centre. I tried scooting back down the cushions towards the clothing, but my bottom was wet and sticky and I didn’t want to smear my juices all over the upholstery so I stood up, feeling quite self-conscious about my nudity when Lira sat across from me clothed.
Adam appeared wearing a dark-red cotton robe. He handed me its twin. I took it gratefully. It was smooth, brushed cotton, and large enough for me to tuck my feet under it when I sat down.
‘Hungry?’ he asked. I looked to Lira. ‘Lira never eats. Chorizo and eggs?’
‘I could eat,’ I admitted.
‘Juice or coffee?’
‘Both.’ He smiled, nodded, and headed into the kitchen.
A blue Miles was floating about the room, the sounds melancholy and strangely cleansing. Lira sipped her Pepsi.
‘Why me?’ I asked.
‘I liked the way you looked at me,’ she said without forethought.
‘How?’
‘Big eyes, dopey.’ She sat her soda can on the table, pulled her knees up and leaned on them, her chin resting on her folded arms, her hands, beautiful and slender, peeking out. The nails were painted the same soft colour as her toes.
‘Dopey?’
‘Adoration. Lovestruck.’
I could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck.
‘Don’t be embarrassed. I’m used to it.’
‘Are you and Adam …?’
‘Not really. We were once. It didn’t work out.’
I felt myself nod at that, like some reporter amassing information.
‘Do you often go with women?’ I asked.
‘Sometimes, but … it’s just that there is no ultimate reward, you know,’ and she pressed her splayed fingers to the silky fabric that concealed her sex to emphasise her point, or lack thereof. ‘But you were good. I enjoyed it with you.’ Was she trying to appease me? ‘Adam enjoyed you too. He came hard, and he’s cooking for you.’
I didn’t say anything. She watched me, quiet. I watched my feet and thought about the last hour.
‘Do you often go with men?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘You seemed to like it.’ Her eyes bore into me.
‘It was probably the coke.’
‘Adam is good. He likes women.’
‘And you? Do you like women?’ I knew I was pressing her, but I had the evidence of her pleasure still glistening on my lips and thighs.
‘Not particularly. I brought you for Adam.’
‘I see.’ What could I to say to that?
Adam was back with a tray heavy with two plates of eggs scrambled with spicy sausage, toast, orange juice and coffee. He pushed Lira’s feet off the table and set the things out. It smelled good, hot buttered bread, pica spices and fresh-brewed coffee.
I dug in. He plopped down on the floor and followed suit. Lira sipped her Pepsi.
‘So, Ada, what do you do?’ Adam asked after swallowing.
‘I sell books.’
‘Books?’ That from Lira. He cast her a shushing look.
‘What kind of books?’ Adam asked.
‘I own a used bookstore.’
‘How long have you owned it?’
‘Nearly five years now. I bought it off a friend. She needed money for medical expenses. I was just going to run it for her, hold her place so to speak, and then she didn’t need it any more.’ The eggs were good. I wondered where he bought his chorizo.
‘You don’t like it?’ I knew he meant the store and not the eggs. He had to see the way I was gobbling them down.
‘Sometimes I love it, but the hours are long. Do you like being a broker?’
‘Sometimes. It pays well. Do you have a woman, a lover?’ Whatever happened to transitions? I chewed more slowly. Lira watched me. Adam took a large swallow of coffee and then another forkful of eggs, but I felt him waiting for my answer.
I swallowed. ‘No.’
‘No woman?’ He ate some toast.
‘No.’
‘A man?’
‘No.’
‘How long?’
‘How long what?’
‘How long since you had a lover?’
‘Why?’
‘I like you. I like the way you feel.’
‘This was fun, but it was a one-time-only event.’
‘It
