The Rules of the Game



We sat on opposite sides of the couch.  The old yellow one, facing the TV in
my apartment. "Seinfeld" was on, and we laughed and giggled in intermittent
bursts.  Mine was all laugh, Ria's was mixed.  She did have a cute little
giggle, when she let it out, which was often.

During the next commercial, she offered me the popcorn.  "Want some?"

"No, thanks." I replied, so she took it back and cradled the green plastic
bowl in her lap.  I watched her watch the flickering screen.  Small but not
fragile, she almost had a wiry look.  Blonde hair cut short, almost like a
man's: I could see why an acquaintance of mine had said she looked like a
dyke, although I'd wanted to pop him for it.  A green tank top and a short
pair of cutoffs were all she wore.  She had a nervous habit of flexing her
toes when she was concentrating, which she wasn't doing now, just absorbing
the idiocy about cleaner, whiter teeth croaking from the speaker.  The light
danced in her grey-green eyes.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, turning to me suddenly, but with a
smile.

"You."

"I figured.  But, what are you seeing?" she asked, archly.

"A good, good friend I feel like I've known all my life." I replied.

She smiled even more.  "Yeah, that sounds smooth.  You're so good with
those smooth words, you liar.  But I know what's behind those eyes.  I know
that look.  You shouldn't use that look anymore, since we decided to swear
off the sex thing."

"What look?  I'm just glancing in your direction."

"Yeeeeaaaaaaah." she said in that way she had of drawing out words.  But the
smile on her face told me she wasn't offended as she turned back to the TV. 
The episode started again, so we once again turned our attention to the
actors, playing real people on the screen.



"Now, remind me again why we swore off the sex thing." I asked, during the
next unbelievably stupid commercial.

She was surprisingly quick with the answer. "We decided recreational sex was
bad for our friendship.  We wanted to stay friends forever.  Love burns out,
friends can stay forever." This was spoken in that earnest tone you often
use when you're absolutely sure that you aren't sure at all.

"Hmmmm.  Did you think we were falling in love?" I asked.  A hell of a bold
question for me, but the mood was light so I took the plunge.  We were both
feeling in a comfortable frame of mind, as we almost always were with each
other.

"Well, it could have happened.  I just thought it'd be better if we didn't
play with fire.  You remember, you agreed." she replied, again earnestly. We
were so young.  I was twenty-two, she was twenty-one.  Like most young
people that age, we thought we were very wise.  We were: just wise enough to
outsmart ourselves, and each other.  Two lost explorers groping their way
through a world where the rules were enforced but never explained.

"Yep, I did." I confirmed

"And we were right." she said, seemingly with conviction.



After the show was over, the TV went off.  Neither of us were big viewers of
the idiot box, but we did have a few shows we loved to watch together.  All
comedies.  We both loved to laugh.  "If we couldn't laugh we would all go
insane." was one of her favorite lyrics, parrothead emeritus that she was.

Sitting on the couch, in the quiet, dinner cooked and eaten (stir-fry, beef
and broccoli), we talked over the books we were reading.  From there, the
conversation wandered onto mutual friends, their ups and downs, loves and
losses.  Both of us currently had no loves, but we had racked up a string of
losses that seemed calamitous to our inexperienced hearts.  Through all the
pain, somehow we'd been there for one another.  Some days, my shoulder was
soaked, and some days, hers.  But it always ended with a laugh.

Talking to her was so easy and pleasurable, it was like a drift down the
river on a pleasant summer day.  Hours could pass and seem like minutes. 
There was no effort, only a flow of words in the total trust and comfort
that close friends feel together.

Sometime during the conversation, I'd decided I was more comfortable with my
legs up on the couch.  Shortly thereafter, she'd decided the same thing. 
There wasn't a great deal of room, and so there was some shifting and
intertwining, as we talked.  Neither backed off.  Her feet came to rest on
mine at one point.  As we gabbed, I became aware of her toes caressing my
foot.  I knew her habits, so it was hard to tell if it was deliberate or
not.

There was, as I remember, a strange dichotomy about that phase of the night. 
As we talked on one channel above, on another below our bodies began a
second, subtle, but very meaningful dialogue that I, at least, was not aware
of until later.

It may have been midnight, or near about, before at a certain break in our
communion, I caught her looking at me like I had looked at her during
Seinfeld.  Her face seemed suffused with affection for me.  I guess I beamed
back.

"You know," she said, "I really do love you."

"I love you too." was all I could reply.  It was what I felt.

"Not romantic, giddy-falling-over love." she clarified, "but just
warm-fuzzy-all-over love.  Do you understand?"

"Sure." I replied.  That was what I felt, too.

Then, silence.  Our feet were touching again.  She spread her toes wide and
interlaced them with mine.  This time, it was very deliberate.  It was a
sensual moment, and it lit a spark to the slumbering fire inside me, which
began to awaken.  I responded, playing with her with my feet.  That she
didn't giggle (well, not much) was significant.

"Tom, sweetie, what do you think about re-considering our deal?" she asked,
after a little time had passed in silent foot-play.

"Which deal is that?" I asked.

"Where we swore off sex." she said, fetchingly (seductively would be to
strong a word for her tone).

"Oh, that one.  The one we had to re-vow after we broke down last time. 
Yes, I remember." I replied.  We both kept on staring at our toes, doing
battle between us.

"Yeah, well, right, but we did re-vow, I remember too.  It was only about
two weeks ago, silly.  And that worked.  Why not again?"

Of course, to the average person, this doesn't make much sense.  But to us
at the time, it seemed to be perfectly rational.  We could break the vow as
many times as happened, so long as we took the oath again later and repented
(although we did seem to breeze through the repentance phase without much
attention to it).

My body was giving me it's advice on the matter, and it was very clear what
it wanted.  There was no corresponding resistance anywhere to be found (I
suppose Newton's Third Law doesn't apply to human emotions).  I yielded
easily.

"Fine, I agree." I said with a wink and a look right back into her eyes that
comfirmed my words.

"Oh, that was *too easy*" she mock-pouted.  "At least, you could have put up
a show of resistance."

"I thought about it." I answered, "But I was afraid you'd take me
seriously."

"Not likely." 

"Well, then, would it make you feel better if I told you that there are some
practical obstacles this time?"

"Such as?" she queried, skeptical.

"Like, this time, I don't have a supply of prophylactics."

"Oh!  That's an easy one too. That can be cured.  They do sell them at the
drugstore." she reasoned cheerfully.

"But," I pointed out, "it's near midnight.  Think anything will be open?"

"Something has to be.  C'mon, let's go!"  She swung her legs off the couch
and into her sandals.



Shortly, we were cruising through the warm summer night air, heading for
the nearest shopping center.  Of course, all the stores there were closed. 
We hadn't thought to look in the yellow pages for an all-night drugstore.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Seven-eleven.  Restroom.  Machine."  she answered.  It was an obvious
solution, so I headed out towards I-95, where the nearest sure bet was
located, just off the on-ramp.

"Do you mind if I ask you," she mentioned, as if in passing, "just what
happened to the box we bought last time?"

"I loaned them to Larry." I replied.

"Loaned?" she grinned wickedly.  "It's really going to be cute when he
*gives w=them back*."

"He's probably just going to buy replacements." I deadpanned.

"Oh.  You take all the fun out of it." she replied, with a gesture
involving her outthrust tongue.   Then a moment of thoughtful silence.

"Did you really give them away?" she asked.

"Yes, I did sweetie.  If I'd used them, you'd have gotten the full details."

"Well, that's reassuring.  I think."



Our arrival at the convenience store was uneventful.  It was deserted,
except for the clerk inside, who looked like a retired mercenary from the
war in Afghanistan, undoubtedly with his double-barrel right under the
counter.

"Okay, go get some, brave knight." she encouraged.

"How come me?" I replied, "It was your idea."

"I don't think they have any in the women's room."

"Then how the hell did you know that there are some in the men's room?"

"Okay, okay, I guess they do have them in the women's.  But I still want you
to get them.  Please?"

"What if there are none in the men's?"

"If not, then I'll go."

The restrooms were inside.  I walked in, past Ivan or whoever, and went into
the men's room.  Sure enough: the usual machine dispensing fifty-cent
condoms.  Four different kinds.  Of course, I had only one quarter.  Back
out to the car.

"First, " I said, crouching by her open window, "what type do you want, and
second and most important, do you have any quarters?

"Type?  What difference does it make?  What types do they have?"

"Uh, regular, ribbed, ultra-thin, and multicolored."

"I don't care.  And no, I don't have any quarters, I left my purse back at
your apartment."

"How about the ribbed ones?" I smiled.

"Uh, no.  But the multicolored ones might be cute."

And so, back to Ivan.  On the way in, I figured out what to do.  I shopped
carefully, buying a soda and some candy, calculating the change so as to be
sure I got the maximum number of quarters.  My mathematics major didn't go
for naught.  Three quarters, added to the one I had: giving me the chance to
choose two packs of rubbers.  But of course, the whole stratagem fell apart,
because I had to go back into the restroom and get them.  Ivan would know
for sure what I was up to.  But there was no choice, so in I went, selecting
a pack of multicolored, and a pack of ultra-thins.  The ultra-thin concept
sounded pretty good to me, although I was sure they were in reality probably
the same as the regular ones.

I walked back out past Ivan, who looked up from his tiny black-and-white TV
just enough to glance out to Ria wanting in the car, then up at me with a
knowing smile.  "Have a nice night." he said, in some vague middle-eastern
accent; but the smile knew no borders or languages.  I smiled back and
headed back into the warm past-midnight air.

As I climbed back into the car, I gave her the goods.  "Just two?" she asked.

"Two not enough?" I replied.  "You must have some big plans."

"Yeah, I should never shop when I'm hungry." she said with that contagious
laugh of hers.

"Only had four quarters." I mentioned.

"Not too far back here, if we need more." she reassured herself.  "How
about if we take Midland road home?"

"Why?" I asked.

"'Cause it goes past that video store."

"And?"

"I might want to rent a movie, dummy.  Why else would I want to go to a
video store for?"

"Um, well, I kind of thought our plans included something other than
movie-watching."

"They have an adult section.  In fact, it's two-thirds of the store."

"Ah, I see." I smiled.

"I'm curious." she continued.  "I've never seen a porno movie."

"Purely an academic interest, I'm sure." I deadpanned again.  This time, her
tongue came out with no corresponding remark.  But the way she wagged it at
me was more sexy than teasing.




"Judi's Video" proclaimed the pink neon sign.  We both got out this time,
and entered.  Again, a deserted shop, with a bored proprietor leaning back
in a broken green easy chair behind the counter, reading something paperback
with a yellow cover.  The room was fairly small, with a narrow selection of
mainstream videos.  In the back, a double door with the sign "Adult Section"
in red beckoned to all who entered.

"Hi.  I'm Phil.  Can I help you two?"  the clerk, obviously not Judi, looked
up.  Phil looked so slick he could have just emerged from his hog-grease
wallow.

"No, thanks, we're just looking."  I replied.  He went back to his book.

Ria whispered conspiratorially in my ear: "You go back in and pick one out. 
I'll pick one out here."

"Hell the fuck no." I whispered back.  "Your idea.  Let's go back together."

She followed me through the wide doors, the ones with the sign "If You Are
Offended by Adult Material, Please Do Not Enter." What we did enter was a
seedy wonderland of brightly colored video boxes, which, despite the variety
of attention-getting designs and colors all seemed, in total, to give off a
flesh-colored aura.  There were easily five times as many selections back
here as in the front.

We studiously looked over the possibilities.  No idea what we were looking
for.  "It's up to you." I said.

"I don't know, you pick one." she replied.  We wandered up and down
aimlessly, overwhelmed by the variety.

Shortly, the doors opened and in slid Phil.  Wanting no doubt to see what
this couple was doing in his adult section past midnight.

"Need some help?" he said to Ria, "I'll be glad to help you."

Ria looked back up at him, her five foot five to his six feet two.  "I think
I'll go wait in the car.  You pick one." she blurted suddenly, and bolted
for the exit.

As the doors closed, he said to me "Didn't mean to upset her."

I didn't reply to that, just reached out and grabbed one with a tangled ball
of naked people on the cover, and headed out after her.

Back out of the adult section, Ria waited, not having made it all the way to
the parking lot. "Let's get this one sweetie." she suggested, thrusting a
video into my hands.

Phil meanwhile had made it around to the rear of the counter.  I handed him
our two selections.  Hers, "Curly Sue", with a picture of a cute little kid
on the cover.  A Disney production, no doubt.  I on the other hand had "Cum
Demons Part IX".  Production company not prominently displayed on the cover.

"Are you guys members here?" Phil asked.

"No, not I, are you?" I looked at Ria.

"Nope." she replied.  "What does it take to join?" she asked the greaseball.

"A driver's license and credit card."

"I've got the license. " I volunteered, "Have you got a credit card?"

"No, remember where I told you I left my purse."

"Has to be the same person, anyway, unless you are married." Phil explained.

"Look, isn't there some way, I mean, we aren't going to rip you off or
anything." Ria pleaded.

Silence, as the undoubtedly slow and oil-clogged wheels in Phil's head
turned.

"Well, you look like two nice kids." he said, looking from me to Ria.  I
guess we did look young: he was about in his forties I'd guess, unless the
grease acted as a preservative, in which case all bets were off.  "I could
take a fifty dollar deposit.  Normally, it's seventy-five for two videos."

"Fifty dollars?  Way too much!" Ria replied.

"It's just a deposit.  You get it back when you return them.  Hey, I'm just
trying to be nice here." I think Phil was from New York, and not entirely
comfortable yet with the Southern way of doing things.  I checked my wallet.
Thirty-five dollars.

"I've only got thirty-five." I told Ria.  She looked at me, and there was a
pause.  Then, sheepishly, she reached into her front pocket and withdrew a
crumpled twenty. 

"Okay." she said.  I paid Phil, then we stood there as he slowly completed
the transaction, waiting for some smart remark from him.  He obviously knew
what this was all about, and it wasn't going home and watching "Curly Sue". 
Finally, with no visible hint of a reaction from Phil, whatever he was
thinking, we exited at last, from the stale air into the humid but clean
outdoors.  When we got into the car, as I started it she laughed.  "Fifty
fucking dollars!" she roared.

"You were prepared." I remarked.

"Always be prepared." she replied.  "Isn't that the scout motto?"




The bell on my door, there presumably to alert me to any serial killers
coming in to wipe me out, so I'm fully awake when I die, dinged cheerfully
as we re-entered the apartment. Everything was as before, and Ria went in to
the tiny kitchen to get a beer, asking me if I wanted one.  I said yes, and
asked if I should put the tape in.

"Which one?"

"Which one do you want?" I shot back.

"Let's flip a coin."

Sure. Right. A coin. I pulled out a nickel and told her to call it in the
air.  "Heads for 'Cum Demons', tails for 'Curly Sue'."

"Shouldn't that be the other way around?"

"It works either way.  Hey, it's tails." I reported as the spinning coin
settled down.

She came in the with the beers to me, in front of the VCR.  "Two out of
three?" she suggested.

"Fuck it let's just put in 'Cum Demons'." I finally gave in.

"Okay." she said, having shifted the decision to my shoulders yet again, all
the while acting innocent.  She settled in on her side of the couch, and
having inserted the tape, I settled on mine.


The movie was...well...a porno movie.  Even as that, it was a bit
disappointing.  Videotaped like most low-budget modern porn, it had no plot
at all, but that was no matter...one doesn't rent these things for the
story.  One hopes instead for hot sex.  But in this particular video the
actors seemed mostly to be going through the motions.  Still, if I'd have
been alone it would have been plenty enough to get me going.  But with Ria
right next to me, I couldn't concentrate on the movie.  I was instead intent
on her reaction.

"Now, where's he going to put the other ten inches?" was her first comment. 
Indeed, the hero did appear to be overly well endowed.  We laughed.  But
silence resumed after that one outburst.

I looked across at her several times.  She was watching, but there was no
obvious reaction either positively or negatively.  Nor did I seem to be
reacting by getting aroused.  It just didn't seem like the actors were
really enjoying themselves, especially the women, which is key to me.  I was
beginning to think the movie was a failure as a way to get us hot.  Ria did
however get more comfortable by stretching herself out on the couch, her
bare feet in my lap.  I considered caressing them, but knew it would
probably only tickle her and take her mind off what I hoped might still get
her warmed up.

That's when the obligatory Lesbian scene came on.  The two girls who were, I
guess, supposed to be the Cum Demons had already swallowed several mouthfuls
of what they supposedly craved, and now settled down for some R & R time
with just themselves.  It was clear immediately that the two actresses
didn't care much for the studs, but were into each other for real.  Smiles
seemed genuine onscreen as tongues were exchanged, kisses rained down on
soft bodies, and finally the two Demons arranged themselves in a tight
sixty-nine with the handheld camera floating above them.

I finally forgot about Ria for a moment (that seems odd to type as I write
this, but it's true).  The scene was hot and it produced a reaction in me. 
Gradually, I, at least, started on that sweet transition from the zone of
normal life to the zone of sex, where everything looks and feels different
and wonderful.

"What's this?" came the question from the other side of the couch.  "My feet
seem to be ... rising up ..."

A storm of giggles followed.  I just turned to her and smiled.  It was true
of course.  My erected had happened right under her feet. Her smile
following the giggles was radiant.  Forgetting the movie, she began to work
her feet in my lap, carressing my shaft with her toes through the denim. 
Oh, did it feel so sweet.  I didn't move, but just watched her bare toes
move sexily on my cock.

"The lezzie stuff got to you, didn't it?" she asked.

"It wasn't so much the lezzie stuff, as the fact that it looked like they
were enjoying some real pleasure with each other.  Didn't it get to you at
all?"

"What gets to me, sweetie, is sitting here thinking about getting it on with
you.  And it feels like you're thinking along the same lines."  Her toes
worked harder into me.

"I am, oh, yes, I am." was all I could say.  At that, she pulled back her
legs, rose up, and then kind of just leaned forward into me.  Our mouths
found one another's quickly.  We both love kissing.  Sweet sexy lips and
tongues, swirling and licking and nibbling and sucking.  We get pretty
sloppy, and both love it.

The feel of her body, warm next to mine.  The feel of her hot mouth on mine,
kissing with abandon.  The sweetness of the touch of her tongue on mine. 
The smell of her body, her hair, her heat.  I was lost in all those things,
the world having closed in until just the miniscule distance between us
was the boundary of the known universe.  Sinking swiftly into the pool of
radiance where thoughts yield to feelings, feelings alone.

Transition made, in record time.  We're in the Sex Zone.  Full arousal, hard
stiff cock and sloppy wet pussy.  But the kisses go on, broken only by
little pauses where articles of clothing are stripped off and descend to the
floor, or over the back of the couch, or who knows where.  My shirt, her
top.  Hard little nipples boring into my chest, against my own nipples, as
she kisses hard again, seeming to slurp the saliva out of my mouth and into
hers.  All the pretend innocence gone now, long gone away.

Soon, pants are pulled off.  We both want full nakedness.  Underwear
follows, punctuated by wet kisses and nibbles and sighs.  She makes a little
moaning noise that moves my heart whenever I kiss her at the spot where her
neck meets her shoulder.  The exaggerated moans and groans coming from the
movie are still filling the air, but mostly forgotten.  The tiniest sincere
sexual noise has more impact than a thunderous ovation of fake howls.

Naked at last, we find ourselves entangled on the couch, both sitting up in
one of those exotic positions in the Kama Sutra, or in the ancient Asian
erotic art.  We're young and flexible, and manage to get our legs far
enough out of the way so that, at last, our yearning naked sexes press up
warmly against one another. 

Sighing, we wrap our arms tightly around one another and kiss tenderly.  I
feel the hot smooth velvet of her slit, open and wet, pressed against the
underside of my desperately sensitive cock.  We kiss, and try to hold still,
but it just doesn't work.  Her loins start a small subtle hump around the
same time as mine do.  Fiery stings of sugary sweet feelings radiate all
over us.  Our bodies alive, human, yearning, feeling.  Kissing, tongues
entwined, nipples touching, pussy and cock soldered together and rubbing.
The sweet nastiness of sex.

Finally, she breaks it off.  "Where are the rubbers?" she asks, her voice
changed to an octave lower by some magic, it seems.

"You had them." I croak.

"Fuck where did I put them?" she leaps off the couch and retrieves her
discarded pants, searching the pockets with quick nimble fingers.  "Ah!" she
grunts in triumph.  The crisis over, she returns on her knees to the side of
the couch, and bids me to slide down a bit.  I do, now laying fully
stretched out, with my ass settled firmly in the center, head next to one
armrest, feet on the other.  She takes my very hard cock in her hands, and
begins stroking while watching it lovingly.  I can see the warmth in her
eyes, her love of my body and it's sexiness.  But the feeling is too much. 
I haven't even masturbated for about two days, and so the feeling is extra
intense.

"I love it, " I finally say, "But if you keep it up I'll come."

"No, I need you inside me." She rips open the pack of ultra-thins, and pulls
the little rubber ring out.  From practice, she knows what to do, and fits
it over the tip of my cock, and with those sensitive fingers rolls it down
to the base.  The "raincoat" (as she calls it) on, she gives me one last
hand rub, and hurriedly climbs up on the couch, spreading her lovely thighs
until her knees fit on either side of my waist, and her pink hair-lined slit
is right above my cock.  The hurry she is in is sexy in itself.

At first, as always, it looks like it will be an impossible fit.  I'm not
all that long, but I am quite wide.  But bravely she descends, and soon we
both see the broad head squeeze in and disappear.  She sighs, and goes
lower, lifting a little and then back down, to help coat the rubberclad cock
with what she calls her own personal motion lotion.

At last it's all in, and she settles contently down with her thighs resting
on mine.  I can see her savoring the feelings in her face, eyes closed, sexy
half smile on her wet lips.  Condoms aren't my favorite thing, but one good
thing they do is let a horny guy endure a girl sitting slowly down on his
cock without coming.  Bare, the feelings might have been enough to make me
shoot.

Soon, she leans forward, eyes still closed.  "Fuck." she says, as if giving
an order to herself.  Then her motion starts, a steady slow rise and fall of
her hips.  This is our favorite position.  I get to lie there, lazily, and
let her do the work while getting to watch her sexy body doing that special
dance above me, tits jiggling, tongue sometimes absentmindedly licking her
own lips.  She gets to control the motion and level of stimulation, as well
as the angle.  It's the only position where she comes with my cock alone
inside her.  Doing doggy, she frigs herself.  I've never known her to come
in the missionary position.  It would have been easy to fake, but one thing
I love about her is her honesty.

The pleasure rises quickly for both of us.  The days of abstention, plus the
horny buildup, has us peaking early.  Even the condom can't hide the sweet
pleasure of her riding my cock.  I hear myself moan and sigh.  She's
breathing hard.  Moving more quickly.  Bending forward more, to increase the
rubbing near her clit, I suppose.  She starts her come-chant.

"Oh, baby, oh....oh, god, baby, god....oh yes....yes .....yes....yes..." her
voice gets higher pitched.  I myself feel my vision blur as my eyes want to
close, but I force them open to see her face.  It's a picture of transported
ecstasy.  I'm trying to hold out so I can come when she does.

"Oh, baby, close, baby, oh...god...yes....gonna cum....cum....oh YES!" the
last a sudden gasp.  She leans back then, her face almost turned up to the
ceiling. "Ahhhieeeeeeeeeeee" is as close as I can come to her little cream
scream, she calls it.  Her hips jiggle.  She just lets her body explode with
no restraint.

I do too.  It's been almost impossible to hold, and so I don't anymore.  My
cock stiffens deliciously, and I mumble "cumming" but I don't know if she
hears.  Her cunt is still spasming as my squirts pulse the sperm up into the
tip of the condom.  Oh, what killing agony of pleasure.  Our moans mingle
together.

When the spasms stop on both sides, she falls down on me.  Sweaty bodies in
the hot night slap together.  Hard, ragged breathing, heaving chests,
reeling minds.




Eventually, of course, we recover.  In each other's arms.  Little kisses.
"Oooooo baby." she finally croons into my ear, her warm breath tickling me. 
My cock is still inside her, but shrinking.  A few more kisses, and she
climbs off slowly.

The rubber looks really obscene, hanging off the end of my deflating cock,
filled with it's load of milky white sperm, coated with Ria's goo.  She
touches it with her finger, indicating acceptance and not repulsion.

"Well, looks like it didn't break." she smiles, "Guess when my little egg
comes strolling down the tube with her fuck-me pumps on, she won't find any
little wrigglers there to waylay her."

"We wouldn't want that.  No little Toms or Rias running around under our
feet." I reply.

"Sure enough." she says.  I struggle to my feet, limbs slow with the sexual
languor, and stagger to the bathroom, remove the condom, and flush it
down.  When I return she's glowingly waiting.  And wanting.

A full-body naked hug, tight and long and warm, followed by her presenting
the second rubber, still wrapped in rainbow colors.  "Bedroom?" she asks.
"About time." I reply, and in we go to my little double bed, just room
enough for two if you sleep on your sides.


                                    -=*=-


In the wee hours of the morning, we at last ended our gasping and thrashing
yet again.  Exhausted, we lay cuddled together on the tiny bed, her back to
me, her naked ass pressed against my sated loins.  With sleepy eyes and
sleepy thoughts, I asked if we were going to swear this off again.

"We'll think about it in the morning." were her last conscious words.  I
drifted off, behind her, to the sound of her cute little snores.