Sellevision - Augusten Burroughs [70]
He raised his eyebrows: So what?
“My parents lived in Brooklyn before I was born. My father was a cop.” She inhaled. “And they gave their first baby, a boy, up for adoption.”
His mouth fell open. He blinked once.
sixteen
“Yes. Mr. Smythe, yes, yes, oh God!” Nikki cried, as John pounded into her from behind, drops of sweat falling from his forehead onto her back. “Oh, I’ve been such a naughty little girl, punish me. Harder, harder!”
John thrust into her, groaning loudly, like an animal, his fingers pressed tightly into her buttocks. “Oh, Nikki, I’m getting close, I’m getting so close,” he cried out, eyes rolling back in his head.
Just then she pulled away from him and he fell out of her. She turned over on her back. “On my face, Mr. Smythe, all over my face—just not in my hair.”
When it was all over, Nikki asked for a tissue. John brought her a box of pink ones from the bathroom.
“How long did you say your wife’s going to be in the hospital?” she asked.
He smiled wickedly at her. “Thirty days and thirty nights.”
Nikki crawled under the covers. “Let’s take a little nap.”
He climbed into bed next to her, wrapped his large arms around her small, perfect body. She closed her eyes.
“Mmmmm, you’re so warm.”
“It’s all my hair,” he said. “It’s like insulation.”
Nikki ran her fingers through the hair along his arm. “My father’s smooth all over, like a porpoise. It really grosses me out.”
He nibbled her earlobe. “You never, you know, did anything with your father, did you, Nikki?” he asked.
“Just once,” she said. “When I was fourteen.”
John opened his eyes in alarm. “Your father raped you when you were fourteen?”
Nikki laughed. “I’d hardly call it rape. I was curious so I climbed into the shower with him one morning.”
He stuck his tongue in her ear. “You’re such a bad girl, Nikki.”
She giggled. “That tickles.” Then she got philosophical, gazing at the curtain rod. “I’m the Fashion Café generation, you know? I mean I just believe that if something feels good and it’s not hurting anybody, you should just go for it!”
Oh yes, he thought, you little treat.
“We’re all gonna die eventually, so why not have some fun?” Then she turned to him. “Hey, you don’t have any handcuffs, do you? I know a good trick.”
He brought his mouth to her small breast, sucking on the nipple until it stiffened.
“I’m not really seventeen,” she said.
He moaned.
“I’m sixteen. Almost.”
He moaned harder. His mouth moved hungrily along her neck. “I don’t care if you’re twelve. If I can have thirty days with you, it’s worth rotting on death row for the rest of my life.”
John ran his fingers across Nikki’s tight, flat stomach. “Jesus, you don’t have a single stretch mark. Peggy Jean is covered with them. It’s repulsive.”
Nikki tensed. “I swear, I will never have stretch marks. I’d kill myself first. If I want to have a baby someday, I’ll just hire some surrogate cow.”
John flicked her navel ring with his tongue. “Kids just get in the way.”
She reached down between his legs. “Hey, what’s this, Mr. Smythe? Already?”
“Yo, Dad!” Ricky called out, bounding up the stairs.
“Shit,” John said. “Quick Nikki, hide in the closet or get under the bed.”
But it was too late. Ricky threw open the door. “Can we order pizza tonight since Mom’s—oh, hi Nikki, how’s it going?”
She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
He looked back at his father. “Anyway, since Mom’s in the loony bin now and everything, can we order a pizza?”
He stared in astonishment at his son. “Uh, yeah, sure, I guess.”
Ricky smiled. “Cool.” Then he dashed down the hall and went into his room.
After John and Nikki dressed and Nikki had gone downstairs to move the clothes from the washer to the drier, John, his three boys, and Nikki shared three large pizzas.
“You don’t have to call your father, let him know where you are?” John asked.
Nikki slid the point of a slice of pepperoni pizza into her mouth. “Oh no, I do whatever I want. He’s sort of scared of me.”
John and Nikki sat together on the couch, her leg over his knee. His three