Threesome - Lawrence Block [13]
“What?”
“Go get us each a drink.”
“That’s your sensational idea?”
“No, but first get us a drink.”
I came back with drinks and the bottle. She sat on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. I kissed the back of her neck. She didn’t seem to notice.
She said, “You like things a little kinky, no?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“Well, I have this idea.”
“You’re gonna call up a girlfriend to join us.”
“I am like hell.” She swung around, eyes positively fierce. “What the hell do you think I am?”
“A virgin.”
She whooped. “All right, I had that one coming. Where did I pick up this outraged innocence, I wonder? But no, I’m not into that any more. Girls. For a while, yes. In the future, perhaps. At the present, I pass. And I never did like crowd scenes. I like one-to-one relationships, otherwise I get paranoid and become convinced that the other people dig each other more than they dig me. My shrink says—forget it.”
“Forget what?”
“I don’t have a shrink. It’s an obnoxious habit I’ve developed of starting sentences with My shrink says when I want to endow thoughts of my own with extra authority. It’s handy, but fuck games for the time being, I’ve had it with games.”
“What was your sensational idea?”
“Oh, yeah.” We had refilled our glasses by now, and were probably pretty drunk. “My idea. I don’t know if it’s a good idea any more. I thought we could both be girls.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Both be girls making love. You and me. Lesbians.”
“Wouldn’t I have to have an operation? Because I don’t think I’d care to.”
“Clown.”
“Well, what then?”
“Role-playing. You have to consciously force yourself to think of yourself as a girl.”
“For thirty-six years I’ve been consciously trying to think of myself as a man. You want me to undo all those years of effort?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“At one time or another, sweetie, Mama has done everything.”
“Okay, I’m game.”
“You’re a girl.”
“All right.”
“And I’m a girl, and I love you. Close your eyes, keep them closed. I’m going to take the lead and make love to you now. These are your breasts, big beautiful breasts. This is your slender shapely hairless body. Your soft female skin. This—” Her fingers pressed briefly at my genitalia “—does not exist. Numb, nothing there. This—” her fingers lingering below the base of the scrotum “—is your sweet little snatch. How nice, how sweet—”
How fucking weird.
She made love to me, girl to girl. Or perhaps man to girl, because she took a very active role, did Marcia, leading, guiding, initiating, directing. Did I feel like a girl? I don’t know, I’ve never been a girl, I don’t know what a girl feels. But it was strange. Responding to caresses upon parts of me unused to that sort of thing.
For the finale, I lay on my back with my legs spread and my knees up, the missionary’s wife, and Marcia lay upon me, supporting her weight on her elbows and slamming her ridge of pubic bone into the base of my scrotum. She was fucking the hell out of me. She had no penis nor I any place for her to put it, but that was precisely what she was doing.
I think kinkiness is a turn-on in and of itself. In any event, I did not find any of this remotely boring. As she delivered her final thrust, I came like Old Faithful.
When drinks were freshened and cigarettes lit, I said, “Aggressive castrating bitch.”
“Who says?”
“You did, remember? And I’m not gonna argue with you. I’d be afraid.”
“Damn right.”
“Cause you might rape me.”
“Damn right.”
“That was a gas.”
“Yeah, it kind of was, wasn’t it?”
“Absolutely. I don’t think I ever want to do it again, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“Yeah.”
“Scary.”
“I’m a little bit shaky just now, to tell you the truth.”
“It’s a scary world.”
“Not for me. The only thing that scares me is me. I frighten the shit out of myself, Harry.”
“You okay?”
“I guess.”
There was something I was trying to remember. Oh, yes. “Incidentally, there’s a non-book in it.”
“Huh? Even with the new permissiveness, sweetie, there’s a limit.”
“No, something you said before. My Shrink Says.”
She was instantly interested.