Wednesday, August 20, 2008

The Streak - 7

"Smell my tits," Juniper commanded.

Juniper's tits smelled of coconut. Like a fucking Almond Joy, thought Evan, though it was more like Malibu. She hovered above him in the dark, astraddle his thighs, gyrating vaguely in the vicinity of his groin. Here she was a beautiful woman. Ass like you read about. But all he could feel was the unnerving, sexless tug of his own pants as she brushed over them. Her tits were close enough to lick but she was a million miles away; Evan perceived a vast and unbridgeable chasm between them. The rum smell made him think of high school: Saturday road trips to Ocean Beach, Rhode Island; bodysurfing, psychedelic mushrooms and Hostess Ding Dongs. For the first time in his life it occurred to him what a stupid name for a beach was Ocean Beach.

"Are you paying attention?"

"Uh-huh," Evan assured, sheepishly.

"Do you like my tongue stud?"

"Yes..."

"It glows in the dark," Juniper cooed. It was glowing in the dark.

"Really? Cool..."

"Don't! Be! So! Shy!" she admonished, punctuating each word with a pelvic thrust. Then she did something Evan would never forget.

"I'm glow in other places too!"

She flubbed her line. I'm glow. Here was Evan in the dark and drunk and the stripper in his lap had flubbed her line. He leaned back his head and exhaled heavily.

"Don't you wanna see them?" she implored.

"I gotta... Sorry," Evan mumbled. "Get... a drink."

Juniper got off him and made a frowny face while he refilled their glasses.


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