love, complex love, and a terrible fear that now I'd never get over her; I'd actually slept with her and was hooked for life, like poor old shambling Lon Chaney Jr. in all those werewolf movies - that I wasn't quite sure what to say. But I knew what she wanted me to say, so I said it. "God, are you kidding. It was wonderful."
"I taste all right?"
"You tasted fine."
"I really try to keep myself clean. Some girls I know don't even try."
"You taste great."
She snuggled close to me beneath the covers. It would have been a completely heady moment except for the fact that I really really needed to empty ye olde bladder. "You're a very good lover, McCain."
"Thanks."
"You make sure the girl's having a good time. Stu doesn't care at all. Very selfish."
"He looks like the kind."
"He does?"
"I was joking."
"Oh."
I just kept thinking about how badly I needed to pee. But I also kept thinking that this might be my one and only night with Pamela. Ever. So I could hardly get up and walk to the john and ruin the moment, could I?
"He also can't last very long."
She was doing what we all do when we've been hurt. Diminish the person who has hurt us. By the end of the night, Stu would be this guy with skin like alligator hide and connections to a satanic cult.
"Plus his breath - whew. It's pretty rank."
"He sounds ducky."
"Your breath is excellent, McCain."
"Excellent," I said. "Now there's a nice word for breath. The Excellent Breath Award goes to Sam McCain. Maybe Connie Francis could present it to me on Bandstand some afternoon."
"Really. It is. And I'm not just saying that."
We lay there for a time, silently. She was thinking of him and I was thinking of her. And then the cats hit the bed and then we were all tangled up together: the beautiful Pamela, Tasha, Crystal, and Tess. There was a plethora of new scents and sounds for them to take in. Tasha is particularly responsive to voices and Pamela has a nice one, throaty but refined. Tess presented me with a pretty good view of her butt several times. Crystal made sure my chin was clean, and Tasha thoughtfully lay on my head in case I was getting cold.
Pamela said, "You ever wish the night would never end?"
"Sometimes."
"This is one of those nights. I'd like to stay right here in this bed with you and your cats forever. Never be dawn again. It feels so safe here."
Translate to I don't have to deal with my feelings for Stu tonight; I can just float along in this bed. It's a beautiful escape. I knew that's what she was feeling because it's what I was feeling too. If we could just stay here forever - and if this was the final night, never to be daylight again - how simple and lucky my life would be. Especially if I got to go to the bathroom soon.
"And it's not like I don't have feelings for you," she said.
This was the part I wasn't going to like. You know, where she tried to rationalize herself out of love with Stu and into love with me. It was sort of like trying hard to fall in love with your hamster.
"And it's not like you're not a lot of fun.
"And it's not like you're ugly or anything.
"And it's not like you don't have a future.
"And it's not like you wouldn't be a good provider and a wonderful father.
"And it's not like you'd ever cheat on me or start drinking or beat me or anything."
And then she fell to crying again because she was so miserable at the prospect of marrying me, she couldn't face it.
I decided that this was a good time to get up and take my whizz. I'd pretty much used up all my sobbing patter anyway. There there now; hey, hey, c'mon, you'll feel a lot better in the morning; hey, this isn't like you, you're a fighter; you don't give up just because Stu decided to go back to his
"I taste all right?"
"You tasted fine."
"I really try to keep myself clean. Some girls I know don't even try."
"You taste great."
She snuggled close to me beneath the covers. It would have been a completely heady moment except for the fact that I really really needed to empty ye olde bladder. "You're a very good lover, McCain."
"Thanks."
"You make sure the girl's having a good time. Stu doesn't care at all. Very selfish."
"He looks like the kind."
"He does?"
"I was joking."
"Oh."
I just kept thinking about how badly I needed to pee. But I also kept thinking that this might be my one and only night with Pamela. Ever. So I could hardly get up and walk to the john and ruin the moment, could I?
"He also can't last very long."
She was doing what we all do when we've been hurt. Diminish the person who has hurt us. By the end of the night, Stu would be this guy with skin like alligator hide and connections to a satanic cult.
"Plus his breath - whew. It's pretty rank."
"He sounds ducky."
"Your breath is excellent, McCain."
"Excellent," I said. "Now there's a nice word for breath. The Excellent Breath Award goes to Sam McCain. Maybe Connie Francis could present it to me on Bandstand some afternoon."
"Really. It is. And I'm not just saying that."
We lay there for a time, silently. She was thinking of him and I was thinking of her. And then the cats hit the bed and then we were all tangled up together: the beautiful Pamela, Tasha, Crystal, and Tess. There was a plethora of new scents and sounds for them to take in. Tasha is particularly responsive to voices and Pamela has a nice one, throaty but refined. Tess presented me with a pretty good view of her butt several times. Crystal made sure my chin was clean, and Tasha thoughtfully lay on my head in case I was getting cold.
Pamela said, "You ever wish the night would never end?"
"Sometimes."
"This is one of those nights. I'd like to stay right here in this bed with you and your cats forever. Never be dawn again. It feels so safe here."
Translate to I don't have to deal with my feelings for Stu tonight; I can just float along in this bed. It's a beautiful escape. I knew that's what she was feeling because it's what I was feeling too. If we could just stay here forever - and if this was the final night, never to be daylight again - how simple and lucky my life would be. Especially if I got to go to the bathroom soon.
"And it's not like I don't have feelings for you," she said.
This was the part I wasn't going to like. You know, where she tried to rationalize herself out of love with Stu and into love with me. It was sort of like trying hard to fall in love with your hamster.
"And it's not like you're not a lot of fun.
"And it's not like you're ugly or anything.
"And it's not like you don't have a future.
"And it's not like you wouldn't be a good provider and a wonderful father.
"And it's not like you'd ever cheat on me or start drinking or beat me or anything."
And then she fell to crying again because she was so miserable at the prospect of marrying me, she couldn't face it.
I decided that this was a good time to get up and take my whizz. I'd pretty much used up all my sobbing patter anyway. There there now; hey, hey, c'mon, you'll feel a lot better in the morning; hey, this isn't like you, you're a fighter; you don't give up just because Stu decided to go back to his
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