47

I was impressed that Joey didn't appear at all jealous. I was taking his girl away from him, and he seemed ambivalent about it. Later on he would tell me why when I pointed it out. This is what he would say then.

"Dude, she ain't my girl. She's no-one's girl. She can have you, me, whoever. But no one will ever have her."

It would turn out to be true, but he never said anything until I asked him. Maybe he wanted me to figure it out myself. Most likely, he'd had his shot with her, failed, and now didn't give a fuck. But he was fiercely loyal to her nonetheless. She had that effect on a person, once you got inside her tight circle. And once out of that inner realm, you were out forever.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I could barely contain my horniness. There we were, lying down next to each other on her carpeting, with blankets and pillows, in front of her television. Popcorn, Pepsi and pussy were on my platter that night. I had a condom from the machine in the biker bar and was ready to go. She had brought home some take-out Thai and it was delicious.

We were alone on this Friday night. I would come to understand that due to the restaraunt, Katheena's house was empty almost every night, until closing time.

She pressed a button and from the top of the VCR rose a section that looked like it was made at NASA. A cartridge slot appeared, so she slid her tape in and pressed the whole contraption back down into the machine. Imagine being able to watch a movie whenever you wanted to, instead of waiting for the cable channel to decide to play it for you. Why, you could pause it and rewind it to see something you'd missed, or something that you would like to review over and over again.

Someday, someone will invent a VCR for our memories. I'd go back to review things I missed over and over again.

This girl always smelled good, looked good, and felt good to the touch. Her breath was fresh, and her mouth tasted like almonds, curiously enough. I asked her another time why her kisses and her tongue tasted like almonds. Evidently, if you plan on doing some French kissing, eat a few almonds beforehand, or a small handfull of shelled sunflower seeds before you brush your teeth, and these will sweeten your breath. They coat the throat and calm the stomach fluids. Whiskey works wonders too.

She was not wearing a bra, nor underwear of any sort. The movie played in the background as I explored her silky curves and firm secrets. She began to breathe huskily, and I let her push me onto the floor, as she undid my belt and unzipped my pants. She kissed my stomach in a path line that ran directly---

---across the lower part of my belly, which made a loud gurgling noise. I felt a sudden heat in my ass. "Uh oh." I would not shart, I told myself, I would not fucking shart, as I got up and made a dash to the bathroom.

She called after me, "That's OK, it happens all the time. The next one will be even better. It will last longer."

I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. The bathroom fan did not cover up the noises I was making.

"Are you OK in there, Will?" She knocked on the door.

I grunted out, "was there milk or something in that food?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Yes, there was some heavy cream in one of the sauces. Why?"

I felt another rumble down below. "I can't drink milk. It's bad when I do."

++++++++++++++++++++++++



I would never cross home plate with this glorious creature. The events of that night turned her off of from me and directed me to the parlor room where other failed suitors played cards amongst themselves and bade their time for another chance that would never appear.

Yet, we would remain close friends, the best of friends, for a little while. It was better this way, I would lie to myself, because then I'd get to see another side of her that otherwise would be inaccessible for one reason: you always put your best foot forward for the one you are trying to impress. I would see the real Katheena. I hoped. I wondered what that would be like.


God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.