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‘You’re wet, sweetheart, yeah … ’
‘More?’ I whispered, looking behind me.
Eyes screwed shut, Bill was nodding his head.
‘Ninety.’
‘Yeah, just suck it, please.’
His finger fell out of me.
‘Kiss it, sweetheart, kiss it, please.’
I slid under the table. Old cigarette butts stuck to my knees. I swam forward an inch through the walls of his thighs. I trickled some juice on him, forming a suck. I looked up at Bill. He was as hard as the floor.
Just a few sudden mouthfuls of cock and I swallowed his cash like a curse down my throat.
‘Are you okay?’ I remember the way John stroked my forehead after we’d had sex for the first time. It felt repetitive, insistent.
I wanted to hide.
‘Mira. C’mon, baby, open your eyes.’
There was a candle making shadows on the ceiling. My back was glued to the couch. John was squeezed in beside me.
‘What time is it?’ I asked.
‘It’s okay, Mira. It’s not late at all.’
I was covering myself with my arms.
‘Why don’t you say something?’
‘I have to go home.’ The whole room was flickering.
‘Stay just a few more minutes,’ John said. He started drawing circles around my breasts. ‘You never finished telling me about your cousin, what’s his name?’
‘Who?’
‘Your cousin?’
‘Oh.’
‘Well … ?’
‘Ezrah.’
John dipped a finger in me. ‘Wow, you’re still wet.’
‘Stop!’
‘You want me to stop?’
I felt buzzing in my body. Buzzing through my nipples and all down my legs.
‘Okay, baby, okay.’
John reached over me to open a drawer under the coffee table. He took out a thin cigarette and lit it from the candle. He started taking deep puffs. Then he put it between my lips.
