interruptus

I want you to fuck me, she said. No kissing, no groping, none of that dick-around stuff. I just want you hard and inside me. Can you do that? Can you? she asked a second time, while lifting her skirt to her waist with one hand and pulling down her panties and removing them over the black heels with the other. (She kept on the heels.) If you can’t, I’ll find someone who can. You get first crack. You interested? She put her hand on her hip, hooded her eyes, a bit, then twirled the black panties on her forefinger. I’ll even let you tell everyone that you fucked me. If you want. She grabbed the panties with two hands, now, and held them up, under her eyes. I need to know, she said. He looked up at the clock. It was six. Dinner. He needed to fix it. The kids would be hungry. He switched a period to a semi-colon, quit the file, closed his computer. He stood. He was sweating a bit. Well, maybe more than a bit. Chicken casserole coming up.