Authors: Lawrence Sanders
"Tell me, Archy," Connie said lazily, "what have you been up to?"
"Busy, busy, busy," I said. "Dinners, parties, dances, and licentiousness. And you?"
"More of the same," she said, and we both burst out laughing.
"Actually," I said, "it's been sluggish."
"A drag," she said.
"Nothing," I said.
"Zip," she said.
We were contentedly together.
"Must you go?" she asked in a wispy voice.
"No," I said, "I must not."
"Promise not to snore?"
"I never snore," I said indignantly.
"Perhaps not but you do burble occasionally."
"I'll promise not to burble if you promise not to kick."
"I never kick," she said firmly.
"Do so."
"Do not."
"Then you sometimes jerk in your sleep. You convulse."
"Convulse?" she said. "Is that fun?"
"It can be," I said. "Under the right circumstances."
She refilled our glasses. "I've missed you, Archy," she said casually.
"And I've missed you, Connie," I said, just as casually.
"It's been silly-time," she added.
"Too true," I concurred.
"Right now?" she asked.
" 'Barkis is willin'," I told her.
"Who's Barkis?"
"A close friend of mine."
"I think I've had enough of your close friends," she said.
I skinned down and had popped between the sheets before Connie finished locking up and dousing the lights. She left a single bulb burning in the bathroom and when she came out starkly naked I almost swooned with longing. What a delight she was! And no tattoos.
She climbed into bed and we moved close.
"Let's go for it," she said.
I still refuse to believe romantic love is a myth. But an intimate friendship between a man and a woman is better.
I think.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents