Fast Lane by Dave Zeltserman

alcohol, or maybe I was just too damned mad to see straight. Whatever it was, lying there looking at her stretched out on my bed, I could see she was certainly something.
    Her waist was thin enough to wrap my hands around, and brother, I would’ve needed more than that to get around her hips and chest. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying they didn’t look good on her. They looked damn good.
    It was funny, but the night before I would’ve sworn her face looked like a ball of putty, bloated and blotched. Well, I was wrong about that too. In the bright sunlight her face was maybe a little pale, but still as pretty as they come. A person couldn’t have been more wrong about anything.
    I started feeling a dryness in my mouth and an itching someplace else. I rolled over onto my side and started massaging her. All at once her body got stiff and tight, and she started with the excuses. Her head hurt too much, she was feeling sick, her hangover was killing her—you know the rest of them. She didn’t move away, though, and I didn’t let her excuses stop me. I kept it right up, hoping she’d give it to me before I had to take it from her. Sure enough, her body relaxed, and she melted into me.
    After we finished, we lay there with her all over me, whispering all sorts of crap into my ear. What else could I do but pretend to like it? If she knew what I was thinking, I don’t suppose she would have been whispering that stuff to me. Maybe some of the words, but not in the same context.
    She started playing with my hair, and well, my poppa taught me to be understanding with gals so all I could do was grit my teeth. I told her I had clients waiting at my office, and asked if it wasn’t about time for her to be heading home.
    “ Oh,” she said, pouting. “I thought you were beginning to like me.” And she stopped playing with my hair, and started playing with something else. Well, what else could I do? As much of a chore as it was, we went at it again.
    When we finished, she gave me that nice easy smile of hers. “Mmm,” she said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Why don’t you go get me a nice big drink? Surprise me.”
    I got up and made her one, and made myself a bigger one. When I got back, she was bent over my phone with her backside facing the door. As she heard me, she turned her head and informed me she was writing down my phone number and giving me hers, just so we wouldn’t accidentally forget later. I wanted to go over and give her ass a nice accidental on-purpose kick, but as strong as the temptation was, I resisted it. On walking back to the bed, I did manage to give her a friendly slap. Judging from the way she jumped, I guess it was questionable as to how friendly it was.
    I gave her a drink, and she sat back down on the bed sipping it slowly. She rubbed her ass a little gingerly, but decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. She asked if I’d like to spend the day with her.
    “ Now, honey, you know I would.”
    “ Why don’t we, then?”
    “ I already told you, I’ve got people waiting for me.”
    “ You’re no fun.” She pouted. I swear she fluttered her eyelids at me as she went on, “I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time. I might be your biggest fan. Now that I’ve got you, I’m not about to let go.”
    “ Is that a fact?”
    “ It sure is!” Her eyes blazed for a second. Then she caught herself and turned the cute stuff back on. She wiggled her ass closer to me until she was just about sitting on my lap. Then, playing with her fingers along my chest, she asked, “Why do you have to be so difficult? Haven’t I been nice to you?”
    It went on and on, and well, it was all pretty cute. All the blushing and eye fluttering and whispering. After a while I had enough. It took quite a bit of coaxing on my part to get her panties back on, and even more to get her out the door and into a cab. The whole thing tired me out. By the time she left, the only thing I wanted to do was crawl