Free Love, Lust, and Other Mistakes by Eliza Lentzski Page B

in response and wrapped my fingers in her hair.  I tug her face more fully into my naked sex. “You do enough talking for both of us,” I grumble.
    Rather than pull away from my dominant hold, she leans further in.  Her hands moved to my backside and she tightens her fingers on my ass. 
    Feeling my knees about to give out again, I widen my stance and lean back against the brick wall for stability, not minding that the rough exterior bites into my exposed skin. “You wanna go back to mine?” I pant, still holding her against me.
    Showing a dmirable willpower, Madison pulls away.  “We should go back inside,” she states, shaking her head. “Rebecca and Murphy are gonna start to worry again.  They’re worse than my mom.” She stands up, pulling my pants up with her. 
    I feel like throwing a tantrum, but I somehow retain my composure.  It would ruin my edgy, stoical exterior if I pout about being unmercifully teased that evening.
    Madison wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand.  She licks at the corners of her mouth, savoring the remnants of my arousal. The site does nothing to squash my raging libido.
    “We could always tell them we’re going to patrol for those kids who ‘got away,’” I practically pant. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve lied to them.”
    She presses herself me and stands on her tiptoes so we’re face-to-face.  “It’s not the lie that gets me hot,” she breathes.  She leans forward and brushes her lips against my mouth.
    I feel my heart thud loudly in my chest. I wondered if she can feel how hard it beats whenever she’s this close.
    “See y ou back inside?” She grins affably as she comes down from her toes.
    I blink , amazed at how quickly she has regained her composure, as if she hadn’t just been on her knees in a dark alley minutes ago. “Yeah, I just gotta…catch my breath.”
    “Don’t t ake too long,” she smirks. “Cause if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll spot a drug deal in the girl’s bathroom later.”
     
    +++++
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Telephone Conscience
     
    The phone rings shrilly, jolting me out of my sleep.  I look blearily at the red glowing alarm clock near by bedside and wince when I see the time.  I can’t imagine who would be calling me at this hour.  I pick up the phone and croak out a hello.
    “Hey , sexy,” I hear a voice purr on the other line.
    It takes me a split- second to recognize the woman’s voice.  “Terri?” I guess, sitting up slightly in my bed.
    “I know, it’s been a while,” she says, her words dipped in regret.
    “Yeah, it has,” I agree.  I look at my alarm clock again.  Why is she calling me at this hour?
    “I’ve been thinking about you,” she tells me.
    I blink a few times.  The words don’t seem to be computing in my sleep-fogged brain.
    Terri and I had met nearly half a year ago through a mutual friend.  I had a few summer months off from teaching and was looking for new people to spend time with during the days. She wasn’t the typical person I would be attracted to or even the kind of woman I’d want to befriend.  We’d go tanning together, smoked cigarettes, played video games, and drank bad coffee together at all-night diners.  She was the kind of person who seemed to bring out my vices.  And, she thought my sexuality was the most interesting thing ever.
    I met her parents once.  The four of us had had dinner together at Terri’s childhood home, and I was pretty and femme and polished and polite.  Her parents adored me and asked Terri why she couldn’t spend more time with people like myself.  Terri laughed, rolling her eyes and commented that maybe she should date me if they liked me so much.  Surprisingly, they weren’t against the idea.
    Terri had a thing for the Bad Boys and Unattainable Men – the guy with a handful of girlfriends and maybe even a wife and a couple of kids in the mix – wholly uneducated men who drove cars nicer than their houses.  I