Free Between Lovers by Eric Jerome Dickey Page B

and watch television, so I know a lot of what I feel isn’t that unusual. You should see the personal ads in the back of the Guardian —not that I read those skanky personals.”
    â€œOf course you don’t. Go ahead. Stop tap dancing and ask.”
    â€œI don’t want to offend you. I don’t want you to, you know, think bad of me.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    â€œWe’ve done a lot of, for lack of a better phrase, carnal experimenting together. Got our freak on in parks. At the library. Did it pretty much everywhere but a Burger King bathroom. Had our little toys. Found out what worked. Gave everything at least two tries.”
    Again she pauses.
    I say, “Right now. Now stop tap dancing and ask.”
    â€œIt’s a whole new level.”
    â€œAsk.”
    Her mouth is open, but no words appear. The clicks and whirrs are getting louder, sounding like an Amtrak rolling down the tracks of her mind. Her forehead crinkles and her thin, arched eyebrows almost touch. She gets back in the bed, holds my hands in hers, asks, “So, you’re open to new things?”
    â€œDefine new.”
    â€œMultitasking lovemaking.”
    â€œDon’t turn into a nerd. What does that mean?”
    â€œLike in all those films we watched together, it would be erotic to have both of you please me. Have me please both of you. I think I’m more interested in trying to please the both of you than the other way.”
    Words come, but my lips don’t move. “You’re talking about a menage à trois.”
    I blink a few times. My hands are still in hers.
    She pulls her lips in. “Well? Give me some feedback.”
    â€œHave you and your friend done that before?”
    â€œNo. It would be my first time trying something like that.”
    â€œHer first time?”
    â€œAs far as I know. But you never know what people do when you’re not around.”
    â€œTrue. Only know what people let you see.”
    â€œWould it be yours?”
    Silence is my answer. I go to the service bar, get a bottle of water.
    She asks, “How do you feel right now?”
    â€œLike I’ve been suckered into an Amway meeting.”
    I’m not really thirsty, just have to move with my thoughts. In two gulps, the bottle is empty.
    With softness she asks, “Would being able to experience something that wonderful turn you off?”
    â€œIs that what your friend wants?”
    â€œWhatever, wherever, whenever. I never hesitated to please you, to help you get to the next level of satisfaction, because I love you. Not because I thought you wanted a slave or a serf, because of love.”
    â€œCan I ask you something?”
    â€œAsk away.”
    The phone rings, slows our roll. I answer. No one is there.
    My tongue traces my gum.
    She repeats, “Ask away.”
    â€œYou go down on her?”
    â€œAmIacarpet-licker?”
    â€œYou eat her out or what?”
    â€œDon’t believe you asked me that.”
    â€œBelieve it.”
    â€œWhy ask me that of all things?”
    â€œBecause... that’s what I see in my dreams.”
    She puffs air. “Pussy is scary. It looks like a monster.”
    â€œOne man’s god is another man’s monster.”
    â€œIt’s still ugly. Like roast beef.”
    â€œYours is a pretty nice cut. Grade-A all the way.”
    â€œThanks. I think.”
    She never answers my question. She’s tapping her fingers on her flesh, arms folded under her breasts, and I don’t press the issue. I’m thinking about her pussy, about how I set it on fire. When I’m with her, she tells me that she’s mine, but my heart tells me that it’s the part of her beyond the pussy I can’t reach.
    She tells me, “It’s not gonna be a nasty, free-for-all kinda thing.”
    â€œWhat would it be?”
    â€œSensual. Sharing. Erotic.”
    â€œWhat’s in this for me?”
    â€œIt’ll squash