Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/C/CONNIE.1

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 29.3 KB | 439 lines

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     Midway through my first year of graduate study at Berkeley, a paper
I had submitted was accepted to be read at the June conference of the
Western Social Sciences Association in San Diego.
I was excited and Alex was happy for me, too; in our eyes, anything one
of us did reflected equally on the other.  But when June arrived, Alex had
her hands full revising her senior thesis so she could graduate that summer,
and I had to fly down alone.  I've never sought out crowds, but neither do
I particularly enjoy traveling by myself.  If a place is worth visiting at
all, it's probably an experience worth sharing with someone else.  Well,
what the hell, I could manage two days, I thought -- but I wouldn't
bother with the beach or Balboa Park.
     A couple hours after leaving Oakland International, I stood near the
end of a long, serpentine queue before the front desk of the conference
hotel, trying to calculate how long it would be before I could relax in my
room.  An hour at least, maybe two.  The line shifted a bit and I picked
up my overnighter and my attach case, took one step forward, and set them
down again.  I sighed and let my vision drift out of focus, but a tinkling,
elfin laugh just in front of me brought my attention back.  I had paid no
attention to the girl ahead of me in line and I realized now it was partly
because the top of her head barely reached my chin.  I had looked right
over her head and sighed practically in her ear!  As she turned and grinned
up at me over her shoulder, her silky black hair, cut in a medium-length
pageboy, shone with reflected light from the lobby chandeliers.  Her face
looked as smooth and flawless as translucent porcelain the shade of
sandalwood or cinnamon.  The longest, thickest lashes I had ever seen --
I knew intuitively they were genuine -- shaded a pair of black-brown
elliptical eyes so hypnotically ancient and deep their twinkle seemed
incongruous.  Her small mouth was enhanced by brilliant red lipstick.
She wore a straw-colored linen suit over a white silk blouse, both
businesslike and alluring.  I took in all this in less than a second.
     "Maybe we'll have to sleep here in the lobby tonight," she laughed.
Her voice was bell-like but included a nameless quality that I was sure
would grab any man by the throat, the heart, and the balls, all at the same
moment.  No accent, either, so she wasn't an exchange student (I took it
for granted, on no evidence at all, that this tiny beauty wouldn't be a
faculty member somewhere.)  Without her two-inch heels I guessed she
couldn't be taller than 4' 10", but she was so properly proportioned that
she seemed not short but doll-like.  A clich, I know, but even clichs are
founded in truth.  She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and tilted her
head quizzically.  I was suddenly aware of my loosely drooping jaw and the
fact that I was staring down at her.  I could feel the flush rising above
my collar.
     "Uh, yeah -- I mean, they'll, uh....  I'm sorry -- I sound like an
idiot."  I swallowed and tried to regroup my scattered thoughts.
     "Let me try again," I apologized.  The twinkle in her eye was
brighter; she *knows* she has this effect on men, I thought.  "I think it's
going to take another hour, at least, to get to the front of this line, and
I don't think we're likely to lose our places."  Only two other registrants
stood behind us.
     I made a joking half-bow.  "Would you allow me to buy you a drink so
we can wait this out in comfort?"  Because it's unexpected, European
formality frequently gets an American woman's attention.
     "You've got a deal!"  We parked our bags behind the velvet retaining
rope at one side of the lobby, walked into the bar, and took a small table
in the quieter area at the back.  As I held her chair for her, I belatedly
introduced myself.
     She held out a small, elegantly manicured hand and I took it
carefully.  "I'm Connie Liang, University of Hawaii."  Her palm was cool
and satiny.  I'm only a bit above average size, but this lady made me feel
like a 280 lb. linebacker.  Her surname was obviously Chinese, but she
appeared to be a more exotic blend of Japanese, southeast Asian,
Polynesian, and probably a little European.  A typically Hawaiian
background, in other words.  We chatted over a couple of bottles of Bass
and she told me she about the graduate work she was doing in social
anthropology.  She was also in San Diego to read a paper.  From remarks she
made I re-estimated her age upward; she had to be a year or two older than
I was.  Her voice was wonderfully musical and I resolved to attend her
session, regardless of its subject, just to hear her read.
     After a little while, I rose and peered out at the lobby.  The line
was down to almost no one now, so I paid the tab and we retrieved our bags
and checked in.  Connie was on the 10th Floor and I was on the 11th.  On
the way up in the empty elevator, Connie mentioned with elaborate
casualness that she thought she might just go down to the pool deck of the
5th Floor and "splash around a little."  I caught her calculating sidelong
glance and allowed as how I might just do the same thing.  She flashed me
what I hoped was a promising smile as she got off at her floor.
     During the few seconds between the 10th and 11th Floors, all by myself
in the car, I had a sudden, unnerving conviction that Alex was standing
beside me.  The feeling was so strong I actually turned my head to ask her
how she had gotten there -- and as I did, she vanished, leaving behind an
amused chuckle, like a Cheshire cat.  Her voice whispered in the back of my
skull.  "Michael, don't worry about it ... have fun, enjoy yourself!  I
won't be angry.  Don't you know me any better than that?"
     Yes, I did know her better than that.  All the years we were growing
up together, learning about love and sex together, we were nevertheless out
there dating other people and sampling considerable sexual variety.  I
learned early not to be jealous when my sister quietly slipped in from a
late date radiating a lingering orgasmic flush or when she rinsed some
guy's cum out of her mouth with ginger ale.  Nor was she anything but
pleased when I came home with my zipper still half-open and my fingers
smelling of another girl's cunt.  Often she wound up in my bed or I in
hers, sharing our experiences and still aroused and primed by the evening's
adventures.  I must be feeling guilty, I thought.  Weird.  Why should I
feel I'm betraying my sister just because I'm attracted to such a terrific
girl?  Ridiculous.  The elevator door slid open and I hurried down the hall
to my room, trying to remember if I had packed my swimming trunks.

                        *   *   *   *   *

     Thirty minutes later I was walking out on the pool deck in a polo
shirt and my Hawaiian-print jams (good unintentional planning, I thought),
with a hotel bath towel draped artfully about my neck.  It was a half-hour
till dusk, my favorite time for swimming and beach-strolling, and there
were only eight or ten other people present, laughing and talking in two
groups up at the shallow end.  Everyone else would be at dinner.  I glanced
around but didn't see Connie.  Either she'll come or she won't, I thought,
and hung my towel and shirt over the back of a deck chair.
     I sat down on the pool curbing next to the diving board and cautiously
stuck one foot in the water.  Great -- the pool was heated!  I glanced
again at the glass doors; still no Connie.  Ah, well.  I took a breath and
pushed off into the deep end, headed straight for the bottom.  When my feet
touched the cement eight feet below, I crouched down with my knees bent. I
paused a few seconds, enjoying the null gravity sensation.  Then I uncoiled
and shot myself back to the surface, arms at my sides, arching over
backward to smack my shoulder blades against the water.  My "humpback
whale" trick, Alex called it.  Childish, probably, but half the fun of a
swimming pool is in not acting like an adult.
     Then I heard that silvery laugh again, accompanied by a patter of
applause, and I looked up.  Connie had arrived while I was underwater. I
splashed the few yards to the side of the pool and hooked my elbow over the
edge.  She was wearing a one-piece smooth silver suit (to go with the
laugh, I thought inanely), cut in a deep V almost to her navel, that
contrasted sharply with her light brown skin and black hair.
     She knelt and tried not to giggle.  "Tell me ... did you do that on
'porpoise'?"
     I rolled my eyes, groaned in the expected manner, and reached out as
if to grab her ankle and fling her into the pool.  She skipped back a few
steps grinning and waved me farther away from the diving board.  She
stepped onto the board, adopted a serious expression, and shook out her
fingers as if preparing for a difficult dive.  As she paced out to the end,
looking every bit an Olympian, I saw that the back of her suit was scooped
very wide and low; only the thinnest of straps crossed vertically over her
shoulders and had the back been cut any lower she would have revealed a
second cleavage.  There were no tan marks, of course, to spoil the gently
rippling surface of her upper body.  She took a precisely placed bounce on
the end of the board and I expected to see a 2-1/2 twist or something
equally spectacular.  On the way up, she touched her pointed toes with her
fingertips, arms and legs absolutely straight -- a form obviously the
result of many hours of practice.  But at the peak of her arc, she suddenly
tucked herself into a perfect, slowly spinning cannonball and hit the
surface of the water with a splash that caused a small tsunami at the other
end of the pool!
     I pushed out to the end of the board and reached up for an ape-hang  as
she paddled back from her point of impact.
     "I can't think of a horrible pun just now," I grinned, "but I'll give
that one a 9.9!"  She reached me and rested a hand on my shoulder for
buoyancy, and I added in a softer voice, "And I have to give you a 10 just
for looking the way you do."
     She smiled more intimately and ran her other hand across my chest
beneath the surface, pausing to trace a circle around each nipple with a
fingertip.  "You're not so bad yourself, big boy."
     Where did she get this dialogue?  Well, I'd seen quite a few old films
myself.  "I'll bet you say that to all the boys who are a foot taller than
you."
     She nodded slightly in approval as if I had just passed a test.
"Speaking of 'taller', you might be standing on the bottom for all I know,
but my legs are getting tired."
     "Want to get out of the pool?"  I hoped not, not yet.
     "No, it's too warm in here and too cold out there.  Just let me shift
into my barnacle routine."
     Her legs, which had been slowly scissor-kicking, slid up and wrapped
themselves around my right thigh.  At the same time, she twisted around to
face me at an angle and now one knee was pressed in friendly fashion
against my crotch.  In the water, her clinging suit had become
semi-transparent.  I was very much aware of her dark nipples erect beneath
the cloth, especially since one was being pressed firmly into my ribs.
Even in the warm water, I could feel my cock stirring.  Her left arm
slipped around my back and her thumb hooked itself casually over the
waistband of my trunks.  I steadied my grip on the end of the diving board.
I didn't care if my arm developed a permanent cramp, I was attached to
that board as long as Connie wanted to stay in the pool.
     I put my free arm around her and stroked my palm up and down the
smooth resiliency of her back.  I could feel the subtle muscles that come
with regular swimming.  Other muscles were shifting slightly in her thighs
and calves.  There were other activities besides swimming that that
well-maintained body was expert at, I was sure.  My hand slid downward
across the small of her back, past the edge of her suit, and I paused and
watched out of the corner of my eye for her reaction.  She squeezed my
thigh between hers, so I continued down over the curve of her small,  firm
ass.  She brushed her nose across the top of my chest and leaned in closer.
My chest was right at surface level and my nipples had hardened, both from
being in the water and from her previous attention to them.  She submerged
a few more inches and fastened her lips around one nipple, sucking as if it
were a soda straw, while her hand moved from my chest down to my abdomen.
Connie's aggressive ideas of foreplay were a revelation even to me, and the
experience was very arousing.
     After several minutes of mutual stroking and caressing, she climbed up
and breathed into my ear, which produced a wave of delightful shivers down
my neck.  "Why don't we move up toward the other end?" she whispered.
     I watched the last of the other pool inhabitants gathering up towels
ad sandals and strolling back into the building.  It was full dusk now,
and the pool's underwater lights had come on, but they weren't too
bright.
     "Sounds good to me," I replied.
     Connie adoitl unwrapped herself and headed for the four-foot marker
with long, powerful strokes.  After a few moments of stretching my abused
left arm, I set out after her.
      When I arrived, she had her back to the pool wall and her legs spread
wide.  "C'mere," she said softly.  As I moved in and put my arms around her
torso, she wrapped her legs loosely around my waist and hooked her wrists
behind my neck.  Her kiss was long and sensuous, accompanied by rhythmic
movements of her crotch against my groin.  Alex and I nearly always moved
to each other by mutual but unspoken consent, we had been together so long.
Connie's aggressive style of sex play was new to me and I found it both
exhilerating and very erotic.
     I gripped both cheeks of her perfect ass and pressed her harder to me.
She raised herself up a little and I attempted to suck her nipples out
through the surface of her suit.  She grabbed a shock of my hair in her
teeth and tugged my head up, then wiggled her tongue between her lips in
invitation.  She was expecting a deep kiss, but instead I grabbed her
tongue with my lips, as I had done her nipples a moment before, and sucked.
I was trying to match her "surprise" style of foreplay by making it up as I
went along -- and with that move I succeeded.  Her dark eyes widened. She
wrapped both arms around my head, crushed her mouth hard against mine, and
strained to push her surprisingly long tongue down my throat.  She growled
a little and both our mouths vibrated.
     Her thighs tightened around my waist and I wondered in passing if I would
end up with a cracked vertebra.  She mashed her crotch so hard against my
cock I was certain I could feel the lips of her cunt on either side of it,
even through both our suits.  After a few minutes of convulsive dry-humping
she seemed to regain her senses enough to realize that I was becoming very
short of breath.  She loosened her scissor grip and pulled her head back to
stare into my eyes.  Her lips were parted and her lipstick was smeared all
over her mouth.  She continued to grasp and tug and release my hair with
both hands.
     "Oh, you're beautiful!  Where have you been all my life?"  Her voice
shook a little.
     Another clich, but this time I had an answer.  "I've been waiting to
meet a water sprite, and here you are," I replied.  I combed my fingers
back through that shining black hair.  "If you're planning to lure me away
to the bottom of the sea, I'm ready to go."
     Connie was regaining control of her voice now.  "How's your room?
Single or double occupant?"
     "Just me and a double bed," I replied.
     "Then I think we ought to get in out of this cool breeze.  For our
health.  And my bed's King-size."
     I hadn't been paying attention to the weather, but she was right. The
cool San Diego night breeze was giving me goosebumps.  I waded on up the
slope of the shallow end and went carefully up the steps; Connie still had
her arms and legs wrapped around me.  She was so small I could have carried
her back to the room that way, but I didn't want to risk running into a
senior faculty member with a beautiful girl plastered across my front like
broe armor.  She must have had the same thought because she suddenly let
go of me, landing perfectly poised and reaching for her towel.  I was
certain now that she must have had gymnastics training -- every move she
made, every step she took, was so effortlessly graceful.  I doubted that
she had ever stumbled or tripped in her life.  I admired her as much as
I lusted for her.
     We kissed again in the elevator between floors until an older couple
got on.  Then we stood silently in the back of the car, Connie in front of
me.  I was running my open hands over her ass while she reached back to
caress my cock through my trunks.  We both squirmed but neither of us made
a sound.  When we got off at the 10th Floor, Connie looked up and down the
hall, saw no one and immediately pinned me to the wall with her body.  I
assumed she was going to kiss me again and I began to lean down, but
instead she stuck out her tongue and painted a wet stripe up the front of
my throat, Adam's apple to chin.  She giggled and trotted away up the
corridor while I stood frozen by the burning mark. I had to hurry to catch
up.  Nobody had ever better take *this* woman for granted, I thought.
     Inside the room, Connie's first move was to lock and bolt the door.
I flicked on the overhead light but she turned it off again and switched
on only the small bedside reading lamp.  Now it was dim.  She pushed me gently
back to sit on the edge of the bed.  Then she spread her knees and sat
astride my lap, leaning back on her heels so she could scan my face.  I put
my hands along the sides of her damp thighs to balance her, and she played
with the hairs on the backs of my wrists.  Her expression had become serious.
     "Michael, you seem like a sweet guy, not the sort to try to take
advantage of me."  I raised an eyebrow and she smiled; who was taking
advantage of whom?   "I mean, I don't think you'd try to force yourself on
me.  So I'm going to tell you some things up front that you ought to  know
about me.  First, I'm not as crazy as I sometimes act.  I'm smart, I'm
successful at whatever I do, and I'm on my way up in my field.  I do act
silly when I feel like it, and today I just kinda feel like it.
     "Second, I like sex -- no, I *adore* it.  I enjoy acting sexy, by
myself or with a man -- if I like him.  I sure like you.  I guess I'm just
a sensual person.  But that doesn't mean I'm an easy lay; no one carves
another notch on his cock with me!  I've had two serious love affairs in
the past five or six years and perhaps a dozen one- or two-night stands. I
even made it with a complete stranger once -- spur of the moment, fifteen
minutes of fantasy, bam, and I'm gone.  But I'm usually very picky; it's
been more than a month since I fucked a guy and a couple weeks since I
even kissed anyone.  Do you understand what I'm saying?"
     "I think you're saying," I replied, "that you'd like to spend some
time with me -- I hope you will -- but that it's your choice to make." I
shrugged.  "Well, it always is, isn't it?  The woman's choice, I mean." I
patted her legs lightly in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture.
     "Connie, I like women, almost all women, beautiful or not.  And I
respect them -- if that makes any sense right now.  Rape is not my thing.
Seduction, maybe, but that's a game, and both sides take their chances; if
it comes out right, nobody loses.  I think *I'm* the one who's being
seduced this time, and I don't mind at all.  We don't know each other well
enough yet for you to tell the difference between my brand of flattery and
the honest truth -- but I tell you honestly and truthfully that you are one
of the most absolutely beautiful and desirable women it's ever been my good
fortune to meet.  We'll play by your rules, I promise."
     I took her by the shoulders and began to bring her within kissing
range, but she stopped me.  "Third," she said.  I waited.
     "I hate to hurt the man I'm with as much as I love having fun with
him, as long as it lasts.  I've been in love twice, or I thought I was, and
both of us were hurt each time it ended.  I'm not fool enough to think
anyone can predict that they will or won't fall in love, and I don't
believe in 'love at first sight' anyway."  I could see some painful
memories behind her infinitely dark eyes.
     "If I get involved with a guy, for a few weeks or even a few hours,  I
won't run around on him.  I don't mind a little *temporary* possessiveness
in a man -- in fact, I take it as a compliment.  I can be possessive, too!"
She flashed another smile.  "But I understand the difference between
sex-for-mutual-pleasure and real love.  A couple of the guys I've had
flings with have become friends even without the sex; they recognized when
that relationship ended and became something else, and they accepted it."
She took my face in her hands and looked at me with an expression that
begged me to understand.
     "Don't decide you're in love with me, okay?  I don't *want* to be in
love, not now.  If it happens, it happens, but I don't want anyone getting
hurt!"
     I took her hands and kissed them, and tried to match her earnestness.
"Connie, I have a girlfriend back in Berkeley.  We've known each other and
lived together for a long time, and we love each other very much.  We're
not married, but I think of her as my other half.  In fact, I was a little
depressed when she couldn't come down here with me -- until I met you in
the registration line."  Her eyebrows rose another fraction.  "You just now
laid it on the line for me, in advance of anything that might happen
between us," I continued, "just to be sure I understood what was going
on here.  That's very unusual and it's very honest.  That girl back home owns
my heart absolutely -- but she's a very smart lady, too, and she knows from
experience that sex-for-fun is temporary, like a ferris wheel.  You have
fun for awhile, you enjoy the ride, and then you go back home to the one
who loves you.  She's gone round on the ferris wheel a few time herself,
and I always welcome her back with a smile and a kiss.  Do you see?  I
don't own her body -- I couldn't even if I wanted to -- but it doesn't
matter, because I know, absolutely *know*, that she loves me.  Neither she
nor I has ever had anything to be jealous about."
     I couldn't tell whether Connie quite believed I was telling her the
truth or not.  "In my attach case over there is a copy of my conference
registration form, with my home phone number on it.  If you like, you can
call her up and talk to her.  Her name is Alex.  She's as different from
you as the sun is from the moon, but she enjoys sex, too, believe me. She
might even make a few suggestions."
     Still sitting astride my lap and holding my hands, Connie just looked
at me for another minute.  I could practically hear the balance scales
clink in her head as she weighed out the possibilities.  Then she smiled
broadly, pushed me onto my back, and began kissing and nibbling at my
throat.  I was glad she had decided to believe me because what I'd told her
was the truth.
     "Your suit seems to have dried," I commented as I slid my hands up and
down her back.  "But mine's getting clammy.  How about first things first?"
     She rolled off, laughing, and I stood up and unknotted the string in
the front of my trunks.  Connie bounced off the bed and pushed my hands away.
     "No, no, no!  Let me do that; I enjoy unwrapping presents!" Barefoot,
she came only to the middle of my chest, but her arms circled my waist and
her hands slid down under my jams and squeezed my ass.  She knelt and
pulled my trunks slowly down.  When my reanimated cock sprang up, she made
clacking sounds with her teeth and lunged playfully at it.
     "Down, Toto, down!" I laughed.  I hadn't meant it literally, but she
obediently lay on her back on the floor, arms outstretched, legs slightly
apart, her hair scattered around her face.  I stood over her, reached down,
and slid the silvery straps off her shoulders.  She raised her arms and I
carefully pulled her bathing suit away from her breasts and down to her
hips, like peeling a banana.  She raised her legs straight upward, pointing
her toes as she had when she dived off the board.  I worked the silver suit
quickly down her legs, untangled it from her ankles, and tossed it on the
bed.  Then I simply stood and looked down at this perfect, miniature Venus.
     She saw the open admiration in my eyes and proceded to give me the
complete tour.  Her breasts were small but in proportion to all the rest of
her, and they quivered firmly.  She cupped them in her hands, rubbed her
dark brown nipples between her fingers, and sighed.  Her legs were still in
the air; she spread them slowly and curled her ass up a little.  Her pubic
hair formed a tiny black rectangle ending just above her cunt.  Her clit
seemed as erect as my cock, protruding from the cocoa folds of her lips.
She curled her body smoothly to one side and I stepped back out of her way
as she suddenly became a three-sided pyramid -- ass at the apex, legs still
stretched out, the tips of her toes digging into the carpet, her back
perfectly straight, arms cushioning her head.  She curled her toes inward
and her tiny asshole opened invitingly.  Connie was exposing to me
everything her body had to offer, and the array of possibilities was
impressive.  Her small frame, combined with her high degree of physical
conditioning and her obvious willingness to share it all with me, was
making me lightheaded.
     Without conscious decision, I knelt between her slender, perfectly
turned legs and thrust my tongue into her cunt, flicking it against her
clit on the way in.  She jerked slightly and I felt her thighs quiver
against my ears.  I wrapped a hand around the front of each knee, to
balance her, and continued to stir my tongue around in her bare little
cunt, which was now beginning to drip with her juices.  I remembered the
wetness of her mouth on my throat, out in the hall, and now my tongue moved
slowly, wetly, from the bottom of her cunt up toward her asshole.  A girl
like this would always be absolutely clean, I knew that.  As my tongue
traveled the last smooth brown inch between her legs she moaned softly and
trembled again.
     When I reached the rim of her puckered anus I paused for a moment, and
not just to build the suspense.  Rimming was something I seldom did, and
then only with Alex.  I knew many women were uneasy about it.  Yet Connie
hadn't stopped me; in fact her quivering tautness convinced me this was
something she would really enjoy.  My tongue began tracing rings around the
rim of the deepest opening in her body and I could feel her heart rate
increase and her breathing become ragged.  Then I plunged it as hard and as
far into her ass as I could, burying my face again and again between her
cheeks, and I could hear her half-sobs of passion.  I became aware of
spasms ricocheting between her cunt and her ass as the orgasm carried her
away.
     After a minute, I gently helped her to lie down with her stomach flat
on the carpet.  Her back was arched and her groin rose at an angle in my
lap.  Her knees, locked straight for so long, were now bent with her toes
pointed away from me.  My cock, still erect and throbbing, tapped lightly
against the half-open slit but I made no attempt to push it into her,
though I could hardly ignore the enticing aroma of the wetness that beaded
the back of her crotch.  I quietly stroked her ass and her thighs, and I
threaded my fingers between her toes and felt the tough smoothness of the
soles of her tiny feet.  Finally, she attempted to get up but her position
was awkward for anything other than what we had been doing.  I rolled her
over on her back and stood, scooping her up in my arms as I rose; she
weighed so little, it was like a lifting a little girl.  I knew that was
part of what attracted me to her; she undoubtedly knew it too.  I laid her
on the bed on her back and settled next to her on my side, head propped on
one hand so I could continue to look at her.  Her eyes had been closed in
momentary exhaustion, but now they opened and I was favored with a warm,
dreamy smile.  She held up her arms and I lay down with my face next to
hers and her arms around my neck.
     "He followed me home, Ma; can I keep him?"  She kissed me once,
lingeringly, and then nuzzled my ear with her nose.
     "How did you know something like that would turn me on so?  *I* didn't
know it."  Her full voice was bell-like, but her whisper was husky.  She
nibbled my earlobe and sighed happily.
     "It wasn't just a lucky guess," I said, as my hand traveled down her
back, pressing her warm body against mine.  "Besides, a gentleman always
lets a lady cum first."
     "What do you mean, it wasn't a 'lucky guess'?"
     I was still down by one horrible pun.  "Well, being an Island girl, I
figured you couldn't resist a Pacific rim...."
     She groaned and laughed softly in my ear; then she licked one finger
and marked a score in the air.  "That's a hell of a start, but we've got
all night to try and top it.  Don't we?"  She hugged me affectionately.
     "We certainly do," I replied, and hugged her back.