Lawrence Block - The Girl With the Deep Blue Eyes

There was a diner around the corner from the county offices, and the lunch crowd had thinned down by now. He took a booth in back and studied the mile-long menu, which essentially included every dish the chef/proprietor had ever heard of. The place was called Mykonos, although the original Greek owner had long since sold out to a Chinese couple from Havana. They still had some Greek dishes on the menu, and he’d had the spanakopita once, and it wasn’t bad.

This time he had a cheddar omelet and fries and drank two cups of coffee. Someone had left a copy of USA Today on the next table, and he turned the pages while he ate, but nothing much registered. He was on his second cup of coffee when he remembered to check his phone. It was still on Vibrate, and in his right front pants pocket, with his wallet between it and his thigh. If it ever vibrated, he never felt it.

There’d been a single call at 1:14, there was a seven-word message on his voicemail. “It’s Barb, call me when you can.”

He had his thumb poised to place the call, then stopped himself. No, not just yet.

The Monte Carlo was like an oven. He’d meant to leave a window open, but it was just as well he hadn’t, considering the way it had poured. Now, though, he was paying for it. The car had factory air, it would be hard to find a car anywhere in the state that didn’t, but the years had taken their toll on it. Well, he thought, that was true of everything in the car, including its driver.

Especially its driver.

He drove home, got out of his clothes and under the shower. Afterward he put on a robe and cracked a beer. He thought about Barb Hamill, and what she liked to do, and weighed the pros and cons of having her come over. The beer was about half gone when he picked up the phone and made the call.

It went directly to voicemail. “Doak,” he said, “returning your call,” and rang off.

By the time she called back, the beer can was empty and he was stretched out on the couch, dozing off while an old movie played on his TV.

“I knew it was you,” he said.

“The miracle of Caller ID.”

“No, before I looked. See, I was taking a nap, and I woke up good to go.”

“You mean the little corporal was standing at attention? And that’s on account of it was me on the other end of the phone? Honey, I’m flattered, but knowing you it could’ve been anybody with a pussy.”

“Now that’s not true.”

“Or even a tranny,” she said, “if God had blessed her with a nice ass and a good boob job. Speaking of which, did you ever?”

“Did I ever what? Oh, have a tranny? Christ, no.”

“Why not? I mean, out of curiosity if nothing else. What do they call them? Chicks with dicks? There’s one or two advertise on Craigslist, and I saw a picture one time, and I have to say she had all the ingredients.”

“And then some.”

“You know I’ve never been with a woman, and these days that’s something I almost feel I have to apologize for, like it’s this embarrassing virginity I never got around to losing. But a pre-op tranny might be the best of both worlds.”

“Oh?”

“I could cuddle up to her tits and play with ’em, which would be fun, but one thing about being with a woman is she would probably expect me to eat her pussy, and I’m not sure I’d want to do that, you know? But a tranny wouldn’t have a pussy, not if she was pre-op. She’d have a dick, and you know how I feel about dicks.”

“I remember.”

“Of course I couldn’t expect her to have a dick as nice as yours, but a dick’s a dick, you know? I could suck it while I played with her tits, and maybe if I asked real nice I could get her to fuck me with it. What do you think?”

“I think you should put that perfect ass of yours in your car,” he said, “and bring it over here.”

“Oh, Doak, baby, I wish. That’s what I had in mind when I called, not all this tranny stuff but your dick and some things we could do with it, places we could put it. But that was then, when I had a few unbooked hours staring me in the face, and now I’ve got appointments stacked up clear to dinner. And I’d love to cancel one of them, fuck, I’d love to cancel all of them, but I can’t, I flat can’t.”

“Oh.”

“I got you hot and bothered, didn’t I? Talking like that.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“Well, you’re not the only one. I’m all wet. I’m in my office, I’ve got the door closed, I’ve got half an hour before I have to be anywhere. Hold on a sec, I want to take off my panties. There, that’s better, now I can touch myself. Oh, God, I’m soaking wet.”

“I can imagine.”

“Can you? Are you touching yourself, honey?”

“Yes.”

“You want to take a moment to get a Kleenex? Or a hankie? Of course you wouldn’t need anything if I was there because I’ve got a mouth and an ass and a pussy and you could choose which one you wanted to come in. Oh, Jesus, I’ve got my finger in my ass and my thumb on my clit, and it kills me that I have to waste one hand on the fucking cell phone, but if I put the phone on speaker the whole office could hear us. Is this good, honey? Is it working?”

“It’s working.”

“You know what we could do? You and me, we could tagteam that tranny. She’s just the cutest thing, Doak, blonde hair and perfect skin with an all-over tan, and tits so perfect you’d swear she grew them all by herself, and a gorgeous ass, and you can fuck her in the ass while I suck her cock, oh, and now you’re both fucking me, I’m riding her cock while you’re in my ass, and we’re both fooling with her tits, oh, Jesus...”

“Oh my,” Barb said. “Well, that’s a first. That’s something we never did before.”

“You’re full of surprises.”

“Well, I guess. I keep surprising myself. I came really hard. I hope I didn’t make a lot of noise.”

“You were a perfect lady.”

“I did all the talking, didn’t I? You barely got a word in edgewise. But it was having you there that made it so exciting. I hope you had that Kleenex.”

“Well.”

“Or was it a hankie?”

It was neither, because fairly early on he’d stopped touching himself, and his own excitement had ebbed even as hers had heightened. He’d remained an avid spectator, caught up in her rich fantasy, but the urge to complete the act subsided, and his erection along with it.

“I don’t even know that I’d want to do all that,” she said now. “Or any of it, even. You ever done any kind of threesies?”

“Not lately.”

“But in the past? Two gals and a guy, would be my guess.”

“Every man’s fantasy,” he said, “and when it finally came along it was more awkward than anything else.”

“Oh, now that’s disappointing to hear. The best thing about fantasies is they’re always perfect. Nobody has bad breath, nobody has trouble getting it up. And every orgasm is perfect. Well, mine was pretty great just now.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“And yet,” she said, “there’s a kind of lingering horniness after coming that way. Like I didn’t actually do anything, and I kind of want to.”

“But you’ve got appointments.”

“Oh, I do, and then it’s home and hearth for the duration. Which means hubby’s in line to get one amazing blow job before the day is done.”

“And he’ll never know what inspired it.”

“What he’ll also never know,” she said, “is that all the while I’ll be picturing him with an amazing set of tits. And I’ll have a finger in his butt, which we’ve recently established that he kind of likes, but the man hasn’t got a clue where Mama learned that little trick. Oh, look at the time. I’ve got to get off.”