Marge Sailen - Swap On Deck

"Rock of Ages, cleft for me

Let me hide myself in thee… "

That's her apartment all right-20B. And that's her guitar and her voice. But what the fuck's she singing?

Omigod. "Rock of Ages." You thought she was a little straight but this is too much. Is she going to do that in her next gig? Maybe it's her answer to Judy Collins and "Amazing Grace"?

"Be of sin the double cure Save from guilt and make me pure… "

Make me pure? Ugh! Well, you've come this far, you may as well ring the bell. You can't hit a nympho on every first date, you know.

"Come in! It's open!"

Anyhow, if this doesn't work you can always call up Marilyn at about midnight and…

Holy shit instant erection motherfucker she's nude!

Dressed how?

Undressed!

Cunt!

Close Your Mouth You Stupid Shit She's Loony And Besides Haven't You Ever Seen A Cunt Before?

No Don't Ask Her To Pirouette So You Can Check Out Her Ass Too!

Just walk in and close the door calmly and say something nonchalant.

No Don't Yell Something Nonchalant!

How about… ulp… "Hi."

Whew. Got that one out. Now it's up to her. Something's up to you, too, and it's going to split your zipper if you don't look away from all that creamy flesh spilling out from behind her guitar.

"Hi."

Piss. Up to you again.

How does she get so casual? With those firm little-no, medium-tits poking their nipples straight at you? The nipples are very red. Are they even a little bit erect?

"I see you're not dressed yet." Brilliant. That'll win you a Pulitzer for sure. (Aha! The lady smirketh!)

Man is this weird. You'd better sit down before you fall down. And crawl over and start nibbling her snatch.

Come to think of it that's an appealing idea.

That's some appealing snatch.

Wait… she's going to talk.

"I got carried away with… uh… rehearsing."

That's right. Nod diffidently. Make like this is nothing, it happens all the time, your groin is not jelly, and you'll ball her in three-tenths of a second if she gives you the slightest provocation.

"Well I didn't make any dinner reservations, so that's fine. I thought we'd just… ulp… play it by ear." What the hell, she set it out there, you may as well stare at it. "Really, it is fine." No use giving her the impression that you're not appreciative. But what the hell's going on in her head? Maybe she knew you'd want to get into her pants and decided to foil you? Yikes! No Pants! What Do You Do Now?

Or maybe she's a genuine religious-type nudist. Maybe you're supposed to take off your clothes and ask her if she wants to play backgammon.

She's smirking again. She's got beautiful lips. Thin and soft and animated. Smirking becomes them.

This has got to be some kind of joke. A pornographic Candid Camera? Where's it hidden?

If she's crazy enough to greet you in the nude singing "Rock of Ages" on your first date maybe she's crazy enough to bite your balls off in the clutch. But she looks pretty sane.

That's it. Get down into that chair across the coffee table from the couch. She's going to sit on the couch and you'll have a beautiful pussy-shot without blowing your cool. And maybe you'll be able to cross your legs before she sees you're gradually coming in your pants. (Nice apartment she's got. High ceilings… lots of natural wood and brass and rich upholstery… antiques… deep carpets… beautiful view out over the park from those bay windows… looks like four or five big rooms… Say Something!

"Nice body you've got there."

That was hardly too risquй, considering. She seems to appreciate her body too. Even looks down at it as she says "Thanks."

She's not looking at you so you can cop a quick hard stare.

Her hips are just a trifle large and womanly. What a relief from all those skinny-assed model-types! And there's a pronounced undulating curve from her belly down to that fluffy patch of auburn crotch-hair… which is distributed just right. Not so thick that it looks like a jungle and hides everything (those kind always get hairs stuck in your teeth) and not so thin that it looks like a lawn that's been mowed with the blades too close to the ground. You can clearly make out the generous bulge of her pale cuntlips through it.

Nothing sloppy about her cunt, though. No loose ends dangling out of place. But nothing mean about it, either. Nice and ripe. Like an apple that's been picked at just the right instant. Is that something like what old Adam got caught in his throat?

Ah… she's sitting down.

"You know, I'm not exactly used to beautiful chicks answering the door in the nude… hahahahaha… except for their guitars… hahaha… and, uh, it's sort of a low blow… "

Point to the lump in your pants. Better to get on top of things than to try to be subtle, right? She's running a quick erection-check anyhow. (Would you have called that stare "pointed"? Hell no! It didn't hurt, did it?)

"Hahahahaha."

Nice laugh she's got. Full and throaty but with nice musical overtones.

"I'm not used to doing things like this either. In fact this is the first time I've ever done anything this zany in my life. But I was feeling in this bored sort of mood."

Funny thing. Is this some kind of test to see if you're as cool as you pretend to be? Well, that could work both ways. "What would you think if you'd come by my place tonight and I'd answered the door with my dork hanging out?"

Funny thing all right. All she can do is giggle and get a little bit red in the face.

"I'd have run like hell screaming for the cops."

One point for you. But that's not the point.

"So may I ask what you expected to come of all this?"

Well said. Brightly enough, and you got to use your favorite impish smile-along with a little face-saving sarcasm. Good pun, too, if she wants to pick up on it.

"Probably you."

Boing! Scramble Those Fighters! Let The Dogs Off The Leashes! Shovel That Coal And Get That Steam Up! Rev That Engine And Pop That Clutch! Hey Joe, Hand Me Those Water Balloons! There's gonna be a hot time in the old groin tonight!

"I hope you thought to include yourself."

Beautiful smile. Coy? Almost shy. Really quite charming. You hit it just right.

Here you go. Wait till later to find out whether her brain's on the fritz. Her body's a dream and it's coming… true? This is really going to be something.

Andrea Bentham slipped the strap of her guitar over her head and laid the instrument gently on a bearskin rug to the right of the couch. Without it she felt five times as naked as she had before. She let her ass drift gently down to rest on the antique blue brocade of the cushions and exhaled slowly, looking Sean Michaels up and down with an amused look of frank appraisal.

Sean had been knocked silly in the head for just about five seconds. His eyes hadn't crossed; he hadn't blubbered incoherently; he hadn't melted into a puddle of lukewarm semen on the floor. But she was giggling inside anyhow. Her instincts had been perfect. She'd sized him up after two brief and casual meetings as the kind of suave super-stud who'd have to keep his cool upstairs even though there was a biological conflagration in the basement… a guy who always approached girls like her with his Standard Seduction Plan greased up and ready to go into operation. Take a taxi cab to X restaurant, have Y number of Z drinks, put in W minutes of earnest personal conversation leavened with V minutes of abstract intellectual discussion, have U to eat, (YOU only later), polished off with T liqueur, and pop the question: "Like to come back to my place for a while?" I've got some (beautiful) (lovely) (excellent) (original) S's you might be interested in."