A Stray Woman
At Home
"Once in this cottage there lived a man. His wife was dead, but he still had a small girl and a little, little boy. Even his old mother shared the house."
"Was this man good looking?" Sands voice was laid-back, gleaming with amusement. Red turned away from the sun and squinted at the man in the shadow, all colors faded by the bright light. She settled back into the sunny heat while her thoughts got caught in a current, drifting backward.
When she returned, the answer was quiet and somber. "Yes, he was." She continued with more light. "He was a Mexican, you know? Brown hair, eyes like –eyes of chocolate." The warmth in the last word was fusing with the air. "A bit short, of course, but with my bed kinks-" she paused, teasingly "-that's not necessarily a bad thing."
"Oh please, spare me your sleazy perversations."
"Sure." Red rolled over to her belly, dark eyes glittering at Sands.
He smoked. One – Two – lightening his third cigarette, he asked "Don't you have any social manners, Red?" Exhaling a cloud, "'Spare me' means fill my sick brain with all greasy details, or I'll bite off your fucking clitoris." Sulking, "When we finally fornicate."
"Uh um" Red's dry throat woke a wicked grin, shining in Sands face. "Is that supposed to ensure that you'll never go down on me?"
"Oh common" Sands leaned forward, with an innocent, eager smile, "perve me, perve me, perve me."