" There was a certain hesitation on her face." There was a certain hesitation on her face. "Does it bother you that I watch dirty movies sometimes?" "It should not," she said. "But..." She fell silent, realized it and downed almost half of her Irish coffee. She set down the mug. "And still you do not ask questions. But don't you want to know?" "What you want me to know, you'll tell me." Impulsively, she leaned up and kissed me on the lips. It was just affection and gratitude, nothing erotic in it, even if the robe did part and give me a view of those lovely tits I'd been licking not too long before. She suddenly laughed. "So many men think a woman wants a twelve- inch penees. Especially since I come here, to Brooklyn. Men see me and grab their pants and tell me they've got a twelve-inch cock for me. They don't know how much a big cock can hurt a woman." "Sabrina's father had a big cock and hurt you?" She looked at me in wonder and shook her head. "Her father. You never ask about him. And you don't say he was my husband." "Livinia, I am observant and I'm a fairly smart guy and I read a lot. I know you didn't get a graduation ring from New York University by graduating there -- not to be working in a laundromat in Brooklyn. I know you're not married, because the wedding band is never there when you're with Sabrina or me -- and it's much too big for your finger. Besides, it keeps going on the wrong hand every so often. I know you go to church regularly because I saw the stack of bulletins from St. Anthony's in your house and I know enough about your native land to know that Catholicism is taken seriously there. I know you're a single mother, I know you're an immigrant and I don't give a damn, because I think your sweet and sexy and a very, very good and strong person." She was staring at me. "Even with this good brandy it is hard to say what I want to tell you. |