"Your moon is in Taurus. Expect a day like no other." said Julie.
"What?" I asked, looking up from the crossword, pencil poised. Julie lay on the floor, wearing her standard Sunday afternoon kick-around panties and tank top, her voluptuous body pushing out and filling the raggedy underclothing like cantaloupes under sack cloth, curving and rising, with occasional sharp clefts dipping down into deep feminine valleys. Creamy arms and lush legs lewdly sprang out from tight cotton underwear caves. The pale skin of her face and neck, scrubbed and smooth, were as inviting to the teeth as a crisp, white pear.
"Your horoscope." she said, holding the paper above her as she lay on her back, a mess of brown hair splayed on the floor behind her.
"Do you believe in Astrology?" I asked.
"Crap." she said, tossing the paper aside and rolling over. "What are you working on?"
"'Transformation of a liquid into a soft, congealed mass.'"
"Say what?"
I held up the crossword. "Eleven letter word, beginning with 'C'."
"Oh." she replied. "'Coagulation.'"
It had been twenty-four hours since our reconciliation after the Jersey wedding. Twenty-four hours since I told her that she should come with me to meet Bonnie (this night) at the top of the Empire State Building. We'd spent the whole time at my place, making love on the fire escape, and once on the roof, and now we were just lounging about, working our way through the Sunday Times and feeling very lazy and happy.
"You know, if it weren't for that brain of yours I wouldn't have nothin' to do with you." I said, filling the word into the little blocks. "C-O-A-G..."
"Couldn't you just love me for my body?" she asked.
I looked up. She was crawling towards me on her hands and knees, her breasts swaying beneath her, the curve of each naked globe peeking out from the sides of her tank top. Love that.
"Oh yes." I said. "I could do that."
She crawled up to me, shoved aside the paper, unzipped my fly, wrapped her ruby lips around my flaccid penis, and sucked.
Then the phone rang.
Just as well. Things were going so well now I didn't want to blow it (excuse the intended pun) by having lousy intercourse on the couch, what with the blinds closed, and no one watching us from a closet or videotaping us for the nightly news or nothing.
"Hello?" I said, grabbing my nearby cell phone before it could ring again. My cell phone was now our band business phone, and I didn't want to blow (sorry again) a gig because I was getting a lazy Sunday B.J.
"Hello? Is this Freddy?" asked a young, female voice.
"Yes." I said, thinking the voice sounded familiar.
"Hi! It's Mindy! From yesterday?" Then, more softly she added "You know, from the wedding?"
Holy shit! Mindy! She of the bubble-gum and flowered hair and sexy age bracket. Little Mindy who had blown me and received me and will always remember me as "the first"! How could I have been so stupid? How could I have succumbed to her sweet, groupie ardor and my newfound lust for public perversity? The kid was calling me at home, for God's sake, while my girlfriend, my love, my partner in music and life, knelt between my legs, my cock in her mouth, her teeth edging up the shaft as she popped the phallus out with a dribble of sexy saliva and asked, "Who is it?"
I cupped the receiver and whispered the first explanation that came to my muddled head, "Ex-girlfriend."
"Ooooo, really?" said Julie, cupping my balls and slipping me back into her mouth with an even greater enthusiasm for her work.
"Hi, kid." I said into the phone. "Long time no see."
Mindy giggled, as only young girls can. "Yeah, right! It was just yesterday!"
"How'd you get my number?" I asked.
"My sister hired you, remember?" she said simply. "I got the number from her." Sondra was the bride who had hired our band. Mindy was her flower girl. Great! So now an adult knew about our connection. This was getting serious. How was I going to handle this? I pictured myself in jail, doing the prison laundry, wearing an orange jumpsuit and becoming my roommate's "bitch". Fuck!
Julie slurped and gurgled as she sucked, trying to be as loud as possible, her messy brown hair bobbing furiously in my lap.
"I can't really talk." said Mindy, very quietly, "My mother would kill me if he knew I called an older boy."
Older boy? Now I was an "older boy"? Shit!
Wait a minute, I thought, she's eighteen. I remembered now. Unless she was lying. No. She wasn't lying. She was just small for her age, with doe eyes, twiggy legs, a tight, wispy-haired snatch, translucent skin that smelled like baby powder and...
Suck, suck , suck went Julie, about to get a mouth full of cum.
"I just wanted to tell you some things, okay?" she continued. In the background I could hear the Spice Girls brashly belting out some spurious girl anthem.
"Okay." I said, holding Julie's head as it bobbed.
"First thing is, I could barely walk yesterday!" she chuckled sexily. "That was my first time, you know?"
"I know." I said, as Julie grabbed me in her fist, and pumped.
"I just wanted to know," Mindy continued, "was it okay? Did you like -- me?"
I looked down at my saliva coated cock, and Julie's tight fist jerking me off. She looked up at me. Her gray eyes narrowed with lust.