We left the stuffy barroom into a cool evening and found my car a block away. Gloria seated herself and fastened her seat belt. "Your car is very clean inside. You can tell a lot about a person by the way he keeps his car."
"So what's yours like?"
"It's a Volvo wagon, and it's a mess. It's got papers and old shoes left over from high school. I guess I'll have to find someone to clean it for me."
I paused for a moment, wondering whether that was supposed to be an overture of some sort. I decided to misunderstand it, and started the engine. "There's a detailing shop around the corner from our place," I said. I pointed the car toward El Camino Real.
"Can you recommend it? Do you or your woman friend use it?"
"I clean both our cars."
"I forgot. You're in
that
kind of relationship, aren't you?" Her tongue loosened by the alcohol, she went straight to the subject with surgical precision. "I'll bet you do the cooking, and the laundry, and the dishes..."
"That's between RoseAnn and I."
"I'm sorry. I'm not taunting you. I'm actually envious of her. I mean, you treat her very well, don't you?"
"I'm content with the situation, and I know she is."
"I'm being too personal, aren't I?"
My brain told me to bring this conversation to a close now, but my cock thought otherwise. After all, RoseAnn had already set a time fuse on our relationship, and I had a future to think of.
"This afternoon, you said that if I tell you something, it'll stay under that beautiful red hair of yours? I trust you to keep to that. You can ask me whatever you want, but I get to ask you questions, too."
"I know you go down on her..."
"Whoa! No subtlety there! How much have you had to drink?"
"I just don't believe in being circumspect about sex. It's silly to talk in circles around such an important subject. We can have a conversation like adults, can't we? Anyway, it wasn't a question. I saw that special chair, and I can smell pussy on you from here. You tried out the chair before coming to the bar tonight, didn't you?"
I sighed. "You know it."
"Does she reciprocate?"
Normally, this would have been over the top, but I'd already begun to open up, and I couldn't stop myself from talking. "No. Except once, which I think was just our excitement running away with us. I don't think she'd have done it if she'd been thinking straight. I don't blame her. It must be kind of disgusting."
"Not for all of us," she said. "I love taking a man's come into my mouth. Every man tastes different; did you know that? And even the same man will taste different from time to time. They say it depends on what he eats."
"No kidding. Where'd you hear that?" I couldn't believe I was having this conversation. But this was California, far from my home planet.
"Turn left at the next street," she said. "I read about it in some sex book. He has to eat a diet with no red meat, no cabbage-type vegetables like broccoli or cauliflower, no garlic or onion. But lots of pineapple and other fruit. Cinnamon, too."
"Bullshit."
"It works. I've done the experiment. Feed 'em pineapple and cinnamon drops, and their come tastes like candy. Try it on RoseAnn and see if she can resist." She giggled and directed me to turn down another street to her home.
Her home was elegant, even by Silicon Valley standards. I'd noticed that homes here tended to be compact, perhaps because of the outrageous cost of land, perhaps because it was possible to spend so much time outdoors. But the Gruendlich house was located on a spacious cul-de-sac lot, with a wide driveway and exterior ground lighting. There were three large flowerbeds, but no grass. Instead, the 'lawn' was made of crushed stone of uniform size.
A heavy oak door led into a tiled hall. There was marble everywhere. The interior was largely open plan, with living room, dining room and kitchen all in the same high-ceilinged space. Gloria seated me on an overstuffed leather sofa and brought two beers from the refrigerator. She sat on the other end of the sofa, her bare feet tucked up under her.
"I paid Joanna, the day nurse, to stay the evening so I could go out," she said. "In a half-hour, I've got to help her get Dad ready for the night. It's kind of messy and smelly, and you'll probably want to leave about then. But for now, you're mine." She smiled brightly.
"This is a nice house."
"My parents did well for themselves. My mother retired as a Colonel in the Army when she became pregnant with me. After that, she consulted with some of those high-priced think tanks here and in D.C. She was killed in a pileup on the 101 seven years ago."
"Oh, God, I'm sorry. That must have been difficult. Are you an only child?"
"And about to inherit a large estate. Although I'd rather have my Dad around for a few more years. I've already got everything I need, and a lot of freedom besides."
"But you decide to take up a tough subject like biochemistry, instead of kicking back and riding on your fortune? That's an admirable thing to do."
"I've seen what happens to people my age who have too much money and no goals. One, two years, and they implode. Drugs, alcohol, bad friends, jail, lawsuits, early death. It's a cliché."
