Best of Best Women's Erotica Read Online Free PDF

streets around the apartment building, relieved that the few people she passes don’t notice her, even though her face is sometimes on the front page of all the newspapers. Where is she? the headlines ask. Even Chandra isn’t sure she knows anymore. The air in the city at night is clear and moist, as though the weight of darkness has pushed all the oil and dust down into the pavement.
    Inside, she stands in Monica’s closet looking out the tiny window at New York’s skyline glittering and flickering through the dark. She’s not afraid because she doesn’t think she’ll need Mike’s doctor friend, whom Monica keeps pushing her to see. Everything seems simple: the baby will just come out and be there, unlike its father.
    Monica brings old textbooks back from her father’s library, books on obstetrics and labor and delivery from a course he took in medical school, and she studies them intently. Even if Chandra isn’t interested, Monica wants to be prepared. Mike’s doctor friend knows a midwife whom Monica consults, a woman named Starbright.
    â€œCall me anytime,” she says. “I’ll just come over to talk, to check her over, or deliver the baby. Whatever she wants. Birth is a natural process.”
    â€œThanks,” says Monica, but she can’t stop worrying.
    Â 
    For Chandra and Monica there is no future because their future is already in the past. Who could do better than having the President lick her twat? Unless it was a congressman doing it. All they have to look forward to is one anticlimax after another.

    â€œI’m really not into this,” groans Chandra when Monica crawls onto her futon her first night back from California. Still, she doesn’t move as Monica licks her belly, from popped navel in a circle down to her cunt, which smells and even tastes like a fresh oatmeal cookie.
    Besides Mike and Bob, Monica has other boyfriends whose names Chandra doesn’t even know. One is a skinny guy with a guitar who seems to be giving Monica music lessons in exchange for sex. Monica plucks away like a good student, and sings a song she wrote:
    Caught in a love drive-by
Spray of bullets in my heart—
Should have been red roses
Oh why did we ever part?
    Â 
    How long can I bleed like this?
Forever and a day.
Try and make me stop —
I’ll blow your head away.
    The boy applauds. “I love it,” he says. “You’ve got that country sound down, but it’s so urban!”
    â€œThat’s me, city eastern via L.A., ” says Monica.
    Chandra longs for a cigarette, though she doesn’t smoke, especially now—just one cigarette to make the little boy go away. But Monica takes him into her bedroom, shutting the door so Chandra can’t watch.
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    One night when Chandra looks out her window, things have changed: there’s a hole in the lights of the city. Something’s
missing from the skyline, but she can’t remember what. She feels cold, as though something more than summer is coming to an end. When Monica finally comes back, it’s noon the next day. Her eyes are swollen and her nose is red.
    â€œWell,” she says, her voice husky. “Neither one of us is ever going to be on the news again. We’re free. Look.” She turns on the television, but Chandra doesn’t want to watch. Instead she stays in her closet and looks out her window as smoke rises from the gap in the skyline.
    The next morning it’s still gray and smoky on the horizon where buildings once stood. Monica leaves early. She does volunteer work now, to help the victims, she says. Bob the fireman is missing and presumed dead. “His poor family,” she says, her voice at the edge of a sob.
    The skinny guitar boy hasn’t been heard from, either, though possibly, like Chandra, he just decided it was time to disappear. Mike drops by every evening but doesn’t stay, and when he leaves, Monica crawls into