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in my yard into a pile and Dahl and I would jump into it over and over. I park in the street and follow her inside. I probably should have asked if she wanted to stop for breakfast after we got her car, but I never thought of it. I was too lost in my thoughts.
    She waits for me to enter then turns to lock the door, and just like that the quiet, shy chick is gone. She slips back into a dominatrix. Her hands slide into my shorts and reach for me. As soon as she’s touching me, I forget about everything except the feel of her hands. Taking my hand she guides me down a dark paneled hall. I stop and lean against the doorjamb of what I presume is her room. This time she doesn’t close the door behind me.
    “Strip now,” she purrs.
    That’s easy enough. I kick my flip-flops to the side, pull my T-shirt over my head, unbutton my shorts and let them fall. Without having put underwear on, I’m naked in an instant. Here’s the thing—it’s fucking daylight out and I’m stone cold sober. “Got anything to drink,” I ask her as she pulls her skirt off and then unbuttons her shirt. Shit, she has big tits. I hadn’t noticed earlier. My dick springs to life when I think of what I can do with those, but I’d still like a drink.
    She walks over and runs her finger up my chest to my chin. “Did I say you could talk?”
    I’m really over her performance by this point. It was fun while it lasted, but that time has passed. A smile crosses her lips as she leans in to kiss me, but I drop my head and start sucking on one of her nipples. She grabs my hair and tangles her fingers through it. I tug on her hard nipple and swipe my fingers up her pussy quickly. She’s not waxed and I wasn’t crazy about it when I was wasted and I’m definitely not crazy about it now, but I’m this far already. Shit, I really prefer fucking at night . . . drunk and in the dark.
    She moans when I swipe across her one last time. “Okay, we can do this your way. I’m fine with that. But it’s your loss.”
    I step back and grin. “I don’t think anyone will be losing.”
    She tugs me toward the bed, but I stay where I am.
    “Where’s the booze?” I ask.
    “Above the refrigerator in the kitchen. I’ll get it for you.”
    “No, I’ll get it. What do you say you lay down and get yourself wet for me?”
    She laughs. But when she asks, “Do you want me to use my hand?” I almost get whiplash. One minute she’s giving the orders and the next she’s asking for mine.
    I leave her on the bed with her fingers circling her clit. The floor tiles are cold on my bare feet as I make my way back to the small kitchen and find a bottle of Jack. Perfect. I open a few cupboards and grab two glasses. Pour and drink. Pour and drink. Pour again. Now, I’m ready.
    I take the two amber filled glasses and head back to the bedroom. She’s lying down with her feet on the floor still going at it. I stand there, watching her.
    She catches me and smiles. “My fingers are so wet right now. I think I’m ready.”
    I knock back another shot and set both glasses down on the nightstand. I grab my shorts, snatch a condom out of my wallet, and roll it on. I’m ready, too.
    When we finish, I stand up. “Where’s the bathroom?”
    She points to a door on the other side of the room. I scoop up my shorts and hit it. Running my tongue over my lip, I taste sweat . . . it tastes good. I feel good. The water runs and I reach for the soap. It’s shaped like a dolphin and it throws me a bit. I use it to scrub my hands and then throw some water on my face. When my eyes scour the counter for a towel, I notice a cartoon toothbrush on it. I swivel my head around the small space and see a fish shaped step stool and an octopus bathmat. ABC foam letters line the tub. Shit, did I just fuck some kid’s mother?
    The room is bright when I open the door and she’s still lying on the bed. I toss her the towel I found and shrug my shirt on before coming to stand over her, pulling the blanket