Connie’s eyes flutter open, and she gives a little gasp.

She moves to cover herself up. “Jake,” she says, a little surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” I ask her.

Connie squirms over to the edge of the bed, just a little.

“Come here and show me,” she says, parting her lips and reaching out with one long-nailed hand.

I could never say no to her. I come over to the edge of the bed and she gets herself laid out on her back so that her head hangs over at just the right angle. Her lips part, her tongue flickering out eagerly. She works my zipper down with her fingers and gets her lips pressed around my shaft. I don’t know where it comes from, but there’s a condom in her mouth again, and I don’t even know it’s going on until after she’s got half of my rubber-sheathed prick in her mouth. Then she starts taking it down her throat. That angle she’s at, on her back with her head hanging over the edge of the bed, means that it goes down easy, smooth, gentle, without a hint of hesitation. Connie always was real good at this. Connie starts to whimper, low in her throat, as she swallows me.

“Connie,” I make myself say, “I need the money.”

She moves back, easing my cock out of her mouth. She rubs it all over her face, smearing her spittle across her cheeks and messing her makeup. She looks somehow sexier with her mascara and lipstick all wet and gloppy over her face. “Business first,” she whispers. “Then pleasure.”

With that she takes me down again, working my cock down her throat, pumping it in and out. I reach down and touch her breasts, squeezing the pierced nipples. I play with them as she works my cock in and out of her throat. Next thing I know she’s getting me off right in her mouth and then I’m falling forward, stretching out on the bed with her.

“Where’d your dude go?” I ask her.

“Tomorrow’s Mother’s Day, remember? She went to her old man’s place upstate.”

I wonder about that for a minute as I light a Pall Mall. Then I let it go. I look into Connie’s beautiful brown eyes and kiss the soft pink lips with their red mouth painted on and skewed about a half revolution across her chin and cheeks.

“I need the money,” I tell Connie. “I’ve got to get out of town.”

Connie’s eyes get all watery, glistening with lush pain.

“You did him for me,” she says.

“I didn’t ‘do’ anyone,” I tell her.