

It so happened that we didn’t fuck for about three days after
that. On the average, we fucked about every eight hours, so this was
quite a long time. And it was just as well, in a way:
“My asshole is sore.”
“I — I’m not surprised,” I said. “I wish it wasn’t — but I
liked the way it got sore.” I thought about my next words. “And so
did you.”
Her eyes blazed at me. I saw the anger beginning in her face -
- and then it collapsed. “I know — but that’s what the gay boys
do, isn’t it? Do you wish I was a boy?”
I started to laugh — and then realized she was only half-
joking.
“June, I like licking your cunt,” I said quietly. “And so do
you. Does that mean you wish I was a woman — since cuntlicking is
what lesbians do?”
Her eyes half closed and she shivered. “I know!” She seemed
amazed. “It makes me itchy when you say that — but you know I
don’t like lesbians.”
I licked my lips and stepped toward her. She put her small
hand against my chest, keeping me away.
I didn’t press it. Even if I’d been the kind of moronic
asshole who tries to force himself on someone else, there was
something else to consider: June had been an auxiliary cop in
Singapore, with the attendant martial arts training. We’d sparred
playfully a few times. She was just as fast as I and a helluvalot
more deceptive in her movements. I knew I could absorb enormous
damage, and use my superior strength to prevail, but I had no
desire to do so — and I didn’t know if there were subconscious
resentments in this hard-bodied young woman that could make a
playful blow slip and do serious damage. This was just another
equality that made her attractive to me: June could not be forced
to do anything. Whatever she did, it was by choice.
“But!” She laughed and dropped her hand. She knew my respect
for her prowess — and, more importantly, simply for her. “But!”
I nodded ruefully. “I know.”