Page 59 of Dick

She brushed her hair over her shoulder and grinned a shitty little grin. “Appreciate me a little more?”

I did. I never looked at things the way she presented them. I never had to. Now that she made her points, I did appreciate her more. It seemed to be something that was happening on a daily basis.

“I do.”

“Good.”

She took another drink of wine. “So, you say my pussy is yours. Is your cock mine?”

“No.”

“Really?” She dragged the two syllables along for two really long seconds. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. Guys don’t do that shit. They don’t say this cock is yours. And girls don’t say shit like whose cock’s in me or whatever.”

“I want that big fucker to be mine.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “So I can say it’s mine.”

“Who would you tell?”

She acted like she really thought about it for a while. “Nobody, I guess. Just myself.”

“So it’d be your cock, but you’d just keep it hush hush?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, take it. It’s yours.”

She sat up in her seat. “Really?”

“Yep. It’s yours, claim it.”

“Are you saying that because you know I won’t tell anybody, or because you really want me to have it? I don’t want it if it’s some wordplay bullshit. I want that fucker because I really like it. And I don’t want anyone else to have it.”

“Right now, I’m not considering giving it to anyone else.”

“Right now while we’re eating, or right now, like at this point in your life.”

“The life thing, maybe. Long after dinner’s over anyway.” I chuckled. “Maybe even through the rest of the month.”

She stared back at me. “No shit?”

I took a drink of my beer and nodded. “No shit.”

“Fuck yes, that big fucker’s mine.” She reached for her wine. “I like you.”

“I like you back,” I said.

And I meant it.