2. Men who have pierced ears are better prepared for marriage. They’ve experienced pain and bought jewelry.
3. Marrying a divorced man is ecologically responsible. In a world where there are more women than men, it pays to recycle.
4. All men hate to hear “We need to talk about our relationship.” These seven words strike fear in the heart of even the strongest male.
5. Men have higher body temperatures than women. If your heating goes out in winter, sleep next to a man. Men are like portable heaters that snore.
Source: Hope, Paco “Facts About Men”
http://funnies.paco.to/factsOnMen.html
10
MARLA LOOKED in the bathroom mirror and held back a grin. About ten minutes ago, she’d covered her face with a bright green herbal mask, one she’d found in Cosmo, that was purported to make her skin positively glow. She’d also conditioned her hair with mashed bananas, and timed it so that she could wash the whole mess off at once. But that wasn’t for another fifteen minutes. In the meantime, she’d pulled out her razor and shaving cream and sat herself on the bathroom counter to start the long and tedious process of removing all signs of hair from the neck down.
Of course, her thoughts were on the day, on the incredible time she’d spent with Shawn. Yeah, yeah, she knew it didn’t mean anything, but he’d been so extraordinarily nice to her, it seemed like a dream.
They’d talked about his childhood and hers, which weren’t so terribly different. She’d been the youngest of four, he of five. She’d gotten a strange sort of encouragement from her parents to stretch herself and accomplish, where he’d had the faith of his mother to buoy his spirits. Where they differed most was that Shawn’s father was a dour and uncompromising man who had believed Shawn’s looks automatically made him suspect, and he’d tormented his son constantly, accusing him of being a “fag” and of having feminine ways. His father’s treatment had been terribly hard on Shawn, who was a sensitive boy, and had caused him to be wary of every emotion.
Finally, in college, at the University of New Mexico, Shawn had had a revelation: he wasn’t gay, wouldn’t turn gay, and whatever anyone else thought of the situation was their own problem. From then on, it was easy to accept the modeling jobs that had been offered. He’d left school with two years to go when the offer of riches became too great to ignore.
He’d moved to New York four years ago and had met with success he could never have imagined. He’d been in countless magazines, on television, on billboards, including one so famous it had become something of a risqué icon. It was simply him in a pair of boxer shorts, and people from as far away as China recognized him instantly. Fame had its drawbacks, however, most of which centered around lack of privacy, but he’d said he figured there was always a price to pay for the kind of life he was living, and he’d grown accustomed to it.
He’d gone back to school against the advice of his agent and manager, but he didn’t lose any sleep over it. He had a plan, and it promised him a wonderful future.
Marla had told him of her college days, and how she never truly fit in with any crowd she’d found. She wasn’t as silly as the beer-drinking kegger lovers, and not so serious as the math geeks, but somewhere in between. She’d had a few good friends, but mostly she stuck to studying and listening to music. After she graduated, she’d researched the market carefully and had been offered four excellent jobs, but it was Jessica she wanted to work with. She’d never regretted the choice, although she didn’t see herself following Jessica’s strict “work-only” ethic. Marla still loved music, mostly classical and oldies, with some musicals, particularly those of Stephen Sondheim, to round out her tastes. That’s when Shawn had smiled that unbelievable smile at her. “I know him,” he’d said.
“Stephen Sondheim?”
“Yes. He’s a friend. I could introduce you.”
She’d been dizzy with the joy of it. To meet Stephen Sondheim would thrill her to her toes, but to have Shawn introduce him! It was simply over the top.
She finished shaving the one leg and picked up the canister to get the other one creamy, when the phone rang. Marla climbed down from the counter and hurried to the other room, a combination living room, kitchen and bedroom, to get the phone, fully expecting the call to be from Jessica.
It was Shawn. His sweet low voice took her breath away, and she didn’t say anything for a minute after his hello. He repeated the word, and she remembered how to talk. “Hi.”
“Am I bothering you?”
“Oh, no. No bothering here. In fact, the opposite of bothering which would be, uh…I don’t know what the opposite would be but you’re doing it. Nope. No bothering.”
He laughed, which made her all smiley and giddy. She sat down on the edge of the couch, crossed her clean-shaven leg over the hairy one.
“What are you up to tomorrow?” he asked.
“We have the dessert-and-jazz party at the Rainbow Room.”
“That’s tomorrow night.”
“I know, but I’ll have to go there in the afternoon to make sure all the decorations are up and stuff like that.”
“Ah, what time would that happen?”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure, but probably around two.”
“Which would mean you would be available if, say, someone wanted to take you to brunch?”
That feeling swamped her tummy again, the one where the butterflies all took off at once and did the waltz. “Brunch?”
“You know, the meal that’s not quite breakfast and not quite lunch.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve had brunch before. Once when I was eleven, we stayed in Las Vegas and we had brunch every day for a week. I ended up overdosing on pancakes and cheesecake.”
“So, is that a yes?”
“Yes!”
“Good. How about I pick you up at ten?”
“Pick me up? You don’t have to do that. I’m not at the hotel. I’m at home because I had things to do, and I’m sharing the room there with this other girl, you met her, Vicky, she’s got brown hair and wears tights all the time, and anyway, she has all this stuff in the bathroom, which is fine, really, but hard to get around, so I decided to come home tonight to do all my girlie stuff…” She sighed. “Too much information, huh?”
“No, not at all. However, I did know you went home.”
“You did?”
“I called you, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah. How?”
“On the contact sheet from the agency.”
“Oh.”
“So I’ll pick you up, if, that is, you tell me where.”
“Oh, okay.” She gave him her address, and midway between her explaining where it was, he interrupted to tell her he already knew.
She closed her mouth, afraid it would start babbling on its own if she opened it even a bit. But then, he said, “See you at ten,” and she said, “Okay,” and then he hung up. She leaned her head on the phone for a second, wondering what she’d done in a previous life that could give her this in the present one. Whatever it was, she was grateful for it.
When she replaced the phone on the hook, it was mushed with lots of green gook from her face. After cleaning the receiver, she rushed back to the bathroom to finish shaving so she could take a shower. It was well past the time she should have washed off, so her face would be extra glowy. Which was nice, because then it would match how she felt.
JESSICA DIDN’T SAY anything for a long time after the waitress made her getaway. She was embarrassed, sure, but not terminally. She just wasn’t certain what to say next. How does one follow that?
Finally, she looked over to see Dan, who was laughing. His face was kind of scrunched up, but on him it looked good. She smiled, appreciating the joke, but also a little concerned. The telling had taken a toll. The erotic frisson had dissipated somewhat, but there was a lingering sensation in her lower parts that made her shift on her seat. He stirred her up, this man. Something fierce.
Yes, she’d decided to go with the
flow, so to speak, and scratch her proverbial itch. But something else nagged at her, and it was a little voice in the back of her head that said this wasn’t all about sex. And if it wasn’t just about sex, then having sex might not be the right way to go. Having sex might lead to wanting more, and more was what she shouldn’t have.
All she had to do was think about the end of the campaign and the potential jobs that waited for her. On the other hand, the distraction of the attraction was quickly becoming too much to ignore, and that could easily lead to disaster.
“Now, that was a moment I won’t soon forget,” Dan said, wiping the corner of his eyes with his napkin. “The look on her face. Five’ll get you ten, we have another waitress serving us the rest of our meal.”
“I won’t take that bet.” She sipped her new drink, careful not to down too much, as she was hungry as a hound and the liquor would hit too hard. “I think they’re probably all pulling lots to see who has to serve us.”
“You certainly took it all with a grain of salt.”
She shrugged. “Not much I could do about it once it was done. Why fret?”
“Why, indeed?” He held up his glass. “To stoicism.”
She clicked her glass to his and took another sip. “I hope they don’t haggle too much. I’m starved.”
“Me, too.”
They both turned toward the kitchen, but no waitress appeared, so they settled back to wait.
“That was great, by the way,” he said. “Just the kind of thing I was looking for.”
“But aren’t there a whole bunch of books that detail women’s sexual fantasies? Couldn’t you just read them?”
“I did, and they didn’t work. Anecdotal evidence from a cross section of anonymous women is fine, but it doesn’t get to the heart of what I’m looking for. I’m thinking that if I can understand one particular woman, you, then I’ll see all women in a new light.”
She shook her head. “Hasn’t every man since Adam tried to figure us out, and failed?”
“Exactly what makes the research so interesting.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’re a closet voyeur, and you’re getting your jollies asking me all this embarrassing stuff.”
Instead of the laugh she expected, his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned. “It’s possible that’s true, although I haven’t sought out voyeuristic situations in the past.”
“I was kidding.”
“I know. But I don’t think it’s something I can simply dismiss out of hand.”
“What?”
“I have to be honest with you, Jessica. I’m not the model of stoicism you are. When you were recounting your fantasy, it wasn’t all science and note-taking here.”
“It wasn’t?”
He shook his head. “No. There was a decided uprising, if you get my drift.”
She hid her smile behind her whiskey sour. “Oh, dear.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, maybe we should call it off? The research, I mean.”
He hesitated, but not for long. “No, I don’t think so. I think we should press on.”
“But what if there’s another ‘uprising’?”
He scooted a little closer to her. “It’s a very real possibility.”
“Oh?”
He nodded, moved closer still. “However,” he said, keeping his voice low, unreachable to any nearby waitress, “I believe that my reaction is an important factor in the project.”
“How so?”
“If I wasn’t turned on, then you wouldn’t be the right subject.”
“Hmm. So it’s not any particular woman. It’s a particular woman you’re attracted to.”
“Exactly. And it’s equally important that the woman—you—be attracted to me.”
She frowned. “Oh, dear.”
The look on his face was priceless. Total shock. She hadn’t thought of him as egocentric, and he certainly hadn’t behaved like one of those guys who think they’re God’s gift, but it was clear he’d sensed the heat between them. She decided to be kind, and let him off the hook. “Kidding,” she said. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t so.”
He relaxed visibly. And touched the back of her neck with his fingers. Her reaction was instant and intense. Heat, moisture, rapid breathing, a flush to her cheeks.
He evidently saw the signs, and probably suspected the rest. But just then their food arrived, via a waiter this time, and they both dug in like starving sailors.
After the initial emergency was over, and they could stop to savor the delicious meal, Dan touched her thigh. “You don’t have to do anything else tonight, right?”
She shook her head.
“Great.”
“Why?”
“I’m not close to being finished with my questions.”
“I do have to get a good night’s sleep.”
“You’ll sleep.”
“Promise?”
“You bet. My job is to help you with your campaign, not hurt it.”
“True.”
They ate again, the rest of the night swimming with possibilities, stirring the air between them. When Jessica hit bottom and pushed away her plate, he dropped his fork and called for the bill. The waiter asked if they wanted dessert, and they said an abrupt “No!” at the same time.
“Not that I’m anxious,” he said.
“Of course not,” she agreed.
But he paid in record time, leaving a generous tip, while she hailed a taxi.
They didn’t say a word as they headed toward the hotel. Not one. But she heard him. His intentions, his curiosity, his desire. She felt him, too, although all he touched was her shoulder, briefly.
By the time they reached the Willows, she was at the end of her rope. The elevator took forever, he fumbled with the key, and then finally, thank God, they were inside, the door was locked, and they were in each other’s arms before she could say, “Take me, you fool.”
Dan pulled her tight against him as he moved her toward the bedroom. Everything in his body cried out for being naked. Now. But he didn’t know how Jessica would react to making love on the carpet, so he focused the one tiny section of his brain that wasn’t completely fogged over with sex and manfully pressed on. She stumbled over something, and he realized it would have been a good thing to have turned on the light, but he wasn’t about to let go, or God forbid, stop kissing her, not when her tongue was so busy exploring every inch of his mouth, and certainly not when he’d already managed to unbutton half her blouse, but then he almost tripped over the coffee table, and he said, “The hell with this,” and he lifted her into his arms as if he was Tarzan or something, and not giving a damn what he tripped over, he made it to the bedroom and more importantly, to the bed.
Once he had her safely down, he reached to the side table and turned on the light. He wanted to see her. All of her. Every step of this glorious dance.
She lay panting, her blouse half-open to reveal a peach lace bra that couldn’t hide her very erect nipples. The sight spurred him into action, and he ripped at his own shirt.
That got Jessica moving, too, and they raced to shed their clothes as if they were on fire. Which, in fact, they were.
By the time he got completely undressed, she’d reached the last stage—her panties. He held out a hand. “Stop.”
She obeyed, her gaze moving down his chest, his stomach, finally his erection. He’d never been harder, of course she couldn’t know that. But from the look on her face she wasn’t displeased.
“Why am I stopping?” she asked, her gaze never moving up, even an inch.
“Because if we keep going at this pace, it’s going to be a very wonderful yet very short experience.”
“Short, my ass.”
He laughed. “Thank you, but not what I meant.”
“Oh. Right.”
“So let me just appreciate you for a minute.”
“Appreciate, how?”
“Looking,
” he said, climbing onto the big white bed. “And touching,” he said, while his hand went to cup the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. When his hand came to rest on the perfect bosom, he nearly came, which would have been oh-so-unfortunate. The clever thing to do would be to think about baseball scores or perhaps mealworms. But he couldn’t. All he could think about was how stunning she was, and how lucky he was, and how to be inside her was perhaps the most important thing in his whole life. He wanted it to last forever. He knew that couldn’t be so.
“Dan?”
“Yes?”
“May I make a suggestion?”
“If it’s about stopping this, no.”
“On the contrary,” she said, moving her lips very close to his. “I was thinking that we don’t have to do this only the one time.”
“Good, good.”
She sighed into his mouth, making his cock twitch. “You’re not getting it. First time fast. Second time slow.”
He blinked, leaned forward and kissed her hard. “Jessica, you’re a genius.”
“Yes, I know.”
MORE FACTS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT MEN
1. When four or more men get together, they talk about sports.
2. When four or more women get together, they talk about men.
3. If a man says, “I’ll call you,” and he doesn’t, he didn’t forget…he didn’t lose your number…he didn’t die. He just didn’t want to call you.
4. Getting rid of a man without hurting his masculinity is a problem. “Get out” and “I never want to see you again” might sound like a challenge. If you want to get rid of a man, try saying, “I love you…I want to marry you…I want to have your children.” Sometimes they leave skid marks.
5. Men forget everything; women remember everything. That’s why men need instant replays in sports. They’ve already forgotten what happened.
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