Waltz of Shadows Read Free Page A

this time. I started going to the University library to study nights.
    Well, all right. I’m not going to bullshit you. It was a place to meet women. I admit it. I don’t think that’s so bad. I was doing some studying too.
    So, I was sitting at a table near the elevator, eyeing the gals getting out of the car, and I saw this good looking blonde step out and start roaming the stacks.
    I made my move, went over where I’d seen her go behind a stack of books, and as I was coming around the corner of the shelves, I came up on her. Just standing there. Not really looking for anything, you know. Just hanging.
    So I keep going down the row, moving my finger over the book spines, working my lips like I’m reading titles, you know, and when I’m kind of close to her, she says: “You don’t give a fuck about books, do you?”
    Well, I look at her with a full view, and man, she’s better yet. The fucking Goddess of Love. About twenty-two, twenty-three years old. Long, blond hair, kind of wavy. She was wearing this short black skirt that made you want to lie on the floor between her legs and worship.
    I said something like, “Beg your pardon.” I don’t remember exactly, because I was, to say the least, startled. She said, “You aren’t looking for a book. You came down this row with one thing in mind. Me. Look at the bulge you got.”
    I swear, Uncle Hank, she talked just like that, and it was turning me on. I mean, I had a dick hard enough to pop a tire off the rim. So I said, “Yeah, you’re right. I thought I could talk to you. I wanted to meet you.”
    She said. “You thought you might get a little jelly roll, that’s what you thought.”
    “That wouldn’t hurt my feelings,” I said, and she said, “Well goddamn it, let’s cut the crap and go over to my place and screw.”
    She had this apartment off campus, The Village Apartments. Nice place. Kind of expensive. We went over there, and I tell you, there wasn’t any shucking or jiving or let’s-have-a-drink business when we got there.
    Inside her apartment she hiked her skirt and got on the kitchen table, spread her legs and said, “Bon appetite.”
    She wasn’t wearing any panties. I mean there was just the ole wet moon pie looking at me. I stuck my face between her thighs and started licking. After that I got her top off and my pants down, put the meat to her right there on the table. Half-hour later we were rubbing salad oil over each other and then we were in the bedroom rolling around on the bed. Fell off the night stand and broke the lamp. I got glass in my ass.
    We finished in the tub, me with my butt in the air, and her getting the glass out of my ass with some tweezers, licking the blood off when she was through.
    We showered and she put a Band-Aid on my ass. We got back in bed and lay there while she smoked a cigarette and poured beer on her belly for me to lick up, and while I’m doing this, I’m thinking: Damn, this is something. Then I’m thinking: Hey, why me? What did I do to deserve a babe like this? And about the time I’m thinking this, she says, “By the way, do you have AIDS?”
    Now, I tell you. I could have gone all week without being asked that. This was the first time in a long time I’d made love without a rubber. Or put my head between a girl’s legs and licked her. I’m not normally a fool, but this one, it was like I was a starving wolf and she was a pork chop.
    I said, “No, I don’t have AIDS. Do you?”
    And she says, very cool like, “Well, I hope not. I’ve fucked six guys this week I’ve never seen before, and you’re the seventh, and I haven’t made a one of them put on a rubber. They had AIDS, good chance is, I got it.”
    So, I’m considering all this, and she says, “Seven is the magic number, though. I don’t have AIDS now, I don’t plan to get it. We do it later, you use a rubber.” She looked at her watch then, which was all she had left on, and said, “Let’s go get some doughnuts.”
    We got