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From: "Sean Farragher" <seanfarragher@msn.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6: Angela Fucks Henry?
Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2000 01:10:05 -0400
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Folks, after tonight I will be away
for a week. TxM6 will return.
Also From TxM6 Hyperfiction
http://www.txm6.com (updated 9/16/00)
http://www.txm6.com/enfer (updated 9/17/00)
http://www.txm6.com/lcfallon
http://www.farragher.com (Poetry updated 9/20/00)
TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher.
Angela and Henry
Friday, April 17 1987
Later that evening
Angela and Aaron loved it when Henry after an intimate
dinner read to them from his book of taxi tales or
"walkabouts." Other times Henry would read a new poem
or Angela would present a new painting for discussion.
Aaron rarely presented his work. When he did, they
knew he needed them as much as they needed him.
On other nights Aaron and Angela would show slides of
their latest paintings or conceptual pieces. If there
were a special painting, in progress, or a conceptual
sculpture, Aaron or Angela or both would take Henry on
a tour of the inner workings of a work-in-progress.
Sometimes they would talk chatter or nothing. Perhaps
they would role-play in some indecent manner that all
three loved. There were even times when they would
argue about politics, sports (Aaron loved the Giants
baseball team and Angela and Henry loved the Yanks)
and the night would end watching a baseball game or
football.
"But not better than sex," Angela often joked when one
of them finished talking and there was that silent
pause that was hard to follow with ordinary
conversation. Using that in-joke phrase (something
Henry said once about poetry), they would laugh and
then decide how the evening might end: threesome or
duo.
Angela although married to Aaron loved Henry. Aaron
loved Henry almost as much. Now more than ten five
years old, it was an easy threesome. They moved with
each other sexually as the moment created. Every other
Wednesday was their day or night together. Other days
they hung out as they could.
HERRIG MANSION
When Henry imagined earlier that morning telling Aaron
about the Herrig estate, he warmed to telling Angela.
He thought about Angela first. Once he walked in on
Angela kissing Laurie playing with her breasts. He
excused himself, and as both women were stoned they
only generally remembered the event. That is what
Henry imagined. Another time he thought of Aaron: He
had walked in on Laurie showing Henry Aaron's abstract
paintings of Laurie (as Picasso's White period or
Matisse painted nudes). Henry remembered how turned on
Laurie became when she showed how Aaron displayed her
open vulva. He remembers that Laurie used the word
"vulva" rounding it in her mouth opening her lips. He
was drunk and he kissed her just as Aaron walked into
the room. Laurie kissed Aaron and Henry left.
Henry had two rules: Give Aaron first crack. Never
develop to fine a connection with a woman too much
younger. Henry knew how he loved younger women, but he
also knew it was much harder to sustain more than a
sexual relationship. He left Laurie and Aaron alone.
He found out later that Laurie had passed on sex, and
left soon after.
Henry and Aaron understood the boundaries. Henry knew
that Aaron gave more than Henry. Aaron didn't mind.
Henry knew that he needed to not exploit that
permissive attitude, and to under accept especially
when it came to Angela and in an odd way Laurie. He
knew that Aaron loved Laurie as a model. He also knew
that she turned Aaron on to greater work, and Aaron
the consummate lover of work, of his art, of making
his vision new in every work, possessed by Laurie, he
was possessive of her affect on how he created in
texture, hue and value the large expressive paintings
that was his life.
Friday April 17, 1987
As it was not Wednesday, but Friday, Henry had no idea
how the evening would play out. I will wait Henry
thought as the three friends talked about the dinner,
Angela's sexy mouth and how hard Henry might be a that
moment.
THE SEXY NIGHT
After dinner, Aaron left Angela alone with Henry and
went off to work. "Client picking work up tomorrow,"
he said.
"We will not miss you much." Angela teased her
husband. They both knew that Aaron would have that
famous but imaginary "do not disturb on penalty of the
curse of being impotent" sign taped to his studio
door. He did it once, Angela sighed, almost smiling,
when I joked about needing more space.
Resting on the couch, Angela and Henry seemed the
perfectly comfortable couple. Half way into the story,
Angela began to rub Henry's cock through his pants.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Henry tells Angela about the Herrig Place.
"I stepped in real shit," Henry told Angela.
When Henry said the word "shit" Angela moved her foot
off and on his cock and Henry stopped.
"No," Angela said, putting her foot back.
Henry continued. "Yes," he reminded Angela. "Stepping
in shit means you got lucky or you sucked up enough so
the dispatcher gave you one. I must have told you
that."
"No, I do not think so." Angela smiled and lied. "Does
it matter? Odd internal contradiction there wouldn't
you say?"
Angela quickly put her second leg into Henry's lap and
while Henry talked, she pull her sweatshirt over her
head taking the shirt Henry had discarded earlier to
cover her breasts.
"I hate covering them," she said. "But I don't want to
get cold."
Angela always called Henry as she called Aaron Papa.
Henry continued: "The regular driver who had handled
the Herrig's calls (by their insistence), Harry, was
out sick. If Harry had not decided he wanted to stay
home and watch the soaps or fuck his teenage neighbor
all day, I would have missed it.
Going back to the Herrig topography, Henry continued
his jungle walkabout for Angela. Moving past a
collection of tents, and smoldering wood fires, Henry
was back on the road to a subtle mixture of erotic
daydreams and speculation on human architecture.
Henry remembered thinking and told Angela "how the
fire and the scattered pots and pans reminded me oddly
of the Hudson Street Cabs taxi dispatcher Eddie
"Please, don't stop,' said. Angela was very patient.
Henry she wanted him to oddly mix the touching of
bodies with real scenes from his day. Other times she
would tell him about her day. Today was Henry's and
insist that he swallow her clit while he listened.
"When I picked up my keys and sheet at 530 Am this
morning, (I was told I had a time call and to come in
early), Eddie handed Henry the call written in
indelible red ink magic marker."
"At first Eddie wouldn't let go. I started to pull it,
and then I stopped and listened to his sarcasm. What
choice did I have"?
"I know that you won't fuck this one up," Eddie said.
"I am Henry-- not Harry. I don't get lost or go south
with north calls."
Expecting at least thanks from Henry, the dispatcher
was annoyed when he heard not thanks but an allusion
to Eddie's friend, Harry's (obvious to drivers)
incompetence.
"Yea, you sad fucken shit," the dispatcher, eating
pastrami for breakfast said. "Just don't fuck it up.
Henry smiled his best sarcasm.
"Don't fuck it up. Got it," Eddie repeated.
Then the dispatcher added in a softer tone, "you wish
you were as good as Harry."
"At that moment," Henry told Angela, "I just wanted
to tell the fuck to go fuck himself, but I didn't.
When he opened the door to the dispatch office and
said. "Get the fuck out of here before I fuck up your
dumb ass." I started to leave.
Suddenly Eddie began to breathe harder, grasping his
throat like he was choking on food.
"Say anything you fuck, I told him," shouting in his
face now.
He sputtered and said, "fucken food," coughing up a
half a sandwich."
"Easy man, I do not want to give you mouth to mouth."
After a pause in the story, Angela whispered. "What
are you stopping for?"
"You met Eddie at the taxi union diner last month
Angela."
"Is he that 300-pound younger man with beautiful face
and the soft blue eyes, pausing?
Henry nodded yes and seemed annoyed that they had
gotten stuck on this part of the story. He said
nothing. Angela understood but insisted.
"Yes, I remember, I thought it odd that such a
beautiful young man could be so large. He would be
movie star handsome if he were normal."
"He's an odd man, Henry said. Impatient Henry really
did not want to talk about Eddie, but it was obvious
that Angela did.
"Did you know when I was half lit, Angela added. "I
asked him to fuck me. He just laughed, and told Aaron
to take care of his woman. Like I belong to anyone.
From him it seemed cute."
"You really are a beautiful snob Angela."
"I always wanted to be completely covered by a man.
Love to be crushed. Ever do it with a really large
woman."
"Yes, last summer. Beautiful woman with a great
personality," Henry joked half serious. "I did have
one problem I couldn't find the hole. Had to reach in
with my arm to just reach the wet heat.
Angela open felt Henry touching her sex, and she
closed her legs on his hand crushing them.
"That is nasty love."
On that one word nasty Angela grabbed Henry's balls,
squeezed them and when Henry laughed trying to stop
her.
"Too much for you. How do you know I will stop?"
Angela did and settled down for more of Henry's
adventures. Obviously not done, Henry started it up
again.
"Eddie runs a strip place in the city that specializes
in barely legal girls."
"Really," Angela looked up from her perch inside
Henry.
"Do you trust him," Angela asked.
"Not really."
Awake now, working something on something Angela said
nothing.
"Why sweets, Angela playing with her own nipple said,
"do you really want to fuck him?"
"Could be," Henry played back. "Would you mind?"
"Not sure how I feel. Would you like to watch? Could
get into it if you were there. Not Aaron. He would not
like the man. Henry likes artists only. I think Aaron
believes if I fuck an artist or he does that we absorb
something of their soul. Interesting rationalization
for being a voyeur."
"Sober I am not sure that would be a good idea. I
could imagine sketching him with the strippers."
"Male and female strippers at that," Henry added.
"That would make it more interesting as you know."
"I bet, Henry touched Angela's thigh and found that
one place behind and towards the top of her inner
thigh that made her body clench. "You told me once
you would love to suck on a transsexual with a
preoperative dick. Not much of a fuck in the real
ones."
"A painting of his group would make an interesting
super real mural. That is what I do beside blowjobs or
allowing my pussy its daily munching."
"One thing you should know Angela, he is connected.
"Wyman is not his real last name. He's connected.
Better not to fuck with that world. You don't become
at twenty nine a dispatcher and manager of a protected
company without that license."
"You really want me to do this don't you," Angela
inquired. "Everything you say, and you do know my
inclinations," makes me want to do it more not less."
"I would love to see the painting, Henry touched
Angela's mouth, letting her lips nibble on his
fingers, sucking them in deeper.
"Stop playing with my head," Angela pushed Henry's
other hand towards her left nipple. She added. "Play
with my mind."
"Is there a distinction?"
Angela sat up, excusing herself for a moment. "I have
to pee."
"Let me help," Henry offered.
"Not tonight, I need to really go. Might not make it
if..."
As she left holding her bladder, she looked down on
Henry and said, "fuck, and realizing she had let go on
Henry, she bit his neck and leaned back for a deeper
kiss.
Henry pushed on her belly while he kissed her making
it harder for her to stand it.
INTERLUDE
Catching her breath, sitting up, Angela returned to
Eddie the dispatcher.
"I do remember that when we ate Chinese at the Taxi
Union party. Eddie spoke with his greasy hands and
didn't really seem to enjoy his food. I almost asked
him about it. One phrase he used made me thing of you
and your war stories. "Something about being the heart
and mind of Hudson Street Taxi. Is he?"
"Why does talking this shit turn me on like this? God
I have to pee."
"I know I felt it. Kind of liked it," Henry added.
"You can suck it all out," she added. Don't ask for
returns."
"Not sure I want that much," Henry turned away for a
moment stood up leaving Angela sitting with her legs
apart, her breasts exposed, sex open.
"Am I boring you," Angela mocked softly and asked?
Henry sat down and told her how they should move to
the bedroom. He reached down to help her up.
"No, let's do it on the floor. Maybe Aaron will walk
in and we can tease him to join us. I want both of you
inside. God I can feel that every moment I touch you."
Henry sat down and touched Angela's face under her
eyes as tenderly as possible.
"I love your face," he said.
"Yes, touch the side of my nose and my upper lips."
Henry did and while he stoked her inner face, her
breasts, her belly again, moving from one to the
other, "Look where you were touching my cock at the
dinner under the table, you said, casually, half drunk
that you would really liked to be fucked by seven
ordinary cab drivers?"
"I suppose, but only if you film it. Stop. I need to
pee."
"Can I watch?"
"What?"
"You pee."
"Stop it. Let me go."
Angela ran off to the bathroom locking the door.
Henry attempting to push his way in barely knocking
said.
"No, I want to watch."
Angela emerged wearing just Henry's shirt.
"Please finish your story. I am going too cum to fast
and I want to hear all of it before we fall asleep.
You are spending the night."
"I could."
"It is your night with me unless you want to double
stuff my cunt with Aaron.
"Sounds good."
"Forget that. He is into his trip tonight. He is glad
you are here. He knows how horny I can become when I
about to ovulate. I fucked him this afternoon. My cunt
is percolating."
"I was hoping to feel the heat."
"No. Want a child with Aaron. Think how confusing it
would be if I had twins. What if I had two children by
two different fathers? Has happened.
Henry laughed, realizing that Angela was on her own
page tonight, Henry returned to his tale of a tub as
he put it.
"Would you really like to sketch Eddie at work in the
dispatch office? I could ask him for you."
"I had better do it myself. Actually, I want his to
sketch him with his transsexual strippers. If I show
him a little tit and he will do anything I ask. Quite
now, just talk. Let me feel you watching me fuck the
army of guys you know. Safer that way you know. Leave
Eddie to me."
"Fuck, you are a pisser."
"No, you wanted to suck it out of me. I know your
bathroom scene."
Angela and Henry settled back down on the couch after
opening a new bottle of Mosel Blumchen a semi sweet
German wine that Angela loved.
"You still have your boots on?"
Ignoring that last comment, Henry continued the old
story.
"If you fucked him my dear, you would probably kill
him anyway. It was a wonder the man's alive."
"Enough. Let's go back."
"Where?"
Angela kissed Henry reaching down taking his cock out
of his pants, unzipping it, pulling his pants down
over his ass.
"Now, try to run away she said."
Getting back to his story, Henry whispered it while
they kissed. Angela could not hear him or choose to
ignore anything but sucking on his fingers.
"Do not be sad about not fucking."
"Of course I understand. I love not getting myself wet
inside too," he faked his best sad grin.
"Soon as I am pregnant you can have me for a week."
"Even if we fucked tonight, no one could be closer."
"Tell the fucken story." Angela said it while she
kissed Henry's hands.
"I will but you have to stop."
"What?"
"Never Mind. Go on with it"
"Don't you really like foreplay"?
Continuing the story, knowing that Angela really
wanted the tease more than the event, Henry said.
"I really didn't want to give that fat man mouth to
mouth. Fortunately after one last long disgusting
cough, Eddie returned to his desk, but I did not
immediately leave."
"Something always happened after the first incident.
What if he really needed help, a few minutes later? I
would never have been able to live with myself. When
you are in the taxi office time is funny, Angela. The
taxi two-way radio can be silent for a half hour and
then suddenly scream at you.
"18-12 off the light to 326 Wilson, Al, a rookie
driver did the radio right.
Looking at the time, Eddie realized he had forgotten a
time call.
"Who is up on the light?"
"Hudson Street," some hard voiced cab driver blasted
back over the two-way radio
"Check by number. No, time for hard ass shit."
"So you can pass me up for someone else," he said.
"Who's up again," Eddie repeated.
Henry heard the movie of the day again but did not
wonder why he was giving Angela all this shit. She had
curled up closer to him, and while touching the head
of his cock with both hands said, simply, "please."
Henry looking down at her exposed breasts remembering
an earlier morning, and then quickly changed his mind.
"Why am I telling you this?"
"No, please," Angela said, almost annoyed.
"Why?"
"Because I am asking and you are one man who knows how
to listen. More."
"Angela, conversations over the radio (when you can
hear both sides) tell you the story of our lives on
the stand, love. If I were on the stand now, I would
be here in my mind thinking of making your body move.
"No, story."
Henry bringing the taxi office to Angela said: "Hudson
Street," the radio spit back again.
Henry paused not knowing what to do.
"More," Angela insisted. Slightly out of breath, she
almost laughed.
"Where is the six car," the dispatcher stammered.
"Some one walked up to the stand. Six going to 34th
and Broadway," the driver punctuated his comments with
hard emphasis on the word 'Broadway'."
"Six you were on the light, I gave you a call," the
dispatcher spoke too fast now, unsure.
"Who's up," Eddie yelled. Exasperated he would fuck
the six car the rest of the day for passing up the
cheap call for the good shot.
"By the way, all of you out there in the Fort. Check
by number!" Eddie was curt and pissed.
"18-14, on the light," Bobby, a kid and new driver
almost whispered back, making sure, he did it right.
"Get the bags at the A&P 14 car."
Stopping his story and breathing hard, Henry looked at
Angela and felt her lips swollen. He kissed the bridge
of her nose and then when she kissed him letting her
tongue penetrate his mouth, he bit it softly and let
his teeth run the length of it.
"No. More." Angela's eyes were closed, head back,
breathing through her lips, feeling the weight of her
pubic lips, as they parted, and Henry's hand was deep
into Angela fisting her.
"Now, I know why I love the movies," Henry said
"No. Please," Angela said.
Henry knew he would finish it. Taking his hand, Angela
moved it so she could take his hand deeper.
"Open your hand inside me, and when you come out of my
cunt, cup it," she almost whispered. If you didn't
know what she was doing with Henry you would have had
no idea what she said.
"What a fuck that dispatcher is, and what a tease you
are," Henry laughed saying it softly under his breathe
but doing what she had directed.
Ok Henry thought and he told the story. All of it.
"Eddie is a sad fuck, Angela, Henry tried to tell it
all as a serious story while he fisted her cunt. "When
he is not dispatching he is a friendly and intelligent
man with a smart wife and great kids. I met them at
the picnic. You missed that one. One gal gave blowjobs
to half the fleet. Wild one. She took them in the
men's changing room and then stood guard for kids and
wives. Turns out her date had paid her to do it. High
price hooker had great tits, not breasts, Henry said.
Continuing his deep penetration, pulling his hand in
and out now, Angela's legs split wide, full, Henry
told about the time Eddie full of angst and false
pride smiled at Henry and added, "how the fuck do you
guys know when a shit call is coming up."
You tell us with your voice, Henry answered honestly.
At that moment Angela came. Angela locked with Henry
did nothing but feel. After twenty minutes of feeling,
Henry slowly moved his fist out of her cunt.
Angela told Henry that she was thinking about Eddie
when she came. "I imagined he was watching. He has
such intelligent eyes. Is really that stupid as a
dispatcher"?
"All dispatchers are stupid when they are dispatching,
including myself," Henry added. "You have to be stupid
to work harder and make less money as a dispatcher."
Angela reached up and kissed Henry, and put her head
down to hear the rest.
"Henry," Angela put her fingers over his mouth, "just
rest," she said.
Henry asked Angela if she could imagine why anyone
wanted to be a taxi dispatcher and stopped talking for
a few minutes until Angela added.
"I love this cab driver."
"When you are dispatcher, you are locked up," Henry
continued, "Not able to take care of yourself, you
miss the fucked up magic of the road.
Henry rubbed Angela's breasts and Angela was the
perpetual pussycat with her ears rubbed.
Henry continued. "I remember why Eddie dispatched."
"No, more, taxi world," Angela sighed and gave up.
"Eddie suffered from "sleep apnea," Henry added. "He
could not stay awake at the wheel of his cab. His
belly crowded his lungs as the fat fucked up his sex
life.
One of the old time drivers had told Henry adding the
comment for extra cruelty. Seems the old timer was
pissed at Eddie. Life on the taxi stand being what it
was, the old timer would be up Eddie's ass the next
day telling the stand over and over what a great
dispatcher we have while the drivers laughed at his
old ass tolerating his bullshit as one does an old
hand. Time was the arbiter there as well. No rookie is
ever right.
"Angela, you awake," Henry asked.
"Oh yes, can't you tell I am about to come again."
Angela had her fingers on her clit and rubbed
carefully and faster.
"Yes, I felt you playing with it. Is that fair," he
joked.
Stopping the story again, Henry waited.
Angela began to close her thighs on Henry's hand and
said nothing but shifting in her seat she suddenly
reached up and Henry knowing what she loved, caressed
the very tip of her nipples as softly as possible.
When he finished, he would find her clit and tease the
space between the hood and its left side. He knew to
only touch her clit when she came.
Henry also knew that what you see is not what is
there. Like fucking.
"Please don't stop the story," Angela reaching for
something grand said breathed more that speaking. "I
am on the stand with you, and you are watching me
dance and cock tease your buddies. I have seven of
them now inside my skin. They will not leave. What I
should I do when I have to stop? Want to join them
before I leave, have the last fuck. What if I told you
that is the only way you could have me for ever more?"
Henry trying to feel and not wanting to talk knew that
Angela loved fantasy so he continued his story.
"Eddie is not really a stupid man. He's educated but
hardly refined. I met him outside work. We had a few
and talked about Vermeer."
"Yes, Angela shook, please don't you fucken stop."
"Here in taxi land," Henry spoke very softly sharing
with her this odd but for her erotic taxi tale.
Feeling Angela's "aftershocks," he wished he never
knew the man. He was here with them and Henry did not
like it.
"I love you," Henry whispered.
"Yes, love is plentiful."
"Yes, I know, Angela," as she looked up seemingly
finished.
"You are wonderful, and I like that more than the word
'love'," she said.
"God you are so fucken wet."
"See what happens when you fuck with mother fucking
humping god," Angela laughed.
"You forgot the word 'faggot'."
"Yes, I know: First rule of taxi dispatching. The
dispatcher is always a faggot and right. If wrong, see
rule one and open up your ass."
Henry said, at first mesmerized, "I knew you'd
understand."
"Of course. We understand all."
Henry laughed but winced but Angela continued.
"Women when they need to come can be almost as
demanding as a dispatcher."
"Life is one grand circumlocution," Henry said,
rubbing the back of his knuckles against the layers of
her mouth. Then Angela leans over and sucks his left
nipple asking, "is it the left one that makes you
instantly hard."
Henry answers with his eyes closing them. He takes her
hand and puts it on his cock, and she kisses his right
nipple switching back to the left milking his cock
with him.
After a moment, Henry kisses Angela hard, pulls her
hand to his mouth and sucks the fingers that were
pulling on his cock, telling her, "I remember getting
into my cab this morning, taking my readings, and
thinking about the your mouth.
"I thought you might think of your dispatcher," Angela
teases.
"Assholes all. Why do I suffer them?"
"Ah, dear Henry, thou art the wings of my defense and
the lies of my desire. You are always the soldier
Henry," Angela said. Holding his hand caressing the
tips of his fingers, she brought Henry back with an
unexpected quip.
"Hey, don't you love the way I can mimic your voices,"
she said.
Henry understood the chain of command from the Army,
but now, much older he rode with Angela's waves and
knew that the only value that the world respects is
pleasure.
"Yes," Henry said aloud to Angela in a reverse of
seduction. "How much you gonna pay me for this
sweets."
"Money talks and bullshit walks," Angela teased. "As
you say holding his hand tighter while she felt that
last series of waves, taking them with a hush sound
just as Henry came by his own hand.
After she came, Henry knew she would sleep and he
would not want to move, said for no other reason but
that it was what he was thinking at that instant. "You
know that old driver was wrong about the Herrig call."
"Yes, dear," Angela said barely speaking almost
asleep.
Reaching back Henry concluded his story for almost
sleeping and quite satiated Angela. Henry recalled
what some ancient driver, Joey S said about the
Herrigs.
"That old fuck is a sick fuck and his daughter is a
cunt, but they tip well so you fucken drive them where
and when they want to go. I would have taken the call
but I have a back to back. You're a lucky fuck."
Henry ignored the man but paused before leaving the
yard.
"I had no idea what to tell the man."
He would not stop. "Give them what ever they need," he
said. "Got it. I know you will not. Have some fucken
pride," Joey ranted.
Henry continued to ignore the man, but began to leave
the taxi yard.
"Hey," as Henry pulled out, he heard Joey say. " Your
customers want you to drive and keep your fucken mouth
shut. If they wanted a smart-ass college boy, they
would drive to the fucken College and dig one out of
the shitter. Got it."
"I swear Angela I thought the guy liked me as much as
he could like anyone, but at that moment when he told
me to shut up, my lip trembled like it did when I was
seven and my father beat the shit out of me. I wanted
to get out of the car and smack the old fuck, but of
course, I didn't. I also knew why he was angry. He was
pissed he could not do both the calls. If the
dispatcher wanted he could have given them to him and
taken the chance that, he would have been slightly
late for the second. I knew the times. Joey always did
the first call. It was his everyday call. All the old
timers have one. Drivers are greedy fucks I suppose
when they have your ass in their hands."
"Get this Angela. Joey looks like an old Italian Pope.
No, more like a Rabbi. That's it. His skullcap of
white hair frames his face. Man, he looks like a saint
but sounds like a card-carrying member of the John
Birch Society and not the Holy Name Society. Sad fuck,
you know."
Henry stopped talking and just rested against Angela
patting her ass as she settled deeply against him.
In a short epiphany for that morning Herrig call,
Henry remembered that he had picked up his speed - not
slowed down -- around the curves and he thought to
himself, who wants to talk to these shits if you can
help it, but why did I say I drove slowly when
describing it to Angela.
"One thing about taxis Angela," Henry said stopping
suddenly when he realized that she was asleep.
Reaching in his pocket, Henry pulled out the yellow
paper Eddie had given him yesterday morning. Reading
it now, Henry could not read the time. He could read
the address.
Henry wrote it down on a pad, opened the paper, and
put it in Angela's hand covering her with a blanket.
Instinctively, when Henry touched her, she pulled her
hands inside to protect her breasts, and then
realizing, she pulled Henry back.
Got to learn to keep my trap shut, Henry admonished
himself. Eddie is a sad fuck and turning the channel
on his memory, Henry stopped the movie of the morning
and slept himself.
Four AM Angela and Aaron's Living Room
Hours later, stopping to take a leak Aaron not seeing
Angela in their bed, decided he better help her get
there.
Now, I understand, he thought, smiling.
Aaron walked over to the couple and put another
blanket over Henry and Angela.
He kissed Angela and then removed Henry's glasses.
Back to work. No sense waking them.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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