They lay on their sides next to each other under the covers, Bill spooning Arlene. No way he could hide how aroused he was but no way was he about to do anything sexual other than fondle her. So they lay quietly at first until Bill suggested maybe she’d like to smoke a joint. Arlene said she was happily high and feeling mellow but that if he wanted to roll one she’d take a few hits.
Bill did not get up immediately. He stayed pressing into her, fondling her and kissing her neck. Later, the next day at work, he would swear to her that he could hear her purring like a kitten. She would swear she’d done no such thing.
When he did get up, he was somewhat embarrassed by his arousal and went for a towel to wrap around his waist. Once he had covered himself, he retrieved his bag of weed and some papers and sat on the edge of the bed rolling a joint. He used the night table where the wine glasses were for the spill. Just before he rolled, he wiped the spill into the paper.
That was a whole other story. Rolling joints was a skill and you weren’t considered skilled, really skilled, until you could do it in a moving car without spilling. The less you spilled the better you were.
Bill was skilled. He rolled quickly and efficiently. He asked Arlene if she had an ashtray and she pointed to one on the dresser. It was totally clean.
“I don’t usually smoke,” said Arlene. “That ashtray just stays there nice and clean.”
Bill lit the joint and took a long hit. He turned and passed it to Arlene. He motioned for her to keep it for a bit and sat there half turned toward her, looking at her.
Arlene had light skin with freckles, small pink nipples slightly erect. The covers were about her waist. Just for fun, while she smoked Bill peeled the covers from her so he could see her from the knees up.
Having taken a few tokes, Arlene passed the joint back to Bill. Bill took three quick hits, tapped the ash off in the ashtray and returned the joint to her.
“You like?” Arlene looked at Bill. Bill could her see him looking at her.
Bill leaned in and kissed the tip of one of her breasts. “I like,” he said.
So as not to play favorites, he kissed the tip of her other breast. Then, since she still held the joint, he leaned down and started kissing up the line where her thighs met.
“Why did you put the towel on?” Arlene asked.
“Modesty,” Bill said. He kissed slowly, continued upward.
Arlene sat back against the pillows. She tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the joint. Bill took it, took two quick hits then put what was left into the ashtray.
“Why would you be modest?” Arlene asked.
“Boy, that presumptuous word again,” said Bill.
“Well, let’s skip any presumptions,” said Arlene. “I think we’re moving way beyond presumptions. Just do what you do and be happy at it.”
“I’m somewhat reticent,” said Bill. “Given that you confided in me about your mother, I think it behooves us to actually get to know each other.”
“You know Lorraine, don’t you? And you know Mary. Right?”
Bill looked at Arlene. “I do know Mary a little. I know more about her than I actually know her. Same is true for Lorraine. I don’t know Lexi, or Bea, or Norma. I’ve screwed them, but I can’t say I really know them. I can’t even say I want to. But I’m pretty sure I want to know you.”
