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The rest of the afternoon was spent lolling about the balcony, kissing, caressing, rubbing oil on each other and letting the slippery parts slide in and out. Once the first passion was past, they just made love slowly, getting Sara off again and again. Steve made a pitcher of sangria. When the pistachios were opened, the shells and papery inner linings stuck to their oily skins.

The sun went down and they showered off the coating of nuts, salt, oil and sex. One thing led to another and Sara got laid again — this time, on her bed in front of the mirror — with a full range of gasps and groans and cries of happy fulfillment.

The guys made dinner. Baked fennel, spicy oven-roasted potatoes and loin lamb chops served with Steve's wonderful red wine. Ice cream with hot fudge and whipped cream. They were hungry, so there was little talk until Sara's fine, seventy-five-year old brandy appeared. Over the edge of his glass, Ralph asked, "Say, Sara. What about Teddy? Is he coming tomorrow? Can he handle this?'

Sara told Ralph of Teddy's call the night before. And she didn't think Teddy could have 'handled it'.

"Well, you know, yourself, Sara, he was sort of your childhood sweetheart, all grown up. You had this romantic thing about Teddy, you took care of him. And for him, you were his innocent, beautiful love. I'm not even sure how he managed to go to bed with you.'

"He did, though, and he was good in bed, ' Sara said. "But you're right, we had a pretty unreal relationship. Just the same, I will miss him a lot. There's no substitute for someone who thinks you are beautiful and pure and innocent.'

"As well as hell in bed, ' Ralph added.

Sara laughed ruefully, and dabbed her eyes with her napkin. Steve pulled her close, their bodies blending on the dining bench. "From what he said on the phone, though, ' Steve said, "he learned a lot from you. He probably won't spend the rest of his life looking for the unattainable, and he'll know a good lay when he finds it. You gave him a lot of things he needed.'

"Thanks, Steve. I hope you're right. And I got a lot from him in terms of trust and adoration, even though he knew all about my lifestyle. He likes Ralph, even though he knew his Sundays were a continuation of the Saturdays I spent fucking Ralph. They used to meet sometimes. 'Changing shifts', he called it.

"But, I'm glad you brought this up. Tomorrow is now officially open — you don't have to go to a museum, Steve. Can you spend all day, Ralph? I have an idea.'

Ralph could stay. He even said they would have to drive him off at gunpoint.

"Well, see what you think of this. Last week, I met the girlfriend, no, the wife of the guy I sleep with Tuesday nights. He's Jerry Goldsmith, she's Bev Suzuki, a free-lance graphic artist. I spent the afternoon with her and the night with Jerry, Bev and her Tuesday night boyfriend. Now, with Teddy not coming — not going to be here — (that's awful!), ' Sara giggled. "Anyway, what do you say I call Jerry and Bev and ask them to come over for brunch and whatever? Ralph, you might find it worthwhile new contact.' Sara leered at him.

"Oh, does she have Saturdays open?' Ralph leered back.

Sara dumped a soggy lettuce leaf in his lap. "Idiot! But you two might get on, or get it on, or whatever. Anyway, what's the reaction?'

"Sounds like you've got another plan, Stan, ' Steve said.

"Sounds like fun to me, ' Ralph said. "But you know, I'm thinking of spending a little more time with Helen these days.'

"Helen's your other girlfriend?' Sara asked. "Somehow, I hadn't thought of you as a one-woman man.'

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By Fidget Hate: Evelyn and Frank's Story "Fuck you, Frank! No girl would ever want to have sex with you, you sexist pig, least of all me! Now get out of my house!" "We'll see how you feel now that I have this!" Frank said, pulling what looked like a toy raygun out of his bag and brandishing it at her. Evelyn knew exactly what the F.E.T.I.S.H. Ray was after seeing it on the news earlier that day, and knew that she was probably about to be instilled with a series of irresistible sexual...

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