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do it again. I was about to close my eyes and drift off to sleep when the front doorbell rang. “God,” I breathed, thinking that the musician had come back for more as I almost fell off the sofa. And never again would I drink too much.
    Perhaps he returned to inform me that he'd fallen in love with me. Love? That would 36
    be all I needed! Walking through the hall, I brushed my hair back with my fingers and took a deep breath. Perhaps I should pretend to be asleep in bed, I thought, hovering by the door. Best to get it over with, I decided.
     
    “Hi, Jade!” Jackie trilled as I opened the door. “Thought I'd come round for coffee.”
    “At this time of night?” I sighed. “It's almost twelve.”
    “So what? Put the kettle on and we'll have a chat.”
    “How was the nomad?” I asked as she followed me into the kitchen.
    “The
    what?”
    “That dreadful man you were groping in the pub.”
    “His name's Dave. He's great. We went to the park and walked by the pond.”
    “And?”
    “Well,
    you
    know.”
    “Yes, I believe I do. How many men have you had?”
    “Don't know, I lost count. Anyway, what about you?”
    “Me?”
    “How did you get on?”
    “Alan came back for coffee.”
    “Not another Alan?” she grinned. “Did you do it?”
    “Do it? Jackie, sex isn't ... No, we didn't do it. We talked about writing books and poetry and music, and then he went home.”
     
    Pouring the coffee, I eyed Jackie's dishevelled hair. There was grass on her skirt, and I imagined her on her back in the park as the nomad fucked her to orgasm. I 37
    couldn't help thinking that her pussy would be full of sperm. I was about to tell her that she'd behaved no better than a slut, but realized that I'd been as bad, if not worse.
    The pot calling the kettle black, as my father always said. I wanted to tell Jackie that I'd been mouth-fucked, but thought better of it. I was the pot, the sperm-pot.
     
    “There,” I smiled, passing her a cup of coffee. “So, are you seeing him again?”
    “I doubt it,” she replied dismissively. “He's broke so there's not much point.
    Mind you, he was good in the park.”
    “That's your criteria, then? Money and good in bed. Was he clean?”
    “Clean?” she frowned.
    “He looked dirty. I doubt that he's washed in weeks.”
    “He was scruffy, but clean,” she returned. “You're such a snob, Jade. That's why you never have any fun. You're too haughty to mix with normal people and enjoy life. What do you think you've got in your knickers? Some sort of priceless treasure to be kept secret from the world? We've all got cunts, Jade. Whether you like it or not, all women have cunts.”
    “I know that. What I meant was ... Anyway, I'm not a snob. It's just that I don't agree with screwing around. And I don’t like the word ... The C word.”
    “You won't even write about sex, let alone do it.”
    “As it happens, I ... I gave Alan a blowjob.”
    “You sucked him off?” she shrieked, holding her hand to her mouth.
    “Yes, I did. So you can forget about snobbery and my never having any fun.”
    “Good God. Jade-the-prude sucking a bloke's knob on the first night. Did he fuck you?”
    “No, he didn't. I don't want to talk about it, Jackie.”
    38
    “But you'll write about it?”
    “I
    might.”
     
    Wishing that I'd kept my mouth shut, with both Jackie and Alan, I sat at the table and toyed with my coffee cup. Hanging my head, I felt embarrassed. Jackie was gazing at me, I could feel her stare burning into me. Was I a snob? I wondered. I'd always had a thing about clean clothes, noticed what people were wearing and whether they'd washed or not, but that wasn't snobbish. Perhaps my attitude towards sex was prudish, but that didn't make me a snob.
     
    Turning my thoughts to erotic fiction, I gazed at the swell of Jackie's breasts exposed by her partially open blouse. I wanted to see her nipples, compare her breasts with mine. Pondering on her sex crack, I took a deep breath. Why was I