"Jack Dann - Ting-A-Ling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dann Jack)

"Tell me if it's true about the money?"
She raised her head, exaggeratedly sniffing the air, and said, "My partner, Mr.
Milton Green, thank you, is negotiating everything. We'll see what happens."
"It is true . . . you bitch." Jimmy laughed and moved closer to her; she put her arm around
him.\
"My corporation will be paid, but I might take just a teeny bit for \myself."
They laughed hysterically.
"And your corporation should buy you all the pink Cadillacs you can drive."
"I'll have a different one every time I go out."
"Are you going out much?"
"Constantly, and I have to drive back and forth from New York to the Greens in
Connecticut. Do you think I would condescend to drive the same car every time I go to
Connecticut? That would be like wearing the same dress to every party. No, sir-ree, I'll buy
myself a fleet of new Cadillacs."
Jimmy ran his finger over her sweater and played with her breasts. Marilyn didn't seem
notice, although her nipples became erect.
"I love these," Jimmy said.
"You could fool me. Your squeezing them like you're trying to make mud pies." Jimmy
stopped touching her and stared ahead. His long brown hair, which was greasy and
needed a wash, was tousled, and his eyes narrowed as they always did when he was
concentrating. He pushed his thick-lensed glasses against the bridge of his nose; it was a
nervous habit.
"Go ahead, you can make mud pies," Marilyn said.
"I never did that to Pier."
"You never squeezed her tits?"
"She didn't like it, maybe because they're tiny."
"So what did you do?"
"We just fucked."
"That's it?"
"Cuddled."
"You want to cuddle me?" Marilyn asked.
"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."
"I'll stop right here, we can do it right here. If we got caught, tell me that wouldn't make
good copy."
"I want to talk for a little while," Jimmy said, sounding childlike. "And I want to drive."
"What do I get if I let you drive?"
"A cuddle and a ting-a-ling."
"A what?"
"You got to let me drive to find out."
"Okay . . . you drive." With that Marilyn slid onto Jimmy's lap and let go of the steering
wheel. Jimmy grabbed it and pulled himself into the driver's seat.
"Jesus H. Christ!"
Marilyn giggled and let her hand rest on his crotch as he drove. She scolded him when h
didn't get an erection. "I can't do two things at once," he said.
"What if I do this?" and she slid across the leather seat so she could put her head on his
She bit him gently through the stiff denim of his jeans until he became hard. "Well, that see
to work," she said. She unzipped his fly, carefully worked his penis out of his shorts, and
teased him with her tongue.
"You really do have a death wish, don't you," Jimmy said.
"If you say so. Do you want me to stop?"