Hectic!

After Beryl and Irene Coral seemed insubstantial. An educated man might've mistaken her for a sylph.

In his embrace, calmed now, Coral eased into her situation. Stroking his thick arms and wide chest, she smiled contentedly. Cuniff had done such a good job of lessening his burden, she drew her legs higher which pressed his balls firmly against her thighs.

While she assessed him, he licked and sucked Coral's thin lips. These little impertinences gave her the giggles. Cuniff palmed and gently obliterated her girlish breasts. Her nipples hardened beneath his lightest touch.

He barely felt her chest rise and fall. Beryl and Irene each chuffed steadily along. Perhaps Coral needed the ramp up then coitus before her respiration became noticeable.

Or maybe she was just one of those anaerobic chicks.

Fully aware she clutched "the prize," Coral burrowed her head into his chest. She exulted. Her joy made him laugh. Looking up from the nest of his chest, her smile as goofy as it had been during their introduction, Coral reached up and carefully let her fingers glide along Cuniff's face. She stopped on his lips momentarily, parting them slightly then continuing onto chin, throat, finally ending her mapping where the clavicles, neck and pectorals converged.

Happy incredulousness gradually left her face. It assumed an enormity sex with a relative stranger did not warrant.

"I can't believe we're here," Coral said.

Her solemnity struck him as melodramatic.

"This is what you wanted, no?" he said.

"Girls like me never get guys like you."

"That sounds like one of those bad life lessons taught on soap operas and women's movies. Maybe we should turn it around. Maybe instead it's guys like me who aren't lucky enough to value girls like you."

"I don't understand."

Cuniff had hoped his gratuitous comment would've been sufficient. Either Coral was intentionally thick or she angled for a bigger chunk of flattery. If it were the second, damn, she was smarter than he thought.

"Because you desired something," Cuniff said. "Rather than mope around and drop hints, pine, yearn, and generally make a nuisance of yourself, you had courage enough to level with Beryl. In that respect you got lucky. One because she doesn't scare easy. Two because she saw your difficulty without feeling threatened and freaking out. We both know any other woman would've turned you into a pariah faster than you could say 'Why did I fuck that guy?'"

"Maybe you're the lucky one, Sid."

"I don't need anyone to tell me that."

"Then this is what you need to hear, Sid."

"What's that?"

"You are one pretty man," Coral said. "From your lashes to your lips, your whole body, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever and will probably ever see. I'm sorry I don't love you. Especially now. But if I did I'd being going nuts right this instance. I don't wanna go nuts, Sid. I wanna ..."

Coral reached down and entwined fingers around his cock. Responding immediately to pressure, he became fully rigid.

Cuniff swept a hand by the phone where Beryl had left foil packets. Grabbing one, he opened it. He figured he'd routinely apply the prophylactic -- jam the cap on his turtle then unfurl it along his length. Coral stopped him before he started sheathing.

"Let me."

Wordlessly Cuniff handed her latex. She surprised him, affixing it orally rather than manually.

Coral untangled from their embrace. She straddled his legs and scrunched above his mast. Her mouth formed a wet "O." Using a rarely witnessed skill, Coral tongued out some of the rubber in her mouth. Space now provided for spume, she lunged forward. If Cuniff thought she might gag, he was mistaken. Using more teeth than he liked, Coral demonstrated a remarkable gullet while covering him.

Her nose brushed against his pubic beard. For Coral it was an oral day at the beach. Would she ever cease to astonish him!?

Since Beryl had put the kibosh on cunnilingus, Cuniff gave Coral's pube a two-finger treatment. He needn't have bothered. She was already moist, engorged and distended. His probing did nothing more than add gas to the refinery fire.

They reversed into comfortable positions. He considered placing pillows beneath her hips but factored mass and weight. Because of their heft, Beryl and Irene benefited from the support pillows provided. With much less of Coral to move, Cuniff chose to handle her manually

Cuniff's exertions began caring and kind but Coral tired quickly of the considerate stuff. She wanted him often, hard and fast.

A good old-fashioned pounding! That's how he'd come into Arizona. If he hadn't lucked into gentle patient guidance by ... Well, fortunately Cuniff had or else he'd still be bruising female pelvic bones by doing his utmost to emulate freight trains. Worse, his technique likely would've remained that of some smirky, smart-ass high school jock.

He'd received priceless instruction from ... One thing she got through his thick skull: pleasure given is doubly returned. Sloppy, ragged, mindless fucking -- though it had merits -- was kid stuff.

She helped him quantify his attributes: youth, endurance. In doing so she'd shown him, ah, methods which ought, when properly applied, have induced sensations that traversed the entire body as well as created some kind of shallow hallucinogenic trance.

Done really right the procedure broached spirituality.

Of course there'd been a lot of dope smoked during those fuck sessions. However, cheeba never distracted from his mastery of the mechanics. Repetition was the key.

And to think all this came about because he loved cheese Danish!

Coral's demands freed him from finesse. Cuniff returned to who and what he'd been -- a mere meat stick. Had he been in his mind then, Cuniff would've noticed Coral's insatiability equaled his own.

On the long jarring road to climax, Coral became vocal. She chanted a breathless mantra of "Oh, shit!"

She came so hard Cuniff himself felt the waves wash through her. Or maybe the shuddering was his own release on the heels of hers. Who knew? Neither much cared.

Now Coral respired heavily. A sheen, a deep blush, and a sly smile covered her face. She wiped perspiration out of her eyes, then palmed sweat off his brow. Cuniff's own breathing had become bellows. Muscle strands in his arms twitched. He uncapped Coral's ass and settled into the hot, damp valley around her sex. Gradually he lowered the rest of himself against her torso. Breaths regained, they kissed. Remorselessly. She hugged Cuniff as if to crush him.

He believed the moment required something pithy.

"I didn't notice but do you blush all over?"

Coral giggled. "Why should I tell you? You should've been paying attention."

"I was too involved elsewhere," he said. "So tell me."

"No," Coral said. "You know everything else about me. Uh, my body. Maybe that should stay our one big mystery. The one question that'll keep me somewhere in your memory."

Cuniff grinned to himself. Aside from the whole event, Coral knew what this night ultimately meant. To them both. She knew how the game was played and scored.

She'd transform their encounter into a keepsake, a most treasured one. He'd allow his portion to diminish. Not just another woman, Coral, though certainly one more on the string.

Should Coral have deserved greater consideration, it never occurred to Cuniff.

During the next hours she gave herself again and again. His beat remained the same, their subsequent go-rounds were just as feral. Getting what she asked for and satisfied by it, Coral drifted off to sleep in his arms. Cuniff followed her. His slumber, as he later suspected hers, floated on an immense carefree cumulus.

Beryl must've returned sometime around dawn. Through semi-consciousness Cuniff saw the room had brightened. Her dull voice cajoled him into sliding over. In providing bed space for the third body, a large one at that, the jostling tightened Coral against him.

When he woke for good, Coral splayed across his chest. Their legs were linked. Peace had embedded itself on her face.

On Cuniff's right, her back to them, Beryl steadily rose and fell. Her facing away he saw as fortuitous. Because if she were awake, her eyes might've incinerated their minor idyll.

Beryl talked a good game. She doubtlessly believed her sacrifice/his contribution necessary. Nevertheless wonder if jealousy willed out? There'd be no greasing the rest of this morning, day, trip, relationship, only weathering.

The bedside clock indicated nigh eleven. The taut flesh rearing upward between his legs signaled a boner. The hellacious can't conceal morning kind.

Coral stirred awake. Happiness crinkled her eyes and flooded her face.

Although technically a one-night stand, their special circumstances allowed acres of leeway. They kissed with meaning. Afterwards, she grinned shyly and ruffled his chest hair. Only by chance did she look down to see his blood-gorged ugly stick. A precocious sense grabbed her. She clutched a big hard handful of him.

How easy would it have been for Coral to mount him, burying him as it were? Well, not very. He tilted his head toward Beryl. Playfully, Coral mouthed the word, "So?"

To reiterate, Cuniff shook his head.

Coral regarded the bed's third form. She faked a pout, sighed quietly, all the while her active hand came close to uncorking his morning dilemma. The possibility stuck different silly grins on their faces. She barely suppressed a whoop.

Reluctantly, Coral uncoiled her warm fingers and rosy palm. Cuniff slurred out of bed through the foot. Ensconced in the bathroom away from such explosive stimuli, he lost interest as well as tension. He showered, sloughing off Coral. The water also diluted their night's romps.

He continued toweling off in the room. By now both girls were awake. One or the other had drawn back the window curtains. If the brilliance flooding the room was any indication, then this day had prospects as one of those golden California perfectos.

Grumpy and rumpled, Beryl wore a Beach Boys commemorative shirt he'd received after working the group's Tucson concert security detail. A pair of ragged rugby shorts poked out from beneath the tent-like shirt's hem. Coral, hunched crossed-legged in bed, ran through the television channels with the remote.

Naked in daylight revealed Coral's tan. Slight as it was. Artificial light obscured the richer tone of her shoulders and limbs. Of course until this morning Cuniff had never seen Coral's bare torso under such illumination.

Cuniff hardly noticed Beryl's expression. Had he been more of the moment perhaps he might've seen her ire.

Showering had reinvigorated Cuniff. Entering the drier room completed his revitalization.

Her inspection of TV programming finished, Coral hopped off the bed and skirted past Cuniff into the bathroom. They exchanged tiny full of knowing smiles. One barely heard water running off her body into the tub behind the closed door.

When his attention fell on Beryl, her distress erupted. She yelled.

"Will you put on some fucking clothes!"

Until Beryl's command Cuniff didn't know how naked he was. Of course he knew his state, but given all which had preceded this instant it seemed quite natural.

Thus his first indication that Beryl's proprietary nature started eclipsing her benevolence. Cuniff dug out boxers from his suitcase, then hurriedly rolled pants over them. For good measure he even threw on a shirt.

Presentable as he made himself it did nothing to soothe Beryl's distemper. When Coral traipsed out of the bathroom pink as sin, she immediately received the heavy non-verbal signal Beryl emitted. In doing her utmost to be less naked fast, Coral slowly picked through her suitcase to find an outfit right for the day. Beryl seethed all through her careful selection.

Everybody being dressed finally ceased Beryl's visual discomfort. She charged into the bathroom. Once the shower started running, Coral looked at Cuniff.

"I bet she isn't using hot water this morning," Coral said.

Whether intentionally flip or not, Cuniff snickered after her remark.

Showering only lessened Beryl's temper slightly. She remained a bear at lunch. On the ride to Los Angeles, whose miles she rode shotgun, there were outbreaks of humanity. By chance or reason Coral avoided sitting in the rearview mirror's sightlines.

When the Pacific Coast Highway branched off onto the Ventura Freeway and Los Angeles reality, Beryl had forgiven all three of them. She even stroked his thigh. They cut eyes at one another, their understanding, their reconciliation, silent but complete.

"This is L.A., all right," Beryl said. "See how brown the sky is across the city -- how blue it is over the ocean?"

Happy to pursue a line of small talk, Coral rattled off chatter which Beryl matched. Seeing the previous night absolutely erased, their relationships properly restored, Cuniff tuned out the girls' conversation.

-30-