“How was it? My speech?”
“Fabulous.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Of course not.”
“I felt it played rather well.”
“It was majestic.”
“Captain Flanagan…”
“You don’t need to say anything nice to me, Lena.”
“I may have underestimated you.”
He pauses, a twinkle in his eyes. “And I, you,” he says, gallantly.
“This is a bold thing you have embarked upon.”
“It is the grandest endeavour in all human history.”
“I admire you.”
“Thank you.”
“Will you…”
“What?”
“Hold my hand.”
“Of course.”
He does.
“And stroke my cheek.”
“If you wish.”
He does.
“And kiss me.”
“Hey now.”
The Captain looks alarmed. He is a cartoon figure with big bushy grey beard and wild eyes, and he dresses like a blind man. But I have become fond of him. I run my fingers through his hair. I press my lips to his.
After a few minutes I release my kiss.
“Is that good?” I ask him.
“Sublime.”
“You’re not just saying that.”
“Of course not.”
“Do you love me, Captain?”
“Kiss me again, if you like.”
I do. I run my fingers over his crotch. I feel his manhood stir. I do have power over him. I do. Honestly!
I do!