I closed apartment door and merely stared at her. She was running the fingertips of her right hand through the mass of long and straight honey-colored hair. With most of the weight on one slender leg, her hip was cocked provocatively.
She had some of the same humor of Bonnie lurking in the depths of her dark eyes but there the resemblance between the sisters ended. Honey’s breasts were exquisite, huge sculptured cones jammed inside the dark sweater.
Bonnie asked, “What are you doing out in the rain, Sis?”
“I went to a movie. I thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing.” Honey’s glance shifted over to me and made a quick appraisal. “I’d say you were doing all right.”
“Lincoln just dropped by for a drink. He wanted to talk to Lee.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“I wouldn’t mind a drink,” Honey said.
“Don’t rush off, Lincoln,” Bonnie said. “Stay and have a drink with us.”
“All right.” I said, tossing my trench coat onto the couch.
“I’ll help you fix it, Sis,” Honey volunteered.
Together they walked out of the room. I walked over to the windows on the south side of the apartment and stared through the glass. Except for the rain drops splattering onto the balcony just outside the windows, I couldn’t see a thing outside. The rain had really socked in on Los Angeles.
I turned my back on it and then strolled towards the fireplace, stretching out on my back and using the same rug and cushion I’d used before. Then I stared at the flames, the way I’d stared before. Only this time I wasn’t seeing them.
I was seeing only the deductive curved and outline of Honey’s figure silhouetted against the brightness of the flames. A girl like that shouldn’t be allowed to be out alone at night, I decided. Especially on a murky night like this.
The two sisters returned a few minutes later. Bonnie was carrying two glasses, Honey her own and they were talking softly, giggling about something that Bonnie must have said.
I started to get to my feet.
“Don’t get up,” Honey said, “because we’re coming down to join you.”
The three of us stretched out on the rug and placed; our glasses on our stomachs. This time Honey was next to me. We weren’t touching but I could feel the heat from her seeping through my clothes and warming my side.
“Did you get your car fixed, Sis?” Bonnie was asking.
“Not yet.”
“Then how did you get in from the valley?”
“I took a cab.”
“Well, it’s nice to hear one of my relatives has a lot of money.”
Up until that moment I’d been sipping at my scotch, not paying too much attention to what they were saying. It was sister-to-sister chatter. The usual inside stuff not meant for strangers.
Honey was saying, “I’d hoped you might give me a ride home, Sis.”
And at that moment it wasn’t sister-to-sister chatter anymore. I said, “I’d be happy to give you a ride home, Honey.”
Real quick Bonnie said, “Well, we pulled it off, Sis.”
Honey pulled her head around to look at me. She was smiling and her hand gripped my arm briefly. “Don’t you believe her, Lincoln. We hadn’t planned it.
But I appreciate the offer.”
“But do you accept?” I asked.
“Yes.” She said it very softly and for a brief moment her glance held mine.
“Very much.”
She swung her head around to look at her sister because Bonnie was asking about the latest report from home. That shook me momentarily because my first impression was that Honey was living with her parents. She wasn’t. They were back in the Mid-west somewhere.
It was Honey who brought me back into the conversation. “Where is your home, Lincoln?”
“Los Angeles. I’m a native.”
“Really? I haven’t met any of them.”
“I hope you’re not disappointed.”
There was something delightfully warm and frank about Honey. And she knew a few things about timing. With her head turned again so that she could look at me she inhaled slowly. Her chest came up and the two lovely mounds on top towered majestically, like the highest peaks in the Alps.
She held her breath for a couple of seconds and then she exhaled again. The chest went down some but her breasts were still as proud and eye-catching as before.
She purred, “I’m not disappointed at all.” Bonnie said, “He thrives on aspirin, Sis.” “Really?”
“As long as he can wash them down with scotch.”
Reluctantly, it seemed, her glance left me, and she swung her head around to look at Bonnie. “Then I’ll have to get some on the way home.’ “When do you start to work?” Bonnie asked.
“Tuesday”
“Good luck, my dear.”
“Thank you.” Honey was bringing her glass up as she sat upright. She finished her drink. I had the feeling she was getting ready to leave, and so I knocked off the little I had left in my glass.
“And thank you for the drink,” Honey said, getting to her feet.
I was up and standing beside her as Bonnie got off the rug. “I’ll add my thanks to that, Bonnie, as well as the aspirin.”
“You’re most welcome, Lincoln,” Bonnie said. Her glance lingered on my face, her eyes dark and every soft. “Drive carefully, won’t you?”
“I promise.” I walked over to the couch and picked up my trench coat. When I turned around with it I saw the two sisters holding each other affectionately, lips touched to cheeks.
Now as Honey turned away from Bonnie I asked, “Didn’t you wear a coat?”
“No,” Honey said. “The cab was waiting when I left my apartment and I completely forgot it.”
“You can borrow one of mine,” Bonnie offered.
“We’ll manage.” I brought up my trench coat and spread a tent over Honey and me.
“This is fun,” she said, snuggling her lush body against mine.
“It looks very cozy,” Bonnie said.
I thought I detected a bit of ice in her voice but I was already moving with Honey toward the door. Then she added, “I doubt if you’ll need it, going down the elevator.”
Honey laughed; “You never know.”
I did take the tent off of us as we waited for the elevator. Then it arrived and the doors slid open. Honey waved back at Bonnie as she stepped inside.
Going down I said, “You love your sister very much.”
“Oh, yes,” Honey said. “We’re very close. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
While we were stepping out of the elevator and walking across the lobby we talked about our families, as though we’d been friends for years. Then we were at the door getting ready to step outside.
I put the tent over us again and we walked out into the pouring rain. Honey snuggled up against me, her right arm around the small of my back. We walked slowly because the sidewalks were wet and slippery. With each step I could feel her luscious hip and thighs brushing up against mine.
You can’t explain it. I couldn’t explain it. But just that touch of her accelerated the pounding of my heart. And started thinking about a lot of wild things. Like wanting to see her and her big breasts completely nude, wanting to get my hands on her, to feel her and pin my bareness against that lush and seductive body.
Reluctantly I opened the door for her and she ducked inside. I ran around to the other side, flung my coat inside, then slid under the wheel.
Honey said, “What a miserable night.”
“Maybe it’ll get better.”
She was watching me through the long, dark lashes as I pulled away from the curb. “It can’t get any worse,” she said, and then she slid across the seat until her thigh was pressed against mine.
“Where do you live, Honey?”
She told me she had a small apartment in Van Nuys, between Van Nuys and Sepulveda Boulevards. While I crept westbound on Los Feliz so that I could eventually get onto the Hollywood Freeway she told me that she could hardly wait until Tuesday, the day she went to work.
“What do you do?”
“I’ve been existing on my unemployment checks,” she said. “Tuesday I start my new job – topless.”
I’d been squinting through the rain-lashed windshield, trying to keep the car between the traffic lines on the freeway. But I just had to turn my head now and let my glance go to her breasts. The twin peaks were trying to break out the front of her sweater.
“That I’d like to see.” Then I whipped my head away from her and concentrated on my driving.
“Would you really, Lincoln?”
Her hand was gripping my thigh, the fingers fidgeting excitedly. “I consider that a compliment!”
“I consider it a treat.”
I felt her hand still momentarily and I knew that she’d understood what Id been trying to tell her. Her hand didn’t move away, and the fingers were resting on the inside of my thigh.
Then in a low, husky voice she was telling me that she was a bit nervous about her first performance in front of a live audience and the trouble she’d had with her agent, and her routine. Finally she was going into detail, telling me about what she’d planned.
According to Honey she wanted more than just a straight topless act where the dancer comes on stage, flips ‘aside her bra and begins the dance. Honey wanted something more because eventually she hoped to get into TV and movies. Because those were basically art forms, she’d decided to make her topless act an art form, too.
“I’d like to do my act for you, Lincoln,” she was saying now. “If you’re not in a rush to get home, or you’ve nothing better to do, would you stay and let me perform for you?” She’d turned in the seat; and she was looking at me, her shoulder shoved hard against mine. “And give me your honest opinion what you think of it?”
If I’d had something planned I would have forgotten about it because I had to see Honey’s act I’d let her dance especially for me any Saturday night.
“It would be my pleasure, Honey. I’ll pick up some scotch at the first liquor store we find, and then we’ll make a party out of it.”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “That would be fun.”
We didn’t talk much after that but she remained snuggled up beside me, her warm young body molded against my side. There was a liquor store three blocks from her apartment. I dashed inside and bought the scotch. We arrived at her apartment a few minutes later.
After I’d parked, I scurried around the car, opened the door and let her step under the tent. Quickly we went up to the entrance. Honey’s apartment was on the ground floor. The building was old and in a rundown condition and inside her apartment I saw that the furniture was faded and worn. It was a bachelor apartment. It had a large room, with a small alcove for the stove and refrigerator, and the bath. The couch along one wall apparently made up into a bed.
“It’s not much,” Honey apologized as she hung my coat in the closet, “but I’ve been unable to afford anything better.”
“In a couple of weeks you’ll be moving to a high rise.” I told her.
She was shaking the dampness from her hair and then the fingertips were combing it sensually again. “I hope so,” she said. “I want so much to be a success.”
“How old are you, Honey?”
She smiled. “Eighteen. Does that matter?”
“No,” I said. “Why don’t we have a drink?”
“Yes,” she said eagerly. “And then I’ll dance for you.”
Together we made the drinks and then we clicked glasses and had a sip. Quickly she said, “Now you just settle down over there on the couch. Make yourself at home, Lincoln. I’ll just duck into the bathroom and get into my costume.”
“Fine,” I said. “As long as you get out of it in this room.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “I fully intend to.”
She whirled around and then with the ice cubes tinkling in her glass she walked to the bathroom, entered it, and closed the door.
I kicked off my shoes and settled onto the couch, leaning backwards with a cushion at my shoulders. I sipped my scotch and waited. There was a small combination radio and phonograph on the other she of the room. Three records were lying on the frayed rug in front of it.
“Oh, Lincoln,” she called out the moment the bathroom door had opened, “would you do me a favor?” No part of her was visible.
“Certainly.”
“I forgot to fix the lights. Would you turn out all those, except the one by the couch? And tip the shade so that it will flood the center of the room?
That’s the best I can do for a spotlight.”
I flipped the light switch by the door and tipped the shade the way she’d requested.
“Oh, another thing,” she said. “Would you put the record – it’s on the floor and it had a blue center – onto the phonograph?”
I found the record she wanted, switched on the turntable, and a second later I’d placed the needle in the outside groove. Then I trotted back to my ringside seat, grabbed my glass and settled back.
“Thank you,” she said, but her voice was barely audible above the sound of music. It wasn’t a fast rock and roll number, although it did have the jarring beat. It was about half tempo, with rather a sensual rhythm, and the moment I caught sight of Honey, moving towards the center of the room, I knew her act would be a success. Tonight and every night!
She was still wearing the high-heeled pumps; but she’d exchanged the capris for a skirt. It was black, its hem was about three inches above her bare knees and it was snugged tightly to her hips and thighs. The blouse was sleeveless and also black with a very sedate and high neckline. Her fantastic breasts shoved out the material so far there was about a six-inch gap between her stomach and the bottom of the blouse.
Along with that she was wearing long black gloves. As she moved about in the center of the room, slowly removing her gloves, the long honey-colored hair shimmered and swirled around heir shoulders.
She tossed her gloves aside and slipped out of her shoes. Now as she turned around and faced me, standing in one spot. Her hips swayed and moved sensually while her hands went to the zipper of her blouse, running it down the tracks.
Then she was slipping out of it, moving it off her arms. Gracefully she tossed it aside.