A minute earlier I had laid my arm across my lap in order to hide my by-now-obvious hard-on, but I now decided that it was time to counter her display by letting her see the bulge in my pants. Shortly after I had moved my arm away I saw her lower her gaze and was delighted that it lingered there for longer than just a glance. Cyril had moved close to the island a couple of times and had obviously seen her exposed thigh. Each time he cleared his throat, and inclined his head and cast his eyes towards it, indicating to her that she should cover up. She paid no attention to him, which quite obviously irritated him as he started knocking a couple of utensils around noisily behind the counter top in an aggravated manner. When he wasn’t looking, my gaze regularly shifted down to her bare thigh and I knew that she was aware of it. At one point, just after Cyril had left the room for a minute, as if to emphasize whatever it was we were talking about, I reached over and put my hand on her. She flinched, but I explored further, cupping her mound in my hand. I felt no wetness, no sign of arousal. ”Kay, enough of that.’ Julie said soberly, pulling her underwear and jeans. She went into the tiny kitchen, opened a beer, decided not to drink it, and came back into the living room. She stared at me with those intense, gray eyes for a long time. She seemed to lose all sense of humor, and looked pinched and preoccupied, her tousled hair the only clue that we ever wrestled with passion. Then, without a word, she walked into her bedroom. I could hear her fall under the covers, and turn out the light. ‘What the hell just happened?’ I wondered. I grabbed her tapes, threw on my jacket, and headed for the door. Not the weirdest night of my life, but it was close. Julie was definitely not being herself. Something was troubling her. I wanted to know what it was. And damn me if I was going to leave before I found out what it was. I turned off the living room lights, and walked into.
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