Excerpt Toy Party

I love Saturdays. You get up whenever you want, pull on shorts or sweats, drink some coffee and eat a bowl of Froot Loops while you watch cartoons on TV. In the afternoon you watch sports stuff, and then you clean up and go find a woman and take her back to your place and screw her eyes out. Well, okay, maybe the last part doesn't happen every weekend. Okay, it's never happened. Someday it will. I'm sure of it. Things are looking up. See, last Saturday afternoon I was watching sports when my doorbell rang.

Now I'd heard of women who were called "stunning," but I don't think I'd ever seen one until I opened my door. I always figured it just meant they were really good-looking. I didn't know it meant you would actually be stunned when you looked at them, just like somebody had poked you with a cattle prod.

She was standing there with a large suitcase, big blue eyes, breasts that screamed "squeeze me," and... Well, you get the picture. "Hi!" she said, in one of those bright, throaty, bouncy voices that make you think of bubble gum. "I'm here for the party!"


"The party! This is the Reynolds residence, isn't it? 3-B?"

"This is 3-B, but my name's not Reynolds."

She pulled an appointment book out of her purse and studied it. "No, I wrote down 3-B. Is there somebody in this building named Reynolds? Maybe I wrote it wrong."

"I just moved in," I said. Her eyes were blinking rapidly and for a second I thought I could feel a breeze from those eyelashes. "I don't know anybody," I added.

She stomped her foot, causing some wonderful things to happen to her superstructure. "Oh, damn!" she said. "This is terrible! May I use your phone?"

I let her in, pointing the way to the telephone. She brought her suitcase in, dropped it, and headed for the telephone. I followed her with my eyes. Her jeans were so tight her bottom was- Oh, I just can't bear to think about it right now. It's too painful.

She consulted her little book again and dialed a number. She was standing with a hip cocked, twisting her rear end just perfectly, making me want to rush over and grab those glorious mounds of flesh. I had to push the thought out of my mind. She was far too pretty for that kind of thing. Besides, she probably knew some of those oriental self-defense tricks that would turn me into a pretzel in an instant. All girls that pretty know about that stuff.

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