They walked the hills, rode the cable cars, and climbed the broad gray steps to the Fairmont Hotel. They tumbled on the bed next to a cart with caviar, smoked salmon, triangles of toast, lemon slices, bits of eggs, chopped onions, and black pepper. They clinked their glasses and emptied them and kissed each other’s lips wet with wine. She took the bottle and laughed wantonly as the champagne foamed over the rim of her glass and onto the rings on her fingers. She flicked her tongue over the platinum and diamonds and refilled Jesse’s glass. She reached her champagne hand to his face and slipped a finger in his mouth and poking at the inside of his cheek, said, “You’re a Moolie Monster.”
“What’s a Moolie Monster?”
“You are.” She was naked now, before him. And once again, as if he’d never seen her, he was struck by the mystery of her, the wanton sensuality. Her beauty seemed to recreate itself right before his eyes each time he looked at her and snare him heart and soul.
He slipped his hand around the soft slender column of her neck. “I never get used to looking at you. I feel I have this great treasure in knowing that all I have to do is turn my head and I’ll see that carved nose and those smoky eyes.” Suddenly amused, he chuckled.
“What?”
“I was just thinking that sometimes I think that because I love you, I should be able to sing…perfectly.” He reached to touch her skin.
They flowed, melting into each other, smelling and tasting the beauty, drinking the spilling love running like a river through the glory of it all. In a hoarse whisper, she said, “Yes, Jesse, yes…come to me now…take me now.” Explosive ribbons of his seed swam in her juices, circled slowly, and stayed to see what might occur.