Well, it wasn't as great as they tell you it's supposed to be in Playgirl, but I guess it wasn't bad for a first try.

Not that I'm any judge of experience in that direction.

Cass took his sweet time, which I'm grateful for, and he didn't laugh when I fumbled around in the dark with his unfamiliar geography.

I'm even more grateful for that.

So we lay there half asleep afterwards, Cass resting on top, me on bottom, face pressed lightly against the side of my neck, breathing shallowly. He didn't smell half as bad as I remembered.

Right about then I realized that Cass wasn't in his mid-thirties as I'd originally taken him for. Was he really that boy-slim beneath his clothes, or was it just my hands telling me stories in the dark?

"Cass, how old are you, really?"

He shifted down my body, laying his head between my breasts, "Old enough." he mumbled sleepily, then, "Mind if we smoke?"

Gee, now he asks! I ran my fingers through his hair, it was thick and soft. I tightened my grip, tugging at it absently. "Only if you sit up and don't spill ash on me."

"Fair 'nuff."

The click-scrape of a lighter, a flare of light that shines red through his ears, he's got his back turned to me so I can't see his eyes. Drag, exhale, lean back against headboard, arm comes' round me, plays with my jaw, shades back on, face looking down at me, teeth concealed, mouth more relaxed than I've ever seen it. "Thanks lass. Better'n dessert, a good smoke is." He kisses my throat languidly in between puffs.

His sunglasses are back on, he's opaque again.

"So, how old are you, really. 17? 18?" The building shakes under a fresh blast of wind. Despite the room heater being on "high", cold slithers across my skin, I shiver and pull the faded chenille bedspread over me. "16?"

Cigarette pauses briefly at mouth, long slow drag, exhale, then: "Now that we be askin' personal questions, how old are yeh?" Cass pulls the spread over his legs and settles me up against his side. He feels like a furnace.

I yawn, "29, on a good day."

"Seh, I sees yeh don't care to tell me then neither." Inhale, dull orange glow outlines edge of glasses, jaw, flash of teeth, bared to molars, nose, then dies down. He's laughing at me, silently. "Yeh know, there's better thing to be doin' in a blizzard than playin 'truth 'r dare' ." His free hand begins to explore me, slipping down between my thighs, to distract me?

"I get your point." I fend him off, but not for long because I don't want to. Cass's fingers slide in, exploring, "So, where did you and my brother Robbie meet?" My hips rise in response, thighs spreading without my permission, but it feels so good I don't care . He shifts in the twilight gloom of the room so that he's now between my legs. Inhale, the glow lights up his face, leaving the hollows of his eyse dark. I reach out and stroke his cheek as he puts the cigarette aside for a moment and begins to kiss my belly, going ever lower, pausing at my navel to sample it, then ever lower, hand still pleasuring me, sliding in one finger, then two, caressing me from the inside out, slowly moving downward. His hair tickles.

"So where'd you meet Robbie?" My head is going to explode, I dig my fingers into his shoulders to steady the world, trying unsuccessfully not to giggle.

Cass pauses, takes another drag, "Somewhere." Still laughing. Tiny point of cigarette-glow moves to ashtray, goes out. He slides slowly up the length of my body, skin on skin, arm now around my waist, free hand caressing my breasts and throat, hot mouth full of smoke covering mine. I can feel his dick hardening against my leg. He cradles me, burying his face in my butchered hair, and we roll over, I'm on top now, feeling the muscles of his belly and upper thighs shift and roll enticingly between my legs . "Let me show yeh somethin'. Yeh'll like this..."

"Better than the last time?" I start my own kiss, venturing into his mouth with my tongue. His breath tastes of meat and nicotine, bourbon and blood; I wanted more...God his teeth felt sharp. My hands wandered, were all men this velvety-rough underneath their clothes?

We come up for air, "So, you think I'll like this better?" Teasingly I nip at the end of Cass' nose and he snaps back, laughing, "Much better lass, much, much better..."

I gasp as his big knuckled hands guide me down onto his dick. I'm slick this time with semen, but the head of his uncircumcised dick still feels like I'm sliding down onto something the size of a beer can.

I pause, unsure.

"'S all right luv, 's all right," He whispers in my ear, it sounds like he's singing to me, lips tickling me, "It get easier, I promise yeh it will. It always does." Kisses me lingeringly down my throat, "It get's easier...if you let it...houl' on sweet...houl' on...owd Cass wants teh show yeh somethin'..." He takes my thighs and pulls my knees up, and he thrusts his hips up and in. I gasp. It hurts and feels wonderful, better than the last time, "See, pet? Not seh bad now that I'm in all the way," he grips my backside, thrusting in and out, hips working easily. "Oh sweet thing, sweet lass, I could show yeh everything if only you'd let me stay..." We roll over, facing each other, his body moving against mine, in and out, deeper and deeper, slick with sweat, "Hold on, sweet, hold on lass...that's a good girl..." I wrap a leg around Cass and he grips me tight, stiffens, hisses, taking me with him as he climaxes.

Fuck you Paolo, fuck you for everything I ever allowed you to do to me.

Well, the story doesn't end here, not really. Will Cass fuck this one up with his usual panache? Will Jackie figure out that she's being had? Will they be able to check out of the hotel without having to pay for the holes Cass punched in the walls? What happens if they run out of booze and smokes before they run out of blizzard? Will either one of them ever make it to St. Louis in one piece? You tell me how you want it to end!