“Yes, you do. In the background the drumming played with a low throb. She’s in the door, stopping traffic.” He glanced up wistfully at Kass’s lithe form. “Yes, I may take your offer. Later that day, he slipped a disk into her mailbox with a short note explaining that he hadn’t finished it by that morning. You, uh, need room five, corridor one?”
She eyed him. He watched her move through the paneled doors in a swirl of dark gray cloak and allowed himself the luxury of leaning his head on his hands and groaning. It was an absurd dream. He slid his hands into her robe, stroking his thumbs, with a feeling of disbelief, up the rows of nipples, four on each side, watching her arch and quiver as he touched them. They were an amazingly race: graceful, refined, physically beautiful. She leaned forward over the counter. ***
Con hunched over his drink, eying the doorway. I would not wish to lose the records of your courtship; they are an art in themselves.”
Con sat, quietly stunned, as Dag grinned and pushed the disks toward him.
