She was fast asleep after half a paragraph. She dreamed of the rocking horse she'd had as a small girl, except in the dream the rocking horse could talk. It had an Irish accent.*Simon was distracted, in fact, he was feeling a little guilty. He'd just finished his call to 'madame' Olivia, to book another appointment with Mattie, about which he was relieved. He had actually been quite taken with her, but the reason for his unease was because of what had happened after she'd left. He had misjudged her.As he'd been on expenses on his trip to the city, he'd been able to book into a posh hotel suite and that was fine, he enjoyed the chance to do that (enjoyed it all the more when he had the pleasure of a beautiful woman, not that he'd employed the services of an escort much, but he knew that his time was limited and he couldn't be bothered going through the rigmarole of picking someone up). He was mostly pretty successful when it came to the opposite sex, certainly he had the gift of the. Bouncing up anddown... I can feel him getting harder, I can feel him explode... hegives a little Navajo war cry as he comes... he's still interested innative American rights and causes... and then afterwards he's prettynice... we eat blueberries and whipped cream, mashed potatoes andcheese burgers and vanilla ice cream in bed... then he smears the icecream all over my ass and fucks me again. Marlon was incorrigible.This is all in 1981.That was the year I met M. Marlon introduced us. He took me out to M'splace. A huge fairytale estate near Santa Barbara where M. resided likethe phantom of the opera... surrounded by colored lights andcarousels... giraffes and roller coasters... costing like a billiondollars a day but he didn't care... M. lived in his head, not in thereal world... he was like Gatsby... part of a great American traditionof extraordinary men and women who recreated themselves in Hollywood...M. liked to play dress up and so did I so we hit off right away... twogirls in a.
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