"Spider Robinson - User Friendly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Spider)

disappointing, or she'd have AIDS, or a bonebreaker boyfriendтАФthe exact nature of the doom was as yet
unknown, but I knew in my heart that something was going to go wrong. (And of course, I was mistaken
about that.) But I didn't care. The thrill of seeing all those stunned faces watching her leave with me,
rubbing up against me like a cat who's just heard the can opener, wasтАФI firmly believedтАФworth any
disappointment. (And you know, perhaps I was nearly right about that.) As we reached the door, she
opened it for me with her left hand, and her right hand settled firmly and unmistakably on my ass to
guide me out into the night. There was an audible collective gasp from behind us.
Once we were on the street I flung up my arm to hail a cab. Cabs never stop for me, even when I wave
large bills at them. I was operating on dream logic.
And a cab pulled up with a squeal of brakes, and the cabbie jumped out and opened the door for us.
It was her, of course, not me. I knew just how the cabbie felt. I could sense his astonishment that she
was with me, and I agreed with him, and gave him a smile that tried to say, "It's a dream, pal, go with it.
For God's sake, go with it!"
When he got back behind the wheel, he adjusted the rearview mirror and I met his baffled gaze. I gave
my address, Marga added "тАФand hurry!" in a voice thick with lust, and his eyes widened even further.
We started up with a roar and a lurch, and the moment we were up to speed she opened my fly.
The cab seemed to lock its brakes on ice, spin wildly and smash into a gasoline truck. She made a small
sound of contentment and continued what she was doing. The phantom flames roared ...
The cabdriver was so profoundly shocked he was actually driving at a safe legal speed, and took us to
my place by the shortest, most direct route. Marga appeared to be totally engrossed in what she was

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doing, and God knows I was, but she sensed when we were approaching our destination somehow, and
had me zipped back up as the cab came to a halt. She paid the driver before he or I could think of it. I
had just enough presence of mind to hold the door for her as she got out. A group of leathered teens
were monopolizing the stoop of my brownstone, as usual. They turned to brown stone at the sight of us,
and did not even turn to watch as we walked up past them and into the building.
As the elevator door closed behind us, she shut off the light, leaned back against the wall and pulled me
against her. She tucked my face against her neck and hugged me so tightly, with both arms and one leg,
that I could move only a single muscle. But she seemed to be under no such constraint: she rippled, in
several directions at once, and if I lived one floor higher I'd have disgraced myself. But the elevator door
slid back and light burst in on us, and reluctantly she released me.
Standing outside the elevator, waiting to board, was Hal Grimsby, the slickest stud in my building, a
jock type who had been bringing home a different girl every night for the four years I'd been living
there, each girl prettier than the last. He was making no move to get on the elevator. You could have put
one of his handballs into his mouth without touching his lips.
Marga straightarmed him out of the way and led me past him. "Hurry, darling," she said clearly. "I'm
dripping."
Behind us, Hal made a faint gargling sound. The elevator closed and left without him.
And still it wasn't perfect yet. As we approached my apartment, the door across the hall opened and
Mary Zanfardino stepped out.
For the past four years, Mary Zanfardino had been the leading lady in an endless series of fantasies
much like the one I was now livingтАФsave that I didn't have this good an imagination. I had never
succeeded in starting a conversation with her, but I knew that she was perfectly aware of my attraction to
her, and deeply revolted by it. Now she was thunderstruck. I'd never seen pupils that large.
I turned to look at Marga. I found the sight of her as devastating as everyone else did. Her hair was
disheveled. Her nipples were prominent beneath her silk dress. She smelled like Tina Turner's panties
after a concert. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her smile would have looked just like the Mona Lisa's