Naked Came the Stranger - By Penelope Ashe Page 0,67

faint mustache. Gillian Blake had firm, mobile lips. They were very sensual.

Melvin filled the power mower's gas tank and started to get back on the seat when the unbelievable happened.

"Hi there, home owner," she called. It was her! It was Gillian Blake!

Melvin got back off the mower. He felt as if he were in a dream. He trembled with excitement as he watched her coming up the walk. She was wearing a clinging white jersey, and white, tapered slacks. The slacks were sufficiently tight to afford him an impression of her love triangle as she came toward him. He just stood there admiring every inch of her.

"Do I really look that good?" she said.

"What?"

"The way you're looking at me. Do I really look that good?"

"Oh, uh?? Excuse me." Melvin was stammering.

"Don't apologize," she said. "You're just what the ego ordered."

"Well, uh, you do look very attractive, Mrs. Blake."

"Oh come on," she said, "call me Gilly."

"Gi-Gi-Gilly."

"Mmm, that's better. So, why am I here? Well, I must tell you that I'm being very civic today. I'm absolutely up to my you-know-what in good works. I'm collecting for dementia praecox."

Melvin gaped.

"Hey," she said, "that's a joke, son. Actually, I'm collecting for the National Parapsychology Association."

"Oh," he said. "Well, Myrna, uh my wife, she's not in right now. She's at the beauty parlor."

"We don't need her, do we? You can give me the donation."

"Right. Yes. Sure. Uh??" he said. "Uh, you'll have to pardon me, I just don't seem to be organized today. I mean, I was getting gas for the mower and everything."

"It's okay," she said. "I understand."

She probably did understand, thought Melvin. She probably understood everything there was to understand. She was wonderful.

Gillian smiled at him, and then started for the house. Melvin walked behind her. It was almost as if her rear end had a mind of its own, the way it moved in the tight, white stretch fabric.

Melvin wondered what reality was, as the object of most of his sex fantasies settled herself on a couch in his living room while he got out the checkbook. "My," she said. "you have a lovely home."

"You and your husband should come over sometime socially," Melvin said.

"Oh, let's not talk about him," she said. "My, isn't that nice." Melvin had given her a check for $25. He rarely gave more than a few dollars to causes but, after all, this was such a worthwhile charity.

"Listen, I'm glad to help," he said. She leaned back, smiling at him.

"Uh, it certainly was nice talking to you at the Garden Club party," he said.

"Aren't you going to offer me a drink?" she said.

"Yes," he said. "Certainly. I was just about to ask." His voice almost cracked with excitement. "What would you like?"

"A martini. Very dry. Nine to one. Lemon peel."

Melvin bustled about the kitchen making the drinks. Thank God, he and Myrna had started having an occasional martini at home. Of course, he usually made his two to one. Holy Christ! Nine to one! He made enough for a couple of drinks.

Gillian plumped the couch, and motioned to him to sit next to her. "Cheers," she said. Then she laughed. "No. L'Chaim."

They touched glasses. The first swallow brought tears to Melvin's eyes, but he stuck with it. Thank God, they had Beefeater gin in the house. He had been told that it was the best. He was sure someone as sophisticated as Gillian Blake could tell the difference.

"Really," he said, "you and Mr. Blake should come over some time."

"Please," she said. "I meant what I said before. Let's not talk about him. That would be much too dreary."

"But your husband does seem like an impressive guy."

"Believe me, Mel, you're twice as interesting."

The drink had hit Melvin almost immediately. "You're kidding me," he said.

"No, honestly," she said. She put her hand on his wrist.

"I should have married someone like you. What is it they say, a nice Jewish boy?"

"That's right," said Melvin, thinking that nine to one was a perfect ratio. "A nice Jewish boy. Nice Jewish boys make great husbands."

"Ummm, I'll bet they do," she said. "I'll bet they make great lovers, too."

Melvin tried for what he hoped was a nonchalant grin. She winked. "You know, Mel," she said, "You're a very attractive man."

"Listen," he said, overcome by her nearness and the nine-to-one ratio. "You're the best-looking woman I ever saw."

"Billy never tells me anything like that," she said.

"Well, he should," said Melvin, wondering what a woman like her had ever seen in a jerk like