She banged down on her side in a swirl of silken legs. *
"Satisfied with my legs?" she asked.
I didn't answer.
"Yesterday morning," she said, half dreamily, "I said there was something about you I liked—you didn't paw—and something I didn't like. Know what it was?"
"That you didn't make me do this then."
"Your manner hardly encouraged it."
"You're supposed to be a detective. Please put out all the lights now."
Then very soon in the dark she was saying, "Darling, darling, darling" in that very special tone of voice a woman uses only in those special moments. Then a slow gentle relaxing, a peace, a quietness.
"Still satisfied with my legs?" she asked dreamily.
"No man ever would be. They would haunt him, no matter how many times he made love to you."
"You bastard. You complete bastard. Come closer."
She put her head on my shoulder and we were very close now.
"I don't love you," she said.
"Why would you? But let's not be cynical about it. There are sublime moments—even if they are only moments." **
PINK NOT DEAD!
Latex on my tumblr
Legs on my tumblr
* Raymond Chandler
Trouble is My Business
** Raymond Chandler Playback
Suspense, October 1958