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BENJAMIN MORSE, IN HIS BOOK, THE SEXUALLY PROMISCUOUS MALE, STATES: “IN LINE, TO A degree, with the over emphasis on sex is the tendency to view sexual promiscuity as the mark of the well-rounded man, a component of sophistication and basic in the picture of a man who gets the most out of life. We tend to equate happiness and well-being for males with promiscuity.” Pete had three nymphos on the string, and considered himself a happy man…until he discovered each one had murder on her mind.
PETE DRAKE GOT UP FROM THE BED AND stretched his arms high above his head. He yawned and looked at the sleeping girl. Her breasts were exposed and alternately rose and fell as she breathed evenly. Yawning once again, he moved away from the bed, found his shorts and put them on. Then he went to the bathroom, washed, and rubbed the bristles of his beard, wishing he had a razor. That was the trouble with shacking up overnight with a broad in her apartment-women never had razors that were fit to be used on the face. He dried his skin and returned to the bedroom. The girl was sitting up and blinking her eyes. She made no move to cover her breasts from his frank gaze.
“Hi,” she said sleepily. “How’s your head?”
Pete grinned. “Okay, I don’t have much of a hangover. Not from drinking. I’m hung-up on sex, I suppose. How do you feel?”
She grimaced. “Have a lousy taste in my mouth and my head aches. Get me an aspirin, will you? Over there on the dresser.”
He got her two pills and a glass of water and watched her as she swallowed them. She was a pretty blonde, and her long hair, parted in the middle, hung down over her shoulders in an entrancing way. He hadn’t noticed particularly the night before, but her skin was tanned and inviting. He wondered if she felt up to having sex again.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.