Lying on the bed, Andrews watched as Penny got up and walked naked across the small cabin. In the confined space, she looked truly larger than life. She was tall. She could not be called a small woman in any sense of the word, but there was not a pound that was not exactly where it should have been. She had the kind of hourglass figure that he had read about in novels. Wide eyes and a patrician nose gave her a face that while beautiful, would never be described as cute or even pretty. She was Junoesque, an image that was enhanced when the moonlight streaming into the window turned her pale skin the color of plaster. While her body had not a single tropical fish or other tattoo, it was adorned. Everywhere Piffy had a piercing, save her bellybutton, a bodily feature that her band mate did not share, Penny had two or more.
“This was a surprise to say the least,” said Andrews.
“A good one?”
“Yes. I didn’t know if you were interested?”
“Hopefully that question has been adequately answered. Just because I sing about women loving each other doesn’t mean I’m not interested in men… a man anyway.”
“You don’t prefer women?”
“Most women today have female lovers. They just pretend they don’t. That was the point of my song. But I’m reaching that age where family life starts to have more appeal. Besides, sex is like buying an automobile. If you want something really sporty, you have to be able to handle a stick.”
“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked.
“Very much. You are a talented lover.”
“I know I am. I’m always satisfied.”
She stepped back to the cot and gave him a deep kiss. He allowed his hands to run down the length of her soft, smooth body.
“Good night,” she said, starting for the door.
“Where are your clothes?”
“Didn’t bring any,” she smiled. Then she stepped naked into the brightly lit hall beyond and closed the door after her.