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DON ZACHAR IA
flashing kind of thing, like showing pictures on a wall with a slide
projector. Do you remember that scene in
Carnal Knowledge
where Jack Nicholson flashes the slides of all the women he has
known? Well, it's not that kind of thing at all."
"Do you visualize her face? The way she looked at any par–
ticular time?"
"No, it's not like that at all. It's her ... I guess the only word
I can think of is her presence."
"Is that why
it
takes you so long to come, because you are
having nonverbal visual thoughts of J's presence at that time?"
"No. I've always been that way."
"Oh, groovy, baby."
"I can come whenever I want. I can come whenever I want. I
can come whenever I want. I can come whenever I want. I can
come whenever I want. I can come--"
"Bullshit, lover. I'll make you come whenever I want," she
says, swishing some beer through her teeth.
"Wanna bet a yard?"
"I ain't got a yard. My unemployment check is four-zero a
week and every now and then I snatch twenty from you. You put
up your little yard and if I can't make you come in a five-minute
period, I'll be your slave for the rest of the night."
"Crazy." I am nonplused. "Super crazy. Get me another
beer. "
"You can whip me, lover."
There is a tightening in my stomach, a tickling in my groin, a
dry
spot in my throat. A vague kind of feeling comes over me that
if I stood up I would like to be very close to a wall, a piece of
furniture, something solid and substantial that I could touch with
my hands and perhaps even lean against with my body. I cross my
legs, trying to hide my excitement. "How did you come up with
that?"
"You've made enough hints about that scene: all those play–
ful slaps on my ass that weren't so playful; all those jokes about
turning me over your knee and spanking me that weren't jokes.
If
I lose, if I can't make you come in a five-minute period, you can
tie me up if you want. Tie each one of my hands to one of the
bedposts and each leg to the bed frame, spread-eagled with some
