Jason Givens had been in adult entertainment since before I was born.

He grew up in New York with one ambition. Every Saturday, after the Sabbath ended, he went to the movies, and while his friends watched the show, Jason watched the actors. What they did with their faces in the half-second before they spoke it.

He did every play his high school put on and went to Columbia to study acting, then spent years driving a cab and auditioning between fares for parts that paid in free drinks.

In early 1967 his agent sent him to read for a sexploitation picture called Mini-Skirt Love. He got the lead and three hundred dollars, and what excited him more was his name at the top of the cast. He was a leading man, even if it wasn't the kind Columbia had in mind.

Here was the part that mattered. Twenty years later, Mini-Skirt Love was being remade, and the kid they hired to play Jason's role was me.

He loved acting and he loved sex, so an industry that wasn't uptight about either was a dream job. Over the next twenty years he watched it go from sexploitation to hardcore and never once stopped calling himself an actor.

Jason and I walked back to the hotel after dinner in Chinatown, the long way through North Beach, where he lived in the seventies. He pointed out a bar where he once got so drunk he forgot his address. Most of his stories were funny.

Then, on a side street off Columbus, he stopped talking.

He stopped walking, too.

We were in front of a four-story building with peeling cream paint, a black fire escape, and a green door painted over so many times it looked soft. Jason stared at a second-floor window for a long time.

"I used to live here," he finally said. "Right up there. With Serena."

Serena St. James. She and Jason had been the industry's golden couple for most of the seventies.

"Five years," he said. "She used to sit there every morning, drinking coffee and yelling at me to stop smoking inside."

I laughed, but Jason didn't. When he turned, there were tears on his face and he didn't wipe them.

"She wanted out," he said. "Wanted us to have a normal life. I kept telling her I wasn't ready to quit."

"What happened?" I asked.

"She got tired of waiting," he said.

He looked back up at the window.

"Funny thing is, I don't regret staying. I love it. Always have." He shrugged. "But I sure as hell regret losing her."

Here was a man who could tell the filthiest joke without cracking a smile, crying over a woman he lost years ago. I'd heard him talk about more women than I could remember. This was the first one he'd talked about like he wished she'd stayed.

"Come on, kid," he said, a hand on my shoulder. "Let's get moving."

He pointed out a building where he shot three pictures in the seventies. It was a bank now.

"We were filming near Fisherman's Wharf once and a cop stood there an hour without saying a word," Jason said. "Finally the director asked if there was a problem. The cop said, 'Only if you stop filming.'"

I laughed. Then something over my shoulder caught his attention and his face changed and I wondered if he'd forgotten Serena.

I turned around.

Forty feet away, two girls sat at a bus stop with their heads together. The shorter one had her hand cupped around her mouth, whispering. Both of them glanced at me. When I looked back, they turned away at the same time.

Which was usually a good sign.

"Don't turn around," Jason whispered.

"I already turned around," I said.

"When's the last time a girl looked at you and wasn't on the clock?" Jason asked.

"This morning," I said.

"Where?" Jason asked.

"On the plane," I said.

Jason looked at me like I'd just ruined his favorite joke.

The taller one was five-eight and wasn't comfortable with it. She was all arms and legs and didn't know what to do with either. Her hair was the loudest thing on the block: thick, honey-colored, curling in the fog like she'd given up on it at noon. She was in a black ribbed tank top with white trim and READY ROCK across the chest. No jacket, in October. She held a canvas bag against her stomach, like a shield.

The other one was barely five feet. Blue plaid pinafore over a white collared shirt, white tights, black shoes, pink backpack, hair braided like a crown. Freckles across the nose. A yellow wristband that was out of place. Her arms were folded and she was studying us the way you look at a dog you hadn't decided about.

"Okay," Jason said, nudging me. "They're both eye-fucking you. Let's take advantage."

He started toward them and I grabbed his arm.

"You can't just walk over there," I said. "They're looking at me, not you. If you go first, they'll ignore you and me."

"Tommy, I've been picking up women since before you were born," Jason said.

"And now you're old enough to be their father."

"Your point?" Jason asked.

"You'd look like a dirty old man," I said.

"I am a dirty old man," he proudly replied.

It was hard to win an argument with someone who took your biggest insult as a compliment. He stepped aside and gestured at the bus stop.

"Go ahead, Romeo," Jason said.

I headed toward them. Jason hung back.

The taller one tightened her grip on her canvas bag. Her companion unfolded her arms and gave me a look that said I had ten seconds to prove I wasn't an asshole.

I sat down on the bench.

"Hi," I said.

That set off giggling, then the taller one leaned forward.

"Hi. I'm Jan," she said.

The shorter one stuck out her hand.

"Marcia," she said.

I looked from one to the other.

"Jan and Marcia? What happened to Cindy? Did you leave her home with Alice?" I asked.

They both started giggling. Jan covered her mouth. Marcia didn't bother.

"Never heard that one before," Marcia said, rolling her eyes.

I took the hand still out, then, for reasons I couldn't explain, leaned forward and kissed it.

She looked at her hand when I let go, then at me, taking her time.

"Huh," she finally said. "Nobody's done that before."

"Are you sisters?" I asked.

"Step-sisters," Jan said.

"Please tell me you have a brother named Greg?" I asked.

They giggled, and Marcia said, "My big brother's name is Craig."

Jan looked me straight in the eyes.

"How do we know you?" Jan asked.

"Where do you go to school?" I asked.

They went quiet, then Marcia said, "Berkeley," unconvincingly.

"Yeah," Jan said. "We must've seen you on campus."

"Nope," I said. "I'm up here visiting from Los Angeles."

Jason crossed the road and sat next to me. Jan didn't look away.

"Are you up here visiting your dad?" she asked, pointing at him.

"I'm not his father," Jason said. "I'm just playing his dad in the movie we're shooting."

Jan's face changed. She looked at Jason, then back at me, and it landed.

"You're an actor," she said. "We must've seen you in a movie."

Jason glanced at me. He'd told two strangers I was in movies and he didn't know whether that was a mistake.

"What movies have you made?" Marcia asked.

"Dirty ones," I replied. "Ones where I fuck women."

Jan looked me up and down. "You're that guy with a gigantic penis," she said. "You were in that movie we borrowed from her brother's room."

"You told me that was special effects," Marcia said, staring at my belt.

There was nothing to say to that.

"How old were you when you started?" Jan asked.

"Eighteen," I replied.

"How old are you now?" Marcia asked.

"Eighteen," I said, for the second time in four seconds. "How old are you two?"

"Eighteen," they said in unison.

Jason didn't say anything. He looked at them, then at me, and took his time about it.

"Can we see it?" Jan asked.

"Your cock," Marcia said, pouting. "I want to see if it's real."

"He can't whip it out," Jason said.

"Why not?" Marcia whined.

"Because we're on a public street and there are laws about that," Jason said. "Laws that could get young Tommy thrown in jail. You don't want to see him in jail, do you?"

"No," Jan said.

"No," Marcia repeated.

"However, young ladies, I have an idea," Jason said. "We go back to my hotel room, where Tommy will be happy to show you his third leg."

Marcia looked nervous.

"We can't, we have to be back ho..." Marcia said.

"We have to get back to Berkeley by ten," Jan said. "To study."

"Nonsense," Jason said. "You've got the rest of your life to study. You've got about four hours to do something different."

Marcia opened her mouth. Jason didn't let her.

"Besides," he said, "the view from my suite is better than anything you'll see from that campus."

"What hotel?" Marcia asked.

"The Fairmont. Up on Nob Hill. We're staying there." He tipped his head at me. "You should see the lobby."

Marcia folded her arms again.

"How far is it?" Marcia asked.

"Ten minutes," Jason said.

"Ten minutes walking?" Marcia asked.

"Ten minutes in a cab," Jason said. "I'll pay for the cab."

Jan was already sold and it showed. Marcia was the problem, and she knew it, and she was enjoying it a little. She looked at the street, then at the bus schedule, then at me.

"Come hang out," Jason said. "If you're not having fun, I'll put you in a cab home and pay for that too."

Marcia looked at Jan, who was already standing up. Then at me. Something in her face said she'd decided a minute ago and was only now letting anybody know.

"Okay," Marcia said.

Jason was already at the curb, arm up.

"They're not eighteen," Jason said, quietly, out of the side of his mouth.

The suite was two floors above mine. The girls walked in ahead of us and stopped like they were afraid to touch anything.

Jan set her canvas bag down on a chair and picked it up. Marcia shrugged out of her backpack, left it at the side of the couch, and went to the window.

The room looked lived in, which mine didn't. A script on the desk. Three cigarette butts in the ashtray. A Mickey Spillane paperback by the phone that Jason could probably recite.

Jan was still clutching her bag. She shifted her weight, glanced at Marcia, who didn't turn, then turned to me.

"Well?" Jan asked. "Do we have to ask?"

Marcia said nothing. It was the first thing all night she hadn't had an opinion about.

"Good things come to those who wait," Jason said. "Why don't the three of you sit on the couch and get to know each other?"

I plopped down in the middle and Jan took the seat to my right. Marcia stayed at the window, looking from us to the bay and back. Jan waved her over, patted the empty cushion, started making faces.

Marcia hesitated, then crossed the room and sat on my left.

Getting Marcia to like me was going to take more than kissing her hand.

"What are you girls studying at Berkeley?" I asked.

Neither said anything. They exchanged a nervous glance, each hoping the other had thought ahead to have an answer.

Neither had.

"Undecided," Jan finally said.

"Journalism," Marcia added.

I nodded as though that settled it, pretending I hadn't watched two girls struggle with a question about their own imaginary lives.

Jason didn't pretend anything. He was watching them like a man enjoying a show.

"So you want to be a journalist," I said. "You like to write?"

She smiled.

"Do you want to hear one of my poems?" Marcia asked.

"You take poems everywhere you go?" I asked.

"I take my notebook everywhere I go," Marcia replied.

Jan made a noise that sounded like a warning.

Marcia ignored her, pulled a notebook from her backpack, and flipped through pages. Jan buried her face in her hands.

"Do I need to hear this?" I asked.

"No," Jan said.

"Yes," Marcia replied.

She cleared her throat and read.

I wonder what a first kiss feels like,
if my heart will race or time stand still.
I wonder if he'll be as nervous as I am,
and if he'll want to kiss me again.

When she finished, she looked up.

For once I couldn't think of anything clever to say.

"That was actually pretty good," I said.

"Just actually?" Marcia asked.

"I mean really good," I said.

"Bravo," Jason said, applauding. "When did you write that masterpiece?"

"Yester..." Marcia caught herself. "I mean, a few years ago."

Jan closed her eyes and shook her head.

"So do you two have boyfriends?" I asked.

They giggled, then said "Yes" together.

"What are their names?" Jason asked.

Another glance passed between them. The Jeopardy! music started up in my head.

"Collin," Jan finally said.

"Todd," Marcia added.

"And what do you do with these lucky gentlemen?" I asked.

"Everything!" Jan announced.

"Like what?" Jason asked.

"We have sex," Marcia said proudly.

"And blowjobs," Jan added.

Marcia turned, horrified. Jason pressed his lips together and lost ground.

"What does a cock feel like?" Jason asked.

Both girls went pale. They stared at each other, mouthing words, hoping the other knew. Neither did.

"It's hard," Jan said.

That did it. Jason burst out laughing. Then I noticed Marcia: cheeks bright red, eyes filling. She was the one who'd been telling us everything all night.

"Come on, give them a break," I said.

I turned back to Marcia and kissed her cheek.

"Everybody starts somewhere," I said.

She managed a smile.

"Even you?" Marcia asked.

"Believe it or not, I wasn't born knowing what I was doing," I said.

"Could've fooled me," Jason muttered.

I looked at both girls.

"So what have you actually done with boys?" I asked.

Jan glanced at Marcia.

"I kissed a boy once," Jan said.

Marcia looked down at her hands.

"I've never been kissed," she said quietly.

I turned toward her.

"May I?" I asked.

Her face brightened.

"Yes, please," Marcia said.

I slipped an arm around her waist and leaned in. She closed her eyes before our lips touched and stayed that way, waiting, which was somehow worse than if she'd done something.

I started light. Just contact, no pressure. She held still under it like she was afraid of getting it wrong. Her hands were flat on my chest and she was trembling.

Then she tipped her head, and it changed. She pushed back into it. Her mouth opened under mine and she made a surprised sound, and her hands slid up to my collar and held on.

I slowed down so she could catch up. She followed me. Then her arms came up around my neck and she was the one pulling, and I let her.

When we pulled apart, she kept her eyes closed another second. Her mouth was still open. Her face was pink to the hairline.

She touched her bottom lip, like she was checking it was still there.

"Well?" I asked.

"It's wetter than I expected," Marcia said.

"Than you expected?" I asked.

"I've thought about it a lot," she said, and went redder.

"A lot," Jan said from the other end of the couch. "She keeps a notebook."

"It's not a notebook," Marcia said.

"It's a notebook," Jan said. "There's a page about you."

Marcia covered her face with one hand.

I laughed. She laughed too, through her fingers, and I pulled her hand down and kissed her forehead.

"I think I understand what all the fuss is about," Marcia said.

When I looked over at Jan, she was watching us like she'd been waiting long enough.

Jason got out of the chair and crossed to the couch.

"How about giving an old man a kiss?" he asked, grinning.

"But you're old enough to be my dad," Marcia said.

"Exactly," Jason said. "Which means I've had a lot more practice than boys your age."

She leaned in and pecked him. Quick, closed mouth, already pulling back.

Jason didn't let her. He got a hand on her jaw and kissed her again, slower than I did, and this time she had to stay for it.

Her free hand found his shirt and gripped it. Halfway through she made a noise and her heels lifted off the floor, and he took his time, and she stopped fighting it.

When he let her up, she was breathing through her mouth.

Jan had decided she'd finished waiting. She took my face in both hands and kissed me, more enthusiasm than coordination. She bumped my nose hard enough to sting.

"How was that?" Jan asked, grinning.

"You almost broke my nose," I said.

"Sorry," Jan said.

"Do it again," I said.

She did.

Jason had a hand on the back of Marcia's neck, and she wasn't uncertain anymore. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted and she was waiting for the next one.

Several more minutes of it and Jan came up for air.

"Can we please see your cock?" Jan asked.

"On one condition," I said. "No more lying."

"Fine," Jan said. "No more lying."

"Promise?" I asked.

"I promise," Jan said.

Marcia leaned over and got between us.

"You know what's better than a promise?" Marcia asked.

"A pinky swear," she said, before I could answer, and held out her pinky.

I hooked mine around it.

"You're interrupting a perfectly good kiss for a pinky swear?" Jason asked.

"Those are the rules," Marcia said.

"Forgive me," Jason said. "I didn't realize we were conducting official business."

"Say the whole thing," Marcia said to me.

"No more lying," I said.

"Now swear it," Marcia said.

"I pinky swear," I said.

Satisfied, she let go. But she didn't turn back to Jason. She sat up straight, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at my belt.

Jan was already looking at my belt.

"Don't mind me," Jason said.

"Any day now," Jan said.

I smiled, and I took my time about it.

"Before I show you anything, I need you both to tell me how old you are," I said.

Jan looked at the floor. Her breathing changed: in through the nose, slow out, the way you do before a dive.

"Seventeen," Jan said.

Jason didn't say anything. That was worse than if he had.

I turned to Marcia. Her hands were still folded from the pinky swear and she was studying them like there was going to be a test. She got as far as my chin and stopped.

"Sixteen," Marcia said. "But I turn seventeen next month."

"Look at me," I said.

It took her a second.

"November twenty-second," Marcia said, before I could ask.

She stayed braced, waiting for the reaction.

A year. That was all it was, a year between the oldest of us and the youngest, and I'd have walked past both of them in a hallway, a senior and two juniors, and nobody would have called it anything.

Nothing came from Jason. He looked at the ceiling, then at her, then at me, and shrugged like she'd told him the weather.

"Sixteen," he said. Then he looked at my belt. "Are you going to make them wait for her birthday?"

I stood up. I was already hard, and it had been a long time since I'd popped anybody's cherry.

The last one was Leslie Heart, sixteen, a friend of my sister's. For weeks she begged to see my cock. I refused. One day in late April I came home from school and found her naked in my bed. I gave her a memorable afternoon.

Now I wanted to do the same to Marcia. Jan was beautiful too, but something about her redheaded stepsister had had me since the bus stop. She looked innocent, and I could tell she'd be greedy the second I touched her.

I looked into her eyes as I pulled my shirt off and threw it on the floor. Jan's eyes went to the bruise on my ribs before they went anywhere else.

I got my belt open and pulled it through the loops, slow, and let it drop.

"Take your time," Jason said. "Nobody's in a hurry."

The zipper came down a tooth at a time and they both leaned in like it was a card trick. I pushed my jeans over my hips and my cock swung out.

Jan's mouth opened and stayed open. Marcia had both hands over hers, and her eyes had gone round.

Nobody said anything for three seconds.

"Okay," Jan said, finally. "So it's not special effects."

"It's not special effects," Marcia said, from behind her hands.

"It's a foot," Jan said.

"Thirteen and a half inches," I said.

Jan repeated it, like she was telling somebody who wouldn't believe her. Then she got her hand close without touching it.

"And thick," Jan said. "It's as thick as my wrist."

I stepped in and laid it along her forearm and held it there.

"It's thicker," I said.

Jan looked down at it on her arm and said nothing.

I sat back down between them and put their near hands on it.

Their fingers didn't meet.

They held still, and their hands were cold, and the cold was worse than the grip. Then Jan started to move, and Marcia followed two strokes behind and then went her own way, slower, lighter, tracing.

She didn't look up. She was watching her fingers, following a vein from the base to the head like she was reading it, and every time she reached the head it jumped in her hand.

Marcia's head came up at that. She was watching my face now instead of her hands.

"Harder than that," I said, and my voice wasn't under control.

Jan did it. My hips came up off the cushion and my jaw went tight.

Marcia saw it. She studied all of it (my hands, my throat, the way my stomach moved), and when she found a spot under the head that made me twitch she did it again, and again, and watched me.

Jason realized he wasn't the main character in this story. If you asked him, he'd tell you he was lucky to be a supporting one. So he got up and started on his shirt buttons.

Jan had both hands on it now, stacked one over the other, and she wasn't careful. I stopped breathing and had to remember to start again.

Jason dropped his shirt over the back of the couch. Belt, pants, shorts, and then he was standing there naked, and none of it mattered, because neither girl turned her head.

He leaned over the back of the couch between us and swung his hips so it flapped against our faces.

Nothing.

"Oh, come on," Jason said.

Jan glanced over. So did Marcia. Then they looked at each other.

"It's nice," Jan said, diplomatically.

"It's fine," Marcia said.

"It's fine," Jason said. "You know what average is? Five and a half inches. I'm seven and a half, and I know what to do with it."

"Seven and a half," Jan said.

"Seven and a half," Jason said, with some dignity.

Marcia hadn't looked away from mine. "That's still half of him," Marcia said.

Jason looked at her. Then at me. Then down at his own. He didn't have anything for that.

Marcia's hand hadn't stopped. Jan's had slowed to almost nothing, and I could feel the difference. They were breathing through their mouths. Marcia's thighs had come together.

She was hornier than she'd ever been, and she didn't know what to do with it.

I got a hand under the hem of her pinafore.

She gasped and pulled both hands off my cock and grabbed my wrist, not to stop me, just to hold something.

On Jan's far side, Jason put a hand on her knee and slid it up her thigh. Jan had one hand on me and the other down her jeans, and she didn't take either away when he pulled her tank top out of the waistband.

Marcia was soaked through. The cotton had gone slick, and when my fingers dragged over it she bore down into my hand.

I pulled her underwear to one side.

"Look at that," I said.

She was red and swollen and shining, and watching my hand.

I slapped her cunt, light, just enough to make a sound, and her whole body jerked and her head went back and she moaned like it got dragged out of her.

I did it again and she was louder.

Then I pushed a finger in.

She was so tight it took a second and so wet it took no time at all. She clenched down around it, her hips came up off the cushion, and then she came, her heels skidding on the leather, her mouth wide open and nothing coming out of it.

When it let go of her, she was gasping.

I pulled the finger out and held it up in front of her face.

"Taste it," I said.

She got her mouth around it without opening her eyes.

"Delicious," she said.

Jason had Jan's tank top up under her arms. She got them out of it and it went over the back of the couch. No bra. Her breasts came out full and heavy and swung when she moved, and Jason looked at them before he looked at her face.

Jan reached for his cock and stroked it, slow, watching him.

He let her have four strokes. Then he put a hand flat on her chest and shoved her back onto the cushions.

Jan yelped, then laughed, and the laugh was still going when he got her jeans open and dragged them down, and she kicked her high-tops off after them.

He hooked her underwear down and dropped on her.

She had a full dark-blonde bush, dense and a little wild, and he didn't look at it. He put his mouth on it.

The only thing she was still wearing was the cheap black watch.

Jan's laugh cut off in the middle. She jolted like she'd been shocked, her hand came down on the back of his head and pulled, and her legs tried to close on him, and he shoved them wide and didn't come up.

"Jesus," Jan said. "Jesus Christ."

He was noisy about it, all tongue and no plan, and she'd never had it done before and it showed: every pass of his tongue got a new noise, and she didn't know what to do with her hands, and she kept saying his name and then swearing and then his name again.

Marcia had been watching them with my finger still in her mouth.

I took it back and stood her up.

There was no fight left in her. She let me get the pinafore off without covering anything.

The blouse went. The bra went.

Her breasts were small and pale and covered in freckles, the tips a hard pink, and her shoulders were hunched like she was bracing.

I got my mouth on one and she made a sound like she'd been hit. Her hand came up into my hair. She went up on her toes.

I did the other and she held me there, and by the time I was finished her head was back and she was breathing through her mouth and she'd stopped being embarrassed.

I got her shoes off, then the tights, one leg at a time, then her underwear.

The hair was red and thick and didn't stop: up over her belly, down the inside of her thighs, more than I expected on a girl that small. She went red and put her hand over it.

"It's good," I said, and moved the hand.

"It's a lot," Marcia said.

"It's good," I said again, and put her down on the couch.

She went back, one arm over her eyes, and her knees came up and apart before I asked.

I dragged her to the edge of the cushion and put my mouth on her.

She'd come once already and she was so sensitive the first touch made her flinch. Then she pushed down into it anyway.

She tasted sharp, a little metallic, and it was smeared through the hair, and I got it on my chin and didn't care. I went flat and slow, just dragging, and her heels drummed on the cushion.

Then I pointed my tongue and found her clit.

Her hips came off the couch. The arm came off her eyes.

"Don't stop," Marcia said. "Please don't stop."

Her chin was down on her chest and she was watching my mouth work, and every time I got it right her stomach jumped.

I got two fingers in her and curled them and she went quiet, and then she shook.

Her thighs clamped onto my ears. Both her hands were in my hair and she wasn't careful.

"Wait," Marcia said. "Wait, wait..."

I didn't wait.

She came hard and all over my face, and it didn't stop me. I kept licking her clit and pushed a finger into her and she came harder still.

She was up on her elbows with her mouth open and nothing coming out of it. Her thighs were shaking against my ears.

I looked up over her belly.

Jason had Jan's leg hooked over the back of the couch with his face buried in her, and she'd already come too: flat on her back, one arm over the side of the couch, the other in his hair, making one long unbroken noise.

Then she lifted her head and looked down the couch at me.

It wasn't a quick look. She watched my mouth work on Marcia, and her hips jumped under Jason's tongue, and she kept watching anyway.

I eased off and stood up.

She stayed where she was, blinking at the ceiling.

"On your knees," I said.

She slid off the cushion and got on her knees and opened her mouth before I'd got my cock out to her, which was the most eager she'd been all night.

She had to stretch her jaw to get the head in and she had no idea what she was doing. She started with her tongue like it was a lollipop: quick little licks all over the head, then along the shaft, then back up, so light it was almost tickling. Her eyes were shut and her brow was furrowed like she was working out a puzzle.

She got her lips around the head and her mouth wasn't big enough to do anything with it. Her cheeks hollowed, then she remembered to breathe and her lips went slack and it slid out with a wet pop.

She looked up at me to see how she did.

"More tongue," I said.

She went back down. One hand wrapped around what was left, which was most of it, watching my cock go in and out of her mouth like it belonged to somebody else. Her jaw was already aching and she'd only got the first four inches.

She tried for more and it bumped the back of her throat and she gagged and came off coughing, wiped her mouth, and went straight back in.

She had no rhythm. Fast when she should have gone slow, then stopped dead to breathe. Kept her hand still and forgot to move it. Twice she caught me with her teeth and winced, waiting for me to say something.

It was a mess. She was drooling down her chin and there was spit all over her knuckles and her shoulders were up around her ears.

When she came up for air, she was watching me, checking, learning.

Jan's head came up off the cushion. She'd been listening to Marcia choke on it and she'd had enough.

"Jason. Let me up," Jan said.

"Not yet," Jason said.

"I want a turn with that," Jan said, and nodded at my cock.

Jason put two fingers in her to keep her there.

She held out ten seconds before she shoved his head away and came down the couch and knelt beside Marcia.

She didn't touch me at first. She watched the teeth, the gag, the hand that never moved, then put a hand on Marcia's shoulder.

"Let me," Jan said.

Jan didn't wait for an answer. She pushed, and Marcia rocked back onto her heels and let her; Jan was the older one, and Marcia had done what Jan told her since the bus stop.

Jan got her lips over her teeth and took my shaft in one steady slide and didn't stop until her nose was against my stomach. Six inches on the first go, more than Marcia had managed all night, and she held it, breathing through her nose, and didn't gag.

Then she came back up slow, tongue flat along the underside, eyes watering, and she didn't care.

Jason sat back against the arm of the couch and got his dick in his hand.

"Both of you," Jason said. "Lips over your teeth or he'll feel it."

Nobody answered him. Jan went again before he'd finished, and this time her hand moved with her mouth.

Marcia crowded back in and tried to copy it (tongue flat, hand moving), and it was better than she was doing, and she kept flicking her eyes sideways to Jan's mouth.

It was the sloppiest, least coordinated blowjob I'd ever had, and I didn't want either of them to stop.

Marcia had gone red from the effort and there was a line of spit hanging off her chin. I got my hand in her hair and took some of the weight off her, and she hummed around it, and the hum went up through me.

Jan decided to take it as deep as Marcia did. She went down and got most of the way and gagged, and instead of coming off she stayed there and gagged again, then pulled off with a gasp and a laugh.

"Okay," Jan said. "That's harder than it looks."

"Everything's harder than it looks," Jason said.

Jan wiped her mouth on her wrist and looked at Marcia, then went back down further than she'd managed the first time, because Marcia got there and Jan wasn't going to be beaten by her stepsister on a hotel floor.

They worked at it together for a while, one on the shaft, one at the head, trading places without being told, and it was wet and clumsy and neither of them was any good.

Jason watched. Then he sat forward.

"Both of you, one on each side," Jason said. "From the back to the tip, like a harmonica. Then kiss each other and start over."

"A harmonica?" Jan asked.

"Just do it," Jason said.

They got on either side and put their mouths on the shaft, and it was ridiculous: two tongues working up the same length, both trying not to laugh, and Marcia's nose knocked into Jan's halfway up.

They reached the head and stopped and looked at each other.

Then they kissed.

It was fast and clumsy and they both giggled into it, and Jan pulled back and wiped her mouth.

"Again," Jason said.

They went back down. Slower.

The kiss at the top lasted longer, and there was less laughing, and Jan's hand came up and held the back of Marcia's head.

"Again," Jason said.

The third one wasn't funny at all.

They came up together and their mouths met over the head and stayed, and it went on long enough that they forgot the cock between them: Jan's tongue in Marcia's mouth, Marcia's hand on Jan's jaw, my dick standing in the gap between their chins with nobody touching it.

"It's still there," Jason said.

Nobody paid him any attention.

So he got up and came over and put his dick against Marcia's cheek.

It was warm and wet with her spit and it took her a second to work out what it was. She made a noise and turned her head away and went back to Jan's mouth.

"Come on," Jason said.

She pulled off, mouth open to complain, then she looked at Jan.

Jan was grinning, and she had my cock in her hand already, and she tipped her chin at Marcia like, go on then.

Marcia went.

She was better at it than she had been, but it was still not good, and Jason didn't care. He had both hands in her hair and his head back, making a sound like he'd been holding his breath for an hour.

"Swap," I said.

Jan pulled off and looked up at me.

"Swap," I said again.

They swapped. Marcia got me and Jan got Jason, and it took both of them a second to find a rhythm, and Jan laughed with her mouth full and had to start over.

"Every couple of minutes," I said. "Keep moving."

Third time round, Marcia didn't wait for the word. She slid across and took me before Jan was off, and Jan had to make room, and Jason was left holding his dick.

"Marcia," Jason said.

Nothing. Her eyes were shut and she was going at it like it was the last one she'd ever get.

Jan looked at Jason and shrugged, and went to him instead.

"Let her be," I said.

Jason looked at me.

"She's fine where she is," I said. "Aren't you."

Marcia nodded without opening her eyes and didn't come off.

After that it wasn't a relay. Jan kept the rotation up on her own and Marcia stayed where she was, and by the fifth time she'd stopped looking up at all, and she had both hands on my hips and she was taking more than she did before, and she didn't know she was doing it.

I got her up off the floor and into my arms and kissed her.

There was spit cooling on her chin and her jaw was tired and she had no finesse left, but she was eager: both hands in my hair, little sounds into my mouth.

Behind me on the couch, Jason had Jan kneeling between his knees. Neither of them was watching.

Then I broke off and lifted her higher.

She worked out what I wanted and swung her legs over my shoulders and crossed her ankles behind my head. She weighed nothing.

I put both hands under her ass and put my face in her cunt.

She was so wet my chin was slick before my tongue was even in her. I got it up inside her and she ground down onto my mouth.

"Tommy," she said. "Oh God, Tommy..."

I stayed with it. Her thighs came in on my ears and locked, and she came with her back bent and her fingers knotted in my hair, saying my name over and over like she'd lost it.

Then I lowered her and carried her through into the bedroom.

She had her legs around me and her face in my neck, breathing in gulps.

I laid her on the bed. She was limp and flushed and she'd had three already, and she looked like she'd been in the water too long.

"Are you ready to lose your virginity?" I asked.

Her eyes were huge.

"Yes," she said. Her voice was thin.

"Jason. Bring her," I said.

Marcia's hand came up and closed around my wrist.

Jan came in behind us and got on the bed beside her.

"Here," I said, and put Marcia's hand into Jan's. Jan closed both of hers around it and squeezed too hard.

"Okay," Jan said. "Look at me. Don't look at him."

Jason followed and got in behind Jan and put his face between her legs, and Jan's forehead came down onto Marcia's shoulder.

I got my knees between Marcia's and pushed them apart and got the head against her. She was wet enough that it slid.

I pushed. Just the head.

Her whole body locked and she crushed Jan's hand.

"Breathe," Jan said. "Breathe."

"Jesus, look at that," Jason said, muffled.

"Does it hurt?" Jan asked.

"A little," Marcia said.

"Barely," Jan said.

I went an inch at a time. I watched her pussy stretch around it: the lips pulled tight and going pale, the wet pushed out of her and running over my knuckles. Every inch got a sound out of her, each higher and thinner than the last.

Then it caught, and something gave way, and the resistance was gone.

"That's it," I said. "That's it. You're not a virgin anymore."

Marcia laughed, one cracked, wild laugh, and then it turned into a sob.

"Congratulations," Jason said.

At two inches she came. It rolled up through her and she clenched down and it was all I could do to hold still.

"Two," Jan said. "I could do two."

At three she came again.

"Three. Big deal," Jan said.

At four she was crying, real tears, running sideways into the pillow, and she wasn't letting go of Jan's hand.

"Four and she's crying. Four," Jan said.

"That's the good crying," Jason said.

I got to six and stopped and let her have it.

Jan didn't say anything.

When I looked at her face, something had gone out of it. The fear was gone. Her eyes were dark and flat and hungry and she wasn't blinking.

"Move," Marcia said.

Her voice wasn't thin anymore.

"See," Jan said. "She's fine."

I pulled back and gave it to her and she took it. She was still holding Jan's hand but she wasn't squeezing, and her mouth was open and every push dragged a sound out of her that wasn't quite a word.

Marcia's eyes rolled back and came back. She found me and stayed on me.

"Harder," Marcia said.

I gave it to her harder. She had a rhythm now, pushing up to meet me.

Jason pulled his face out of Jan and came up on his knees and got himself against her from behind.

Jan's breath caught. He pushed, and she said "oh." Then her hand shot back and caught his hip.

"Wait. Wait, wait," Jan said.

"What?" Jason asked.

She wasn't looking at him. She was looking at me, past Marcia's shoulder, lip caught between her teeth.

"That's enough," Jan said. "I want him."

Marcia heard it. Her free hand came up and found my forearm and squeezed.

"Do it," Marcia said. "I've had a turn."

"Yeah," Jan said. "You've had one."

I got my hand under her and gave her everything, and she started to shake, and then she squirted, a hot gush over my wrist and her stomach, and she shouted and her heels slid up the sheet.

"HA!" Jan said. "Look at her..."

"Jesus Christ," Jason said.

Marcia had gone limp. She got one hand back on Jan's, patted it twice, and turned her face toward me.

"I'm all right," she said, still gasping. "I'm done. Go on, go on, go."

I pulled out of her and she folded up on her side.

I got on my back and pulled Jan over on top of me.

She came too fast and her knee banged mine and she got her hand around my cock and held it against her like it was going to get away.

"Look at me," I said.

She did. She wasn't grinning anymore.

"Go slow," I said.

She sank down onto it.

Her mouth opened and nothing came out of it, and then a high thin sound did, and she stopped at about three inches and sat there rigid with her eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, it's... oh."

"Breathe," I said.

"I am breathing," Jan said.

She wasn't. Her chin was up and her shoulders were around her ears and she was so tight it was a fist.

"Two virgins," Jason said, from the other end of the bed. "Two of them, and I don't get either one."

"Poor you," Jan said, through her teeth.

It was the thing that got under him. He was old enough to be their father and he'd been calling himself an old man all night, like saying it first made it not count.

She took another inch and her breath came in through her teeth. She wasn't crying yet, she was furious.

"Keep going," Jan said.

I didn't. She did it herself, a quarter inch at a time, and got to four, and then her face screwed up and the tears came all at once, not one line down each cheek like Marcia, all of it, and she was swearing while she cried.

"God, God, it's so much..." Jan said.

"You want to stop?" I asked.

"Don't ask me. Just..." Jan said.

And she went down another inch on her own.

"That's it," I said. "That's good."

"Don't be nice to me. I'll fall apart..." Jan said.

Jason got Marcia turned over onto her hands and knees and pushed into her in one go, and Marcia's arms gave out and she went down onto her face with a sound like she'd been dropped.

"Too much?" Jason asked.

"No," Marcia said, into the sheet. "No, don't stop."

Jan was watching them. Then she looked down at me and her jaw set.

She started to move. Clumsy at first, short strokes, and then something clicked and she was going the whole length of it, up and down, her tits bouncing, hands braced on my chest.

"Christ," she said. "Christ, that's..."

She didn't finish.

Behind Jan, Jason pulled out of Marcia and jerked himself over her and came on her ass, three or four ropes across her lower back, and Marcia flinched at the first one and then held still for the rest.

Jason sat back on his heels, spent.

"Jan. Clean her up," I said.

Jan looked down the bed. Then she got off me and went down on her hands and knees and put her tongue flat on Marcia's ass and licked it up.

Marcia made a startled sound into the sheet.

Jan did it again, slower, all the way to the small of her back and then down, and Marcia's legs were trembling.

"Up. Both of you. Jan on your back against the headboard," I said.

Jan went and sat with her back to it, knees up and apart, watching Marcia the whole way.

"Eat her," I said.

Marcia's face did something complicated. She'd never done this and it showed: she leaned in and stopped, then looked up at Jan.

"It's okay," Jan said. "Just go."

Marcia went.

She was bad at it. Too careful, too much lip, no pressure, and Jan had her head back against the wood and one hand in Marcia's hair, guiding her, saying "there, right there, don't move."

I got behind Marcia and pushed into her in one go.

Her back arched and she went down onto her elbows with her mouth still on Jan.

"Oh God," Marcia said, muffled.

Jan had both hands in her hair now. Her hips were working up off the mattress and she'd stopped being polite about it, and she was saying Marcia's name and then swearing and then Marcia's name again.

"Don't stop. Don't you dare stop..." Jan said.

She came. Her back came off the headboard and she shouted, and her thighs clamped onto Marcia's ears and held her there until it was over.

Marcia pulled back with her mouth wet and her chin shining, wiped it on her wrist, and looked up at Jan, then over her shoulder at me.

She was proud of herself. She was grinning like she'd won something.

"I did it," Marcia said.

"You did it," Jan said, still breathless. "Get up here."

She got a fist in Marcia's hair and hauled her up the bed and kissed her, and Marcia made a surprised noise into it, and I stayed in her the whole time and didn't let up.

Marcia had nowhere to go. She was up on her hands with her mouth on Jan's and I was behind her, and every push shoved her forward into Jan's face. Jan got a hand on the back of her neck and held her there so she couldn't get away from either of us.

Marcia came first. She shook apart between the two of them and it was muffled into Jan's mouth, and Jan didn't let her up until she'd finished.

I got there about four pushes later and held her hips still and emptied into her, and she was still twitching around me while I did it.

Jan flopped back against the headboard. Marcia went down flat on her stomach with her cheek on the sheet and didn't move.

Jason was sitting on the edge of the bed with his dick in his hand, working at it. It wasn't cooperating.

"Give it a minute," he said, to himself.

I sat back against the headboard and they both came to me.

Marcia got under my left arm and Jan under my right. I kissed Marcia, then Jan, then turned Marcia's chin and pushed her mouth onto Jan's.

They didn't need warming up to it anymore. Jan's hand was in Marcia's hair before their mouths landed, and Marcia went up on one elbow, and it wasn't careful: it was the fourth or fifth time tonight and they'd stopped being polite about it.

I watched them over the top of it. Nobody was touching my cock, it was standing up against my stomach, and neither of them was in any hurry to fix that.

Jan pushed Marcia down and rode me first, hard and fast, one hand flat on my chest, the other braced on the headboard. She had more than she had ten minutes ago and she was using all of it.

When she'd had enough, she shoved Marcia over and Marcia took her place, and she was better at it than she was an hour ago, and Jan got behind her with both hands on her tits and her mouth on her neck.

Jason got himself up eventually and pulled Jan off me by the hip and turned her onto her hands and knees, and Jan was still reaching back for me.

I pulled Marcia against my side and she put her head on my shoulder.

"I wanted to fuck you the second I saw you. At the bus stop, before either of you said a word," I said.

She was quiet for a second.

"I saw your movie last month," Marcia said. "I've thought about it every night since."

"You never said," I said.

"I wasn't going to say," Marcia said.

I turned her face up and she looked at me, and she had that flat hungry look she had at six inches, and it was the first time it had been pointed at me instead of at what I was doing to her.

"Don't make it mean anything," Marcia said.

"Too late," I said.

Then it went on, and it stopped being separate things.

Jan ended up on her back with her legs over Jason's shoulders and Marcia straddling her face, and Jan was saying something over and over that wasn't a word, and every time Jason drove into her she went up the mattress a little.

Marcia on her side after that, top leg pulled up and held there, and me behind her; the angle was different and deeper, and she grabbed the sheet and held on, and it was the first time all night she'd made a sound like she was in trouble.

Jan bent over the end of the bed with Jason standing behind her, forehead on the mattress, pushing back to meet him, and the headboard was knocking the wall.

Marcia against it last, her back on the wood and her legs locked around my waist, her mouth open against my jaw and my name every time.

Nobody was talking much by then. Just noise.

We finished with both of them on their backs side by side, Jason over Jan and me over Marcia, and we got there at nearly the same time and pulled out and came on them: across their stomachs and their tits, Marcia with her eyes shut and her mouth open, Jan laughing and then not laughing.

Jason was done and sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. I was on my knees. The room smelled like the two of them and neither of them was moving.

"Clean each other up," I said.

Marcia started on Jan because she was closer, and she was careful about it now, using her tongue instead of her wrist, and Jan got her back and took her time. It went on a while because they kept stopping to kiss.

Then Marcia rolled her head toward me.

"Shower," Marcia said.

"Go on," I said.

They went in together. The water started.

Jason got himself up onto the edge of the bed and sat there with his elbows on his knees.

"You were right," Jason said.

"About what?" I asked.

"These girls wanted you, not me," Jason said. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Thank you for making an old man feel young again."

"You're not old," I said, laughing.

"I'm old and broke," Jason said. "I've made more movies than Lou Costello and I've got nothing to show for it."

"Autumn would've told you to shut up by now," I said.

He smiled at that, and then it went wrong on his face, and the laugh wasn't a good one.

"She left me," Jason said.

That stopped me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "What happened?"

"One day she came home, packed all her stuff and walked out," Jason said. He turned his cigarette over in his fingers. "Told me my midlife crisis was killing her."

"What did you do, buy a Porsche?" I asked.

"Worse," Jason said.

"What's worse than that?" I asked.

He was quiet for a few seconds.

"I asked her to marry me," Jason said. "You know what she told me? That marriage would ruin what we had."

"So you asked again," I said.

"I asked again," Jason said. "She said I wasn't good enough for her. And then we had the argument, and that was the end of it."

"She's wrong," I said.

"Maybe," Jason said.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked.

"My lease is up at the end of December," Jason said. "So I'm moving back to Manhattan and reinventing myself."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Seriously," Jason said. "I'm quitting porn, I'm going to drive a cab, and I'm going to audition for horror movies."

Quitting. I heard the word and something dropped in my chest, which was stupid: he wasn't my father, he didn't owe me anything. But he was the only person in this business who had ever made it make sense to me, and him not being in it was like finding a seam in the floor.

"Back to the cab," I said.

"Back to the cab," Jason said.

"You can do that here," I said. "You don't have to go three thousand miles to be broke and unknown. There's plenty of that in the Hills."

Jason smiled at that, but it was the patient smile.

"Sure," he said. "But Autumn isn't in Manhattan."

And there it was. Not a plan. A hope with a lease date on it.

He was going to drive a cab at forty-five and wait for a woman who told him he wasn't good enough to change her mind. He was better at this than anybody I'd met. He was going to walk away from the one thing he was good at for somebody who left.

I wanted to tell him it was a mistake. I wanted to tell him to stay a year, take the money, keep the house, keep working.

"She might not take you back," I said.

"I know," Jason said.

"So it might be for nothing," I said.

He thought about that. Then he shrugged.

"It might," he said. "But I'd rather be in Manhattan with a shot at her than in the Hills with none."

The shower cut off.

They came out with towels around them and their hair dripping, and they were shy again; that was what surprised me. An hour ago they'd been on their backs in the middle of it and now Marcia had her arms crossed over the towel and Jan was holding hers up with one hand.

Their clothes were all over the living room. Jan started pulling hers on without turning around. Marcia went to get her pinafore off the back of the couch and did it one-handed, keeping the towel on.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," Marcia said, to the floor.

"You sure?" I asked.

"She's sure," Jan said. "She's just tired."

Marcia got her dress on and picked her notebook off the cushion and tucked the loose page back into it, holding it against her chest with both arms. Then she went back for her backpack and put it on.

Jason got his wallet out and held a bill out to Marcia.

"Here. For the cab," he said. Then, when she didn't move: "Keep the change."

It was a hundred. He didn't mean anything by it; he'd promised them cab fare before any of this started, and he was a man who paid what he said he'd pay.

But he was handing her money on the way out the door, and it made the whole night look like a job.

Marcia looked at the bill. Then at me.

"Tommy," she said. "Will you walk us out?"

I took both their hands and took them to the elevator.

None of us said anything going down. Their heels were loud on the lobby marble, and the night clerk didn't look up.

I waited with them by the doors with the street coming in cold off the hill.

Marcia had her arms crossed again. Then she said it, to the glass rather than to me.

"You got a girlfriend?" Marcia asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Okay," Marcia said.

Then, before the cab turned the corner, she pulled a pen out of Jan's bag, tore a page out of the notebook, and wrote her number on it.

"In case you're ever back in San Francisco," she said, and handed it to me.

Jan rolled her eyes.

"Subtle, Marcia," Jan said.

The cab pulled up and they climbed in, and Jan pulled the door shut behind her, already talking to the driver. I waved. Marcia didn't; she was looking at me through the back window until the traffic took her.

I stood there a second longer than I needed to. Then I went back in.

Dana was on the floor outside 1214 with her knees against her chest and her shoes off beside her.

"Want to go another round?" I asked, grinning.

She looked up, and her cheeks went pink.

"Actually," Dana said, "I was hoping I could just fall asleep in your arms."

After everything that had happened that night, it was probably the nicest thing anybody had said to me.

I held out my hand.

"Come on," I said. "I think I can handle that."