It hadn't been very difficult to get her into my bedroom. Dinner and a couple of drinks had made that a possibility.
She started with a shoulder rub, mixing her caresses with kisses on the base of my neck and the space between my shoulder blades. I did the same to her, nuzzling into the strawberry smell of her hair, putting a tongue into her ear, kissing her lips.
Her bra opened up and she slid it off over the gentle slope of her shoulders, exposing her breasts to me.
I slid my hand down to the crotch of her panties. She was already wet. That made two of us. I ground my palm into her. She groaned and moved, arching her back.
Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open with a bang, making both of us jump. Pulling my mouth from Alex's breast, I turned and stared at the door.
It was Mike in the doorway, drunk and naked.
He looked ridiculous and pathetic, but Alex and I both screamed, anyway.
"Jane! Jane! Jane! Jane! Jane! Jane!" he chanted, pounding on his chest like Tarzan.
"Get out of here, you asshole!" I yelled, throwing a pillow at him.
And then it happened.
It was like the Zapruder film.
In slow motion, Mike's head dipped down. He clutched at his mouth and tilted his head. The pillow cracked him between the eyes, his head jerking back and to the left.
Then he barfed.
The warm vomit arced towards us in a spray, splashing out onto the floor, the bed, us.
Alex, like Jackie before her, tried to get away, but slipped and skidded across my wooden floor, crash-landing into my closet.
Mike, like a demonic Energizer bunny, keeled over and passed out, but still puked, the gush of soured tequila and bile pooling around my feet.
This set off a chain-reaction. Alex slapped a palm up to her mouth, but couldn't get out of the closet in time and upchucked into her hand. The pressure of her retching shot the partly-digested Fettucini Alfredo through the cracks of her fingers, sprinkling into the air like a chunky confetti.
After she finished, her puke mixing with Mike's, Alex's breasts looked like a Jackson Pollack painting.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she said, her apologies punctuated by the buzzsawing of Mike's snoring. She slipped a wet, gooey sweater over her nakedness and headed towards my door. "I'd stay to help you clean up, but I don't think I can..."
She started to dry heave.
