Come Out Tonight - By Richard Laymon

Chapter One

On his knees, Duane braced himself up with one arm. With the other, he reached out past Sherry’s face. She heard his clock radio scoot on the shelf of the headboard.

“Putting on some music?” she asked.

“Getting this,” he said.

She looked up at the plastic packet and said, “Ah. Good thinking.”

As he ripped it open, Sherry gently glided her hands up and down his wet thighs. Only a few minutes earlier, she had toweled him dry after their shower. But now he was sweaty—and so was she. Her hands made soft wet sounds as they slid against his skin.

We must be nuts, she thought, doing this on the hottest night of the year. And at his place. But she supposed the heat was probably what had brought them to this. On all those other nights, she’d managed to control herself and call a halt before it went this far.

Tonight, she had no intention of stopping.

She wanted him. Wanted him all over her, hot and wet and slippery, wanted him inside her.

Maybe the heat had something to do with that.

Maybe a lot.

The unusually hot night. And Duane’s apartment building without air conditioning.

His windows were wide open. The hot Santa Ana winds blew in, caressing her, filling the room with the acrid aromas of brush fires somewhere in the distance.

It was the sort of night that made you feel restless and vulnerable and maybe a little frightened…the sort of night that stirred desires.

“Here we go.” He slipped the rubber disk out of its wrapper, then waved it at Sherry with a crooked smile. His face was red and sweaty. “Now if I can just figure out what to do with the damn thing…”

“Allow me,” Sherry said.



“Okay.” He handed it to her. “I never…used the things with…you know, with Bev. She was on the pill and…”

His voice stopped as Sherry took hold of him with one hand.

“I’m not so good at this sort of thing myself,” she said. “All I know is, you don’t unroll them first.”

“You’re probably right.”

Still holding Duane’s penis with her left hand, she used her right to push the disk against its head. Fingers encircling the rubbery ring, she started to roll it down. The latex felt sticky. It crackled.

“Is it supposed to be like this?” Duane asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“It feels…awfully tight.”

“You’re too big for it.”

He laughed softly.

With little more than an inch of him covered, it suddenly stopped unrolling. “Looks like we’ve got a problem,” Sherry said.

“Oh, great.”

“How old is this thing?”


Sherry laughed. “Not this thing,” she said. “This thing. This rubber.”

“Oh. I don’t know. A few years, I guess.”

“A few years?”

“I never had much use for them, so…”

Sherry used force. Instead of coming unstuck, it split. The rubbery ring slid all the way down, leaving him capped with a flimsy, pale toque.

She laughed, shook her head and said, “Shit.”

Duane laughed, too. Then he sighed. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign, all right.” Still laughing, she plucked off the latex cap.

The laughing stopped as she rolled the ring up his thick erection.

“I guess it’s not that funny,” she whispered.

Leaning forward, he took hold of her shoulders. He stared down into her eyes. “I want you so badly,” he said.

“I want you, too.” Trying to smile, she said, “The sooner, the better.” She tossed the remains of the condom aside. “Maybe we’ll have better luck with the next one.”

He grimaced. “I don’t have any more.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Afraid not.”

“That was it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah, that’s all right,” she said. She resumed caressing his thighs.

“Do you have any?” he asked.

“I wish.”

“Can we…you know, do it anyway?”

Sherry shook her head. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

“I’m perfectly healthy. I won’t give you anything. I mean, I haven’t…Nobody since Bev. That was two years ago, and I’ve had regular checkups, so…I won’t give you AIDS or anything.”

“I know,” she said.

But she didn’t know. Not for sure.

I’m not going to risk my life, she thought.

She said, “You wouldn’t want me to get pregnant, would you?”

“That’s not very likely, is it?”

“Likely enough, tonight.”

He shook his head slowly from side to side.

“There’s always tomorrow night,” Sherry said.

“But I don’t want to wait.”

“The anticipation will make it all the better.”

“I’ve already been anticipating it for weeks.”

“I know, I know. Me, too.”

If we’d just done a little advance planning along with all that anticipation…

“Just go to the store tomorrow,” Sherry said, “and pick up a good supply of the things. Then come over to my place tomorrow night. I’ll make us a nice dinner and we’ll try again.