“Did you ever see a man do that?” she asked. “It's awful. I hope you never have to see it. You'd want to hit somebody if you did.”

“I never hit anybody any more,” I said. “I don't want to see it, though. Did Toby have his boy friends in?”

“They were there all of the time. It seemed as though it were all of the time. I thought it would be fun to watch, but it wasn't, and I had to dress up like a man and be part of it. It wasn't fun.”

“I thought he wouldn't let you have anyone else,” I said. “Wasn't that what you said?”

“He wouldn't let me go out with anybody who could fuck. Only those damn fairies. They aren't people like anybody else. They're something apart from everything and everybody in the world.”

Ruth rubbed my prick from one side to the other over her mouth. She pushed it up by her nose and brushed it with her eyelashes, brushing the end by fluttering her eyelids.

“You don't sound very sympathetic to them,” I said. “That's just the way they are, like people being white or black. You like niggers, don't you?”

“That isn't good logic. I can't get used to hearing you call them niggers, either. If you like them so much, why don't you call them black people?”

“You wouldn't understand that. That isn't good logic either. And I don't like them so much. I just like them better than whites. I'm not exactly a negrophile.”

“Then I'm not exactly unsympathetic to Toby's friends. I don't like them, but one night when Toby came home after a truck driver had beaten him up I felt awful. I thought I loved him that night, just because of that.”

She had gotten a loose lash into her eye, and she stopped to work it out. When she had it out she began again to touch her lips with my prick, but her lips were open more, and the end rubbed on the inside of them, and against her teeth.