The Tragedy Of A Sex Doomed To Take Their Delights In Strange And Unnatural Ways
From the back:
Before Lonnie could protest further, the woman had led her into the bedroom and was pouring a green liqueur into two small snifters. Lonnie felt overly self-conscious. She wished the woman had given her a robe, at least.
“What’s it called?” she asked, pointing to the drinks.
“Why, creme de menthe, of course,” the other woman answered.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Lonnie said.
“Why, you poor little innocent,” she chucked. “But don’t just stand around like this, my dear.” She gave Lonnie a light pat on the buttocks. “Why don’t you get into bed? And we’ll finish our drinks there, all right?…”
“But — this is your bed,” Lonnie said, somewhat timidly.
“No, my dear. This is our bed.” She led Lonnie easily to the mattress and sat her down firmly. “Now, just lie back and relax, darling. There’s really nothing to worry about, you know…”