We have sex in the position preferred by most other mammals. At my prompt, she picks up the cut straw I put out for her and vacuums up a line. She catches our reflection in the mirror on the wall.
"It's cliché but I have to admit, this is pretty rock 'n' roll," she says. "Are you gonna do some off my ass?"
"Sure," I say, though I can't really think about set-piece theatrics until we're both high and in the groove.
As Alex confirms that the coke is working its magic, her feelings of well-being, competency, euphoria, and sexiness are further heightened, her glances in the mirror become longer and more frequent. I was with Alex the first and only other time that she did coke, and I remember the aggressively narcissistic streak it brought out in her then and now. She tells me to 'pound me out' and I oblige her.
Alex takes her second line and I snort the rest. We're face to face when I feel the coke begin to work on me. The bitter powder provokes a number of feelings, but the one I'm experiencing most keenly is relief that my methodical drug staggering has meant that I'm high while remaining large and charge. In fact, I'm so aroused that I have to take a pause to prevent myself from going over the edge. Alex is behaving even bossier than usual and isn't having that.