One of Celine’s roommates from college was going to be in town for the Thanksgiving weekend, and Celine invited her to stay with us.

“You’ll like Marci,” Celine assured me.

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Because I like her, and you like me, so...”

I wasn’t sure what to make of this answer. “Is that some kind of mathematical equation?”

“Yes, it is. A plus B equals C.”

“Well, that clears things up.”

Celine laughed.

“So in this equation are you A and Marci B?”

Celine grinned.

“So,” I continued, daring to go further, “did you and Marci ever, you know?”

“What?”

“Get together?”

“You mean like have sex?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Except one time. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“For senior year me and my best friends, Marci, Stacy, and Hannah, splurged on a really deluxe apartment. Four bedrooms, a living room, and two bathrooms. Marci and I shared a bathroom. One night I got back late from the library, undressed, and slipped into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth, and the bathroom was all golden. Marci was putting golden cellophane over the lights. I asked her why she was doing that. ‘Just to see,’ she said. ‘Just to see what?’ I asked. Then I saw she had been crying. ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘Paul dumped me,’ she said. ‘I’m feeling so sad. I wanted to feel beautiful,’ she blubbered. ‘You are beautiful. Paul’s an idiot,’ I said. She turned into my arms. Pretty soon we were kissing. Just light little kisses. Her lips were so soft. Like liquid gold. Her skin was so soft. Like liquid gold. She half turned and her bottom pressed my mound. My palm ended up on her breast. I could feel her nipple stiffening. My other hand found her bush, her soft golden bush. My fingers found her crease. Her moist little labia. Her pebble-hard clit. Her hot, honey wet cunt. For a while I was so conscious of her nipples, her lips, her ass, her sex, each and every lovely sensation, and then our kisses became more intense, and I lost track of everything except her arousal, my arousal, and abruptly her cunt clamped on my finger, again and again, and when she gasped it was like she was coming in my mouth.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said.

“So did you...? After...?”

“No,” Celine said. “Except with our eyes.”

“Ah,” I said, wondering where I could get some of that golden cellophane.

Right away I liked Marci. She was witty and smart and fresh and cute. It was late the day before Thanksgiving, but Marci and Celine stayed up reminiscing about college days. A lot of their conversation was in a sort of shorthand which made little sense to me.

“Remember at Professor Kirk’s when Tom...”

“That was so funny.”

“Typical Tom.”

“I got a Christmas card. He was juggling cats.”

“Meow, meow, meow.”

“Woof, woof, woof.”

Finally Celine showed Marci the guest room. I might have been asleep when Celine came to bed.

“You liked her, didn’t you?” Celine asked, snuggling close.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I might have to revise the formula.”

“What formula?”

“You know, the equation you said. A + B = C, where you’re A and Marci’s B. Maybe Marci should be A.”

Celine nipped my ear. “Maybe the formula should be A + B + C = X.”