I felt my phone buzz. (My leg was on it). I drew my face away and a string of gooey wetness pulled away with me. I saw that I was looking at this pink, monstrous, excited wilderness, inside of which my fingers were helplessly enclosed. I kept swirling my fingers around and looked at the text message with my free hand. It was my friend asking if we were meeting in McDougal's at noon. Shit, I was supposed to meet James at McDougals, where he works. (McDougals is a place where they don’t give a shit how old you are if you know someone who works there. I got completely loaded there time and time again.) I propped my hand against Janis’ inner thigh and she did not even try to move away. I quickly punched in, Nope, can't do it. I paused, thinking, and punched in; I'm eating pussy. I set my phone down and saw that Janis was staring down at me with the same expression as when she gets a question wrong in class, except redder. My fingers on the front lines were in a cease fire, resting on her vag lips. She said "Dennis...get off your phone. Stay with me." I just looked at her for a second. I slipped my two fingers back inside her and rubbed side to side. I kept staring at her with that neutral expression I'm a fucking champ at doing. Her expression was not so neutral; she was red-faced; she was confused and upset; she was squinting and moaning and forgetting I'd ever interrupted things. She was resting her head back down on the pillow and her hair was unspooling on either side. I dove back in to her muff. She was very slick against my tongue; it felt like my tongue would slip on her vagina and break something. I snorted some vagina stuff out of my nose. My shoulders pressed against her legs as I moved my hands up her body and fondled her tits. She hyperventilated. She pushed a hand against my hair, removed it, pushed it against my hair again. Now she was more determined to make me happy. I appreciated her tenacity. I pulled back a second time. All I could see was pure, gaping vagina. I went back to licking her. Janis shut her legs around my head. Everything that entered my ear-drums--her hyperventilating church-noises, the rustling of sheets, the hum of the air in her room, the smacking of my tongue against her clit, the buzz of my phone as James responded--was sucked away and all I felt was smooth, dense skin. Her thighs flexed and retracted from my head for a split second, then clamped back around my head. She repeated this motion very quickly for the next thirty or so seconds. I closed my eyes, because what was I supposed to look at? I felt her feet bounce off my upper back like I was a human basketball hoop rim. An image flashed in my head: a wrinkled magazine cover showing a bare pair of female legs stretched out against a sky-blue background. Janis released my head from its hostage situation for good. I don’t think she was in control of how her legs moved anymore. She moaned very loudly three times and did the most perfect goddam thing ever-- she fumbled a hand on to my forehead and cocked my head back so I could look at her face while her thighs bounced off my shoulders. She held my head like that for just a few seconds-- long enough for me to get one of my brilliant, deranged ideas. I grabbed my iPhone from beside her leg, raised it so my arm bent around her leg, pressed the camera app and snapped a picture of her. Her head was cocked back, her eyes were shut, her mouth formed a jagged O, her tits jangled on either corner--they were bouncy, future soccer mom tits-- and her very Irish dimples had a staring contest with me, as if to say, 'Are ye having as blarney of a time as Janis, bogle??' That was what the picture looked like. I let the phone fall on her sheets. I reached up and touched Janis' cheek with the hand I’d been fingering her with as if to say I was also a strong, sentimental lover. She let me hold the side of her face for a few seconds. Then she smacked my hand away and completely changed tempo. She screamed, "Fuck you, Dennis, fuck you!" I tried to look confused and said; "What??" "Take your fucking phone away from me, fuck you, Oh My God, I thought I could trust you, Oh my God, what is wrong with me..." She hit me with her pillow. For a while I thought it was a game she was playing and was really saying she wanted to fuck me, but when she threw my phone across the room I got the actual drift. I grabbed my phone and told her, okay, I guess I misread your signals, wow, way to tell a dude you hate him. She yelled at me fuck you again as I opened her door and bolted out. I pressed the button on the water fountain in the hallway, but then realized that the water might take the taste of Janis’ vagina out of my mouth. I didn’t want that to happen. For a while, I worried that my phone was broken, but thank God, it wasn’t. I still have those pictures of Janis or rather Janis' tits, nape and chin. I’ve sent it to all my best buds. I sort of wish I had the cell number of everybody who’s ever hooked up with Janis so I could send it to them. I look at the photo and think it's kind of masterful, sort of like something Robert Mapplethorpe would have done if he were straight and ate pussy. It looks exactly like the type of photo you would find in Playboy or something more hardcore. Or even certain Victoria's Secret ads. Or maybe even a really pornographic version of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. Which prompted me to search around the house for that original swimsuit edition magazine. I wanted to relive the feeling of being fourteen and not knowing what this mysterious thing was in front of me, and having not experienced it myself, so directly. But I got tired and couldn’t find it. So I’m stuck with this story, and with the photograph, and there’s no going back in time.