“And before that… when we first woke up, Denise, you had taken my hand and placed it between your thighs to show me how wet you were! Right?”

“Yes, of course, but…”

“I'm a man. And like all men, I have a hard on when I get up, but I need to go urinate, right?”

“Yes.”

“So I went to the bathroom and did just that… WITH THE DOOR CLOSED!” he emphasized, releasing his grip on my shoulders and walking over to the dresser. “After that, if I may acquaint you with a few biological facts of the male, I was not erect, because I had to de-tu-mesce in order to urinate. Now… I put my organ back into my shorts and I opened the door while I was shaving. It has been common practice for me to do this, right?”

“Yes… we've become like a family… Kathy sees you in your shorts…”

“Kathy spoke to me as she walked by or something,” Bob went on, lighting a cigarette. “It was early morning. I was hardly even aware of her. My mind was much more taken with what I had just left in the bed-you! You do recall that you have expressed a desire that I shave prior to intercourse?”

“Yes…”

“That was the reason I chose to shave, my dear,” he brought his point dramatically home, “My entire mental concentration was on you. I was thinking of coming back into the bedroom here and making love with you… that, my dear Denise, is why my penis erected while I was shaving! Why… why do you punish yourself like this? Why? Denise, you are a very sexy woman!”

“Will you… forgive me, Bob?”

How can I describe the rest of the summer except to say that it was a series of similar incidents? In looking back, it appears that these things came in regular cycles. Bob would make love to me on night or one day until I was literally exhausted. His staying powers were almost superhuman, it seemed. This would be followed by a period of deprivation, and I would think that he was never going to make love to me again. There would be the flirtations with Kathy too, and I realized more and more how two-sided they were. One night, I walked in on them unexpectedly while they were watching T-V in the den. They were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, but Kathy had one of her breasts out the front of her baby dolls and it looked as if she was rubbing the nipple. I know Bob was watching, although he denied it. I felt his erection as soon as I sat down.

Before I knew it though, summer was over and Kathy was gone. I felt more confused than ever. It was almost as if the continual crises presented by the Bob-Kathy problem had been a way of life, a kind of replacement for the hectic swinging and part-time prostituting that kept me going before.

But Bob managed to introduce other intrigues. He would be gone for days or weeks at a time, then suddenly reappear in the middle of the night from out of nowhere. He took my car on most of these trips and ruined it in a wreck in Georgia that March. I saw the accident report listing a 29-year-old woman and a 14-year-old girl as occupants of the car. “The family of one of our men killed by the Commies,” he explained. And at the time, he made me believe it. When I was away for the state teacher's convention in April, I thought it would be Tuesday before I returned. We adjourned a day early, and I found a woman's suitcase and clothing in our bedroom when I arrived at the house. I didn't know what to do. I was actually afraid to stay there and face it when they both came back. Instead, I stayed overnight in a motel.

“Yes… I slept with a woman while you were gone,” Bob admitted without batting an eye, when I told him what I had seen. “Denise, I think this is something that you can understand… please listen. You may remember that I told you I was dispatched to Georgia to break the news of my best friend's death to his widow. It was a tragic thing. Her husband was fine boy… both of them from the country… code of the hills type people… married when she

was 14 or 15.

“While you were gone, the poor woman came up here and contacted me. Denise, I have never known a more natural and sincere woman. I knew her husband as a courageous young man who died at the hands of Communist torturers and murderers. She… she came up here and contacted me for one reason, Denise. I was Ed's best friend. I was not a part of their life together in that small Georgia village. But the woman was headed toward a nervous breakdown unless she had sex. I was her only trusted point of contact. The woman could not just go out and pick up any man. It had to be me, because I was a part of the secret life that no one else knew of. Her husband was a covert agent, you understand.

“Yes, Denise, I had intercourse with her seven times during the 18 hours she was here. It was not by my choice, but a humanitarian thing that I did. You know what it is to be lonely and starved for love, Denise. Don't you?”

“Yes, Bob. You… did the right thing,” I found myself saying. “I'm glad you did…”

My life became a cat and mouse game. I too began to stray when Bob would be gone for long periods of time. I was afraid to see anyone at the house, but I met Ricky sometimes at a motel on the other side of town, and Bill arranged paying dates for me with men in the hotels occasionally. He also took me to more swinging parties and bought me an entire wardrobe of exotic lingerie from that famous place in Hollywood.

One night, he took me to a neighborhood bar he frequented. I wore no pants, as he had instructed, and I would allow generous views of my thighs and crotch to men at the tables as I sat at the bar stool. Bill would go over and talk with the men he knew, telling them I had on no pants and asking them to watch when I turned to face them.

Later, we went up to one of the men's apartments and they all took turns with me. Again, I enjoyed the situation very much, particularly since none of the men were averse to kissing and licking my body. Sometimes, there were four or five working at the at the same time.

While we were sitting around drinking and just leisurely feeling each other, the man whose apartment we were at brought out a set of photographs for us to look at. Actually, there were several groups of pictures, each in a separate envelope. The first set were of the two girls and a man doing just about everything. Another group contained two girls together, there were some of twin sisters and their pet collie, and another of a girl using a vibrator and various kinds of dildoes on herself.

“There here are the greatest,” the man announced with pride, spreading the set out in front of everyone. “I took these myself when I was stationed over in Germany after the war. See? This gal here is the mother and this is her teenage daughter. For a carton of cigarettes, I got them while the other watched. The mother helped me get it all the way…”

I excused myself and went to the bathroom and threw up, refusing to recognize the reason why. Kathy was due to arrive the following Monday for her summer vacation.

Chapter Ten

THE RETURN OF SUMMER

I noticed a difference in Kathy the moment she arrived. But I was at a loss to figure out exactly what it was. I thought it might be a kind of annoyance at finding Bob still with me, but her attitude toward him seemed closer and warmer than before.

My old fears were renewed and amplified because of this new closeness, in fact. Instead of acting more mature around Bob, Kathy seemed to enjoy playing the role of “little girl lost,” talking baby-talk to him, cuddling in his lap and throwing her arms around him. Whenever she needed advice or an answer to a question, she inevitably went to him.

It also became quite obvious that on those nights when Kathy would sit on his lap and bounce around, Bob was much more in a mood to make love with me. When I could stand it no longer, when the suspense and worry had built up in me until I could keep quiet no longer, I burst out at Bob one evening just before he was about to start intercourse with me.

“What do you and Kathy do when I'm out teaching at the Institute in the afternoon?” I blurted, turning my pelvis away from him. “She gets you so excited right in front of me at nights… what do you do when you're alone with her? What?”

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