or invade. They came gently and they were welcomed by the flesh they touched.
“Rhoda, Rhoda.”
Until she was lying on her back, eyes closed, arms heavy at her sides, her whole body limp as fallen flowers. Megan touched all the secret parts of her woman’s body and made them open to the light of love. Megan held her breasts and kissed them. Megan’s hands and lips stroked desperate tides in her liquid flesh.
More.
The climax was beyond belief. She had never understood the mechanics of this glimpse of heaven, had never heard the word and been able to translate it into terms compatible with her own sexuality. But now it was happening-a sweet explosion, a lovely eruption, a halfway touch of death.
Megan’s voice, from far away, said, “Sleep, darling, sleep,” and she slept.
“What time is it?”
“Four-thirty.”
“In the morning? How long did I sleep?”
“An hour. Maybe a little more.”
She yawned luxuriously. A bedsheet covered to the throat and a pillow cushioned her head. Megan was sitting at the side of the bed, wearing a pale green robe and smoking a cigarette. Rhoda started to sit up in bed. The sheet slipped away and bared her body to the waist. She snatched at it in embarrassment, then realized the inconsistency of being embarrassed in front of Megan. She let the sheet fall.
“I can’t believe it,” she said slowly.
“It happened.”
“God, I know. I couldn’t have dreamed it. I don’t have such heavenly dreams. I never knew.”
“What you are?”
“And what I was missing. I can’t believe it, it’s a new world. I must be babbling like an idiot.”
“No. Like a girl who just became a woman.”
“Mmmmm.” She took a cigarette, let Megan light it for her. “I feel slightly sinful,” she said. “Is that bad?”
“Does it bother you?”
“No. I have the feeling that it ought to, but it doesn’t. I rather like it, this sinful feeling.”
She ducked ashes in the ashtray on the bedside table, then propped her pillow behind her and sat back against it and drew again on the cigarette. She closed her eyes and bathed in the memory of Megan’s lovemaking. She opened them and looked at Megan’s body concealed by the folds of the green robe. She had a sudden urge to see Megan unclothed, to know the blonde girl’s body. And she looked down at her own breasts, and then at Megan again, and she leaned over and put out her cigarette.
“I have to work tomorrow,” she said.
“On Saturday?”
“Six days a week, nine to five-thirty. Number One employee for Mr. Yamatari-san.”
“Then we’d better get to sleep.”
“But I’m not tired,” she said. And she turned away and said, “I want to see you, I want to hold you. I want to look at you without any clothes on or any robe. I want to touch your body. I want so much to love you, Megan.”
“Baby-”
She turned to face Megan again. “I don’t know anything,” she said miserably. “I have to learn everything.”
“Like what?”
“Like how to make love.”
“You’ll do fine, baby.”
“But I don’t know anything-”
Megan’s hand, cool and soft, on the side of her face. “Don’t worry. And don’t be in such a rush to learn. The first times are so sweet and warm, so new. It’s wonderful to discover yourself. Don’t hurry past those times. Let it come slowly.”
“I want to be good for you.”
“You are. You couldn’t help being good for me.”
“I think I love you, Megan.”
“Oh, baby.”
She sat up straight. “What do we do now? Do you love me, Megan?”
“God, yes.”
“Well, what do we do? That other girl, the girl you bought the pendant for-”
“Forget her.”
“Did she live here? With you?”
“Yes.”
She thought about it. No more being alone, no more sleeping in that narrow bed, no more living in that little joyless room alone by herself. She would live in this apartment, with Megan. She would sleep every night in this big bed, with Megan.
“I love you,” she said.
“My darling.”
“Take off your robe. I want to see you.”
And Megan stood up and let the robe slip off her shoulders. The robe fell to the floor and Rhoda let her eyes take in the full perfection of the blonde girl’s body. Arms and shoulders tanned golden by the sun. Firm and large and flawless breasts, larger than Rhoda’s own. A narrow waist, a flat stomach. Wide and almost shameless hips. Long, long, long legs.
“My love,” she said. And she said the words not so much to Megan as to herself. This was her love, this was the person whom she loved. This goddess, high breasted and gloriously blonde, this was the person who warmed her and excited her.
“Lie with me,” she said.
The phrase seemed slightly biblical. Lie with me. As Adam knew Eve, and she conceived and bore Megan was beside her. In the bed. Megan’s body was next to her own body, close to her own body, and she could feel the heat of the blonde girl, could smell the perfume of her. The lights were on this time. Before, they had come together in darkness. Now she could see the sweet flesh of the girl who had made sweet love to her.
“I don’t know what to do, ” she said.
“Just kiss me. ”
“I-”
She took Megan in her arms, drew Megan close. At first she kissed her very tentatively, not knowing quite how to go about it, not wanting to do anything that wasn’t good form. Her arms were around Megan and her lips touched Megan’s lips gently and briefly, and she felt Megan’s body against her own, and all at once she knew what to do, knew precisely how she ought to behave.
Her tongue moved to caress Megan’s lips. Megan’s mouth opened in response, and Rhoda’s tongue probed that mouth, stretching the kiss and turning it into something much greater than any kiss had ever been. And she thought suddenly that Tom had taught her to kiss this way, or had tried, and that she had thought it disgusting and unpleasant. But now it was neither, now it was good.
Her hands moved, moved instinctively. And she kissed Megan and taught herself the contours of Megan’s body, and she looked into Megan’s half-lidded eyes and saw how they swam in passion, and she knew that she would be able to learn all that had to be learned, that in her she already seemed to know all the secrets of love. She would be good. She would make Megan happy.
Afterward, she never quite dropped off to sleep. She dozed lightly. Outside, the sky grew light with the overture of dawn. She stayed in bed until seven-thirty, then slipped out soundlessly and went into the living room to dress. She looked at the couch, all made up with sheets and a blanket, and she thought how she had tried to sleep there, how she had fought a battle with herself and had neither lost or won, this depending upon one’s point of view.
She had won, she knew. She had gained a world, and all that she had given up was better lost. Loneliness,
