as though it had refreshed itself independently, as though it had taken a nap all by itself.
Gently, slowly, stealthily—why had we become furtive now? I wondered—I pulled Elsie up and over me. Her cunt was different than Maude's longer, narrower, like the finger of a glove slipping over my prick. I made comparisons as I cautiously jogged her up and down. I ran my fingers along the edge and grabbed her bush and tugged it gently. Not a whisper passed our lips. Her teeth were fastened in to the hump of my shoulder. She was arched so that only the tip of it was in her and around that she was slowly, skillfully, torturingly twirling her cunt. Now and then she sank down on it and dug away like an animal.
«God, I love it!» she finally whispered. «I'd like to fuck you every night.»
We rolled over on our sides and lay there glued together, making no movement, no sound. With extraordinary muscular contractions her cunt played with my prick as if it had a life and will of its own.
«Where do you live?» she whispered. «Where can I see you...
Silence. Just the beating of her pulse between the legs. I never felt such a tight fit, such a long, smooth, silky, clean, fresh tight fit. She couldn't have been fucked more than a dozen times. And the roots of her hair, so strong and fragrant. And her breasts, firm and smooth, almost like apples. The fingers too, strong, supple, greedy, always wandering, clutching, caressing, tickling. How she loved to grab my balls, to cup them, weigh them, then ring the scrotum with two fingers, as if she were going to milk me. And her tongue always active, her teeth biting, pinching, nipping...
She's very quiet now, not a muscle stirring. Whispers again.
«Am I doing all right? You'll teach me, won't you? I'm rooty. I could fuck forever... You're not tired any more, are you? Just leave it like that... don't move. If I come don't take it out.... you won't, will you? God, this is heaven...»
Quiet again. I have the feeling I could lie this . way indefinitely. I want to hear more.
«I've got a friend,» she whispers. «We could meet there... she wouldn't say anything. Jesus, Henry, I never through! it could be like this. Can you fuck like this every night?»
I smiled in the dark.
«What's the matter?» she whispered.
«Not every night,» I whispered, almost breaking into a giggle.
«Henry, fuck! Quick, fuck me... I'm coming.»
We came off simultaneously, a prolonged orgasm which made me wonder where the damned juice came from.
«You did it!» she whispered. Then: «It's all right... it was marvelous.»
Maude turned over heavily in her sleep.
«Good-night,» I whispered. «I'm going to sleep—
I'm dead.»
«Write me to-morrow,» she whispered, kissing my cheek. «Or phone me...
17
It was Sunday that this outing took place. I didn't see Mona until near dawn Tuesday. Not that I remained with Maude—no, I went straight to the office on Monday morning. Towards noon I telephoned Mona and was told that she was asleep. It was Rebecca who answered the telephone. She said Mona hadn't been home all night, that she had been rehearsing. «And where were you all night?» she demanded, almost with proprietary solicitude. I explained that the child had been taken ill and that I had been obliged to stay with her all night.
«You'd better think up something better than that,» she laughed, «before you talk to Mona. She's been telephoning all night. She was frantic about you.»
«That's why she didn't come home, I suppose?»
«You don't expect any one to believe your stories, do you?» said Rebecca, giving another low, throaty laugh. «Are you coming home tonight?» she added. «We missed you... You know, Henry, you ought never to get married...»
I cut her short. «I'll be home to-night for dinner, yes. Tell her that when she wakes up, will you? And don't laugh when you tell her what I said—about the child, I mean.»
She began to laugh over the telephone.
«Rebecca, listen, I'm trusting you. Don't make it hard for me. You know I think the world of you. If I ever marry another woman it will be you, you know that...»
More laughter. Then: «For God's sake, Henry, stop it! But come home to-night... I want to hear all about it. Arthur won't be home, I'll stand by you... though you don't deserve it.»
So I went home, after taking a nap in the roller skating rink. I was rather exhilarated too, on arriving, owing to a last minute interview with an Egyptologist who wanted a job as a night messenger. A statement he had let drop about the probable age of the pyramids had thrown me out of the rut so violently that it was a matter of complete indifference to me how Mona would react to my story. There was reason to believe, he had said, and I am sure I heard him rightly, that the pyramids might be sixty thousand years old—
Rebecca came at once to my room. The house was empty. Mona had telephoned, she said, to say that there was another rehearsal on. She didn't know when she would be home.
«That's fine,» I said. «Did you make dinner?»
«God, Henry, you're adorable.» She put her arms around me affectionately and gave me a comradely hug. «I wish Arthur were like that. It would be easier to forgive him sometimes.»
«Isn't there a soul around?» I asked. It was most unusual for the house to be so deserted.
«No, everybody's gone,» said Rebecca, examining the roast in the oven. «Now you can tell me about that great love you were talking about over the phone.» She laughed again, a low, earthy laugh which sent a thrill through me.
«You know I wasn't serious,» I said. «Sometimes I say anything at all... though in a way I mean it too. You understand, don't you?»
«You know you're safe with me, that's it, eh?» I said, sidling up to her and putting an arm around her.
She wriggled away laughingly. «I don't think any such thing—and you know it!? she burst out.
«I'm only making up to you out of politeness,» I said, with a huge grin. «We're going to have a cosy little meal now... God, it smells good... what is it? chicken?»
«Pork!» she said.
