girl.
Pat was amused at this display of smug maleness. She was sure she was stronger than Allen. 'I'm sure we can manage. You go to bed. I'm sorry I kept you up so late.'
'It was a pleasure,' he answered. This girl made him feel more like a man by a word, than his wife ever did in bed.
After Allen went to the bathroom Pat and Karen set about opening the bed-couch. When it was opened Karen excused herself to get some linens. Pat noted the snowy color of the sheets.
'It's nice to know I'm getting such a good housekeeper. My apartment is always such a mess.' Pat grinned at the girl.
Karen looked startled, and her pretty face took on the color of cooked beets.
'Don't get upset, baby,' Pat whispered, moving close to the girl. 'It has to work out that way, you know. Try to get used to the idea.'
Karen opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She turned around, hiding her face in her hands.
Pat looked at Karen's small back. The girl looked so small, so young and fragile. Pat gave in to a moment of regret. She had no business here! What was she doing to this girl? Hadn't she done the same thing enough times in the past to satisfy her ego? She was about to break up Karen's marriage. For what? What could I give her? she asked herself. 'How do you feel?' Pat put a hand lightly on Karen's shoulder.
'How do you think I feel?' Karen whispered fiercely.
Pat saw the lovely huge breasts in profile. She imagined removing the plain-blue blouse, unhooking the restraining bra, and cupping the hot breasts with her hands. Pat took a deep breath and relaxed a gain. What was she thinking? What would she be taking Karen away from? She looked around the room. This dump? She looked toward the bathroom. That clod with an extra length of flesh instead of a brain? This idiot's existence? Pat smiled softly. She would be saving the girl from pure mediocrity. Whatever she gave Karen it would be better, more soulful, more enlightening than what she had. No matter what happened later on. 'Karen…'
The girl turned around all the way. She rubbed her small nose childlessly, her face again pale and composed. 'I'm just frightened, Pat. Can we… talk about it tomorrow?' She glanced toward the bathroom. She thought she heard the shower taper off. 'Al will be out in a minute.' She bent to the task of making the bed, all the while avoiding Pat's eyes.
'I'm out of the john, girls,' Allen called from the bedroom. 'Good night.'
'I'll be in after I do the dishes. You better go to sleep,' Karen responded. 'Would you like to wear a nightgown of mine, Pat?'
'That would be lovely.' Pat casually threw the jacket on a chair and sat down on the bed.
She could sense Karen's mood. Now was the time to be gentle. Damn Allen, she thought mildly. If he wasn't in the next room I could have her now! 'You see,' she went on in her most lonely tone, 'I need someone to take care of me.' She passed a fingertip gently over her lips, tracing the line of her chin, the length of her neck, the curve of her breasts. She watched Karen's eyes follow the finger. When the short nail and the eyes had fallen together to her lap, Pat spoke again. 'I need… someone…'
'I… I have to go… to sleep now. I… I'll bring you the nightgown…' Karen backed toward her bedroom, hers and Allen's. She felt as if a cord were wrapped around her loins, urging her to the girl.
'It's all right, Karen,' Pat said sweetly. 'I think I'll sleep in my slip. It's all I sleep in at home, when I sleep in anything at all.'
Karen glanced again at the slip. It was black. Karen thought remotely that she had never seen Pat in anything but black, undeniably her color, a witch's color, dark and mysterious and exciting. 'If you like…' Karen longed to go to the girl and feel her lips against her own mouth. Once, anyway. She had never wanted anything so badly. 'Good night, Pat. Dream of…' What had she started to say? Karen was horrified by her traitorous mouth and body. What had happened to her? 'Dream of something nice,' she managed to say.
'I will, darling,' Pat whispered. 'I'll dream of you…'
Karen retreated into her bedroom just as Pat stood up and opened the button on her skirt. She heard the hiss of a zipper as she closed the door and she visualized the skirt dropping to the floor. The slip must be short, she knew, remembering the above-the-knee length of Pat's skirt. She hadn't seen the color of the bra Pat wore, but Karen was sure it was black. And her panties, too.
'Karen? What are you doing?' Allen asked in the darkness.
'Nothing.' She became aware of her body's trembling.
'Karen? How about coming to bed? Let's get some sleep, huh?' Allen's voice was muffled and remote, but not with sleep.
'Yes,' Karen answered and began removing her clothing. She groped in the dark for a nightgown, pulling out the first one her fingers touched in the deep drawer. As the gown slipped down over her raised arms, Karen realized that of all the gowns she might have picked, she had chosen the frothy concoction of lace and ribbons that she had purchased for her wedding night. She had to forcibly keep herself from letting her wild thoughts revert to the girl on the couch. The choice of this particular gown, go lug to Pat in it, symbolically starting a new marriage.
'Hey, how about coming to bed? What are you doing, anyway?' Allen asked, sitting up in bed.
'I… I thought I'd get some water.' Karen turned in confusion toward the living room. But she didn't move.
'After all the coffee you drank? Don't be silly. Come to bed.' Allen passed his fingers lightly over his body. He hadn't lost his readiness.
Karen nodded in the dark and walked to the bed. She was tired, unbearably tired. Sleep was almost as tempting as Pat.
The bed was warmed from Allen's tossing body. Karen wriggled between the crisp sheets and adjusted the blanket. Just as she got comfortable, Allen rolled over. He reached out and put an arm around Karen's shoulders.
'I thought you were sleepy,' she said, trying to move away without making it seem like she was deliberately avoiding him.
'I am.' He closed his eyes and tried again to ignore the pressure in the pit of his belly. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at all unless he gave some relief to his nagging body. He reached out for Karen again, this time lifting the frothy nightgown to her thighs.
'Allen! Stop it! What are you doing?' Karen pushed against his hands angrily.
'Won't take long tonight, honey,' Allen whispered.
Karen jerked away from her husband. She sat frozenly erect on the bed. 'With company in the living room you want to…' Karen began in her frostiest whisper.
'Forget it! Just forget I asked!' Allen rolled to the other edge of the bed. 'I'm going to sleep!'
Karen waited a moment, then cautiously lay down, keeping her distance from her husband. She felt the uncomfortable stiffness in her limbs, and knew that sleep was out of the question. Her mouth was dry. She thought of going to the kitchen for water. She closed her eyes and thought very hard about it. She could see herself going into the living room, looking down at Pat. Karen worked her tongue over her dry lips, listened to her husband's steady breathing and eased herself out of bed.
The living room was dark and almost silent. Karen stood very still and listened. She imagined she could detect a soft but steady rhythmic breathing coming from the couch. Her eyes, well accustomed to the darkness, could make out the outline of gentle swells under the blankets which draped the couch. She watched only a moment. Then, unable to make out the beautiful face at all, Karen continued on into the kitchen.
Karen filled a glass to the brim with cold water, and eagerly brought it to her lips. But after a few drops, she discovered that she was no longer thirsty. She poured the water down the drain and automatically rinsed the glass.
Then, because she didn't know what else to do, Karen turned to go back to bed.
Pat stood there so quietly it was impossible to guess how long she had been there, watching her. Karen wondered uncomfortably if Pat had silently observed her idiotic glass-washing. Then she forgot all about feeling awkward or embarrassed. Sensation poured in on her like a delayed reaction. She knew how she looked, with the small kitchen table lamp she had turned on shooting rays of yellow light though her gown, illuminating her large
