'Let me at least put it between your thighs then,' he wheedled. 'Without doing anything else, okay? That won't hurt you, Lenore, and it would give me so much pleasure. Please.'
'I wouldn't go down on you for a million dollars, you fat creep,' she snapped at him. 'The only reason I'm not reporting this is that I don't want to go through the time and bother of a police thing and a trial. But if you hang around here another five minutes I'll change my mind.'
'All I'm asking is that you-' he wheedled.
Her harsh laugh raked his eardrums. 'Jesus I was warned by one of the girls that you were a dirty old man who went around trying to crash parties and cop feels of girls who drank too much. I should have listened. Now I'm warning you. Get the hell out of here fast.'
As he stared at her, his eyes tearing, she looked at him without fear, only contempt 'Jesus, if you're that horny, why don't you try some woman your own age… No girl in her right mind would want anyone who looked like you.'
Her voice was tinged with a cruelty he had not heard before. He dressed hurriedly and left as she continued to jeer at him. Later in his own flat, he tried to reassure himself. She had talked that way because he had nearly raped her, or thought he would. She had just hit back because he had forced himself on her. But her harsh insults still grated on his nerves and he could not forget them. For months afterwards, he came home late, hiding behind large supermarket bags in order to avoid her eyes. And the smiling faces of other girls. In time it became obvious that everybody in the building knew what happened and he was afraid to even go near the swimming pool.
When an unidentified tenant scrawled 'dirty old man' on his door one night, he looked for a new apartment. Ever since that day he had looked at pretty young girls with a mixture of fear and longing. Patty O'Hare, for in stance, who was in one of his classes, made him so horny that he could barely stand it. She came to his class in The Romantic Age of English Literature wearing either a tight miniskirt that drove him nuts or short shorts that revealed that she had legs that nearly went up to her throat. After a class with her, he found himself scratching at his crotch and his temples would ache. But he so feared her recognizing his desire that he went out of his way to be kind to her. Even to the point of giving her grades she did not deserve.
When Mara had arrived, he had seen her on her initial tour of the departmental rooms and immediately he had experienced a strong desire for her, That night as he lay on his chaste cot, he had visions of stripping her naked, of laying her, of feeling her breasts in his mouth, The sensation was so powerful in his mind that he had actually been able to taste her skin or imagined that he could. It was a sweet taste of toasted almonds. And then he thought of how her pussy would taste and smelt 'Like oranges,' he said aloud. 'Her cunt tastes like oranges and smells like freshly laundered sheets,'
But again he had been extra careful with her at the picnic. He had been amused at Tom Leonard's erection and the stain of semen on his trunks. But he had envied him the experience of pressing his penis against her, of pumping it against the beautiful girl's pussy and he had had his own erection to contend with as he looked at the Eurasian girl in her fetching tight shorts.
Yet he had not dared really make a blunt move. True, he might have some luck with her in time better luck once she did not have the American mentality that automatically thought of him as a dirty old man. Maybe in time, he had thought, he might even get into her pants. But there was no reason why he couldn't make a feint at it now, he told himself. So he had wandered out after her in the woods following her encounter with Leonard. He was half hoping he could score, but in his heart of hearts he did not really expect it. She would probably look upon him as a dirty old man too, he told himself, resignedly.
His only chance might be that she needed a friend. But when he had caught Mara making love to Ruth Peter everything had changed. For one thing he felt triumphantly that he now had the upper hand. He did not think of what he planned as sexual blackmail, only a way to open the door. He would let Mara know that he had seen her having lesbian sex, then he would placate her, quieting her fears.
'Don't worry about it, honey. I won't tell a soul at the school,' he would assure her. 'All I want is for us to be real friends, that's all. The other thing doesn't really concern me. That's between you and Ruth.'
After brooding about his plan for several days, Mills decided he needed more proof of the lesbian relationship before he could go any further. Supposing what he had seen in the woods had been a one-shot? Supposing Mara had somehow been forced into it by Ruth Peter? It would alter his plan. Besides, he was no longer positive about what he had seen that day at the picnic.
He had drunk too much of that spiked punch, even though he knew he had a low tolerance for liquor; a couple of strong drinks of any booze made him a little dizzy. Had he really heard all those terms of endearment, he asked himself over and over again?
Had Ruth Peter, that formidable cold bitch of the frozen north as he sometimes referred to her in his own mind, actually said to Mara Blake: 'Tell me what I'm doing to you' after sucking the Eurasian's cunt? Had she sucked Mara's cunt? He recalled dimly that Ruth had said aloud: 'I want you to use the old English words… they give me pleasure.' And then had not Mara replied: 'I love it when you suck my little pink cunt?' That was what he thought she had replied. And then Ruth had said something like 'my cunt is a bit yellowish isn't it?' Or had Mara said that? Goddamn it, he really wasn't sure of anything.
Maybe he hadn't seen them go down on each other or have all that sex talk. Maybe he had been victimized by his damned habit of promoting sexual fantasies in his head, especially when he had too much booze. He realized that he had to get more evidence, nail down his memories somehow before making any dangerous moves.
The incident with the girls in his apartment building had made him extraordinarily cautious. For a while he contented himself with spying on Mara and Ruth during school hours. He would follow them into the school library when they entered together, hoping for some sign of a strong tie between them. During lunch hours he would sit and watch them in a corner of the cafeteria. Near enough to listen.
Nothing happened. Their conversation was what anyone would expect: talk about school problems, the illness of certain teachers and occasionally comments about books they had read or films they had seen. He scrutinized their faces as they sat together. He saw nothing. He was disappointed and told himself they were being cautious in public. Besides they were often with other teachers. What could they do?
But he would not give up the thought that he had seen them naked. True, he was drunk but he had seen them. The image of their naked bodies remained fixed in his mind. The only way he would know for sure, however, was to catch them in. the act.
At first he concentrated on Mara Blake's apartment, thinking that the chairman might go there. But she seldom did and the few times he did see her go upstairs, there was nothing he could do. He could hardly stand in the hall and peep through the keyhole to see if they were in bed together. It would have to be done at Ruth's house. The building had ample grounds around it and was sufficiently isolated. He would follow them there and find out what the hell was going on. One thing he knew for damned sure, he told himself. H those girls are screwing around, one or both of them were going to count him as part of the ongoing orgy.
The night he nearly collided with Mike, he had seen Mara stop in the English office when he had gone there to get some test papers. He pretended he was engrossed in the test questions but listened carefully. Mara moved up to Ruth's desk, smiled and asked questioningly 'About nine?'
Ruth's voice though low pitched was petulant. 'No, that's too late, make it earlier.'
'But you'll be getting dress fittings anyhow,' Mara said placatingly. 'Why crowd yourself Ruth. We can-'
She stopped suddenly realizing that although Joe Mills was at a desk several feet away and had his nose buried in the test papers, he might possibly be listening.
'We'll go over your textbook suggestions when you can make it, Mara,' Ruth suddenly said in a formal chairman of the English Department voice. 'Don't make it too late, that's all, because I get to bed early and I have some reports to finish for the Modem Language Association seminar.'
'Thank you, Ruth,' Mara said gratefully and left quickly.
As she did she shot a suspicious glance at Joe who kept his head down. But he was laughing inwardly. Neither of the two women was much of an actress, he thought. It was so obvious that they were faking dialogue for his benefit. He was going to join them tonight as an uninvited guest, he told himself, and several hours later he did.
What he saw through the sliver of window made him feel very good and very excited. The two women were in each other's arms and kissing each other passionately, running their tongues in each other's mouths. Then they fell apart and lay on the bed side by side, their round breasts palpitating. He could see Ruth wipe her forehead
