Chapter 3
When Cass Bigelow finished with the day's interviews at the high school which had been first on the itinerary, she decided to investigate the small, northern town. When she made the decision, she instinctively thought of Don Haywood and considered once again asking him to join her. But she decided against it. Don had been quiet during the trip to Bay City. But Cass sensed that his quietness was not caused by unhappiness. He looked youthful and gay, more this way than at any time that she could remember. And the quietness he attained seemed a part of happiness. She decided against disturbing it. She would give him time. Perhaps the absence from Blair was just what Don needed to spark him to life and activity, to rescue him from premature age and decay.
Slowly, Cass walked the several blocks to the old fashioned hotel where she and Don had registered. She smiled at the memory of Don and herself registering, standing side by side, he, she was sure, very aware of the closeness of her body, aware of that and very sensitive to the sexual connotations hotel registration provoked. She smiled thinking about it. Then she wondered why she yearned so much for Don, a man who seemed not the least interested in her. She created an image of his dark, handsome features, seeing, as if they were real, his dark eyes, close-cropped dark hair, his six-foot stature, the wide shoulders, muscled arms, hard chest, and good, strong legs.
Cass sighed and destroyed the mental image.
When she arrived at the hotel, she secured her key at the desk and went immediately to her room on the third floor. As the elevator glided past the second floor, Cass again thought of Don and wondered how long it would be before he finished his interviews and returned to the hotel.
The elevator stopped. Cass departed it, moved down the narrow corridor, then opened her door and stepped inside.
The room was stuffy. It was hot. Cass went to the window, wrestled it a moment, then freed it and threw it high. She breathed deeply, but there was little breeze to cool her. She decided upon a shower; yes, she would shower then investigate the town.
Cass drew back from the window. While she continued to face it, she undressed. She slid the zipper of her dress down, then wiggled her body out of it. There followed her half-slip and bra. When she dropped the bra to the floor, she cupped her breasts in her hands, held them tightly for a moment, feeling the stickiness they had acquired. Gently, for the barest moment, she kneaded her hot flesh, then pinched lightly at the large, red, nipples. She felt a quiver at her thighs. It was a sad reminder of how long it had been since she had known the delight of a man. And as she thought of it, she regretted once again the vow she had made to herself when she began her faculty position at Blair State nearly seven months earlier, that vow that forbade herself sexual indiscretions until she was secure in her new employment.
Cass unclasped her breasts. Then she wiggled her hips out of brief, bikini panties, unfastened her stockings from the garter belt, slid belt and stockings from her legs and was at last free of all encumbrance. She stretched her arms high above her head, enjoying the feel of nakedness and freedom. She made a half-turn and looked at herself in the mirror. Then she swung her arms downward and sighed. She liked the looks of her body as it relaxed, the way she looked both soft and firm; opposite conditions that seemed so compatible for the giving of love.
Cass sighed once more and moved close enough to the window so that she could look out it without herself being seen from below. A few people moved down the street. Several men loitered in front of a bar. Cass recognized them at once as men who worked on the lake ships. They looked hard and rough. Cass felt a quiver of interest at her thighs and she wondered why she had never been able to properly equate the differences of her desires in men, the way she liked both those who were intellectuals and those who were muscled and rough and mean.
Cass stared at the men for a full minute, then turned and left the window. She went to the bathroom and adjusted the shower to the temperature she desired. Then, without even the protection of a shower cap, she stepped into the sharp, tingling spray.
She soaped her entire body with a large, soft sponge. Then she rinsed, turning and raising her face to the shower in order to know its full, crashing contact. Then she turned and soaped again. She took a lot of time with her body. She delayed the action of the sponge at her breasts, rubbed it lovingly there until her nipples elongated and hardened. The puff of them made her again think of men, sex with them, and the denial she had imposed upon herself. And again she remembered how she had been firm with herself about the pleasures of men. Why? she questioned. Was self-denial a part of some subconscious resistance or resentment? Of course not, she told herself. It was as simple as avoiding trouble. Men had caused her trouble in the past. She had lost good faculty positions because of men. She liked Blair and wanted to continue working there. So, until she was well-oriented in her work, secure and valuable to the institution, she had decided to refrain from sexual commitments. Cass lowered the sponge to her thighs and massaged vigorously there. And as she felt the quick sensation of thrill come to her, she knew that given the opportunity she would chuck her high resolves, re-welcome men to her body and say to hell with Blair and everything. She slowed her pace and rubbed more gently. She felt the pin-pricks of excitement nick at every part of her body. She felt her breasts bloating larger. She felt the muscles of her lower stomach tighten as if in readiness for some crashing explosion. And she knew that she could cause that explosion, that she, at her will, could rip her body apart while she entertained mental fantasies of herself with a man and in an act of love. But it was a poor substitute, often indulged in, but always without full satisfaction.
Cass dropped the sponge, rinsed once more, then shut off the shower and stepped from the tiled cubicle. She wrapped herself in a huge turkish towel, pulling it tightly around her body and tucking the ends inside to form a sarong effect. Then she took a smaller towel and rubbed hard at her wet, golden hair. It was when she pulled the towel free from her hair and dropped it to the floor that she heard the gentle knock at the door in the other room.
She stood perfectly still. She felt excited as she wondered if it might be Don Haywood. Quickly, she glanced at the towel which encased her body. She smiled, thinking of the shock and fright it would cause him. Then she hurried to the door as the knock resumed.
Cass felt the strange equal parts of disappointment and pleasure when she opened the door. A tall colored boy of about seventeen faced her. He smiled self-consciously. He was wearing the tight fitting uniform of a hotel bell hop.
"Oh, my goodness," Cass said, stepping back a pace. "You surprised me."
"Sorry, ma'am," the boy said. "I didn't mean to do that."
Cass glanced to her bare feet, then she took another pace deeper into her small room. The boy's eyes had grown large and curious and they hurried their stare to different parts of her body: to her breasts, to her long, bare legs, and especially, to the sharp line the towel made high at her thighs.
"Well, what can I do for you?" Cass asked. As she spoke, she considered hiding her body behind the partially open door. But she did not for she felt a certain excitement for the boy's obvious surprise and enchantment with her.
"I go to City High School," the boy said.
"Oh, do you?" Cass replied, smiling.
"Yes, ma'am. And you see-well, I'm here as a kind of representative of the other kids."
"And I just bet you want to go to Blair State when you graduate, don't you?"
"No, ma'am." The boy lowered his eyes to the floor, then said, "I'm not planning on college.
But a lot of kids are and lots of them want to go to Blair and that's why I was supposed to call on you."
"To represent them?" Cass asked.
"In a way. We all want you to come to a beach party we've planned in your honor-yours and Professor Haywood's."
"How nice," Cass said. She turned and looked around the room. "Come in and sit down. And tell me, why did this responsibility fall on you?"
"Because I'm handy. I work in the hotel after school."
Cass walked ahead of the boy. When she reached the center of the room, she motioned to a large, leather chair. She smiled as the boy, very aware of her skimpy attire now, moved ahead and seated himself in the chair.
"And what's your name?" Cass asked. "You failed to introduce yourself, young man."
"Oh, sorry," he said. "I'm Ben Doan."
Cass smiled slowly and looked over all of the boy's trim body. He was very handsome, she decided. His coloration was that of shiny chestnuts and it accentuated the hard look of his body. She imagined how he might look if he were taken back several generations, placed in a jungle setting and allowed to romp wild and naked, dancing about a fire. She felt a tingling sensation at her breasts. She recognized that the thought had made her body groan for the boy. She banished it.
"You caught me in the shower," Cass said. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get a robe."
The boy nodded. He looked very disappointed.
When Cass was concealed behind the bathroom door, she looked in the small closet where she had stored some of her clothes. But as quickly as she considered dressing, she discarded the idea. Ben, the handsome colored boy, was much too excited by her near nakedness to be totally denied it, Cass decided. And, she, too, was excited, Cass readily recognized.
She snatched a short, terry cloth robe from a hanger and slipped it onto her body. She looked at herself in the door mirror. The cut of it at her thighs was every bit as effective as the towel had been. She tied the belt at the side, then pushed the throat of the robe apart in a way that exposed much of her breasts. This was even better than the towel, Cass decided. The towel, although it held her tightly and out-lined her body, kept bare flesh concealed. The robe did not. She smiled, remembering the disappointment that had shown in his eyes when she left the room to dress. She wondered if they would flame alive again when she returned.
Cass saw that Ben alerted to the edge of the chair when she returned to the room. And his eyes did look fiery and alive, hot with sudden desire.
Cass had not bothered with slippers. She thought the bareness of her feet added to her total image. And she knew that the way her breasts bounced beneath the robe as she moved added to that image. Then she wondered why she sought to create an image? Was she a tease? She had dismissed men from her life for awhile, why, by the sudden appearance of a teenaged colored boy, did she choose to look wanton and ready and hot? Then she ceased thinking about it. Perhaps the time had come for her to end her sexual abstinence, she considered. And, after all, she thought, who could be more discreet than a high school student?
"All right," she said. "Suppose you tell me all about the party in our honor."
"Well, we planned it to acquaint you with some of the kids who are planning on going to Blair. They thought if you were to get to know them a little bit-socially, you know-well, it might help you in making an evaluation of their applications."
"Very sound thinking," Cass said. She seated herself on a small love seat directly in front of Ben. "Part of our evaluation of applicants does concern their sociability, their poise and relationship with their peers."
His body seemed to tense as Cass curled her bare legs beneath her buttocks. The position was one that encouraged the hem of her robe to pull high above her knees.
"And when is the beach party?" Cass asked.
"Saturday night. We have a real nice lake here. The beach is great. So, will you and Mr. Haywood come?"
She snapped her fingers and looked very upset. Then she said, "Did you say this Saturday night?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Darn it anyway," she said. "I promised to have dinner with your principal and his wife. I'm disappointed. I'd love your party."
"I'm disappointed too," Ben said. He looked it.
"Maybe Professor Haywood can arrange to be there," she said. "I happen to know he turned down the principal's invitation for dinner, but maybe he'll go to your party. He's very devoted to students."
"I hope so," Ben said.
"And maybe I can come over later," Cass told him. "That is, if you don't mind my arriving late."
"We won't mind a bit, ma'am," Ben said, lighting up a bit.
"Now tell me about you, Ben," Cass asked him. She settled more loungefully in her chair. Her breasts, especially the nipple of one, peeked from beneath the rough, turkish material. She intended that it should be so presented. Cass felt more seductive than at any time she could remember, and she knew that it was caused by her long absence of the physical pleasure of a man.
"There's not much to tell," Ben said. "I'm a senior at school. I work here after school. I figure I might stay in the hotel business after I graduate. I like it. Sometimes it's a real ball."
"Really?"
"Yip. Bell hops, well, we get to know all sorts of things about people."
"I bet you do," she said. "And I bet you play football on the school team."
"No, ma'am. I did, but then I quit so I could work here."
"My, how serious minded you must be."
He laughed, then said, "The kids would laugh if they heard you say that. They kinda consider me the playboy in town."
"How exciting," Cass said, leaning forward a bit more while she boosted her hips, causing even more of her robe to creep upward. She stared into his eyes for a moment without speaking, then she said, "You're very interesting. I think colored men are always interesting."
"You do?"
"Oh, my, yes."
"Why's that, Miss Bigelow?"
"Many reasons. You all seem so strong and capable."
"Capable?"
"Yes. Or maybe 'virile' is a better word for it."
"It's a good word all right. What does it mean?"
She trilled a laugh, then said. "You're a senior and you don't know the meaning of the word 'virile'?"
"No, ma'am."
"It means sexually strong. Now don't tell me that you don't know what that means either."
"I dig that all right," he said, grinning, appearing to loosen up a bit, gain confidence that her presence had at first denied him.
"It's true, too, isn't it," Cass asked. Her eyes narrowed and her breathing quickened.
"I don't know about that," he said. "But I've heard that remark made before. And, working in the hotel like I do, well, I've seen some things that kinda make that true."
"I think it's true," she said softly. "I did a thesis on the subject when I was in college and I was quite thorough in my interviews."
"You mean you really asked people about things like that?" he questioned, amazed.
"Of course. These things should always be candidly discussed. It's the only way to gain real knowledge."
Cass breathed deeply and as she exhaled, made a decision. Her body, hot and anxious, forced her to face the very provocative picture of herself, nude except for a robe and in the presence of a strong boy who would, she had little doubt, make a move to seduce her should she give him a chance.
Cass pushed up from the love seat. She moved to the window then turned to Ben. "Come here, will you? I'm planning a tour of the town and you can show me the direction to the lake."
"Why, it's right-." He stopped. His eyes glowed with sudden recognition. Then he stood up and moved to the window.
Cass was sure she could feel heat being transmitted from his body to hers when he stopped next to her. And she actually felt the heat when she maneuvered to press her breast lightly against his forearm. But it was when she felt the quick pressure of his thigh against her body that she knew that he yearned for her. She had not provoked that. The touch had been his answer to her secret call.
"See, Miss Bigelow," Ben said. "The lake's right over there at the end of that second street. You can see it from here."
"Oh, yes, my, but it's beautiful."
"It certainly is, ma'am." Ben pulled a bit away from contact with her body.
Slowly, she turned. She thought of her long denial, the considerations she had made while showering, then she thought of her presence with the strong, young Negro, her presence with him and his very noticeable attraction to her. A tremble ran through her body. Then, forcefully, she denied it, cooled it even as she could not completely cool her thoughts.
"Well, thank you for the invitation," she said, moving away from him. "And if possible, I'll come to the beach party late."
"Late-early-anytime, ma'am, 'cause we'll be mighty happy to have you-all the kids, and especially me."
She smiled. She felt her breasts harden, and she cursed herself for the good sense she used at the moment, the good sense that had she not possessed it would have thrown her together with the colored boy in an affair that she knew would scorch the room, herself, him, everything-scorch the world for her denial had already lasted too long.
Ben apparently recognized the decision Cass had made. He moved to the door. Then he opened it, turned, smiled once more, and left Cass alone.
She looked at the closed door for a long time. She thought of Don Haywood and felt very sad as she wondered if they would ever find each other through the formalities of academic life.