Chapter 11
Greg couldn't answer. He couldn't talk. He didn't know what to do. He knew he was hot, all right. Who wouldn't, after seeing what he'd just seen, have a hell of a hard-on? But he still couldn't accept what he'd witnessed.
He didn't know whether to simply get up and walk out or whether to punch David's face out of shape. No, that wouldn't be fair. After all, Karen was the one who had brought it on herself. She'd wanted it and it had been her more than David who had made certain she would get it.
Greg stood, his knees somewhat weak, and he looked around. From her place on the mat Karen looked up at him. He knew there was anger on his face but she didn't seem particularly worried. She was still engrossed in the rosy aftermath of sexual satisfaction. She really didn't give a damn.
He couldn't blame her for this because she'd been serviced by an expert. If she'd been weak, she'd been no weaker than he. He licked his lips and nodded to the others.
"I'm getting out of here. I want to be alone for a while, while I think things out."
Sigrid began to rise with him but he waved her back. She sat down again on the mat. "Don't do anything foolish, lover," the Amazon warned. "Remember, if you both fall you can't blame one another."
He nodded. "That's what I'm going to think about. See you all later-possibly."
He turned and marched out of the little gymnasium, through the apartment and out the front door. It was dark outside in the corridor and he could see the twinkling lights on the beach beyond the pool. The pool itself was a glowing rectangle of blue-green light It looked very inviting.
Back in his own apartment he went immediately to the kitchen where he opened the cupboard, took out a bottle and splashed whisky into a water glass. When it was half filled he sat down, elbows on the table, and drank deeply. His eyes watered from the strong stuff and he shook his head.
He sat and stared at the calendar on the opposite wall. It was a winter scene somewhere where they had a deep forest and a hell of a lot of snow. A deer stood in the snow, one hoof raised, as though it were waiting for a city bus to stop and make a pickup.
He stared at the calendar without really looking at the thing. He was thinking deep thoughts. Was it all over with him and Karen? Could their marriage survive such a day as this? Could they look one another in the face again and make love?
He admitted that they'd both learned, and he was anxious to try out his new skills. Sigrid and David were master teachers and Karen and Greg hadn't been dull pupils. They'd sharpened their sexual prowess and he knew they could make it well together.
But that wasn't the point. They could make it, but would this satisfy them? After what he'd seen could he ever again get a thrill out of fucking his wife? Would he be back and remember David and his gigantic prick sticking into her pussy-and into her angelic face?
He sighed aloud and shook his head. Then he took another pull of whisky. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to commit himself too hastily and that was what Sigrid was warning him about. He'd be foolish simply to pack his bags and march out of the apartment.
He licked whisky from his lips as he slumped in his chair. He didn't know what to do. He admitted that he was still worked up, that he was hot from watching the bizarre scene. Sigrid had thoroughly unlocked him, and the David-Karen orgy had kept the door opened. His prick was still stiff and he wished he knew what to do about that
He heard a sound and he cocked his head. The front door was being opened, slowly, cautiously. He listened as it clicked shut and then he waited. All right, so she was coming back to him, to sound him out to plead with him not to run away from their marriage.
He didn't know whether he was pleased or not so he merely sat, watching the entrance to the kitchen, until she appeared. He was startled by her appearance.
"Hello," she murmured in a little girl's voice.
He nodded as he sighed again.
"I thought you might need company."
He shrugged. "I don't care, really."
"Maybe I could make you something to eat? Would you like bacon and eggs?"
He blinked at the child. At fifteen Diana was half child-half woman, but she definitely had the sensitivity of a mature woman. She knew how to handle herself. , Again he shrugged. "I'm not hungry."
"Some scene." She angled her head toward the apartment next door.
"Some scene," he repeated.
"What did you think about it? I mean how do you feel after all that?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he muttered as he ran his fingers through his hair.
He looked at Diana. She was a pretty girl, small with a firm body, much like her brother, except that she had more pronounced curves, of course. Her breasts looked small under her floppy man's shirt, but there were definitely buds inside that bodice. Her hips were still slim, but beginning to flare. She had her mother's rusty hair and green eyes, but they were purer in color and certainly the glitter in the eyes was much more innocent.
At last he said, "There's bacon and eggs in the refrigerator."
"Goody," she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "I'm starving, too." , He watched her lean into the refrigerator to look and he liked the small tightness of her bottom inside her jeans, jeans which looked as though they'd been painted on. Her legs would be thin and straight, just maturing to womanly thighs and calves, he knew.
He watched as she worked at the stove, getting out the aluminum frying pan and then laying out the strips of bacon. After a short while she placed them on a paper towel and then began to cook the eggs. She scrambled a half dozen or more and then she put all the food on two plates. It made a pleasant heap of delicious odors.
She served him and then she sat across from him with her own plate. They ate in silence, and as they ate Diana began to talk. As her spirits rose she became less sober, less mature, sounding more like a child again. She told him about school, about her teachers, how she fought with David over who got to use the bathroom first. She really was only a kid at heart and he was glad to watch her relax with him and begin to really enjoy herself.
Before long their plates were cleaned up. She took hers to the sink and then she came to Greg's side of the table. She moved gracefully, like the deer in the calendar might move if it were given life. She leaned over his shoulder to take his plate and his arm accidentally came up to brush across her child's breast.
It was surprisingly soft and his elbow sank into a comfortable heat She made a small sound and he turned his head up toward her at once. Their faces were only an inch apart. Tm sorry," he muttered.
"Gee, that's all right" She was still the little girl with her breathless voice.
"I didn't mean to do that."
"Sure you didn't."
She retrieved his plate and he watched her rinsing the dishes at the sink. Yes, she had a good little body. Greg was hot and, damn it, he wanted her. But he had to keep his hands off. He realized she'd probably had plenty of sex performance for her tender age, but he wasn't going to contribute to her delinquency. He had a sense of decency that he was going to cling to, no matter how battered it had become in only one day.
When she was finished she turned and looked at him. "I wonder what's happening in 5-B."
"Who cares?" he blurted, his face long.
"I think you do."
He sat at the table still, his head in his hands. She moved behind him and he could hear her bare feet slap slightly on the linoleum. "Have you got a headache?"
"In a way, yes."
"Let me take care of it for you, Mr. Eastman. Mom showed me how to do it when she's not feeling right."
She was leaning over him from the back and her cool, young fingers rubbed his temples. As she worked her body came closer and soon he could feel her budding breasts rubbing across his back. As she worked he felt his temperature going up. His prick swiftly came back to life. He was hard and ready, but he had to hold himself back for Karen...or perhaps Sigrid. Surely not this kid.
As she moved back and forth, and her fingers made their circles, he felt his other problems drop away in favor of his passion and a certain animal peace of mind. Her hands went to his chest, inside his shirt, and there she continued to make stroking circles. She rubbed his nipples until they were tingling.
She opened a few buttons on his shirt and continued her rubbing down to his belly. She was leaning over his shoulder, her breasts pressing hard now, and her face was right next to his. She was breathing hard but he believed that was only because she was working hard to help him.
He lifted his head and their ears were pressed together. He turned his face and their lips met as she turned toward him in the same instant. They were very tender virginal lips, even though he knew it was impossible for Diana to have been a virgin.
Their kiss was tender and long and when he broke it Greg spoke. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to do that. I forgot who I am and how young you are."
"I'm young, but I'm growing up fast, Mr. "Eastman," she said in her child's voice.
"It's too soon. Come back in a few years."
"But I'm here now," she murmured in a lower voice that didn't sound at all childish.
Then her hands went lower and he gasped when her fingers closed over his pouch. "And you've got a nifty hard-on. I really dig older men with hard-ons."