Chapter 9

Between them they made short work of the final touches that remained to Nan's clean up of Mary Alice's house. Myra pitched in with a will; as they passed each other in the hall, once, Nan was astonished to see her new friend blushing body. Well, why not! she said, after her first reaction. That was quite a session we had there a few minutes ago....

Rather than have to change twice, Nan slipped into a fetching dashiki she'd picked up in an Algerian-owned store in Nice and wore that to class. It proved much less awkward undressing in the little studio room; all she had to do was step out of her sandals, slip the robe over her head, and she was ready for the pose.

Myra wanted a semi-seated attitude out of her, with her seated well forward on the seat, facing slightly to her right, right leg flexed, left leg extended well behind her. This, she explained, gave the body a nice long line and would set the pupils severe problems in the rendering of muscular masses under stress. Myra kept her so busy, moving this hand here, setting that foot there, as the students bustled about, setting up their own easels and preparing their palettes, that she hardly had time to be embarrassed at being naked in front of a roomful of strangers.

Not that it was that much like being naked in front of other people at all-at first. The eyes that turned her way, once the setups had been completed and the students were ready to paint, were intent, focused upon her body as an abstract thing-a problem in composition, in line, in color balance. If it were only for the students, she thought, posing would be a thoroughly boring exercise, made tolerable only by the delightfully comfortable feeling induced by the combination of the cooling evening air coming in through the open door and the warmth of the tights focused upon her. Marie-Helene had been right about one thing: it felt better than any clothing she could wear.

And the feeling of being no more than an inanimate object on display was quickly dispelled by the warm glances Myra gave her whenever she chanced to look Nan's way-which was often. Her hot gaze swept across her body like a caressing hand; the raw sensuality of it sent little chills of pleased titillation through Nan's body, and brought out goose bumps quickly erased by the warm lights.

There was a little patio set up outside, between the little houses; in it an assortment of tables and chairs had been set up to allow the teachers and students, when time permitted, to eat lunch under the trees, or hold impromptu classes al fresco, or just take their ease in the deep shade. Nan, her eyes fixed on the rear of the classroom by her pose, could see through it now, and could see that she was on display to the small group gathered there in the rapidly cooling air of the early evening. And somehow she found their gaze sexy, challenging, where the students' semi-professional air of detachment was like being monitored by robot television cameras. She could make out faces out there still; few of them were people she'd met yet Once she saw Louise, the office girl, pass, a worried look on her face. Nan wished she would look in, but she went single-mindedly on her way. Once, too, Lloyd die dance teacher passed; he looked in and waved in a friendly fashion, his mouth making a round O, his eyebrows lifting comically.

Then, a little later, just after her break, she saw Avram the ceramics man look in. She half expected him to blush with embarrassment; he had this air of shyness yon sometimes see in very large men. But Avram's warm grin of recognition gave way to a very frank, very unashamedly sexual appraisal of her body, placed so enticingly on display for him by the pose (which suddenly felt very, very naked indeed, spreading her apart the way it did; she knew the position of her legs left her slit wide open in its little bush of red hair, exposing the pouting pink lips for everyone to see). Most especially, his eyes lingered hungrily on her pretty little breasts, which the mechanics of the pose caused to hang as temptingly as fruit on a tree. She was pleased with this; she was proud of the perfect shape of her little breasts, and was always flattered to see they were getting attention. Her answering smile to Avram carried an air of open invitation that-the moment he'd waved goodbye and slipped out the door-surprised her again.

Strange things, indeed, were happening to her sexually these days. Frightened at first by the realization of her attraction to other women-which she'd never suspected-she'd retreated into a frantic search for new, preferably strange, men to please. She'd had a couple of false starts, and new confirmation of her sexual ambiguity in the brief seduction by Helga the maid, and then she'd done some rather stupid things trying to prove her heterosexuality to herself in France, on holiday.

These had only confirmed the fact that the sort of man you meet when you're trying to prove something to yourself is very un-likely to provide even a satisfying ephemeral relationship, and'-in the case of Marie-Helene-confirmed her growing suspicion that she was, indeed, very strongly attracted to the bodies of women.

Yet the mere fact of having sex with a girl was not enough in itself, it seemed. There seemed to be something in there about-oh, vulnerability, sharing, giving, maybe even the abstraction called love. Certainly what she felt for Mary Alice-a deep friendship, combined with affection and a surprisingly strong sense of protectiveness-was something more complex than mere sexual attraction. That...that was what she felt for Myra, for instance. That was what was giving her little twinges of sexual perturbation every time Myra's glance landed on her, now, and lingered for a second.

After all (she reminded herself), she'd been-was it only an hours or so ago?-quite recently locked in the most intimate of embraces with the girl. God, her very flesh tingled at the thought of it! That long, hot and incredibly expert tongue of hers!

Now, however, as she looked up, Max the sculptress entered. A one-sided grin came over her face as she looked up at Nan; somehow the mannish grin fit the striking Slavic face with its marvelous aquiline nose and wide cheekbones. Now, returning the once-over gaze Max gave her bare body, she noticed Max was actually quite a trimly built girl-with a lean-lined, athletic body that did not run to mannishness at all filling out the dark jumpsuit she wore very fetchingly.

Watching her own appraising gaze, Max smiled with a wry amusement Then, squeezing Myra's shoulder, she came forward to speak to Nan in a low voice-so low that Nan had to watch her lips to make out what she was saying.

"Hi, baby," she said. "You look just luscious. I can hardly keep myself from dipping down there and giving you a lick right now."

"I...." Nan swallowed. She knew she must be blushing hotly now.

"Look, sweetheart," the short-haired girl said, looking Nan hard in the eye and pressing her bare foot warmly with a strong but gentle hand, "I have to get busy on that commission tomorrow night or I'm in trouble. Why don't you stop by and I'll at least get it set up? Maybe we can combine business with...a little pleasure." And her strong fingertips tickled the sole of Nan's foot lightly. "Say, tomorrow at seven? Okay?"

"I...I'll let you know," Nan said. "How can I reach you?"

"Ask Louise. I'm in the office phone book. And look, hon. I'm looking forward to seeing you. Right?" And, winking at Nan, she gave her calf a familiar pat on the way out

Nan's head was virtually spinning. She hadn't had so much action since...since she and Ed were young lovers, at the peak of their sexual attraction. And here all of a sudden she had taken two lovers in a single day and made a virtual assignation with a third. The thought was enough to take your breath away, she told herself. (She would just dearly love to be able to reach down and have a swipe at her crotch right now; sensitive as it was, she was sure it was wet and juicy right this moment-and, she thought with another blush, open for everyone to see the fact)

She had just closed her eyes, trying to get her mind off the admittedly very tempting subject when a commotion outside-women's voices, talking very animatedly about something-caught her attention. She looked up. Myra, her brow knit dropped her critique of a student's setup and went to the door. The voices grew louder; Myra went out disappeared.

When she came back her face was totally different There was an expression of shock and concern on it and, looking up at Nan, she said, "Excuse me. Nan. Could you....? "

Nan looked up. "Me?"

"Yes," she said. "Put your robe on. I dunk we have an emergency."

Nan stood up, stretching. Then she picked up the dasbiki. "Emergency?"

"Yes...there's been a highway accident...Mary Alice...the hospital just called.. . "

Nan's face wait white as a sheet "Oh, God," she said. She dropped the robe; her knees shook; she had all she could do to keep from collapsing on the floor.

"Quick, honey," Myra said, "get yourself together. Louise is going to drive a few of us down to the hospital When she talked to the doctor just now, the chances were no better than fifty-fifty."

Nan picked up the robe, tossed it over her head. She stepped into her slippers. "Oh, yes...by all means...let's go...let's go right now."

It was no time for getting in to see her, the nurse said. Things were still in emergency status, and two young medics from the emergency ward were working like demons to patch things up for the time being and halt die body's wild, almost uncontrolled reaction to physical trauma. There was a strong possibility of damage to internal organs; there was considerable internal bleeding. The possibility of temporary or permanent paralysis had been discussed.

The first of the doctors to emerge had much the same things to say; his hand made a comme ci-comme ca gesture, eloquent in its noncommittal futility, when asked what her chances were. His face was flushed and tired-looking.

Nan, walking about in a daze, saw Louise arguing with the woman at the reception desk; she wandered closer to see what was happening. "Can I help?" she said.

Louise turned to her with a worried, harried look. "Oh. Nan, you wouldn't know what Mary Alice's insurance situation is, would you?"

"It's just a matter of making sure someone, some agency, is responsible," the receptionist said. "If she's insured, there's no bother, you know...."

"I.. . " Nan said, her hand wiping her forehead. She was all over cold sweat I'll be responsible," she said. "I don't know about her insurance...that's all right. I'll take care of it"

"Ah...right" the woman in white said. "Your name?" Nan told her. Then she remembered she hadn't brought wallet or ID or anything. "I...residence Miami Beach," she said. "Please have the credit people look me up in Dun and Bradstreet and then call this number tomorrow. Louise? Could you give her the school number? Right Thanks, dear. That's Mrs. Edward P. M-I-K-E-L-L, Miami Beach. I'll...I'll take care of it."

The nurse gave her a skeptical look-her in her beach sandals and dashiki. She didn't look responsible. Then she shrugged and nagged the file card for action tomorrow.

Back at the house, Nan sat disconsolately on the big couch in Mary Alice's upstairs parlor-she guessed you'd call it a living room, the way the house was divided up, with the bottom floor all broken up with offices-and stared at the floor between her feet. There was broken glass down there; she'd have to remember to clean up after herself before somebody stepped on that and cut her feet. Clumsy of her anyhow, dropping a full glass of straight gin like that. Maybe it didn't matter, though. There was only herself to get hurt by it now. Mary Alice could be dead by now. She might...just might...never walk again anyhow, the doctors had told her....

She'd been on a crying jag ever since the girls had left Myra had wanted to stay with her, but she'd shooed her out-first pleadingly, then angrily. She didn't want solace now. Most particularly, she didn't want anything there to remind her of the tremendous burden of guilt she was carrying right now.

After all, right about the time Mary Alice's little bus, coming down the turnpike-no, they called them freeways here, didn't they?-had blown a tire and rolled over sue times, crushing the top of the little van in on her, she, Nan, had been rolling in Myra's arms, having the time of her life. She'd betrayed her friend-and so soon!-and she didn't want Myra there to remind her of the fact...Shuddering, she tipped up the new glass and let the raw gin burn its way down her throat

God, she thought now, how much did it take to put you out of your misery? She'd put away the best part of a bottle of ninety-proof gin already, and showed no sign of being able to relax into comforting and consoling oblivion. She drank again, shuddering at the vile taste of the stuff. Then she gagged a little as she swallowed it down. God, she thought, she was going to vomit it all up before it got her drunk enough to go to sleep....

Cursing hoarsely at it (she'd cried so long, so hard, that she could hardly talk now), she held the glass up and poured it full again from the bottle, spilling it all over her dashiki. Then she dropped the bottle, letting it roll away across the uneven old floor. "Damn," she said. "Damned filthy...thing...." And she ripped the dashiki np the middle, crushing the thin cloth into a ball and heaving it disgustedly into the far corner of the room. The place was a shambles already, it seemed; and that after she'd worked so hard to get it clean today. God! God! She didn't want it all spic and span right now. She wanted...she wanted to burn the place down. She wanted....

"My," said a low, harsh voice from the door. "That's quite a sight"

The voice was so deep and impersonal that it could have been either a man's or a woman's. Nan, in her sodden and uncaring state, didn't bother to look up for a moment

When she did it was to see the caller stepping into the room. She blinked in the dim light; the figure looked familiar from somewhere-lush, ample curves tucked tightly into jeans and a close-fitting jersey, braless breasts of perfect and voluptuous conformation, their nipples sticking pertly through the soft cloth, a dark unsmiling face with die bone structure of a great beauty only slightly gone to seed through ten-maybe twenty-years of hard living.

"Hey," the newcomer said. "Did I interrupt a party? Where's Mary Alice?"

"She...she's in the hospital," Nan said, not rising. "She had a bad accident today."

"Jesus," the girl said. What was the name? Nora? Zora? That was it, Zora. The dancer. "Wow. And you're her friend that's staying here, right?"

"Yes, I...." Nan tried to sit up straight, but only succeeded in spilling her glass.

"Hey, look," the girl said. "You feel pretty bad, right? You better stay away from that stuff, honey. You need something that'll soothe you, not that junk. That'll just make you feel worse. Look, hon, I know what's in Mary Alice's medicine cabinet. I ought to, for Christ's sake. Let me fix you something that'll make you feel great, huh? You just sit there."

Nan sat looking after her, watching the firm globes of her incredibly expressive buttocks working under the tight pants. God! she thought, a sudden twinge of sexual desire breaking through her gloom. How she'd love to get her fingers on those things! What amazing thighs! What....

"Say," said the girl's matter-of-fact voice through the door, "my name's Zora. I teach the belly-dance classes here. What's yours?"

"Nan," Nan said. "Mary Alice calls me Annie. We used to be friends in school when we were kids." She was beginning to come alive a little now.

"Annie, huh? I think I heard about you. Mary Alice was saying somebody was coming to visit" She came back in, holding up two glasses full of an odd-colored liquid. "Mama Zora's original pick-me-up," she said "Enough there to kill a horse...or cure whatever ails you. I hope you don't mind: I fixed myself one too. God, I could use a pickup. I've had a hell of a day." She handed Nan a glass and kicked off her own shoes before sitting down.

Nan looked down at herself. God, she was naked! She couldn't remember how she'd got that way. Well perhaps it didn't matter. She looked at the strange girl, blinking.

"Come on there, honey," the girl said. "Down she goes. Here's lookin' up your kilt" She touched glasses with Nan, who sat there stupidly looking at her. "L'chaim"

Nan watched the girl shudder wildly at the first drink. Then she took a sip of her own. It was...terrible! She shuddered and made an equally awful face. Then...then...even this quickly...the strangest feeling came over her. Her head reeled. "I...my God," she said.

"Yeah, it's good stuff, isn't it? It's the old Zora Zap-per. I used to give it to Mary Alice when she was feeling low. Gee, that's terrible about her getting hurt Tell me about it huh?" She turned up the glass again. "Zowie. Oh, God, that makes me feel marvelous." She put the glass down and, oblivious of Nan's shocked stare, pulled her jersey up over her breasts and began to massage her big-nippled bosom.

It was...strange. That was the only word for it.

Nan took another drink, shuddered again, and let the strange-heavenly!-feeling steal over her again. She looked again at Zora. She had her eyes closed and was twiddling her long nipples between her fingers, obviously enjoying every bit of it "M-my," Nan said, her voice corning out sounding positively unreal. "You...you're gorgeous." She was, too. Those were the most perfectly formed breasts she'd ever seen. And the strange girl knew it, too. A smile of recognition went over her face, breaking through the look of mindless semi-ecstasy that accompanied her single-minded kneading of her breasts.

"Yeah..." she said. "Best old bod in town. Still is. Oh, wow, that's good stuff...Oh, Jesus, baby, you don't mind if I get comfortable too, do you?" And, not waiting for an answer, she stood and jerked the sweater over her head. Her upper torso was sensational. "Drink up, sweetie. That's good for you." Her hands went to her pants. Then she stopped. "Christ, let's get some music in this joint." She went over to Mary Alice's hi-fi set in the comer and turned it on; when the carrier wave came up she twirled the dials until a pounding, snarling, animal rock band came on, deafeningly loud, almost oppressively sensual. "God, that's good. Oh, my head's spinning." But she showed little sign of it; there was not only a sinuous grace in her funky animal movements as she slid into a sexy bare-breasted dance to the dark and mindless music, but a complete control of her actions.

Nan drank another draught God! That was strong stuff! She stood up herself. Strange: whatever it was it did little to make her dizzy, the way the drink she'd take in before would. She could almost not feel the gin now. Only the strange new mixture-heady, exhilarating....

"Hey, kid," Zora said. "You're kind of cute." Her rounded hips shook with savage abandon under the tight jeans. She reached out now and touched Nan lightly on the nipple; then she went back to the wild dance. Midway in a series of gyrations she stopped and wiggled the pants down her legs to step out of them, naked now except for a gold stomacher. From the stomacher hung a strange medallion, dangling just above her rich curling bush of pubic hair.

And, as Nan watched, the voluptuous belly of the girl began to quiver with a rich and primitive rhythm; the stomacher shook, its gold chain links traveling across her rich belly in ecstatic ripples. And on the silky surface of her belly, above the lush forest of her dark-haired pubis, the medallion danced hypnotically. "There...." the girl said, her voice low and mesmeric. "There...isn't it something now....Don't you want it, baby...look at that big luscious cunt there, sugar...you never had anything tike it, baby...it tastes like Mama's milk...and I can wiggle it inside like I can wiggle it outside...I can twist a man's cock off with that thing, sweetheart...I can write my name on your tongue with my clit, cookie...just try me...now drink it down, sugar...just tip up the glass...it's good for you...it's good for you...it'll get you hotter than a pistol...and then we're going...in the bedroom...you and me...and you're gonna eat

Mama's box...until the dawn comes up....Yeah...oh, yeh...And you're gonna love it...Yeah, drink up, sweetie...watch the medal now . . see the pretty gold medal...I can't take it off, you know...it's welded on there permanently.... you can't take your eyes off it, can you?...No, now look at me...watch me open and close my pussy...yeah...I'm gonna kiss you on the mouth with that...I'm gonna fuck you in the mouth with my button, cookie...look at it now...it's sticking its little red head out now...oh, isn't that delicious...wouldn't you give anything to suck that...well, you will...and I'm getting hot for you to do it...oh, look how long he is...oh, he's mama's boy...he's the longest little clit in the world, and he's hot as a pistol...come on, now, sugar baby, why don't you go down there and eat him...give him a lick...you never had anything tike it...I can balance a drink on your head and fuck you in the mouth and not spill a drop even when I come...yeah, baby, down on your knees...down on your knees...tike my little buck-naked slave...that's what you are...like I'm Artie's slave...down on your knees before me...now cross your hands behind your back...and stretch your neck out toward me...now hold your mouth tike yon were kissing somebody...and I'm gonna...put my button right there...and I'm gonna shake it...and I'm gonna fuck it.. and I'm gonna grind that coffee...and you're gonna get me off, baby...yeah, kiss--kiss....Yeah, hold your lips out...now don't you use your tongue...until I tell you to...yeah, now...there...there...in...and...out...and in...and out . . and in...and out...and you can open up a little now...and now stick out your tongue...and gimme a lick...when I bring the button by...oh, yeah....Ohhhh, yeahhhhhhhh......"

Time passed. Nan was out of it most of the time, doing as she was told obediently, like a slave, bending to kiss the strange woman's crotch when told, sucking her out, eating her juices, even, on command, coming around the wonderful rump to stick her tongue deep into the girl's anus. Scouring the girl's naked body from neck to toes with her tongue as she shouted ever more harsh, more rude commands to her. All of it with her hands crossed at the wrists behind her back, as a slave's hands might be. She loved it; she deserved it; she had been bad, and had to be punished and humiliated for having betrayed her friend. It was so fitting. It was so good...and the wonderful stuff Zora had given her to drink was so warming...so comforting....