Chapter 6

We woke up about nine. The rain had stopped and bright sunlight came streaming in under the window shade's lower border. Marge stirred sleepily. I kissed her.

"Morning," I said.

"Mmmmm."

"Sleep well?"

"No," she said. "But the interruptions were fun."

We got out of bed. It had been cramped, the two of us in a bed not even wide enough for one, and neither of us any midget. But it was a wonderful feeling to wake up in the morning after having spent the whole night in bed with a big, busty, warm, co-operative wench. We dressed, and I playfully ogled Marge as she got into her garments, leaning forward to dangle her big breasts into the cups of her bra before she put it on.

"My mouth feels like somebody's been using it for some obscene purpose," she said. "Lend me your toothbrush, hon."

Up till that moment I had never thought in terms of sharing a toothbrush with another person, of whatever sex. But I couldn't very well refuse. And as she disappeared down the hall with my toothbrush it occurred to me that sharing it with her was one hell of an erotic thing. Or so it seemed right then.

When we were both groomed and ready, we went downstairs into a lovely autumn morning for breakfast. I hadn't yet gotten around to buying any groceries, or we could have had breakfast in the kitchen-but it was just as well this way. If we ate in the kitchen Miss Rooksby would most likely have come out to glower at me for having dared to entertain an overnight guest of a sex other than my own.

We ate at Riker's. I was ravenously hungry, and it was a big bang of a feeling to sit there sipping orange juice with my mistress right at my side. I was glowing. Overnight Marge had transformed me into a great lover.

I said, "When am I going to see you again?"

She shrugged. The sleepless night had left her with bags under her eyes. "I've got a lot of studying this week. And I've got a couple of dates."

The mention of other dates let all the air out of me. I awakened to the bitter realization that I had no great claim on Marge. She was still going to see other men, and, ninety-seven to one, she was going to put out for them if they wanted her to.

"Oh," I said a little numbly. "But can you squeeze me into the schedule somewhere?"

"I'm still free for Saturday," she said.

My ego, which had been sagging, rebounded. "Swell! How about a football game, and dinner, and then afterwards maybe we can go up to my room again-"

"Is that all you're interested in?"

"It's one of the things I'm most interested in. Aren't you?"

"I suppose."

"Then why'd you ask?"

She stared morosely into her coffee. "Because I seem to wind up in bed all the time. Football game and bed, movie and bed, concert and bed-the evening always ends the same way."

I became uncomfortable. "All right, we won't go up to my room, then. Dammit, Marge, I don't want you to think I'm attracted to you just for that," I lied.

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We'll see on Saturday."

We parted after breakfast, Marge going in the direction of the library and me back to the hotel. I felt on top of the world. I had my own room, I had a girl who went to bed-everything was just perfect.

A few minutes after I had entered my room, there was a knock on the door. Putting down my textbook, I hopped up and opened the door.

Miss Rooksby stood there. At first I thought she was going to give me a tongue-lashing for having lowered the moral standards of the section, but she kept any such thoughts firmly inside her head. She simply looked at me rather coldly and handed me a slip of paper.

"There was a telephone call for you while you were out. I took the message."

I thanked her. She stalked away, giving me the definite feeling she didn't approve of me any more. The message, written in a neat, prissy hand, said, Call Chuck Gordon, and gave the telephone number of his fraternity house.

I found a dime in my jeans and headed for the pay phone in the corridor. But the White Russian woman had beaten me to it. She was gabbling away volubly in her native tongue, and for long moments all she seemed to be saying was, "Da! Da!" or "Nyet! Nyet!" just as I would have expected a Russian to be saying. I fumed slowly while the minutes ticked by, wondering what it was that Chuck wanted and how long it would be before Mrs. Berezhovskaya got off the damn telephone.

She ran out of nickels finally and hung up. Before anyone else could get to the phone, I did, and dialed Chuck's number. A supercilious fraternity brother answered the phone. "Alpha Gam, who is this, please?"

"I'd like to talk to Chuck Gordon."

"Who's calling?"

"Jeff Burnside. He asked me to call him."

I waited nearly a minute, and then Gordon's high-pitched, rapid-speaking voice said, "Hello there, Jeff. Must have just missed you. Well, how was it?"

"Fine."

"You scored, I hope?"

I looked around for eavesdroppers. "She slept over," I said softly into the mouthpiece. "All right. We were out having breakfast when you called."

"Hurray for you! She's a swell piece, isn't she? Built like a brick you-know-what. Some chest, eh? And the prettiest little butt you ever-"

I moderately resented his talking in such familiar terms about the girl I had just spent the night with, but at the same time I knew I hadn't any right to resent. Marge wasn't exactly virginal. I said, "Everything went swell, Chuck."

"Glad to hear it. What about next Saturday? Did you make a date with her?"

"Yep?"

"Okay, fine. I got a proposition for you, then, for next Saturday."

"I told her we were going to a football game."

"I mean in the evening," he said. "You don't have any arrangements for the evening, do you?"

"Not yet."

"Good. Keep it that way."

"What are you planning?"

"I can't talk about it over the phone," he said. "Suppose I come over to your place and fill you in on it. It's something really big-but hush-hush, and I mean!"

On that note of suspense, we concluded the conversation, and I went back to my studies for fifteen minutes, until I was interrupted by the ringing of the outside bell. I opened the door and let Chuck in.

We went into my room and he sat down on the edge of the bed. Seeing the empty chianti bottle in the wastebasket, he grinned. "I guess you and Marge had yourselves a regular little old party in here last night."

"Jealous?"

"Not at all. In fact, I'm sort of paternally proud of you, my boy."

"Cut the patronizing crap," I told him. "What's this hush-hush proposition you wanted to make?"

He leaned forward, staring off into the distance. His eyes seemed troubled, "First off, I want to get a pledge of absolute secrecy from you. What I'm about to say can get me kicked out of school, if you decide to open your mouth. So can I count on you to keep shut?"

"Sure, Chuck." I was mystified.

"Okay, then. Now listen carefully. There's a sort of a fraternity that I think you might be interested in joining."

"Oh, look, Chuck, if you're going to start peddling Alpha Gam to me-"

"Shut up and listen," he said, with a cutting edge to his voice. "I said this was a sort of a fraternity. It isn't a recognized campus body. Matter of face, it's the most secret organization on campus. Membership is limited to fifteen-five sophs, five juniors, and five seniors. Each September the juniors are entitled to sponsor five new men for membership. I've picked you as my nominee."

"That's damn nice of you, Chuck. But what sort of organization is this?"

"It's a sex club," he said gently.

I couldn't have been more surprised if he had pulled a pack of marijuana from his pocket. I stared at him in no little confusion and said, "Huh?"

"If you're not interested, say the word now and I'll leave."

"Did I say I wasn't interested?"

He shrugged. "Are you?"

"Maybe. Tell me a little more."

"This is the most secret organization here. It's been in existence over twenty years. There are branches at a lot of other important colleges, by the way."

I had heard legends of this underground sex fraternity. But this was the first time I had come close to getting the straight poop on it. I pricked up my ears and listened hard.

Chuck said, "There's a sister group at Chesley. We hold meetings jointly. Fifteen and fifteen, you see. It makes things neat. And Marge happens to be one of the girls being considered for new membership too. Which makes it even neater, since the two of you are seeing each other already." He licked his lips nervously. I could see his hands shaking a little as he lit up a cigarette. "Any time you decide you're not interested, Burnside, just let me know and I'll stop talking. I don't want to tell you any more about this than I have to.

"Go on," I said in a thin voice. "I'm still interested in what you've got to say."

"We meet every week. Attendance isn't compulsory but it's a good idea to look in on the meeting at least for a little while. Membership is limited to undergraduates, and you can't remain a member more than three years, so if you get held over past your senior year you're out. The important thing is this-any male member of the organization is entitled to cohabit sexually with any female member, and with female members at any of the other branches. If a guest from an out-of-town branch is present at the meeting, he's entitled to a woman even if one of the other members has to do without."

I guess my mouth sagged open in awe. "Regular fraternity rules of hospitality, huh?"

"Right. Now, also, any perverse practices may be indulged in, but only with the willing co-operation of the other partner. That is, you can demand to sleep with any of the girls, but you can't work out anything dicey unless they specifically consent. Still think you're interested?"

"This is incredible," I murmured. "How long have you been a member?"

"Since last September. If I told you who my sponsor was, you'd drop your cookies. But you'll meet him next week, if you come to the meeting."

"If I come, do I have to become a member on a permanent basis?" I asked.

"Provided you can pass the initiation tests."

"Which are?"

"For a male applicant, it's necessary to have sex relations with three of the female members within the space of one hundred fifty minutes. The said acts to be witnessed by at least three male and three female members of the organization, not including the applicant's sponsor.

I moistened my lips. "I've got to make it with three girls in two and a half hours? That sounds pretty steep. Especially doing it in public."

Chuck rose. "If you don't think you can make the grade, Burnside, we'll let the matter rest right here. I thought you might be interested in joining such an organization, and you'd bring just the right attitude of innocence that we're looking for. But if-"

"Hold on," I said. "I never told you I couldn't make the grade. I was just wondering. But I made it three times last night with Marge, at least-after that I wasn't even counting. There's no reason why I couldn't pass the initiation."

"Good for you."

"What does a girl have to do to become initiated?" I asked.

Chuck smiled. "She's got to resist seduction for half an hour, in the presence of three male and three female witnesses. The man who's initiating her can undress her, kiss her, touch her in any way he wants-the only thing he can't do is attempt actual rape. If she holds out for the full half hour of stimulation, she's in, and becomes a full-fledged member upon submission to her initiator and two of the male witnesses."

"I see. It sounds like fun."

"It is," Gordon said. He looked straight into my eyes, and what I saw in his-intense brooding darkness-frightened me a little. I wondered if I was out of my head to get involved in this kind of an organization. But I told myself that it was just what I wanted. I had lived the quiet life too long. Now, to have access to fifteen different women, to take part in fabulous orgies-well, it sounded two hundred percent okay.

"One thing," I said. "How can you keep this thing quiet? Suppose somebody flunks the initiation and then goes spilling the beans to the college authorities?"

"We take precautions against that," Chuck said evenly. "Whenever someone flunks the initiation, we take him aside and make it quite clear to him that he'll regret it if he opens his mouth. Then we watch him. If he comes within twenty yards of the Dean's office within a week after the initiation, we head him off and give him warning. You see, we film the initiations. If he squeals, we'll have to argue away the evidence that he was trying to become a member himself. So far nobody's informed on us."

"But what about someone like me?" I asked.

"I've listened to the whole story. Suppose I felt myself duty-bound to inform, now?"

"What would you say? At best you could identify only one member, me, and I'd simply deny the whole thing. You have no proof. Anyway, if I thought you were likely to go blabbing I wouldn't have proposed you for membership in the first place. But I think you've got promise, Burnside. You've got the right spirit. And a couple of years in this club will make a man of you. Give you backbone." He smiled. "You'll find, by the way, that some of the biggest men on campus are in our little group. They'll be your friends, your intimate buddies. I'm not naming any names, but I can tell you that by belonging to this group I have the inside track on the job of Managing Editor of the Daily. And I could be Editor-in-Chief if I wanted to be, only I don't want the job."

I could understand that. The Editor-in-Chief was a sort of public functionary, attending dinners and deans' teas, while the Managing Editor did the real job of running the paper.

Chuck said, "I ought to tell you that there are dues of twenty bucks a month. The money goes for rental of the meeting place, also refreshments, purchase of pornographic books for the club library, and rental of special films."

"Twenty a month? That's a pack of loot."

"Sure it is. But your dang expenses will go down. You won't have to bother about taking girls to expensive shows dinners, stuff like that. At twenty a month it's a bargain." He stood up. "I've told you all that I'm empowered to tell you, Burnside."

"And now you want my answer?"

"No. You've got to think it over. Remember that if we're caught, you can get expelled-but that hasn't happened yet. And I can guarantee you one hell of a good time as a member."

"How do I notify you of my decision?"

"Call me on Tuesday, one way or the other. If it's no, of course, I'll never mention the subject again to you. It's okay if you discuss it with Marge, by the way. She'll be approached by her sponsor some time over this weekend. And shell be told that you're invited to join."

"Okay," I said. "I'll let you know on Tuesday. And-Chuck-"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for everything. I wish I could tell you how much-"

"Skip it, kid. You're my favorite charity, that's all. I hate to see a man wasting his youth."

I grinned at him and he left. I took a long, deep breath. I was sweating from head to foot inclusive. I thought about my childhood buddy Fred Lambert, now pursuing the chaste and pure Carol West, and wondered what he'd say if I repeated Chuck's conversation to him. Old Fred would flip, absolutely flip.

And the next thing he'd do would be to send a wire to old Ma and Pa Burnside, back in Hudson, N.Y., telling them to come get their son before he was corrupted beyond all repair.

I chuckled a bit over poor Fred. Then I thought about what it was going to be like to have fifteen women at my disposal. I wondered who the other members, both male and female were. I tried to picture what took place at the meetings.

My pulse raced. My throat went dry. I nearly called Chuck up and told him that I accepted. Only the fact that I didn't have the right change for a phone call prevented me. But I knew what decision I was going to make, all right. I couldn't wait.