Chapter 10
Judy awoke slowly. It seemed to her that she was surfacing from a great depth, that she was rising slowly from a deep, warm darkness, like a child issuing from the womb.
Her entire body was relaxed and at peace, but her sensations seemed heightened and as she came gradually awake, she felt her surroundings in a complete and total way that was new to her.
She could feel the bedsheets beneath, her; it seemed that she could almost count the fibers that pressed against her naked back, that she could number the stitches that bound the mattress together. She could feel a crisp sheet lying across her knees, and the gentle touch of the cool night air as it brushed across her nakedness. She could hear, softly but with great clarity, the sounds of the cars buzzing by on the road outside; the sound of the conversation and quiet music from the bar across the court; the soft talk and rustling sounds of clothing and bedding from the other motel units. She could almost hear the breeze in the trees behind the cabins and the breathing of animals deep in the black woods.
These sensations touched her and she acknowledged them. But only briefly. For now a new wonder came to occupy her attention.
Her body.
The totality of sensation which brought her the small sounds and stirrings of the night now turned inward, and she became aware of herself in a curiously detached fashion that she had never before experienced.
She could feel her arms and legs in a new way-feel the space they occupied, feel the manner in which they touched the sheets, feel the warmth of the skin and the soft down that covered it and the blood moving through her flesh.
She became aware of her breasts; she could feel the weight of them above her for the first time, as if they had been newly added to her body. She could feel the skin where it drew together at the nipple, and the lingering circles of sensation still printed there.
She could feel her stomach; she could sense the curve and swell of it as it rose from her waist in a graceful curve and fell downward sharply.
She opened her eyes.
The curtains were blowing softly at the window and a pale ray of light was falling gently into the room.
She knew without looking that she was alone in the room, but the thought did not disturb her. He is gone, she thought, but that's all right. I want to be alone for a while.
Thinking of him, the deep, rich sensation within her began to come to life once more. She closed her eyes, and smiled.
She could almost feel his hands again as she lay there; for a moment it seemed as if he was beside her, touching her and caressing her.
She relived for a moment the sensation of his hands over her breasts. She could feel the strong curve of his fingers against her yielding flesh and the hardness of his palms against her straining nipples.
She could feel the pressure of his lips; against her mouth, against her brow, against her eyes, her nose, her chin. She could feel his breathing in her ear, the brush of his stubble against her cheek.
She could feel the muscular length of him; the faint prickle of hair on his chest, his hard bones that pressed into the softness of her own, the solidity of his buttocks.
And, for a moment, it seemed that fulfillment had come upon her again-she could feel the fantastic swell of it as it rushed upward, as her body chilled in its wake, as her muscles locked in pleasure and the ultimate moment arrived.
Then, the slow, sweet descent; the quiet feeling of his hands and his lips as he helped her down from the height she had scaled with kisses and caresses.
Then, sleep.
She stirred on the bed, and the moment passed. The feeling of her limbs against the cool linen brought her mind to the present.
She opened her eyes again. The room was dark and cool above her.
Has he gone for good, she wondered. Has he left me? It was difficult to judge. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed since sleep took her. It was still night, but beyond that she could not tell.
She wondered briefly if she would see him again. Perhaps he had done all that he had intended and had faded back into the night, back to whatever life he had. She was surprised to realize that this prospect did not disturb her. If he had gone, she wished only that he would find happiness as fine as he had shown her. She hoped that he could achieve for himself something as wondrous as what he had given her.
Of course, she had given him pleasure; she was sure of that. But what was pleasure in exchange for the miracle he had brought about with her?
I am a woman, she thought He had done it-he has done what he said he would do. He has made me a woman.
She thought suddenly of the lady who had asked her to do the filthy thing back at the Red Apple Inn. Poor soul. How she must need a man Judy found it hard to believe that any woman could desire the love of another woman after being in the arms of a man. She knew that many of the sensations which Harry had called forth within her could have been produced by almost any sort of human being, even a woman or a girl like herself. Many, but not all. The ultimate pleasure, the final, blinding release, could only come from a man.
She wished all at once that she could share her discovery with that unfortunate woman. She felt a wrench of compassion for her twisted loneliness and the life that had led her into such an emotional dead end.
Where was that lady now, she wondered. On the road somewhere, searching for release from the thing coiled inside her? Or was she in the arms of some unfortunate like herself at this moment, straining with her toward something neither of them could ever achieve?
Wherever you are, she thought, I hope you find a man. I hope it isn't too late for you to gain the happiness that every woman needs.
She smiled to herself. Harry had altered her view of the world. She would never be able to look at a human being again without thinking of this act, without a consciousness of this transcendent moment in a human life.
She snuggled her head into the pillow.
Thank you, Harry, she said to herself. Thank you for this.
Her mind closed slowly; she felt herself receding into sleep. The rich relaxation was coming to engulf her again.
She slept.
She was not aware of the quiet opening of the door.
She did not hear the careful footsteps as they crossed the room.
She did not see the glittering eyes of the stranger as they examined her nakedness.
She stirred in her sleep as the figure lowered itself gradually onto the bed beside her.