Chapter 6
Alone with Matt Schaffner in his Russell Avenue apartment, Terri couldn't help but be reminded of what had happened to her the last time she'd ventured into such a trap. Yet, happily tipsy feeling that nobody could ever hurt her again, the remembrance lost its power to aggravate or embitter.
Matt was safe; seduction was the farthest thing from his mind. After all, she mused, rolling the sherry in the snifter glass, hadn't she had to all but sandbag Matt before he'd consented they visit his apartment in the first place?
Terri was, without a doubt, sailing. Her total victory over the egocentric Jordan still a warming memory, she'd come out with Matt tonight, determined to have herself a ball. The drinks before and after dinner had set her up perfectly, and now she was a play-in kittenish bundle of mischievous woman.
When Matt had suggested a movie, she'd refused. Flustered he'd offered to take her to a club, have some drinks. Which still hadn't been the answer.
"Well then, what do you want to do?"
Like a bolt out of the blue the madcap idea had hit her Sans benefit of second thoughts she'd blurted, "Let's go to your place. I've always wanted to see where you live."
Matt had paled. "I assume you're kidding," he'd said.
She'd bounced childishly in her chair. "Nope. I'm not kidding. Your place." Then, more to tease and fluster than anything else: "We'll see what happens from there on. I leave that to you."
"Are you sure that's proper?"
"You'll be safe, dear. I don't bite."
"I didn't say you did." Matt's face was bewildered. "I'm just wondering at the propriety involved."
"I won't compromise your virtue if you don't compromise mine."
"I wish you wouldn't talk like that, Terri."
"Matt, I'm embarrassing you. Look, you're blushing!" .
And now, in Schaffner's apartment, the zany mood still prevailing, Terri was having a ball, was purposely needling him with innuendo of the broadest sort. Knowing full well that when the time came she'd turn things off just as easily as that. , Momentarily, recalling the surprising attack of sensuality that had hit her with Doug that night on Mulholland Drive, some of the moment's bawdy mischief was diluted.
What got at me anyway? she accused. Another minute there and I might have surrendered.
What did it mean? she'd asked herself countless times since that night. Was Los Angeles' easy moral climate getting to her? Were the things witnessed during her brief time in this thrill-crazy city changing her standards that much? Had living with the scheming, opportunistic Pam Lyon corroded her, made her scheming and opportunistic also?
After all, living with a freethinker like Pam was enough to undermine anybody's morals. And lately Pam had become even more confiding, had told Terri things she'd never dreamed existed. Concerning her personal life, that of her friends, of L.A. in general.
There had been nights when, strangely titillated by such frank talk, Terri had found it hard to sleep. And aroused by the talk, by the memory of that night at Deming's apartment, she'd tossed and turned in bed for hours. Until, much as she hated herself for doing so, she had to find some sort of mechanical release.
Teasing her nipples, twisting beneath the covers, she knew an overpowering sensual need. Then she'd let her hands steal over her quaking flesh, touching and caressing. At the end it had been all she could do to stifle her whimpers, her sighs and gasps of intense release, to keep Pam from hearing her private exertions.
What is happening to me? she raged in the clear light of day. Am I becoming some sort of sex fiend or something? Is this thing becoming too important in my life? Does that initial, overpowering urge hit different women at different times?
The thoughts nettling Terri, she shook her head, brushed them aside. Taking a generous sip of her wine, she watched Matt, at the opposite wall, going through his records, looking for something appropriate to play on his hi-fi.
Momentarily the air was filled with the plaintive, soft strains of a solo violin. Terri smiled, leaned back against Matt's worn, comfy davenport. "Nice...." she slurred.
"One of my favorites."
"Beautiful, Matt. Now, will you come sit down?"
"Anything else? Something to munch on? I've got some goodies out in the kitchen."
She held out her empty glass, stretched her body into a breast-swelling curve. "More wine if you've got it. Food is not uppermost in my mind."
When here turned, decanter in hand, she pulled him down. "Now sit still. Let's enjoy the music, together."
Still edgy, Matt sat a distance from her. "Matt," she said, suddenly possessed of the strongest urge to needle the stuffy man into some rash action. Fun, she thought. It's fun to be a woman with a man like this. "I think you're afraid of me."
His expression was pained. "No, that's not it at all. I just don't want to appear forward."
"So? What's the matter with a man being a little forward? That's their bit, isn't it? To be a ... little ... wild?"
She exulted inwardly as Matt squirmed. Isn't he funny? The man's impossible. He's not for real. He fell silent for a time, stared miserably into space. "You like my apartment?" he finally said by way of changing the subject.
"It's very nice, Matt. Small and comfortable. Very conservative. It's just what I expected."
"Is that supposed to be a crack or something?"
She popped her eyes in comic dismay. "Nope. No crack. It's just you, Matt."
"I hope that's good. Nothing flashy, I realize, but I've been saving money, investing. I'll be damned ... darned, Terri ... if I'll move my wife into some cracker box in one of those developments. I'm getting ready."
The wine cut in more disastrously. "Have you picked the girl yet?" Terri teased, getting some perverse charge out of making Matt sweat.
He turned on her, reproach and hurt in his eyes. "You know very well I have, Terri." His voice dropped, he looked down at his hands. "If-if she'll have me.
The cruel streak persisted, Terri was seized by a longing to shake the man to his roots once and for all. What was the harm? If he went too far she could always stop him. "Maybe Matt, that girl would like more direct demonstration of that affection. She doesn't expect that he'll have to be the one to make all the moves."
He turned to her, disbelief in his eyes. "Terri, you don't mean...."
"You kissed me the other night, Matt." The slow burning fires within Terri suddenly hissed, flared, made her suddenly jittery. It felt some evil hand was sorting her desires, twisting and pulling. That same feeling she'd known at Deming's apartment. "Why don't you kiss me again? Like now? Am I so repulsive? It was a sweet kiss, you know...."
Suddenly she didn't care. Desire was a rampaging thing for her. She wanted that sensation again, no matter where it led. She needed that cleansing wildness, she needed a man. And if she couldn't give herself to Matt, if she couldn't trust him, what man could she trust?
I'm a woman, the justifying refrain returned, I have a woman's needs. And if I don't choose to be married just yet, does that mean I have to go without? That I have to wait while this terrible longing claws me all up? Matt, don't make me wait. If you want me, here I am. I'm yours.
Matt's eyes were wide, astonished. For long moments he merely stared at her, his mouth half open. Then, his expression transformed into something eerie, desperately determined, he moved to her.
"Terri, darling...." he breathed. "You're so beautiful. So precious to me...." She was in his arms, her body was being bent back, his lips were slowly descending. And despite his clumsiness, despite the rough way he bent her, she gloried in his masterfulness, she thought his lips would never reach hers.
Then the stinging, delicious contact was made. And her arms twined around his neck, pulled him ruthlessly to her. Her lips were pressuring his; it seemed she'd suffocate if he didn't stop soon. Still she clung to him, drove and twisted her mouth.
"Terri," he husked as they broke the kiss, as he looked at her, awesome confusion in his gaze. "I don't know what's happening to me, to us. I didn't mean...."
"Never mind," she cut him off. "Whatever it is, it's all right. It's what should happen for a man and a woman." Her arms tightened, her wild fury became even more debilitating. "Again. Oh, please, kiss me again."
Their kiss lasted longer this time, became more sense-robbing, more passionate.
"Matt," she gasped when they broke no. "Please, turn out the lights."
Dazedly, things happening altogether too fast for the mild-mannered man, he rose, stumbled about the room, extinguishing the lights.
He found her in the darkness, immediately gathered her into his arms, searched for her lips. When he found her, a low whimper formed deep in his throat. "My darling, my darling."
And if, at this tardy moment, Matt lost control, wanted to pursue their passion to its ultimate limits, Terri had already been out of touch for a long time, she was wild to have him, she felt she'd die, that she'd go mad if she was denied now.
Now his timid hands found her heaving breasts, trembling touched them. "Terri," he breathed, "you won't...."
"It's all right, darling," . she sighed. "I want you. Take them, enjoy them all you want."
Gradually his hands became more confident, riled and gathered them without stop. And when his fingers began tormenting her nipples it was like someone driving white-hot needles at them.
Suddenly she groaned, pulled away. "The record, Matt. It's over."
"Damn the record!" he hissed.
"Play it again. Turn it over. But don't just leave it."
She felt a chill as he deserted her. Groping in the dark she found her wine, downed it in a desperate swallow. As Matt fumbled with the phonograph-in the dark, she feverishly ran her zippers, kicked off her pumps. Then the slip, her brassiere went sailing, she was clad in only her panties, garter belt and stockings.
Matt felt his way back. "Terri, what?" he gasped as his hands encompassed her naked breasts, as they slid on the silky texture of her panties, careened a-cross her legs, recoiled as if burned. "No, we mustn't!"
"Why mustn't we?" she taunted. "You're a man, I'm a woman. There are times like this. At least I think you're a man. Prove to me that you're a man, Matt."
The taunt stung, hit home. His voice was gutter-al, frantic. "We shouldn't, darling. We have to save this. For when we're married. I love you, I want to wait, to...."
Terri's voice was a vindictive snarl. "I said now, Matt. What makes you think there's going to be a marriage? What if I never give you another chance like this? Are you going to turn me down? This one chance...."
"I don't understand, "he groaned. "What's happening to us? Have we lost our minds?"
Terri's words were thick, aberrated. "Now, damn you! Now. Or else...."
An agonized groan breaking from him, Matt gathered her in his arms and lifted her. Now he moved toward the bedroom. Terri's hands fluttered, locked on his arms.
In the background the music built up again.
Terri chuckled muzzily at Matt's clumsy efforts at disrobing her. He was such a little Teddy bear. A new realization speared her. He was a virgin, she was positive. How sweet, how appropriate, she marveled.
"Tell me, Matt," she whispered aa he knelt at her feet, peeled off her stockings. "Will this be your first woman? I mean .."
"Yes," he muttered. "I swear, Terri. With no other woman. I've saved myself...."
Terri's exultation mounted, swelled, lashed inside her. Good, this is going to be spectacular. I'll teach him, I'll take him by surprise, shock the living hell out of him. Undressed at last, she fell back, looked to where now Matt, naked also now, stood beside her. She used the dim light to advantage, appraised his figure, was seized by an insane lust as she saw how rugged a man Matt was. Suddenly her breasts burned, ached from wanting him.
Still Matt stood by the bed, stared at Terri's magnificent, golden body. "You're exquisite, Terri, so beautiful," he choked. "I never thought a woman could be so lovely."
"Please, Matt. Don't make me wait. Take care of things ... of me...."
When he awkwardly moved to her, Terri, caught up in a delirium of desire, sat up, gathered him, cradled his head in her arms. Her breasts hanging heavily, swaying like ripe, opulent melons, she brought his lips to them. "Kiss them, darling." she chanted. "They want you so."
Matt shuddered convulsively, his voice rasping, almost sobbing in frantic desire and gratitude. Then bracing himself, freeing one hand, letting it slide a-long her body, his lips closed to the rosettes, each in turn, to trap and torture them. It seemed the man wanted to attend to all the niceties of lovemaking at once.
And Terri felt like she was on fire. Like she'd fall apart at the seams at any moment, explode from the mounting pressure. "Darling," she gasped, "good, good." An awesome tremor hit her.
"I can't wait, darling," she gasped finally, pulling his lips away. "I have to have you now. Now...."
"You're sure?" Matt choked. "You won't hate me afterward? If you were to hate me...."
"I'll hate you now," she spat. "If you don't take care of things soon. Please, Matt!"
Then, as proof positive of her need, she boldly sent her hands on a frank reconnaissance, found Matt, agitated and tormented him. Then, unable to wait, she was lifting him, arranging.
There was no hesitation, no opportunity for savor-ance. Her lust, his lust were overpowering. Each needed the other with an unhinging need. Their identities were, for the moment, totally lost. There was only this healthenish desire, this agonizing ache and pain and clutching. There was only this moment, enlarged, magnified, surpassing any counterfeit delights the world could offer. There was only this giving and taking.
All else faded to nothingness. There were only these gratifying sights overshadowing the earth, driving each out of his mind with ecstatic mania given and received.
Terri had a transfiguring glory at the knowledge that this love hadn't been extorted, hadn't been tricked from her. It was a thing of her own volition, a gift of the moment, an undeniable compulsion. She wanted to give herself to this man, she wanted him unreservedly, in this most exciting of of moments.
And as added bonus, she wantonly wanted to rob him of his virgin gift. She wanted that satisfied gasp of relief.
"Yes, yes!" she called as the man labored for her "That's right, so good, so right. Baby, baby...."
While the astonished Matt, groaned deeply in his throat, telt pain back up on him, become intolerable. He clenched Terri tighter and gloried at that magnificent mind-robbing, clinging, hurting ecstasy. Faster.
Still faster. Terri was tearing him to pieces. "My beloved," he managed to rasp, "I never thought anything could be like this. You're wonderful! The things you do...." The rest was lost in a choked gasp.
Now he was amazed when Terri began to choke and shrill her impending release. When her arms became iron bands, like a maddened bronco, spurred him on. "Now," she squealed. "Now, damn you! Go!" Her body froze. "Yes, yes. Oh, oh, darling." A ragged growl ruptured her throat.
"Darling, darling," he called as his pleasure became more intense. He heard a creaking, knew he was clenching his teeth with all his strength.
Then the pain became too great, he could forestall sensation no longer. Gibberish cries poured from his mouth, primeval words erupted from some dafk cave in the most subterranean depths of his psyche.
Terri called out ecstatically once more, praised him. She screamed and fought him, announced still another glory.
Matt's screams blended with hers, formed a chorus of shrill and hoarse chords. Became an exalting, beautiful paen to rapture.
Then gasping and sighing, they both collapsed, clung to each other with fanatic desperation.
"Forgive me, darling," he pleaded when he regained his breath. "I don't know what happened. I didn't want this, to defile you. I...."
Terri caught his head, drew it against her breasts, muffled the rest of his words. "There is nothing to forgive,' she said "This happened, that's all. I needed you. It any one should ask for forgiveness it should be me. It was my fault, Matt ... "
"I'll marry you, Terri, I'll make this right by you. I'm not the kind of man who takes advantage of a woman, who...."
Again Terri shushed him. And in a mysterious, calm tone, said, "And what if I don't want to marry you, Matt?"
The man halt rose, stared at her, was shaken by the beautiful, enigmatic smile on her lips. "I don't understand. If you didn't want to marry me, why...?"
"You're such a little boy sometimes, Matt," she whispered. She stroked his hair. "I can't explain why this happened. Let it go at that. I wanted you, I had to have you. And that's all."
"That's all?" he croaked "Don't say that, Terri."
She laughed. "I don't mean it that way. What I mean is that you don't have to feel you have to marry me. I'm not ready to be married yet. To you, to anybody. If this isn't enough, to have each other when we need each other-" she paused, clutched his head tighter to her "-then I'm sorry. But that's the way things have to be."
"You mean," Matt fought her hands, stared into her face, "that this is all you want? Just because we need each other ...?" .
"That's exactly what I mean. If we're careful and don't get greedy things will work out beautifully for both of us. If I can't trust you, darling...."
A monumental shudder ripped Terri. "For now, this has to be enough."
Stunned, acting on instinct alone, Matt attended her anew. "I don't understand. I don't think I ever will, Terri."
"What's to understand?" Still lust charged, still greedy and hurting, she sighed, "Just enjoy. I'm a woman, you're a man. Isn't that answer enough? You were good, Matt, and I want you again."
Dreamily her hands moved on his face. "Soon," she crooned. "Oh, soon...." Then her hands slid a-cross his damp chest. "Here, let .Terri help you, baby. Don't be shy, I won't hurt you. There, Matt. Oh, what a man. Lay still, let Terri play...."
Then when Matt was ready, when he rolled and tossed on the bed, fought to pull Terri closer, she still delayed. "You won't think badly of me, will you, Matt?" she purred. "If I try something? A thing I've heard about...."
"No," he gritted. "How can I refuse you when you've got me like this?"
Then Terri was bending to Matt. Boldly she dropped her hands, guided him. A long sibilant sigh issued from her lips. "That's marvelous. No, Matt, be still. Let Terri take care of everything. Hold my breasts, my nipples. That's all. That'll help."
She arched, shuddered. "Oh, Matt." Now she worked swiftly, the coarse humming started in her throat.
That night it was Terri's turn to get home at four A.M.
Two months had passed. Life had settled into a rut for Terri and Pam. They went through their daily rounds; work at Great Western, housekeeping chores, desultory reading and TVing, attendance at the gym and drama classes, the occasional forays onto the Strip, Pam's visits to casting and agents' offices. Beyond this, the more frequent dates Terri was having with Matt Schaffner.
It was June, and L.A. became hotter by the day the smog grew more choking, more eye-burning. Terri missed the flow of the seasons. There was none of the exuberant bloom, of slow change from cold, snowy winter to balmy, greenup springtime that Terri had known in Waterloo. Christmas had been a most dismal travesty. When the peace-treaty gifts had arrived from home, had been put under the aluminum tree, Terri had sobbed intermittently throughout the entire day.
But now-June. Summer clothes and shoes, the infrequent treks to the beaches, the riot of color as gardens and flowerbeds came into full glory.
Terri was halfheartedly satisfied with her life, she felt she'd found what she was looking for in Los Angeles. She had her freedom, diversion, a career of sorts. More important she was maturing, being seasoned in one of the world's most sophisticated and exacting moral climates.
She'd never heard from Lloyd Deming or Doug Jordan again. Nor did she care. Now and then Pam arranged blind dates, offered to fix her up with a nice man, but Terri wasn't having any. Several times during their forays to the Sunset Boulevard flesh-spots there'd been attempts at pickup by fast-talking Hollywood wolves. But while Pam was interested, Terri was not. Pam deserting her those times, Terri had returned home alone.
If that was Pam's speed, she'd fumed, it wasn't hers!
Yet, who was she to sit in judgment? At least Pam was being honest about her meanderings; in many cases she was promoting, attempting to further her career. She'd been moderately successful. There'd been a bit role in a TV show. She had that extra exposure to add to her credit list.
Terri was still drifting, she was still maintaining her curious liaison with Matt. When Pam made sly digs at the frequency of their dates, at Terri's wee-hour homecomings, Terri laughed them off, avowed she wasn't that kind of gal, and Matt wasn't that kind of guy.
Terri couldn't explain the impasse to herself. Often, upon returning home from some particularly steamy session with Matt, she'd lain awake for hours after-trying to puzzle out the reason for continuing the odd affair.
What was so damnably wrong and evil in having a lover? she raged these times. Even if it was patently stopgap, a loveless thing. Matt took care of things admirably, he helped extinguish her fires when they raged out of control. He adored her, took care of her, accepted this side of her, tolerated the excesses she craved when she had a little too much to drink. Never having known another woman, he accepted her wanton streak as normal femininity.
Those nights she questioned herself too severely, calling herself vile names, she sought comfort in the thought that it was unnatural for a woman to keep herself constant until marriage, meander into spinster-hood, suffer the torments of frustration for years at a time. And when life had passed her by, when at 38, she finally found the right man? Would she want a man who was still virginal at 38? Didn't the same thing apply to females?
Matt, despite his harpings, was nevertheless very much of a man, he took care of his fire-tending chores conscientiously. Granted, she'd had to teach him, knock some of his reservations out of him. But each time they rendezvoused, was better than the last. Matt was learning to throw himself into love with real gusto.
Even to the pillow bit Deming had taught her. Which was a variation Terri keenly enjoyed occasionally. Matt had rebelled at first. But then, just to please Terri-and they'd both derived transporting delight from their fantastic, simultaneous finish.
The boy was definitely learning. She'd make a man of him yet!
There were drawbacks, however. There were times she got so tired of arguing with the honor-bound man, she didn't care whether she ever saw him again or not.
For Matt, Victorian at the core, was determined he would-as he so quaintly put it-"Make an honest woman of her." No amount of squabbling, of coolness, of refused dates would make him see otherwise. He loved Terri, he wanted to enjoy this love under the sheltering umbrella of matrimony.
"I need a man," Terri bluntly announced those times. "There are nights when I get blue, when I need someone to talk to. And, frankly, there are times when I need loving. If it wasn't you, Matt, then I'm afraid it would be someone else. I'm a flesh and blood woman, dear. I can't change that. When I need a man, he'd better be there. Would you like that? Would you like me to become promiscuous?"
At which Matt's face would become an anguished, frightened mask. The thought of his beloved passing herself around indiscriminately was maddening. Just visualizing another man touching her was enough to send him into a frenzy.
"You're the only man who's ever touched me," she lied with owlish solemnity, "I've never known another man like this. What's happened has happened. And now that I've known love, I don't want to go without."
"You won't have to go without," he invariably wailed. "Marry me, whether you love me or not. I've got enough love for the both of us. In time, perhaps, you'll change, you'll learn to love me. Give me that chance to try...."
Around and around they'd go, Matt becoming more agitated, unable to fathom a turn like this, all but tearing his hair with aggravation and frustration.
"I don't want to marry you, Matt. I don't want to marry anybody. I have to have time to think, to live, to truly get to know myself. To know what I want out of life. We only go through this world once, I can't afford to make a mistake. Don't you see? I'd be obliged to live it out, wrong choice or not."
Then, when it seemed their argument had become a dog chasing its tail, she invariably applied the clincher: "We don't have to go on like this you know." she'd announce coldly. "I'm tired of your nagging. If you don't like our arrangement, say so." She'd sigh wearily here: "I'm sure I can find someone who'll be glad to take your place."
Which was just like touching a white-hot brand to Matt's eyes. And he'd cave in, he'd plead, he'd beg forgiveness. If this was the basis on which she wanted their relationship to continue, he'd agree to the terms.
And what ever happened to the girl like the girl that married dear old dad? Where do girls like Terri come from? Are they programmed on computers, punched out on data cards?
So the days, the weeks, the months passed. And Terri, though confused, admittedly dubious about her future, concluded that, for the most part, her life was exactly as she wanted it.
A job, a friend, things to do. And when that sensual element in her psyche rebelled-a man, a steady, secure, rock of a man. A place to go, an arrangement that was safe, convenient. And infallible.
And one fine morning there would be a warning swell, an ominous thunderhead perhaps, on the placid sea of her existence. A storm, emotional or otherwise, would come up, would savagely rock her cozy little boat.
Then it would be time to make her decision.
Until then she'd be content to drift with the lazy tide, gorge on hedonistic diversions, let the passing of days and weeks ripen and mature her.
There was a forbidding undercurrent making itself known in Terri's sluggish existence insofar as the way things were going at the apartment between her and Pam. It was a subtle transition, going totally unnoticed until, too late, it was full-blown and undeniable. A change which, by the end of June, seemed to cast an ominous pall, foster a cancer in what had been, heretofore, a gay, confiding, happy-go-lucky relationship.
Another symptom was the way Pam was shortcut-ting her acting classes, letting her gym visits slide, the way she was gone so many nights to keep definite appointments-never explained to Terri.
"I had a date," she'd evade, "a new guy. He's got an in with Universal." Or: "I had to go over and talk to Kathy again. She's got a hard row to hoe."
None of which was at all convincing.
Terri, honoring that privacy, not wanting to make any unnecessary waves, didn't press further.
Pam also seemed to have more money than usual of late. Pam suddenly began to splurge on clothes, on shoes, on personal items. Again, Terri making discreet inquiry as to the source of this windfall, there was no convincing explanation. "My folks sent me some money. I got a friend who plays the horses. He put me onto a good thing. I cleaned up. Two-hundred smackers...."
Again Terri didn't press. If Pam wanted to tell net, she would in her own good time.
Then there were the strange phone calls every now and then. There was the way that Pam would leap for the phone, vicious anger in her eyes, the way some of those phone conversations would be terse and con-committal, a furtive dialogue of yes's and no's. Conversations that would invariably send Pam into a frenzy of showering, changing and primping. Not too much later she'd be cruising out the door, a laconic "Gotta see a man about a horse...." trailing in her wake.
It would be one or two before she'd return home.
Something was very wrong, Terri concluded. Something was very fishy, indeed. But, proud of her newfound maturity and self sufficiency, she refused to pry. Pam's got her life to live. I've got mine.
Give Pam time, she'll come around.
If this atmosphere of disquiet wasn't disaster enough, other, more devastating catastrophes waited in the wings, threatened to destroy Terri.
On that dismal, cataclysmic morning in early July, she posed nakedly before the full length mirror in the bedroom and saw the unmistakable physical changes in her body, saw the dullness of her complexion
She inventoried the physical discomfort she'd known of late, the small bouts of nausea, and admitted the panicky truth about the dangerous two weeks-
There wasn't the slightest doubt in the world now.
Suddenly it seemed the walls were caving in around her, that her whole smug, secure existence was crumbling. And Terri was finally forced to face the truth: Matt was going to be a father.