Chapter 1
We live in groups, in a number of groups. This is something which happens to us through the chance of birth and environment. We have little choice about it. We cannot change our heritage and by the time we are old enough to make a change our habits and our drives are pretty well conditioned. "If we do make a choice it is usually not radical. In general, we are born and we grow up and live within the borders of our own conditioning. And we are rather satisfied by the way things work. We might want more money, we might be aware of a hundred vague desires which might be impossible, but this is not inconsistent with our acceptance of life, as it is. Hopes, dreams, desires-these are a part of the beauty about us. They are like the stars of. the sky. If they are unobtainable we still enjoy looking at them.
Joe Banning, who was seventeen, was a member of four main groups. One was his family group. This consisted of him, his mother and father, an older sister, and an assortment of uncles, aunts-, nephews and nieces. He also belonged to a neighborhood group, the people who lived in the same block and, to some extent, shared the same fortunes-a low-income group, Negro and white, Jewish, Catholic or non-belivers, a quite heterogeneous collection of people bound together by their proximity to each other.
He belonged to a school group, but this was summer and school was closed, and right now his relationships there were rather tenuous.
He belonged to a work group, for he was one of the fortunate teen-age youths who had a job. It was not much of a job, but it gave him a little money, it occupied his time, and it gave him a certain sense of responsibility.
Joe was a tall, thin young man, with tousled red hair, a freckled face, and deep blue eyes. He was fairly strong. His school record was not exceptional but at least there were no marks against him. And he had no police record. In this part of the city, a good many kids had police records before they were seventeen. At Peel's Drugstore, where he was employed, he was listed as a delivery boy. He delivered, and he did a number of other things. The other things were usually the dirty jobs, the cleanup jobs that someone had to do, so he did them.
The group at Peel's Drugstore included Arthur Morrell, who owned the place; Howard Kendrick, the pharmacist; Carter Harris, who handled the fountain-he called himself the Soda King-and Sue Dorchester, the cashier-clerk, who was really something. Joe was at the very bottom of the ladder.
He was supposed to get to work by noon. He had an hour off for supper. Then he worked until they locked the doors at nine and afterward he had to sweep up, clean up for the next day. Mr. Morrell stayed until he finished, or if he couldn't stay Mr. Kendrick stayed. Now and then, Sue Dorchester worked late. Once when she had stayed, and Mr. Kendrick had stayed too, they disappeared into the small storage room and were there for twenty minutes. There was a light in the front of the storage room and there was a light behind the three-quarter partition, but they turned them off. Joe took one look in that direction, then listened at the door. He heard low voices, but no words. Then he couldn't hear anything, but he could imagine what was happening. Just thinking about that made him a little excited. He would have liked to have taken Mr. Kendrick's place, and he could have. One afternoon when Sue had noticed him ogling her breasts she had said, "Careful, infant. They're not for you." He could have disputed that with her. He was much more of a man than she realized.
In the rear of the store was the supply room, but down the side of it was the corridor to the washroom. This was reserved for the employees; it was not for the customers. Actually, the washroom used one corner of the supply room. Opposite was a rear door to the side street, but it was kept barred.
Following the evening daring which Mr. Kendrick and Sue had disported themselves in the back part of the supply room-if that was what happened-Joe had examined the walls of the washroom. The partitions were thin. It occurred to him that it might be possible to bore a hole through the plaster, a hole through which he could view the back part of the supply room. He made the hole high on the wall, so it wouldn't be noticed. It was a successful operation, but to use it he had to stand on the toilet seat.
Of course, after he set up his peephole, nothing happened. As far as he could tell, Sue and Mr. Kendrick made no more trips to the rear of the supply room. But one night, finally, Sue worked after hours while Mr. Morrell was there, and shortly after locking up the store, Sue and Mr. Morrell wandered into the supply room. This amazed him. Sue and Mr. Kendrick had some kind of understanding. He could sense that from their attitudes toward each other. But that wasn't true of Sue and Mr. Morrell. Mr. Morrell wasn't friendly with anyone.
Joe worked steadily for several minutes after Sue and Mr. Morrell disappeared. He expected they would reappear, but they didn't. Then, just on the chance something might be happening in the supply room, he hurried back to the washroom as quietly as possible, climbed up to his vantage point, and took a look through his peephole.
He almost gasped out loud.
Something was happening in the rear of the supply room. The back light was off, but the light in front was bright enough to disclose what Sue and Mr. Morrell were doing. They had wasted little time. Sue was down on the floor, her dress pushed up. Her panties were off, too, and had been tossed to the side. At least, he thought that was Sue. He couldn't see much of her. Mr. Morrell was obscuring his view, and Mr. Morrell was breathing loudly.
Joe ran out of breath just watching. Mr. Morrell kept working at his pleasant task, then he stopped and rested for a moment. After that he got up, and in the process he rearranged his clothing. But Joe was hardly aware of that. All his attention was on Sue, and he saw plenty. Her legs were fat up above the knees, really fat. , She got up, found her panties, put them on and dropped her dress. Then she adjusted her neckline. She always wore her dresses low, but this one was especially low tonight, after this exercise. Her boobs were almost out.
Mr. Morrell said something to her and she answered, but Joe couldn't pick up the words. He decided, too, that it was time to get out to the front before Sue and Mr. Morrell left the supply room. He stepped down carefully from his perch and tiptoed to the front of the store. He was still sweeping up when Sue and Mr. Morrell reappeared.
"Not finished yet?" Mr. Morrell said, and he scowled.
"I'm almost finished," Joe replied.
He took a look at Sue, and she didn't look any different than usual. She scarcely glanced at him. She rarely did.
"Come on. Hurry it up," Mr. Morrell said. He hurried.
"I think I'll leave," Sue said. "Will you let me out the front door, Mr. Morrell?"
"Surely, Miss Dorchester," Mr. Morrell said.
Joe smiled to himself. Right now they were being very formal. A few minutes ago they had been considerably less stilted. It occurred to him that there was a lesson in this-never to be too trustful, never to be sure of the obvious.
There was a gang which hung around the store, and on the corner. They were mostly kids he knew from school, boys and girls. Some liked the same things, some didn't. Some were members of the gang because it gave them some place to go. This was a loosely knit group. Nothing, really, held it together.
Joe knew most of the kids in the gang. He could have belonged, and he did, after work. But not during working hours. During working hours he was an employee of Peel's. The gang was made up of kids with nothing much to do. They met at the fountain in the drug store and had Cokes. Or they met outside on the corner. They talked, did a little boasting, drifted away or came back. This wasn't a tough gang. There was one in the neighborhood, though. In fact there were several. Some of the fellows belonged, and some of the girls. But the gang on the corner was much different.
Joe got along all right with most of these people. One or two of the guys he didn't like. Several of the girls interested him. In fact, one interested him above all the others, Noel Traubert. She was tall, thin, wiry. She had sandy hair and green eyes. Breasts, too. He could notice them pushing out at her blouse. She was a rather quiet person, and she was usually with Debby Roth, who was an entirely different kind of person, vivacious, loud, a brown-haired, sultry character who could be had. At least that was the rumor. Maybe Noel was available, too. But he didn't think so. He hadn't had any luck with either one.
This was one of his deep secrets. He had never had a girl in his life. That is, he had never been able to go all the way. He had done a lot of loving, necking. A good many times he had gotten his hand past the breast vantage point, but that had been his limit. He never admitted that. He could boast and lie with everyone else. The awful truth, however, was this: he was still a virgin at seventeen! This was horrible.
Nearly every day he had to make deliveries. Sometimes there were only two or three. There could be as many as a dozen. These would range from prescriptions to a package of ice cream for someone who couldn't get out. On occasion he picked up a tip, fifteen cents or a quarter. Usually he got nothing. He figured if he got anything as a tip he was lucky. People in this part of the city didn't have much money. If they had, they wouldn't have been there.
He made deliveries when they were telephoned in. A request for a delivery seemed to imply an emergency, but this was rarely true. There were times when he was supposed to make a delivery after a certain time, or before a certain time. Definitely, never under any circumstances, was he supposed to enter anyone's room or apartment. This was supposed to be an inflexible rule. He was supposed to make all deliveries at the door.
Joe Banning didn't always keep this rule.
Late one afternoon in July he returned from a delivery, and in front of the drug store he saw Noel Traubert. She was just standing there, looking the other way, her back toward him. Some of the others of the gang were standing nearby, but he particularly noticed her. She was in short khaki pants, a blouse, and thongs. Her legs were nicely tanned.
He came up behind her, poked her at the bra line, and said, "Hi, there."
She jerked around as though his finger was electrified, then she said, "Oh, it's you."
"What's wrong with me being me?" Joe asked.
"It just don't mean much."
He ignored her words. "You going to be around tonight?"
"I'll be around somewhere," Noel said. "But who knows where that is."
"Thought we might go to the movies," Joe said.
"Yeah? You got that much money?"
"Sure. I'm one of the employed," Joe said.
"One of the employed?" said another voice. "You mean he's one of the finks."
It was Hugo Tennyson who had said that. He was one of the gang. A fink was anything unpleasant. In Joe's eyes, Hugo was a fink and always had been. But he was big for seventeen and tough, and he would be hard to handle.
Joe looked at him, and looked away. He spoke again to Noel. "If you've got to hang around somewhere, hang around here. Be seeing you."
He moved on, entered the store, and he didn't know whether he had made a date or not. At quitting time Noel might be in front of the store or she might not. If she was there, they might go to a movie. He had the necessary money.
What he wanted was not a movie. What he wanted he didn't know how to set up. That involved a certain amount of privacy. Ever since he had watched Sue and Mr. Morrell through the peephole, one scene had been driving him crazy. Toward the end, Mr. Morrell had climbed to his feet and had stepped to the side. That had allowed Joe a full view of Sue Dorchester, flat on the floor, feet pointed his way, dress pushed up, panties off, her legs still moving. He still got sweaty when he thought about that. He got even more excited when his imagination put Noel in the same position. He could do that mentally. He could imagine her in the same position as Sue but only in his mind, and that wasn't enough.
No, he wasn't interested in a movie. He wanted Noel. He didn't know how to manage that, but taking her to a movie might help.
Sometimes things just don't work out right. Just before closing time two telephone calls came in. Each was an order, and in each instance the person making the order insisted that this was an emergency. The orders had to be delivered immediately.
Mr. Morrell and Mr. Kendrick set up the two orders, then Mr. Morrell called Joe, and handed him the two orders. "Sorry it's so late," he said gruffly, "but these two orders have to be delivered. Maybe you can come in early in the morning, and do the sweeping."
Joe looked at the two orders. They were in opposite directions and four or five blocks away. Even if he hurried to one, then to the other, he might not get back until nine-thirty. Nine was closing time. He had asked Noel to meet him outside, in front of the drug store but now he couldn't possibly make it. Noel might wait for him for a few minutes but she wouldn't wait half an hour. To be quite honest, she might not come at all, but since he couldn't be here anyhow, he had no chance at all. His spirits hit the bottom but this was a rather familiar feeling. He had never been very lucky.
"Well...." Mr. Morrell said, and he sounded impatient.
"I'm supposed to get off at nine," Joe muttered.
"When you take on a responsibility, you shoulder it," Mr. Morrell said. "If you want to get ahead in the world, you do what the job requires. That is something you must learn."
Joe had heard that before. Mr. Morrell was a great moralist. He knew all the trite things to say about work, and industry, and honesty, and devotion, and Joe wondered if the man would keep Sue after hours tonight and take her to the back part of the supply room. He probably would. This was a good chance for another tumble.
"Did you hear me, Joe?" Mr. Morrell said.
"Yes sir. I heard you," Joe said. And he took the two small packages.
"Be careful with the money," Mr. Morrell said.
"I'll be careful with it."
He turned away, headed for the door, and as he passed Sue he made a wry comment. "The joint's yours."
"Good night, infant," Sue answered.
He went outside. It was a warm, clear night. Some of the gang were around but he didn't see Noel and it was ten to nine. If she had been there, he could have explained why he had to leave. He could have left a message with someone else, but a guy didn't advertise his dates. Besides, you shouldn't make a date seem important. All he could do was hurry off, make his deliveries, and then hurry back. There was a vague chance Noel would be here when he got back.
He picked one of the addresses and headed that way. It was one of the new apartment buildings, not a ritzy place but nice. And it had elevators. He didn't have to climb the stairs.
He reached the proper apartment, tang the buzzer, and as he waited, he noticed the name on the package. Mrs. Olga Parkington. It sounded important. And important people, or people who wanted to be considered important sometimes came up with a tip. He could always absorb a tip.
The door opened and the moment he saw Olga Parkington he gave up any idea of a tip. The woman was Short, dumpy, and not at all attractive even though she was wearing a red, silky negligee. Her hair was gray and frizzy and she was wearing too much lipstick, too much rouge, and too much perfume. She had a cackling voice. "Oh, you're the young man from the drug store. I'm so glad you came. How much is it?"
He looked down at the package, read the price. "It's one fifty, Mrs. Parkington."
"One fifty, I'm surprised. But come on in. I'll see if I can find my purse."
"I'll just wait here," Joe answered.
"Nonsense." She waved her hand. "Come on in and sit down somewhere. I declare I don't know what I've done with my purse. But it has to be around here somewhere."
She looked at him curiously. "You're not afraid to come in?"
"It isn't that, ma'am. I'm just not supposed to go in anyone's apartment. It's sort of a regulation."
"A silly regulation," the woman said. "But if you wait there I'll see if I can hurry."
She scurried from the room, probably to the bedroom, and Joe waited. He thought, bitterly: This is what I should have expected. Anything to delay me and keep me from getting back to Noel. This woman can't find her purse. The next one will most likely want to argue about the charges.
He waited another minute, and another, and finally the woman reappeared, but she hadn't found her purse. She seemed quite flustered. "I just don't know what to do, young man. I know I haven't lost my purse. It's here in the apartment somewhere. I know it is. Why do you have to wait out there in the hall? You would be much more comfortable in here."
Joe made a quick decision. Maybe it wasn't a good decision, but he wasn't going to stand here all night. He still had to make another delivery.
He held the package up. "I have one more package to be delivered, Mrs. Partington. While you're hunting for your money I'll take care of this order. I can come back later."
She beamed, nodded. "Splendid, young man. I'm sure I'll find my purse before you come back. Don't be too long."
"No, ma'am."
He swung away, hurried to the elevator. He wasn't going to wait here forever. And he wouldn't be back tonight. Instead, he would stop in the morning, before noon. He was taking a chance, he knew. Tomorrow the woman might declare she had paid him. People did things like that. He might have to put up the dollar and a half himself, but he couldn't be expected to wait here forever.
He hurried to the second address. It was in another elevator building, new and modern. The name attached to the address was Mrs. Serena O'Bannion. That last name was as Irish as possible, but it was a married name. The first name, Serena, didn't tell him anything. And he really wasn't interested. He only hoped that Mrs. Serena O'Bannion hadn't lost her purse.
He rang the buzzer on her door and waited. He gupled when the door was opened. The woman standing there was more than an eyeful. Tall, slender, young and beautiful, she was in the shortest of shorts. Above a bare midriff was a scanty halter. The material could hardly contain her breasts. They seemed about to spill over the top.
Her skin was nicely tanned and he could see a lot of that. Her face, at a single glance, was beautiful with full, wide lips, deep blue eyes, and above her forehead a wealth of blonde hair.
Joe tried to see everything at once. He gulped again, holding the package. He stammered, "I-I . .
The woman laughed. It had a musical sound. Then she spoke. "You must be from the drug store-and those things in the package must be for me. Am I right?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Come on in," the woman said. "I want to check things."
Joe forgot he wasn't supposed to enter anyone's apartment. He stepped inside, gave the woman the package., "Close the door," the woman said. "Then come on in here."
Joe closed the door and as the woman left the small foyer he couldn't help noticing the way she walked. That was nothing new. Sue walked that way. Lots of other women did, swaying their hips. But the way this woman did that was unusual. And exciting. Joe followed her into the parlor. He didn't want to miss any of this.
The woman stopped. She was looking at the package. After a moment she said, "Eight fifty. Is that right?"
"Yes ma'am," Joe answered.
She looked around. "I don't like being called ma'am. It makes me sound too old. I'll bet I'm not much older than you. How old are you?"
Joe added a year. "Eighteen, ma'...."
She smiled. "Well, I am a little older than that. But not too much. Umm, I wonder...."
She was looking at him, looking him up and down. His blood was already pumping hard enough. Now his heart was really pounding.
She spoke again. "I wonder if you can do something for me? I'd have to be able to trust you."
"I'll do anything," Joe answered and he gulped for the third time. He meant what he had said. He had forgotten about wanting to hurry back to the corner, to see if Noel was there. He was wholly at the command of this gorgeous creature who had caught his attention.
She made a sound in her throat. "Umm, I'll think about that for a moment. Wait there until I call you."
She made her smile even more dazzling, turned down a corridor and left the room.
Joe took a deep breath. He wanted that to be a steadying breath but he couldn't feel its' effects. He felt hot and cold in turn. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he shouldn't be here. He should collect the eight fifty, and leave promptly, but if this woman asked him to do something, he would risk anything. What was that she had said, just as she left? "Wait here until I call you!" He took another deep breath.
Another thought crossed his mind. This woman's name was Mrs. Serena O'Bannion. That implied a husband who might be around somewhere. Or who might walk in. He ought to remember that, but he wasn't sure he could.
Her voice, floating down the corridor, startled him. "Can you come here for a moment?"
Could he? You bet he could. He headed for the corridor, and down the dark corridor he saw a lighted doorway. The light wasn't very bright, but that must be the place from which the woman had called.
The room was a dimly lighted bedroom.
The woman was sitting on the bed.
She spoke to him as he appeared. "What's your name?"
"Joe Banning."
"All right, Joe. My name's Serena. You don't mind this, do you?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Then come on over here. You can't rub my back from the doorway."
"Rub your back?"
"Oh, that's right. I didn't say what I wanted. My back is hurting and Oliver isn't here. Oliver is my husband. If he was here he would rub that, but he is in Chicago. He can't rub my back from there, can he? That's why I need you."
"I don't know much about backs," Joe said.
"There's really nothing to this," Serena said. "I can tell you what to do but you'll have to walk over here."
He started toward her and he knew his face was red, and that he was short of breath, but he couldn't help that. He was going to rub Serena's back. She would be lying on the bed, and he would be with her-and his imagination was running away.
She got onto the middle of the bed and lay there on her stomach. She had been wearing sandals but she had kicked them off. She was still wearing a halter, shorts, and light panties underneath. That wasn't very much.
She spoke to him as he reached the bed. "Sit down, Joe. Don't be bashful. This is going to make me feel wonderful. There is a jar of cold cream right here on the bed, near my head. Put some on your hands, then start rubbing. But first, maybe, you ought to unbutton the halter and move the bands out of the way."
"I ... I'm not sure how well I'll do this," Joe said.
"You'll do fine," Serena said.
He leaned toward her, unbuttoned the back strap of the halter, pushed that aside, and now, looking down, he could see the rounded edges of her breasts. Her skin, right there, was very white.
He gulped. This was gulp number four, or maybe there had been more. He told himself, Don't look. Just don't. If you do....
He didn't finish the thought. Instead he reached for the cold cream, put some on his fingers, and started rubbing Serena's back.
He rubbed and rubbed, not hard, but gently.
He rubbed all the way up to her shoulders and all the way down to the top of her shorts.
He rubbed over the sides, getting close to the edges of her breasts.
Her skin was warm, smooth, and finely grained. There was a nice dip at the waist and when he felt over the sides he could have measured her ribs. Her neck wasn't very long, but thin, and her shoulders seemed thin.
After a long time, the woman spoke. "I'm almost asleep, Joe. Are you tired?"
He could laugh now. He was a little steadier. "No, I'm not tired."
"This has been wonderful."
"I'm glad."
"I wonder...."
"What?"
"Do you really mean that-that you're not tired?"
"No. I'm not tired."
"If I turn over-I think I will."
She rolled away and moved back, and in the process she pushed aside the halter which had already been unbuttoned. This left her bare to the waist, exposed her breasts, and all Joe could do was look at them.
A moment ago he had felt steadier, but that period was gone. His breathing picked up, Ins blood pounded harder and he felt shaky all over. Now was the time for another gulp.
Serena was looking at him. He could feel her looking at him, then he heard her low laugh and heard her voice. "They're just breasts, Joe. They're nothing special."
"I think they are," Joe said, and he blinked nervously. "I think they're very special."
"Why, thank you, Joe."
He could look nowhere else but at the white mounds, beautifully round but dipping just a bit around the darkened nipples. Small, wrinkled nipples, and with dark circles around them.
Serena spoke again. "You're not through, are you? I like to be rubbed."
"But...."
"Do they bother you-my breasts?"
"They take up a lot of room."
She laughed again. "Don't be afraid of them. They don't bite. Here, give me your hand."
She reached for one of his hands, moved that to her breasts, and pressed the palm firmly over one of the mounds. That was enough to start him. The hand, of itself, made a circular motion. His palm drummed over one of the nipples.
"Umm-very good," Serena said.
He looked at her face. "Do you know what I'm going to do?"
Her eyes were steady. "I think so."
"I'm going to kiss you."
"It's about time."
"You expected me to?"
"Certainly I did. I thought you would rub my body and if you liked me, you wouldn't stop there. Why should you?"
"You mean...."
"Aren't you going to kiss me?"
Her arms were reaching toward him as she was speaking and maybe she pulled his head down, or maybe he got down there himself. Whatever the motive force, he found his lips right at hers, and she held him there for a long, stirring kiss. At the same time he was fumbling with her breasts and those nipples seemed to have lifted up to stand much higher.
He drew away and looked at her, but her eyes were closed. And he said, "My clothes-you don't mind...."
"Get rid of them," Serena answered. "Get rid of them quickly."
He did. He had never undressed any faster, and all the time there was a song in his head. That's going to happen tonight. That's going to happen in just a few minutes. A real tumble. The first one of his life. And what a prize he had picked. No awkward school girl-not one of the hags who walked the streets. Here was a real princess.
His clothes were gone and he was on the bed with her. He was kissing her again, one hand again at her soft, warm flesh against his corded muscles. He hadn't noticed that happening, but while he had been stripping off his clothes she had slipped out of her shorts and panties, which was wonderful. He felt along her body and there was nothing to stop him now.
She was just as good about that as he was. Both of her hands were where they belonged and she used both hands to guide him.
There was no problem at all. Her arms were around his shoulders, holding him steady. He needed that. That body of hers kept moving, swinging, swaying, stirring him to a higher level than he had ever reached.
Then when he was right at the top and he wanted to hold back, he couldn't, so he let go, and what a moment! What a grand moment!
That must have hit her the same way, and almost at the same time. Her arms tightened and she held herself against him as though trying to hold him forever. She was breathing fast but so was he.
This was all right, this was wonderful.
He was going to want a lot more of this.
What a great thing this was to be alive and not to be alone.
He waited as she grew quiet, and her breathing slowed as she relaxed. She had dropped her arms and now, as she moved slightly to the side, he rolled away and stretched out beside her.
After a time she spoke. "That was very fine, Joe. I hope you are not angry."
"Angry?" He was surprised. "Why should I be angry? "
"At being seduced."
He smiled. "Was that what happened?"
"Certainly that was. I called you into the bedroom, got you onto the bed, and then got you interested."
"So I was seduced."
"Definitely."
He laughed. "I could take more of that."
"Umm. Do you have to go somewhere?"
"Not for a long time."
"Then that'll probably happen again. And maybe again. I am a demanding woman."
"I'm a demanding man."
"Yes you are."
He could smile to himself. This was the first time he had ever had a woman, and if she didn't know, then he must have really been good. He said to himself, Go to the head of the class, Joe. Maybe you're not the best man in town, but you're right at the top, and never doubt that. You'll even do better as time goes on. Noel? Sure, he'd take her as soon as he could, but here was what he wanted. Women like Serena. Or Sue.
He laughed, and turned, and put one hand to Serena's breasts. Then he raised up a little and looked at the full length of her body. Yes, she was all right.
"What's the rush?" Serena asked. "You're not ready yet."
"How do you know?"
"Then I'm not ready."
"When do I have to go home?"
"That's up to you. Oliver won't get home until tomorrow afternoon."
"I hope you're sure about that."
"I am."
"Can I see you again?"
"You had better. If you don't, I'll send after you and when I get you, I'll punish you."
"How?"
"I'll tease you. I'll make you beg, then I'll say no."
"You wouldn't be like that."
"But I will."
He leaned back and took her into his arms, and even though she was older than he was, way up in the twenties, he was big enough to hold her and make her seem smaller and like someone who belonged to him. That was great to feel that way.
He laughed, but not out loud. He was no longer a neophyte in the world of love. He had grown up quickly. He had done so with a top woman. Some of the gang might have had more experience, but he doubted if any had reached a place like this. Here was a real woman, one he could boast about.
He would lie here, give her a little more time to rest, then move at her with deft, sure movements. He would get her wild with his kissing, and with his caressing of her breasts. He would move just like the first time, but with more assurance, with more command. He knew just the steps to follow.
Joe Banning, in his own mind, was really on his way and he wasn't going to stake out any limits.