Chapter 9

I WAS THROBBING WITH DESIRE FOR THIS WOMAN....

How I got through the dinner that evening, I'll never know. I tried to direct my conversation to Odell for the most part in order to avoid looking at Estelle. I know she sensed it and must have thought that I did not like her. I ignored her to the point of being almost rude. When I did glance at her beautiful face, my heart started pounding, I fumbled with my fork and knife, dropped my food. It was most embarrassing.

I was thankful that Odell had a bug up his ass about doing a story about a young guy like me who was obsessed about sex and was on his own from the time he was seventeen years old. He did most of the talking during dinner, and I just kept agreeing with everything he said, because my mind was not on what he was saying. It was on his beautiful wife, who sat at the opposite end of the table. I sat in the middle. When I directed my attention to Odell ... or pretended to ... I did not have to be tortured by the sight of Estelle.

After dinner we retired to the rathskeller for a nightcap. Odell was in the habit of watching the news on TV, which we did over a brandy. During the news, it was announced that Senator D.'-'s daughter died in the hospital as a result of injuries received in a car accident.

I went numb. Then my stomach started turning over and I felt I was going to be sick. It was all in my mind, however. I excused myself saying I was very tired and needed sleep. Actually I just had to be alone. Once in my room. I sat in an armchair with my head in my hands, unable to think straight, unable to feel anything. My mind was a turmoil of guilt and grief. My heart ached for a young girl I had indirectly destroyed, and at the same time my body craved the wife of my best friend. I could not control the animal craving of the dark, tortured soul I possessed. I was a helpless prey to the demands of the sensuous animal within me.

I slept until almost noon the next day. I was awakened by a knock at the door. I slept nude, thinking it was probably Odell, I pulled up the covers and instructed the visitor to come in.

To my startled dismay, it was Estelle!

She entered the room carrying a breakfast tray. "Good morning, sleepy-head!" She crossed to the bed and placed the breakfast tray on my lap. It contained eggs, bacon, orange juice and piping hot coffee.

"What are you trying to do?" I asked. "Spoil me?"

"No, but I would like to convince you to stay with us for a few days ... until you get settled."

I took a quick sip of the steaming black brew in the coffee cup and swallowed nervously, then I glanced up at Estelle. She was sitting on the edge of the bed regarding me with a cold eye. "I don't want to wear out my welcome right off. In a couple of months, I'll be over here all the time to see Odell and you'll be sick of me."

Her eyelashes blinked. "Well, I hope you'll be coming to see me too, Archer. I hope you will consider me your friend too."

"Oh, I do, Estelle," I assured her quickly.

She eyed me for a moment in silence. "You don't approve of me, do you?"

I gulped hard. "What makes you say that?"

"Last night at the dinner table, you did your best to ignore me."

I couldn't have her thinking that I disliked her. I had to explain things so that she understood. "No Estelle, believe me, it's just the op-psite. I'm sure Odell has told you about me and this thing I have for women. The trouble is I like you too much, Estelle."

A momentary frown crossed her face. "You mean you want to go to bed with me, Archer?"

"Yes," I admitted openly. "Yes, I would. And because Odell is my friend, I wouldn't want to do anything to hurt him ... or endanger that friendship."

Estelle laughed lightly, as if she did not take me seriously. At least she was doing a good job of letting me know she was not afraid of being alone with me. "You know what I think, Archer? I think young men like you really hate women subconsciously and you only want to hurt them."

"That's generalizing, Estelle. It doesn't include all men. It doesn't include me. I love women. I know I've hurt some, but I never did it intentionally ... or I did it for their own good."

"You see. You can't help it," Estelle retorted. "I'm not convinced, Archer. I can spot a misogynist a mile way."

"Please, Estelle, don't think of me that way. Wait until you get to know me better."

"Well, that's why I want to stay with us a few days. It will give us a chance to become friends." She stood up and crossed to the window." I need a friend right now. Archer ... somebody I can talk to ... somebody who knows Odell."

"Why? Is something wrong?"

I was shocked to learn that one of Estelle's chief problems was Odell's inadequacy as a lover. "It's only been in the last year," she told me. "I've tried to get him to go to a doctor, but he refuses. It's his male pride or some equally stupid reason. I don't think it's anything serious. It may be his drinking, or it may be his metabolism ... something that can be corrected."

She was telling me that she was starved for love ... that she was being denied in the marriage bed. She was letting me know exactly how accessible she was. Her lovely eyes peered into mine and an electric current shot through my loins. I could feel a growing erection underneath the bed sheets.

Estelle turned her back to me and stared out of the window. A moment later her back and shoulders were shaking and I knew she was crying. I had an overwhelming desire to comfort her.

"Where is Odell?" I asked softly.

"He went into town to arrange to have the gas and lights turned on in your place, and to arrange for a telephone." Her voice was filled with bitterness and despair.

I lifted the tray off my lap and placed it to one side af the bed. I then threw back the bed sheets and slipped out of the bed. As I said I was naked ... and my joint was throbbing with anticipation and desire for this woman. It was impossible to subdue my ardor.

As I crossed to her, Estelle had her back to me. Standing directly behind her, I placed my arms around her waist, inadvertently lifting it so that my hand touched her left breast, I felt an instantaneous surge of desire. I stepped back and started to move away. But the next thing I knew, Estelle had turned around and was staring down at my pulsating joint. Then her arm reached out and was pulling at my shoulder, drawing me closer to her. A moment later, and a vow was broken. She was kissing me passionately, her hot tongue sinuously curling around mine. My hands began to knead the softness of her breasts. "Mmmm" she murmured, without breaking our kiss. She ripped her housecoat open, exposing the resilient mounds of her small firm breasts to my hands. I grabbed her shoulders, spun her about and backed her up to the bed. She fell back and I sprang on top of her.

Now her fingers were all over me, touching, stroking, probing. One hand moved gently over my chest, rubbing my nipples, while her other hand ventured between my legs, grabbed my joint and squeezed it hard.

She was trembling violently and moaned as I licked her ears and her neck. Then I moved to her breasts and playfully bit the rigid flesh around her nipples. For some time I sucked her breasts, and then moved downward, trailing my tongue over the smooth soft plains of her belly. She gasped when I reached down to her apex. She threw her legs apart violently. Then a few more strokes later, she closed her legs around my bobbing head.

As I continued to make love to her with my tongue, she raised her head slightly, screamed, then covered her mouth with her hand and fell back on the bed. She kept moaning steadily.

I stretched out beside her and waited, my legs spread apart. After an interminable time. Estelle rose and poised herself over me, her fine, firm small breasts dangling. She lowered herself allowing the swinging mounds of flesh to touch me and torment me. Now it was my turn to moan.

Estelle moved slowly sideways over my joint, back and forth. She was panting steadily now as she paused to stare at her objective, hot-eyed. With a deep sigh, she swooped down on me, her soft oval-shaped mouth burning, grazing, tormenting the flesh of my rod with her teeth and tongue.

She clawed at my thighs, never losing what she held in her mouth. Her pace then began to quicken. As a result of her storke, I bucked and emitted a low groan. She was draining me to the core. But I did not object. For the love of this woman, I would submit to anything.

I would even be her slave.

All thoughts of Laura vanished. Present passions quickly replaced past nightmares. This woman needed me as desperately as I needed her.

At the intersection, behind the wheel of my Mustang, I shot across the highway onto a dirt road. I drove over the bumps for about a half mile before I pulled into a rutted, weed-gown driveway beside the small, weathered white shack that my family had worked most of their live to own. I withdrew my suitcases from the back seat of the car and strode purposefully across the shaggy green and brown lawn to the rickety porch. Inside, I was pleasantly surprised. Estelle had arranged to have the place cleaned up. She herself had put up new curtains at the windows, and added homey touches here and there which helped to make the place liveable. All these things had been done in secret trips, while I remained as a guest at Odell's house.

The kitchen was neat and clean. All the dishes and cups had been washed and put away. It wasn't a palace, but it was comfortable far beyond what I imagined would be possible. Odell had arranged for the gas and lights, so I was able to make myself a cup of coffee.

Flopping troubled and exhausted into a chair in the sitting room, I sipped at my steaming cup of coffee while I contemplated a few of my immediate problems. Odell's marriage to Estelle was on the brink of breaking up. I could not add to its desrtuction. That meant I had to stay away from Estelle. The more I saw of her, the more I would want her. I could not be responsible for ruining another's happiness, not again, especially not Odell's. It was still haunted by guilt over Laura's death.

I had to keep myself busy, my mind occupied. Painting seemed like the right kind of therapy. I was thankful that I had the sense to take my paints and canvasses with me when I made my hasty departure from Frisco.

Immediately I started to prepare a canvas. I laid out my paints, and then over a second cup of coffee, I sat speculating over a subject to paint.

There was a timid knock at the door.

I opened the door to discover a young girl, about nineteen years old smiling up at me. "Hi! I just wanted to know if everything's all right."

She had a close crop of blonde hair framing an angelic face with one of the most winning smile I have ever seen. "What's everything." I questioned, completely puzzled.

"The place," she replied. "My name is Judy Criswell. I live just across the road from you. Sometimes I babysit for Mrs. Odell Brown. I've been helping her get your place in order."

"Oh, yes. Everything is fine, Judy," I returned happily. She stood in the doorway hinting to be invited in. Young as she was, she did not look like a student. Her manner was more mature. She wore a light green mini-skirt that fit snugly over her swelling hips and pointing breasts. She was a living doll. "Would you like to come in?"

Her small round buttocks undulated tantalizingly in a slow, saucy rhythm as she moved into the room. "Gee, I'm certainly glad somebody is living here now. This place has been vacant for so long."

"It belonged to my parents," I explained.

"I know. Your mother was a very sweet woman. When your father died, she was very lonely. I used to come over and talk to her. She told me all about you."

"Can I offer you a cup of coffee," I said eagerly.

"Yes, thank you. But let me get it." She noticed my paints and canvas. "I don't want to interrupt anything."

I felt a tremor of excitement race through me. I thought, here I go again. "You weren't interrupting anything, Judy," I said to her. "I was just waiting for you." She looked at me quizzically. "Are you busy this afternoon?"

She gave me the coy glance of a girl who is covering a suspicious nature. "What did you have in mind?"

"Would you sit for me. I need a subject."

"Oh sure," she reacted enthusiastically. "Nobody's ever painted my picture."

"I'll pay you a dollar an hour."

"A dollar an hour ... just for sitting?" she exclaimed. Then a thought occurred to her. She withdrew toward the kitchen and her happy expression changed to one of doubt. "I don't have to pose in the nude, do I?"

I laughed. "No, you don't' have to pose in the nude."

"Good. You got yourself a model." She crossed into the kitchen. She seemed to know where everything was I'll put on the kettle and make us coffee first.

I thought to myself, this girl would be handy to have around ... if I could just keep my hands off her ... and keep everything on a platonic level for a change.

Judy returned from the kitchen with two mugs of fresh-perked coffee which she set down on the coffee table. They both have milk and sugar. She informed me. "One lump of sugar in yours."

"How did you know I like milk and one lump of sugar?"

"Your mother told me. I know everything about you, Mr. Nelson. I've even seen pictures of you, naked, as a baby." She seated herself on the sofa and removed a package of cigarettes from her dress pocket.

I brought out my lighter with a trembling hand. Judy steadied it with her own. The touch of her soft, youthful fingers sent waves of desire through me. Inhaling deeply, Judy looked up at me, a meaningful glint in her dark blue eyes. I took out a cigarette for myself, dropped it on the floor, fumbled it to my mouth and clumsily lit it.

After we had coffee, I positioned her in a chair where the light was good. Then I sat in front of her with the canvas balanced on my knee and began to sketch in her head and shoulders. The more I studied her, the more lovely she seemed to me.

"Do you live with your parents, Judy?"

"My mother. My father is dead. Last week my aunt, my mother's older sister, came to visit us and now we can't get rid of her."

"Isn't she company for your mother? I mean, doesn't she help out?"

"Lord no," Judy replied adamently. "She makes more work for us. She's a drag." She went on to explain that her aunt Cleo was in her fifties and had never been married. She was very neurotic. "She doesn't drink. She can't stand me smoking. It makes her cough. I've had to get rid of my cat. She's scared to death to turn on a light or touch wires. She's afraid of electrocuted."

"Wow," I commented. "She is a nut!"

"That's an understatement," Judy continued. "Another thing, she's afraid to sleep alone. She's got some quirk about a man breaking into the house and trying to rape her while she's sleeping. So mother and I have to take turns sleeping in the same room with her. And she snores." She had an adorable girlish giggle that was enchanting.

"Why does your mother put up with it?" I asked, absorbing every inch of Judy with my eyes. "Why don't you just kick her out?"

"Mother feels sorry for her," Judy replied. "Whatever mother tells her that she has to go, Aunt Cleo breaks into hysterical tears and threatens to commit suicide because nobody loves her. I believe once she did take an overdose of sleeping pills and they had to pump out her stomach." She giggled again. "The poor old thing ... I do feel sorry for her, but she drives me bats sometimes."

"You ought to try to find her a man," I suggested.

Judy burst into laughter. "Oh, if a man comes near her she has a heart attack. Honestly! She paused to allow her laughter to subside, then sighed deeply. "That's why I'm so glad you've moved in."

"Why?" I chuckled. "Do you think Aunt Cleo will see me and have a heart attack?"

"Oh, Lord," Judy screamed. "You know that could happen. But what I mean is ... it's nice to have a neighbor I can visit occasionally."

"You come over any time you want to, Judy," I said invitingly.

"I hope you mean that, Mr. Nelson. It would mean a lot to me, but I hope I can be of some help to you."

"You are," I replied. "Where could I find such a lovely model to pose for me."

Judy leaped out of her chair gleefully. "Mrs. Brown said you were absolutely wonderful ... and very handsome. And you know something. You are." She leaned over without warning and kissed my cheek.

A thrill shot through me and seemed to electrify my blood all the way down to my toes, "Thank you, young lady."

"Let me wait on you," she suggested, as she offered a cigarette and lighted it for me. "If you can spare me for a few minutes, I'll pour you another cup of coffee. Would you like that?"

I leaned back, smiling, and inhaled smoke as I studied her cheerful, refreshing face. As I stared at her I saw a flush spreading over her lovely features. "I think I would like anything you do, Judy."

"Thank you for the compliment," she said as she darted into the kitchen and return a moment later. "I think it's important for a girl my age to be around an older man ... So I know what a man likes. I mean, someday I'll be getting married. Lord, I'd hate to wind up like Aunt Cleo."

She bubbled when she talked. That's the only way to describe her to you. She was a lot like Laura, only not as knowledgeable or sophisticated. She had had none of the finer things in life, and yet she was grateful for so little, and had a zest for living that was so damned disarming I dropped my sketch pencil, put down my easel and just sat looking and listening to her with my mouth open and drooling.

"Oh, are you giving up so soon," she asked. "I'm not tired." She went back to her chair and assumed her position.

"I just thought that we would sit and talk for awhile," I explained.

"No," she replied firmly. "That's no good. When you start something, you should finish it. Mrs. Brown said you were very restless. What you need is somebody like me around to shame you into working."

"Oh, I want to do this painting," I assured her. "You're the most interesting subject I've had in a long time. But couldn't we relax for awhile, talk and get to know each other?"

"We can get to know each other while you're working," she said bossily.

"Yes, ma'am," I said and resumed sketching.

"If we aren't busy doing something," she chattered on, "pretty soon you'll be looking at me and I'll be looking at you ... and first thing you know we'll .both get ideas. We'll get all heated up-and that would spoil our entire relationship."

"Would it?" I said.

"Of course it would," she replied. "Love is something very special between two people. You have to work at it and let it grow gradually. I have sex urges, just like you, but I don't jump into bed with the first man I see because he appeals to me."

"Do I appeal to you, Judy?"

She released a tiny girlish squeal. "Oh, do you; I've never met a man of the world like you before."

"You're not afraid of me?"

"No, you're very nice. Why should I be afraid of you?" The fact that you're oversexed I think is quite interesting."

"Now how do you know I'm oversexed?" I found her remark quite alarming. I began to wonder if I was that obvious to all women.

"You're mother told me all about you. She said it was her fault that you're the way you are, and I think I understand why you have this terrible drive."

I was stunned by this bit of information. "Just what exactly did my mother tell you?"

"Oh, everything!" she answered wide-eyed and innocently. "I don't know if I know you well enough to discuss it. Do you think it would be okay if I called you Archer. I like that name, incidentally."

"Please, feel free to call me Archer, if you think it will put us on a more personal basis." She could be quite exasperating at time, but it was always overshadowed by her exuberant manner and youth.

"Thank you, Archer. I guess it is sort of silly not to discuss things openly. It's unhealthy, don't you think. I mean why should sex be a big deep dark mystery. I think that's what's wrong with Aunt Cleo."

Judy, as you were saying ... about what my mother told you."

"Oh, well, she said you were a beautiful big baby. She wanted you to grow up to be strong and very manly, a man that all women would fall in love with. So when you were still just a baby, she said used to massage your ... thing."

"Massage what thing?"

"You know your thing." She leaned forward in her chair and whispered, "Your penis."

I think I must have blushed purple. "My mother told you she did this?"

"Yes, she said it was an old Greek custom. Mothers did it to insure that their sons would be virile, and so their penises would grow long, and they would be able to have many children. By massaging it at an early age, your mother said it stretched and developed too early in your childhood and that your sexual prowess was attained while you were still a growing boy. But she was very proud of you, Archer. She said, whatever wrong my son has done, he is a man, not a sissy."

I gulped hard. This was something I had never known before, and it had come out in a casual conversation with a nineteen year old girl. It might have taken a phychiatrist ten years to get to the root of my problem. This revelation left me speechless. I felt terribly exposed. I got up from my chair, dropping the canvas to the seat, and crossed to gaze out the door.

Judy followed me over to the door. She took my hand and squeezed it gently. "Don't be ashamed, Archer," she said softly. "There's nothing wrong with being oversexed, once you decide to spend the rest of your life with one woman."

She summed it up so simply and beautifully. She was a rare child with deep sensitivity and insight. It came to her naturally, without pretentions or phony airs. I stared at her unbelievingly. This young and delightful creature, whom I had known for less than an hour, had hit at the root of my problem.

"Are you angry wtih me for telling you what I did," she said softly.

"No, Judy. I'm very grateful to you."

"If it will make you feel any better," she bubbled on, "I'll tell you a secret about me ... something I've had a terrible time fighting. I'm a virgin! Now are you ready for that ... a girl my age in this day and age when morals are so low and sex is an every day occurrence?"

I couldn't help smiling at her. "Are you ashamed of it?"

"No, I'm not, Archer. I don't think a person should ever be ashamed of what they are. That goes for you too. If I were you, I'd be proud of what I was. Like your mother said, you're a man ... all man. With all the queers there are around today, that's something to boast about."

She had such a sweet way of making everything seem right. "How do you feel about a guy like me, Judy. Aren't you afraid I might attack you?"

She giggled again. "Well, I'll tell you something, I'd be very upset with myself, if you didn't try. And if you did, I wouldn't be afraid of you. I'm sure if I said no, you're the kind of gentleman who would respect my wishes."

"You mean you don't' think I hate women and deliberately try to hurt them."

"Never. You couldn't. You're a charmer, Archer, but not a brute."

I crossed back into the room, brushing past her. As I did my arm touched the tips of her extremely pointed breasts. It was all I could do to keep from grabbing her right then. Only my desire to be respected by her kept me from obey-iny my sexual impulses. I reached for a cigarette off the coffee table, popped it into my mouth and offered one to her. She crossed to me closer and accepted one appreciatively.

"You're a nice kid, Judy. I like you, but I wouldn't want you to have any illusions about me."

You wouldn't believe what this kid replied. She said, "Archer, I can't afford illusions. I have to look at things the way they are."

Can you imagine a broad reeking with sexual allure, who was this profound? I can't. I had to put it to the test. No woman has ever refused me-at least not once they got a gander at me stripped. I think woman the world over are basically the same. You can beat them, cheat on them, starve them, force them to go to work and support you. You can tell them you're a thief, a murderer, and it won't matter. As long as you shove a joint into them regularly, they'll stick by you. Stick by you, hell. You can't get rid of them.

The question remaining was how different was Judy from the rest of the woman I have known.

I had to find out.

Without warning, I grabbed Judy and crushed her plump curves against me. I brought my mouth down and was immediately rewarded with the stab of her eager, energetic tongue. We dueled silently, in a passionate struggle that soon had us both panting hoarsely.

My hands slid down to her swelling buttocks and began to knead and prod the resilient flesh.

Judy moaned and stiffened in my arms. I lightly nibbled on her tongue. Judy flooded my mouth and playfully bit back.

My right hand moved to her great soft breasts, first one and then the other.

I squeezed hard, and felt her flesh grow rigid against my palm. My hand kept going from her right breast to the left one.

Moaning again, Judy began to rub her groin against mine. God, she was almost as hot as I was!

I stepped back a little and reached a hand under Judy's miniskirt to stroke the nylon covered hillock at the conjunction of her well-developed, youthful thighs.

Judy, greedily sucking on my tongue, swung her hand down to the front of my trousers, grasping my joint desperately, squeezing it tightly.

I grunted like a bull and began to pull down her thin panties. The second she felt my hand tugging away, she pulled back and stepped away from me.

"No, Archer ... that's as far as I go until we know each other better."

Hallelujah! She refused me. But it wasn't enough. Let her eye my joint and then refuse me. No woman ... or man ... ever had had enough principles to turn their backs on my sexual deformity.

Mama's creation!

I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my fly and exposed myself to Judy. It stopped her cold at first. She stood gaping. Her body was rigid, her hands were trembling. Then she took a deep sigh and closed her eyes. A moment later her body relaxed. I moved toward her, one step at a time, but she did not panic. Instead she searched my eyes for understanding. When I was standing so close to her I could feel her breath, she slowly raised her arms and cupped my face in her hands.

"No, Archer," she said tenderly. "If I didn't think that I could love you, I might say yes." With that she kissed me warmly on the lips, then broke and ran out of the shack.

She astounded me! She was the first girl who had ever said "no." It was unbelievable!