Chapter 10

Claudia did not go out of the room that day. She knew she would have to leave the Negro's apartment and vanish from his life forever. But where to go this time? Life had been one man after another to her since she had left home. It was good to leave the confining ties of home and soar off on experimental flights of your own, but somehow you always tired of endless flitting about like a bee, stopping here and there on the way to sip a little honey. It all led to nowhere. Claudia had had her share of men. She knew what they were. A quotation came to her: "Halfway between the gutter and the stars . . . " She had lost her illusions about men along with life in general, and perhaps it was all for the best.

She picked up a section of a newspaper that was scattered about on the floor. She looked idly through it. The same old stuff! "Drunken Laborer Slays Family of Five"; "Chorine Says Wealthy Scion Promised her Marriage"; "PJ.

J. Valgerholtz Predicts Upswing in Business by Spring." She was sick of it all. She turned another page, and her heart stood still. The type undulated in waves before her horrified eyes. "John Fenton, Weil-Known Rural Physician, Ailing." She crushed the paper in her hands. Her father was ill, perhaps dying, and she-she was in a Negro's apartment, her body still aching from his caresses.

She threw her things together and ran out of the hotel. She waved to a cab and was soon careening madly to the La Salle Street Station. Fortunately a train was leaving in half an hour. Claudia purchased a few magazines to make the journey less nerve-wracking and settled herself in the train. But she couldn't read. A wave of sudden nostalgia swept over her. Home . . . why hadn't she thought of that before?

The drab outbuildings of the city were quickly left behind as the train rolled toward home. Gradually the open fields began to rush into view, with here a horse and cow, and there a litter of pigs. The land began to lose its flatness, and green hills broke up the level monotony. The sun began to sink in the west, and the sky broke out into a riot of color. It grew dark and peace descended over the lonely girl with every mile she left behind. Already the memory of the past was growing dim. She was looking toward the future.

At last the train rumbled into the station. Claudia was home! She got into one of the rickety old cabs which stood near the station and she was soon wheeling through the odorous darkness.

"Where to, Miss?" asked old Andy at the wheel.

"The Fenton place," she directed him.

He turned and looked over his shoulder in surprise. "The old doctor is a mighty sick man. Why, for goodness sakes! It's little Claudia Fenton."

"Yes, it's I, Andy." Claudia pressed her gloved hand upon his arm. "Stop a minute."

He halted the car and she got out of the back seat and sat beside him. "How is he, Andy?"

"He's a pretty sick man, I guess. Your absence didn't help none neither," he told her, his voice filled with reproach.

"That's all right," she told him. "I'm home now."

He drew up to the old rambling house and helped her with her bag. With a wave of his hand in farewell, he meshed his gears and left her standing in the darkness. She was home. Her knees buckled beneath her as she climbed the stairs. She hesitated a long time before she lifted the quaint old-fashioned knocker on the door. How would they receive her? What would they say? What would she say?

A face appeared at the window, the door swung open and Claudia faced her mother with tears streaming down her cheeks. Neither said a word, but clung to each other, united by silent affection.

Her return lifted the old doctor out of the dark alley into which he had fallen, and soon he was well onto the road to recovery. Claudia was filled with remorse when she realized how much suffering she had caused her parents.

After all, she was an only child, and she had come late in her parents' life.

Gradually she drifted back into the life she had known before her flight to Chicago. She fell back easily into the slower tempo of the little town. It got to be amusing after a while to imagine the various lives the men and women of the place led. She felt as though she could write a "Spoon River Anthology" about the cross-section and undercurrent of the village. Out of her great sexual experience Claudia now possessed a great fund of knowledge concerning the inner workings of people. She understood the tremendous part sex plays in the lives of men and women. She neither overestimated nor underestimated the significance of erotic passion.

She permitted herself to fall into a kind of doldrums. She relegated herself to the role of an onlooker in the midst of "the maddening crowd." Though the town was small, there was considerable social activity. It was not long before Claudia was eagerly sought out by the young men of the village. She conducted herself with such gracious lack of prudery among them that they all voted her "a swell sport."

She found her new life pleasant and a change from her passionate existence back in Chicago. Arthur, who had been the first man to drink from her fount of joy, had moved from the town, and secretly Claudia was glad, because it saved her that much embarrassment and possible exposure. Not that she was incapable of taking care of herself, but it was just as well that he was out of the way. She had nothing to worry about. She had drunk deeply of the well of life and was now prepared for a more normal existence.

She recognized this lull in her life for what it was. Soon the seething tide of life would surge over the bit of tranquil beach she was standing on and sweep her back into the maelstrom.

For days the fires of passion and lust were cold within her. It was as though she were gorged with the endless feast of flesh. It would be a long time before she would be ready to dine on the same food.

She threw herself into intellectual activity and read widely upon many subjects. She resumed her music. She played tennis once more and took up riding. All these things were outlets for her dynamic energy. Her life moved as smoothly as an expert skater over ice, but one afternoon she ran into Tommy Thomas.

She was on an errand for her mother, and as she was walking down the main street she bumped into a tall young man who was preoccupied in reading a letter. He looked up in amazement.

"Claudia! By all that's holy! Where have you been? Why didn't you write? But come with me and tell me all about it."

He dragged her into the little candy shop, which had stood on that particular spot ever since she could remember, and they sat together in the friendly intimacy of the little booth.

"You're looking as wonderful as ever," he told her.

She studied him a while and said, "You look a little thin, Tommy. Too much work over at the school?"

"You know what is the matter with me," he said quietly.

Claudia felt some of the old thrill. "No," she replied. "What is the matter?"

"You."

"Me . . . ? What have I got to do with it? That belongs in the dead past."

"Maybe to you it does, but even though you went away, you've never been out of my mind."

"Asleep or waking?" she said jestingly.

An expression of pain creased his face. He changed the subject. "Can I buy you a soda?"

She studied him intently. Gradually it dawned upon her that he was sincere. "Why, I was only a kid when you first met me," she said wonderingly.

"I've met many girls since, but I never saw one I thought about twice."

"But, doesn't the fact that you had me before make any difference to you? Don't you feel that you already have possessed all that I have to offer?"

"No man will ever have all that you have to offer. You will always remain a promise to every man you know."

"Somehow you sound awfully different, Tom, not that you weren't the nicest man I ever knew."

His face brightened remarkably. "That's all I want to know. When are you going to let me see you again?"

"Friday."

"What's the matter with tomorrow?"

"Friday."

He laughed. "Just a one-word woman."

Old Mr. Johnson hobbled over with the sodas and they sat in his ancient little shop laughing and chattering over nothing. Claudia was recapturing her youth.

He insisted on walking her home and she felt once more like the little schoolgirl she had been when they had first met. They walked down the streets of the little town, nodding here and there to friends and acquaintances, feeling the sweetness of being young and alive and in love. They stopped before the gate to her home and dawdled like a couple of kids. He held her hand and it seemed to Claudia that that gave her greater pleasure than many of her wildest transports. He left her at last and Claudia skipped up the stairs, a bright vision of the life to come shining before her.

Friday night came and so did Tom with a great bouquet of flowers. Claudia was curious to know where he would take her. She certainly would not refuse to go to his little cottage, but she felt that it would be indelicate on his part to expect her to. She need not have worried. They went on a typical town-folks' evening. They drove about in the quiet country and then came back into the little village.

Tom proposed a picture show and Claudia's eyes expressed their thanks. They sat in the peaceful gloom and watched the flickering shadows on the screen, happy to sit close and to occasionally touch hands.

They went for a little walk through the main thoroughfare and stopped for a sandwich in the crowded restaurant. Everyone knew each other. They had all grown up together. Claudia reflected upon the difference between her own home town and the chilly metropolis she had so recently left. You could die in the streets of Chicago, she idly thought, and no one would give you a passing thought.

They sat around and joked and kidded one another until it got rather late. Tom drove her straight home. As she left him she kissed him swiftly upon the lips and flew up the stairs. That was the beginning of their courtship.

The weather turned colder and snow fell. The surrounding country was transformed into a fairyland. The earth was covered with a soft, white blanket of snow.

It was Saturday afternoon and Claudia sat reading. She heard a lot of noise and she went to the window. A great horse-drawn sleigh filled with sweatered young people stood outside. Tom came bounding up the stairs. "Come on," he cried. "We're all going out to Thatcher's pond. Take your skates."

Claudia changed into a warm sports outfit and went happily with Tom to join the others. They piled into the great sleigh and were soon rolling and tumbling with the others.

It was a marvelous, crystal-clear day and the runners of the big sled sang through the hard-packed snow. The horses steamed and exuded a pleasant sweaty smell. Claudia and Tom lay huddled together beneath the blankets like the others. Her cool cheek rested on his. He made no effort toward undue familiarity. Claudia began to wonder. Has he lost all desire for me? she thought. Is he just fed up with trying to amuse himself? It was marvelous the way he was treating her. She felt an uprush of love and affection for him, but, she told herself, she would have to be sure.

At last they pulled up before Thatcher's pond. They piled out of the sled one on top of the other, rolling in the deep snow. There was a little cottage on the bank of the pond and soon they had a lively fire going inside. Some thoughtful soul had remembered to bring a few bottles of liquor along and it was received with grateful thanks after the brisk ride. The others all piled out to skate around on the smooth pond. Claudia and Tom lagged behind in the cottage. Before they understood just what had happened they found themselves alone in the cozy room. They were silent for a long time. Tom was studying his skates, which he held in his hands. He looked up to see the girl eyeing him. He spoke first.

"Claudia, what do you think of me?"

"How do you mean that?" she said, taken aback by his abrupt opening.

"I mean what do you think of me as a person? Do you think I'm desirable? Do you think some girl could learn to love me?"

Claudia smiled. "Surely you must know you are an extremely handsome and desirable young man. A girl could not help but feel responsive toward you. Why do you ask?"

"I'm not thinking of just any girl," he said slowly. "I'm thinking of you. You're all the girl I want. I've never been able to get you out of my mind and now I'm sure I don't want to."

"Doesn't the past mean anything to you?" Claudia asked.

"What can it mean?" he said passionately.

Claudia gave him a deep look. "Do you mean to say that the moments we spent together and the liberties I allowed have made no impression upon your regard for me?"

"They have only served to make me love you more."

"Then you are one man in a million," Claudia told him. "I'm sure that most men expect chastity in their wives. At least that has been the custom for thousands of years."

"Damn customs! I only know what I want you!" And he drew her close to him.

She yielded to his strong embrace, and the softness of her body swept away his control. There was little room for doubt about his feeling for her. Their lips met and they both were seared by the contact. His hands slid down her waist until they rested upon the fullness of her arching hips, and he drew her against his groin. She could feel his penis against her, and she ached with desire. Some little voice within her told her not to let herself go this time. She obeyed its command.

"No! No! Tom, let me go!"

His arms slowly relaxed and dropped from her. He walked over to a window and looked out. Claudia pressed her hands to her head to sweep away the rush of blood. The room whirled about her.

Tom turned toward her, his face white. "Forgive me," he said in a low voice. "I didn't mean to insult you."

"Let's forget it, "she told him. And they went out of the cottage to the pond. He kneeled to put her skates on for her, and his hands trembled as they came in contact with her slim foot.

They drifted over the glassy ice and joined the others in their frolic. A cool, biting wind fanned their flushed faces and whipped away some of the body heat. They skated with all the speed and power their limbs were capable of. Only with physical exhaustion could they dull the edge of desire.

Claudia determined to behave as though nothing had happened. She saw Tom following her with his eyes. What would happen next? What tack should she take with him? Was he really sincere, or did he merely wish to assuage his physical desire? Claudia couldn't be sure. Well, she would play out the game, and whatever did happen was all right with her. She was certain she loved Tom, and almost as certain that he reciprocated; but she wanted to be sure.

The long shadows of the fading winter afternoon touched up the snow-covered landscape until the scene was one of unbelievable beauty. They all retired to the cottage now and piled up the old fireplace with wood. The room was entirely dark, except for the crackling fire which shot hot tongues of flame into the room and threw eerie, flickering shadows across the ceiling.

Weenies were roasted and bottles uncorked. The party attained new gaiety. A radio had been carried along and was tuned in on a sizzling Negro orchestra which filled the warm room with pulsating jungle rhythms. Couples got up to dance. They drifted into corners and stayed there, clinging to each other. Claudia could see the bodies of men and girls melting together as if in coitus. Kissing and fondling became more open. Laughs became shrill and looks more provocative. A couple suddenly got up and disappeared into one of the other rooms. Outside, the snow was gently coming down.

Tom nestled close to Claudia. In the golden light cast by the fire, her face had a new, rich beauty. He reached out and took her hand. She turned slowly and gazed into his eyes. A new understanding seemed to flow between them. She lay in his arms, unafraid, feeling his warm breath upon her cheek. As for Tom, her body was a scorching flame on his. His arms encircled her slim waist below her swelling breasts encased in a thin wool sweater. He could see the tiny rose color of the nipples. He bent over and kissed her gently upon her full lips. She did not resist. He encircled her around the waist and thighs and lifted her on his knees. She buried her face into his chest. The scent of her hair rose to his nostrils, and a pulse began to beat at the base of his brain. Something inside him cried out for possession. He had to have this woman! He was going to have her; his arms tightened until Claudia moved restlessly in his grasp. She looked into his eyes and understood.

"You want me, Tom, don't you?"

"Yes," he managed to say.

"I want you too; but I'm asking you not to take me here. I'm not innocent or afraid. I don't have to tell you that because you, above all, know that I have never held back to make myself seem more desirable, or to play the part of a cheap coquette."

"Yes. That is true. You gave yourself to me because you liked me and because you are a warm, living woman-a real woman and not some cheaply virtuous prude."

"It's good of you to say that to me, Tom . . . "

"It's not good of me, but it's the simple truth."

"Then," Claudia continued, "you won't make it difficult for me here."

"No," Tom replied slowly. "I couldn't refuse you anything you might ask of me."

She kissed him happily. "You won't regret it, Tom."

"I don't know about regretting it, but I could use a good cold shower right now."

"How about me? Do you suppose I'm made of stone?"

His hands pressed her soft flesh as he drew her close. "Only your heart is, Claudia . . . "

When she got home that night, Claudia lay awake a while thinking. Somehow she could not help but believe that if she had yielded to Tom's demand that afternoon she might have lost him. More than ever she was convinced that he was the man for her. She had seen a good deal and was certain that Tom possessed the requisite maturity and intelligence to make married life successful. She knew that he was not taking her lightly. There were to be no girlish subterfuges for her, she decided. Her cards were going to be put on the table. He knew what he was getting. She was not going to swathe herself in a flimsy veil of prudery and pretense of being something she was not. She had lived her life boldly and well. Now she meant to be true to one man; and she was certain she had found him.

Several days went by and Claudia heard no word from Tom. She was tempted to give him a ring, but she realized that the issue was up to him rather than to her. There was only one thing she could do and that was to wait. Fortunately, women are good at this sort of thing-they have to be.

On Friday night Tom called and asked if he could see her. He drove up shortly afterwards. They sat in the parlor for a little while, and then Claudia asked whether he would like to go out. Tom seemed relieved when they left the house. Apparently he was not so sure of her.

"Where will we go?" she asked.

"How about your place," Claudia asked without hesitation.

"Will you . . . really?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," she said with a little smile. Tonight would answer a few questions for her.

He drove to his small cottage at breakneck speed. When they drew up to the door, Claudia gave a little cry of surprise.

"Why, Tom! You've had the place painted!"

He was pleased. "And that's not all. Wait until you see the inside."

They made a complete tour of the pretty home. It was a sight to gladden the heart of any woman. Beautifully furnished and in perfect order.

"You're a marvelous housekeeper, Tom. Taking courses in domestic science?"

"Don't kid me, young woman. I've got old Mrs. Fagin coming over a few afternoons a week to straighten things out. Here, give me your stuff."

He took her coat and hung it in the closet. When he came back into the room, he saw Claudia leaning over the window sill looking out into the glistening mystery of the winter night. He forgot all his good resolutions when he saw her curving hips straining as if to burst from the shining black silk of her clinging dress. He stood quietly and drank in the picture she made. His eyes traveled over the fluid lines of her body, starting from her slender ankles and swelling calves, with the white skin gleaming beneath the flimsy silken hose, to her flaring hips, which dipped in at the waist to bell out gently again at her breasts.

She turned suddenly and caught him staring at her. He reddened. She smiled. "Aren't you going to kiss me, Tom?"

He crossed the room swiftly and took her in his arms. He felt her tender flesh molded against his body. His hands slid over the smoothness of her and then he pushed her away roughly. She followed him with troubled eyes as he dropped abruptly into a chair, burying his face in his hands.

She crossed over to him. "What's the matter, Tom?"

"You know what's the matter."

"Yes," she said slowly. "I suppose I do. Come here and sit beside me."

She took him by the arm and forced him to sit with her on the couch. "You used to be a man . . . " she said with a challenge in her voice.

He looked up at her with burning eyes. "Don't play with me!"

Claudia looked down. "I don't feel in the mood for play."

He was on her in a moment. He pressed his lips to hers and it seemed an eternity before he drew away. She lay full-length upon the couch. All thought of resistance was out of her. If this was the way he wanted it, that was the way it was going to be. His hot eyes seemed to devour her and his hands were in a thousand places at once. She felt her dress being slowly lifted and a warm hand slid between her white thighs. His mouth sought hers and clung in moist rapture. Her breasts rose and threatened to burst their silken confinement. They overflowed her brassiere like half-moons, and the sight of the swelling flesh drove Tom mad. He ripped the flimsy bit of silk from her body and buried his face into the milky, fragrant flesh. Out of half-closed eyes Claudia watched his lips and hands take their fill. She was a bottomless well giving nourishment to an arid waste. She knew a deep sympathy and understanding for Tom. She knew what he was going through.

With trembling hands he took his elongated organ from out of his trousers and nervously sought the entrance. Claudia reached down and guided the large head into her cavity. He rested his weight upon her and began to thrash about in the grip of the irresistible erotic emotion. Claudia aided him the best she could. She arched her back and bore upward against his thrusts. She dug her heels into the back of his knees, and soon he began to spurt the pent-up semen into her. A last long flow and he had done. The tension left his body and he went soft. His nerves had become relaxed. He felt a delightful peace he had not known for months. He told that to Claudia as they both lay there.

She smoothed back his hair. "You feel better now, don't you dear?"

He saw the affection she 'had for him, and a feeling of shame rose in his conscience. "I feel as though I had taken you against your will," he said as he withdrew his object and got to his feet.

"Did I act as though you were taking me against my will?" she asked sweetly.

"No," but his tone was full of doubt.

"Let's go into the bedroom, Tom, and relive old times."

He picked her up and bore her into his room. They disrobed slowly, each watching the other and when Claudia bent over to remove her shoes, he kissed her on her snowy bottom. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his lower lip and rubbed her stomach against his, sending sensations through him as her growth of pubic hair brushed against him. He gathered her into his arms and they tumbled into bed.

For a long while they lay quietly, savoring their nearness, glad merely to feel the pressure of flesh. His hands stroked her, and she was passive under his caresses, finding unspeakable delight in the touch of his hard hands. He cupped her spongy breasts and took the pink nipples in his mouth, letting his lips run over their blue-veined softness. He felt her charms harden between his lips. Her nipples projected like little needles; her breath began to come in sharp spurts. He reached a hand down along her snowy limbs and sought her gash of sex. His fingers felt the hot-lipped crease and she nestled closer, spreading her rounded limbs. His hand was buried in her nest of curling black hair. His heart was flooded with warmth and affection for this adorable creature. He was not lying to himself now. This woman was meant for him. It was not only that she made so wonderful a sex-partner, but her entire attitude was so fine. She was such a generous person; she had the "large heart." She asked nothing for herself but love and affection. She understood that life meant giving.

He looked deeply into her dark eyes swimming with emotion. He bent his head and covered her rosebud mouth with his and gently injected his proof of masculinity. Inch by inch he entered her soft vagina. It was like sinking into a pool of quicksand. He felt her vulva taking hold of his penis with velvet fingers and drawing him deeper all the time. A delicious warmth flowed into his bones.

"Claudia, darling," he whispered tenderly. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could go on like this always . . . just we two?"

She smiled up at him, her soul in her eyes. "My heart is in your keeping," she said softly.

He let his body down upon her and she found the burden sweet.

Claudia and Tom let nature run its course. They experienced coition in its highest and most intelligent form. It should be a physical meeting of two persons of opposite sex who are genuinely fond of one another. It is not a thing to be hurried and desecrated, rather it is a noble expression of one of man's finest instincts and should be properly brought to fruition.

This night Tom loved Claudia with more than his body. It was something difficult to put into words. He felt, somehow, that he was dedicating himself to a wonderful purpose. He knew that he and this splendid girl-woman would go on from there, would face life together in all its aspects. He was consummating marriage without benefit of clergy-it is true-but he knew that they were sealed this night forever.

He wiggled his buttocks, feeling that he wanted to get as close as he could to this woman-his woman. She responded by rotating her powerful loins in perfect synchronization with him. It was like breasting the waves on a surfboard. They made soft noises of rapture as they blended together. The warmth of their friction released a heady perfume from Claudia's pores, and the very odor itself nearly sent Tom off into a premature orgasm.

The girl surged upward, and her breasts flattened against his chest and made sweet pillows of love. Her snowy limbs encircled his strong body in a true lover's knot.

The heat of the moment caused them both to break out into a slight perspiration which acted as an unneeded aphrodisiac. In perfect unison both began to loose the seminal juices. They were in the sweet convulsions of lubricity, their bodies rouged with carnal heat. They glistened as though covered with oil. His nozzle began to shoot the lover's balsam into her burning crevice, and she released her reservoir of lust's lotion in reply. The flame of love burned brightly as they spent themselves. And, as every peak implies a let-down, they were soon only able to cling one to the other with limp clasp. They were unmindful of the creamy overflow upon their thighs.

They rested thus in perfect harmony. At last Claudia stirred.

"Feel better, Tom?" she asked.

He kissed her. "I feel wonderful, thanks to the sweetest girl in the world."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Dear, you know I do."

"You're sure you're not saying that because you happen to feel good after that long dry spell you must have gone through?"

He laughed. "There was no need of a drought, Claudia, darling. It was just that I couldn't think of having another girl so long as I knew you were around somewhere."

"He can tell great big lies with the greatest of ease . . . " Claudia sang softly.

"Why the devil can't you ever take me seriously?" Tom demanded in anger.

She released herself from his grasp and stretched herself like a supple tigress. "It's too late to argue, Tommy. How about a bath?"

He muttered under his breath, but helped her into the tub, watching her as she lay at ease while he drew the warm water. He felt a pleasant sense of intimacy. There was something to this marriage business after all. It might grow dull with some women, but not with someone like Claudia. She must know how he felt about her, yet she was willing to give herself to him without any promise of marriage. He felt moved by her courage. She had acted in direct contradiction to the time-honored devices of most girls, who flaunt the lure of their bodies as an incentive toward marriage. They did not have the courage and the imagination to offer "samples," so to speak, of what they had in store for their future husbands. Perhaps if such a thing were more common, it might be productive of less sexual maladjustment and more marriages founded upon a sound basis with an infinitely better possibility of success.

"Soap my back, Tommy, dear," she asked in her appealing and unaffected way.

"G'wan do it yourself, you lazy baggage."

She pouted at him and he soaped her back with gentle hands. He watched her indulgently as she frolicked in the tub. At last she was finished. She rose in slim white splendor, her damp hair curling darkly about her brow. He put a towel about her and then went out in the other room to bring her a cigarette. He put it between her lips and lit it for her. She tweaked his nose. "You're a dear," she told him.

He hurried through his bath. If only he could prolong this night forever, he thought. He could not bear to think of letting this girl out of his arms. He found an extra pair of pajamas for her, and they went into his little living room and huddled together smoking a cigarette. He found a little whiskey in a bottle, and they divided it carefully between them.

Through the window they could see the first rays of light streaking the sky. It was growing chilly and Tom brought out a heavy blanket and wrapped it around her.

"I don't know what you're thinking about, Tom, but I've got a home and I think I had better go there."

"You're not going home for a long while," he told her.

"It won't do you much good to hold me for ransom. Business has been pretty bad lately."

"Claudia," he dropped on his knees before her. "Let's be serious for a moment."

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

She was silent. Many emotions gripped her. This moment was the culmination of her life. It would mark an end and a beginning. She lifted his face in both hands and looked long and intently into his eyes. He returned her look unwaveringly. She kissed him lightly on the lips and his arms went about her. They clung together and watched the day break-a dawn of a new day for them both.