Chapter 7
IT WAS ALMOST LIKE BEING IN A DREAM. There was no hurry and no sense of urgency. Ted's fingertips lingered over each change of contour in the slender form before him, exploring, caressing, promising and he let her lips move softly along his own. There was a periodic trembling in the flesh that he touched. Elsie shook, then calmed, then shook again. He visualized her lean lines and savored the knowledge that when he was ready he could lift the edge of her shift and draw it over her head to reveal those lines. He tingled with the thought that he wanted to prolong this time of waiting. And his hands continued to stroke and probe.
"Darling," she whispered, the word muffled against his lips. "Darling! Your hands feel like they're on fire!"
"Because they make you hot?" he asked.
"No! Maybe I'm just cold, but I can feel the heat right through my dress!"
"Hmm." There wasn't anything to be said. Funny how a woman felt things.
He laid his palm against her hip. By God, her skin was cold. It was like ice! But her circulation was going to pick up and before long she'd feel like she had a fever. He began to caress her with long, even strokes, pressing his hands hard against her. The shift continued to cling to his hands, rather than to her and at the top of each stroke he knew that she was exposed all the way up to her hips.
He hungered suddenly for the feel of her bare skin. He moved against her at a moment when her shift was pulled high, trapping it there and put his hand down on the outside of her thigh. When he stroked upward, it was skin sliding over skin with the cloth riding ahead. As he'd known would happen, the contact drove a keen edge of eagerness into him and he had to have that damned shift out of the way.
He caught at it with both hands and Elsie raised her arms while he pulled it up over her. He stood back to watch it rise, his belly knotting as it bared her hips-and the mousy patch of hair between them-and her belly and the lower edge of her rib cage. He paused, then drew it up past the swell of her breasts and off over her arms.
Elsie stood motionless for a moment, her arms still stretched toward the ceiling. Ted held his breath. Somewhere, he'd seen a painting like this-a slim, youthful figure on tiptoes, its lines arched up and back, face uplifted, arms raised for blessing. He was aware of a kind of sadness for his lack of words or artistic skill to capture the poetry of Elsie's surfaces. He would never be able to de scribe the shadowed hollows that extended up and down her body-or the ribbons of highlighted flesh that separated them. But maybe preserving the picture for others would be a waste of time, anyhow. What counted was the blend of light and shadow and line and surface with the tenderness he felt toward Elsie. And no one else could know precisely that combination.
He reached out to run his hands lightly down her curves and she trembled and lowered her arms, putting them around his neck.
"Darling," she whispered. "I want you so tonight!"
His caresses became sure and purposeful. The interlude of detached enjoyment of her lines and surfaces was gone. In its place was hunger and a need to fire her with passion. She jerked and twitched and he narrowed the area that he massaged until her hips broke into a hard pumping motion and her legs stretched wide.
He opened the fly of his trousers and let his penis spring into the open, crouching to place its head at the heart of her heat and moisture. He straightened his legs gradually, feeling the bulb of his penis penetrate her and then the shaft. And he continued to straighten them until he stood erect and she dangled on the rampant staff, her legs flanking his. He grasped her buttocks with his hands to ease some of the strain from his penis and she lifted her knees, clamping them in against his sides.
She grunted softly as he bounced her up and down, stroking her on his shaft. It came to him, sharply, that this was the first time he'd ever made love to her when he controlled the pace and not she. The thought made him adjust the pace to minimize his stimulation while increasing hers to its maximum. As if she sensed his intent, she squirmed in an effort to modify her position and present less of herself to the steady stroking. But she was helpless in Ted's hands and the motion went steadily on.
"Oh! Oh!" Elsie gasped. Her thighs tightened in convulsive but rhythmic squeezes and she snapped the small of her back inward repeatedly in time to the strokes that Ted made.
She clawed at his back and suddenly her even breathing gave way to panting.
"Good God, darling! Faster! Now, NOW!"
Ted felt a tremor go through her. He slowed the stroking and eased her pressure on the ridge of his penis. Her breathing eased and she leaned inward against him.
"Oh, Ted, I wanted to go on! Why did you stop?"
"It ought to be like drinking good wine," he re plied. "You don't gulp it all at once. You drink some and let the taste get all through you and then drink some more. That way, you get more of the flavor."
"But darling! I'll lose control of myself!"
"Maybe."
He began to pump her again. She panted and squirmed and got excited once more and her fingernails dug in. Ted watched her neck. Over and over, he saw the cords jerk taut, then relax and he knew that she was still clinging to her self control. She gritted her teeth, then and leaned away to glare at him.
"Now, darling! Oh, I've got to ... NOW!"
He held her still, raised enough to relieve her of the pressure from his penis and let her subside.
"Ted! Goddamnit, Ted! What are you doing to me? I wanted to come! I had to come! But you wouldn't let me!"
"Of course not, sweet! If I had, it'd all be over now. Would you rather?"
"Oh, yes! I mean, no! Oh, Ted, I don't know what I mean! I'm glad I'm on you right now, but I'm afraid of what I might do-or say-!"
"Easy, doll. Let's just pretend we've found a new dish and don't want it to disappear too soon."
"Or a new sensation," she said. "But I'm still frightened."
"Not of me, doll."
"Of course not! Of myself!" She shuddered. "I'll make you hate me!"
"Not while we're doing this, you won't!"
He began to stroke her up and down again. She rose quickly to her former state of excitement and suddenly she threw her head back and burst into a low, undulating cry. Ted gauged his rhythm cautiously, determined not to let her slip into an easy, self-controlled orgasm this time. She was going to let herself go for once, by God, or he'd know the reason why!
He was pleased with her reactions. They verged on the automatic. But there was still a core of reserve that he couldn't accept. She stiffened sharply and he stopped her motion. The next time, he suspected, she'd forget herself and let go.
"Oh, darling!" she moaned. "I don't know what's happening! Be good to me, Ted! Be good to me!"
"I'll be good to you, doll," he promised.
He pumped again. At the first motion, Elsie gasped and stiffened. Within a half dozen strokes, she began to beat her heels against his buttocks. She started to throw herself backward and forward, clinging to his shoulders as she did.
She threw her head with each backward shove. Suddenly, her hair broke out of its sleek pile and flew loose over her face and shoulders.
"My God!" she cried out in alarm. "My God, Ted! Look what's happened!"
"There, there, pet," he crooned. "It's all right."
Elsie thrashed. Her fingers clawed for a better grip, found it, then abandoned it to find another. Her eyes stared and her mouth gaped. Her legs flailed the air, then tightened on him while she kicked his buttocks. She mouthed incoherent phrases and her lips glistened with saliva.
She's there, Ted thought. She's there! Primitive! Raw sex! Doesn't give a damn how she looks or sounds! Just wants more and more! He stopped her and held her inches away from his body. She trembled violently.
"Ted! Darling! Oh, God, this is good!" She buried her face in the hollow of his neck, then raised it and kissed him in a frenzy of searching.
"I'm ready, precious!" she said. "I'm ready! But I love you for not letting me come yet! Oh, God! It's so good this way!"
She was still wild, he realized. She wasn't going to regain her composed poise. She was simply woman and she'd abandoned herself to him. Even if he lay with her for an hour, until she'd lost her passion and had to start from the beginning, she'd throw herself into the experience without her net of reserve.
He began to pump her with long, powerful strokes, striking her pelvic arch against his with a crash at the bottom of each stroke.
"Oh my God! Oh, Jesus! Hard, Ted! HARD!"
He quickened the tempo gradually, until his body ached from the exertion and a knot of heat exploded deep in his guts to trigger the first con traction of his own orgasm. But Elsie stiffened at the same time, grinding herself against him and gasping from the intensity of the tremors that shook her.
At last, she quieted and Ted, feeling his hardness melting, staggered to the edge of the desk, where he leaned weakly.
"God, we're sweaty!" exclaimed Elsie. She laughed shakily.
"We sure are!" Ted squeezed her. "I don't know about you, but I feel like my bones have melted!"
"Me too! Even that one you've got in me is soft now!"
"That's the penalty it pays for grabbing the best spot."
"Oh, Ted! What a thing to say!" She giggled.
"I'm likely to say almost anything after something like that."
"You've a right!" She paused with an expression of surprise on her face. "Ted! That's the way you and Rita make love!"
"Not very often, doll. She weighs a bit more than you. We usually look for more support than just my legs."
"Not that! I don't mean in the position we used! I mean making it last!"
"And last and last," Ted agreed. "That's right, doll. We're not in a hurry to let it end."
"God! And she can take it!" Elsie pressed tightly against him.
"She sure can! It's a three dimensional experience, doll!"
"And in color with sound effects?" she giggled again. "I don't see how either of you can stand to waste your time with the rest of us."
"What a thing to say! Everyone's different, Elsie!" But he'd fumed over the same thing and he still wished he could figure out how to break off the extra relationships without making Rita think he was jealous. Or letting her know that he was, maybe.
She stirred, then pulled herself off him.
"We have to get back out with the others. But thanks for the lesson, coach."
Ted chuckled. "Thanks, yourself! I feel like a different man!"
"It wasn't the same Elsie that came out as the one that went in," murmured Rita.
Ted squinted to make her out in the faint light that filtered in through the window. She lay face up, the blanket tucked under her chin, her eyes staring into the darkness. He felt for her hand and cuddled it in his.
"No," he said. "Not the same."
"Ted, I've never seen her with her hair down, before!"
"Neither have I."
"That must have been quite an education she got."
"Honey!" He squeezed her hand and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"Did you see the way Bill looked when you two came back?"
"I ... Well, I'm not sure that I did."
"He looked awestruck-as if he couldn't quite believe what he saw. And then he looked like someone had a knife in him and was twisting it."
"Oh, no! Honey, he wasn't upset while we were in the den, was he?"
"Well ... no-o-o ... I guess not. He was quiet, but he didn't really look upset."
"I'd hate it if ..."
"Ted?"
"Sure, honey."
"Let's not talk about it right now. I just don't know how he felt."
"You know? I've been thinking about this sharing business. I wonder if ..."
"Please! I don't want to talk about it right now!"
Ted stiffened beside her. "You're sore because Elsie and I went off by ourselves," he accused.
"I am not!"
"And that you didn't do anything!"
"I am not!"
"Then why don't you want ... ?"
"Oh, Ted! For God's sake, drop it!"
He turned his back on her. Why the hell couldn't he at least suggest that they ought to pull out of the arrangement? Sure, he'd gotten two pieces more out of the thing than she-so far as he knew. Okay! Let her get laid a couple more times! But then knock it off! But no; she didn't want to talk about it. She must know what he wanted to suggest. She wasn't stupid.
He felt miserable. He wasn't going to be able to sleep a wink. Rita probably wouldn't either. She was holding herself so rigid right now that he could feel the covers quiver.
They just didn't fight! Al and Cora would figure the few words they'd just had were routine; they bickered a lot. But he and Rita weren't like that. This sharpness could be serious! He tried to get comfortable. No use. He wondered if he ought to apologize. Hell, he couldn't! He didn't know what to apologize for! But it might help if he just said he was sorry. She wouldn't ask what for. He'd try it.
"Baby?"
Silence.
"Baby?"
Silence.
"Rita?"
A change in the slow tempo of her breathing. Then, "Hmm?"
"I'm sorry, baby."
"It's all right." Flat.
"It's never quite all right after, baby."
"It's all right, Ted."
Rita rolled toward him and he took her in his arms. She cried and he held her and comforted her. At intervals, he told her he was sorry. And at last she slept. Ted doubted that he would. There was something that wasn't going to let him. But he couldn't remember what it was and things began to float as they always did the last few seconds before sleep came.
At breakfast, Rita offered to reach as many of the mothers on his part of the team roster as she could during the day. "That'll give you a little head start," she said.
"Great! That'll really help!"
"What shall I ask them?"
"Ask what grade the boy got in each subject on his last report card. Check to see if the date of birth we've got on the roster is right. And ask if they still live at the address we show."
"Grades, date of birth and address. Okay."
When he was ready to leave for work, Ted paused at the door. He took Rita in his arms and held her close.
"I love you, baby," he told her. He kissed her.
"I hope you always do," she whispered. She clung to him for a long moment, then pulled free.
"You'll be late, hon."
He grinned and went out. It'd be fine if the beautiful morning was going to be an omen.
By nine that evening, the results were in. There were no ineligible players on the Raiders' roster. Ted smiled and got a beer out of the refrigerator. Whatever problems the association had with Ron and the Broncos, the Raiders were clean. He had a feeling that was going to be important. All of a sudden, Mr. Gale's awe at the improvement in the team meant something. They were going to win those next two games and go on to the play-off.
He paused to reflect on what that would mean. They'd probably have to play Ron's Broncos. That'd be all right. No matter what Ron had pulled against any of the other teams, he'd play it straight in the play-off. After all, he'd be playing a team from his own association in front of everyone from the Oakdale area. He couldn't afford to do it any other way.
Just the same, it might be good insurance to give the boys a few pointers on how to handle the tactics that referees usually didn't see. But he'd wait until after the game with the Rebels. They were going to put up real resistance, regardless of Gale's optimism.