Jeannie walked slowly from the Liberal Arts building, and stood on the steps as she smiled and spoke to other students. She thought again about that terribly dull literature class next, and just the thought of listening for an hour to old Dr. West made her shudder.
She nibbled her lower lip, and saw Chuck Rogers walk from the building. He looked at her, and smiled as he turned and walked over to her.
"Going to American Lit?" he asked.
She stared into his rugged, handsome face for a long moment, and was pleased to see the way he was obviously staring at her body.
"I really don't think so," she said. "I haven't cut it in over a week now."
Chuck shook his head. "You like to live dangerously," he said. "And with exams just a few weeks off."
"How about you?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Oh, I like living dangerously," he said. "But I like to choose the danger. And the chairman of my major department, well, baby, I've got to graduate. But we ought to get together and discuss other kinds of danger soon."
Jeannie smiled very slightly. She knew the smile drove boys wild. And she shifted her weight slightly to one leg, so that her buttocks were thrust against her tight green skirt. But she did not answer his obvious invitation.
"Look, I've got to run," he said. "But, really, I'd like to see you. How about tonight? Dinner and drinks."
"I've got to study tonight," Jeannie said. "But call me soon, Chuck. It would be nice to see you sometime, outside of Dr. West's class."
"Don't worry, Jeannie," he said. "I'll call soon. Do you want me to feed some excuse to old man West for you? Oh, hell, I forgot you have a brother-in-law on the faculty to bail you out."
"Bail me out?" Jeannie asked. "He bends over backwards to keep from helping me. Just don't say anything to West. Maybe he'll forget to take roll today."
"Not a chance," Chuck said. "Well, look, I've got to go. I'll talk to you soon."
"Fine," she said, and smiled.
She watched him walk away. Then she turned and moved down the steps, and across the spacious lawn toward the Student Union building. Maybe she would date Chuck, she told herself, as she pulled a bud from an oleander bush, and smelled the tiny flower.
But she would let him wait a while, she decided. After all, she had just started dating Mike, and that was still pretty interesting. As she crossed a street, she remembered Chuck's remark about having a brother-in-law on the faculty.
She stopped at the curb. Maybe she would visit Mark and Edith, instead of having coffee in the Student Union. Yes, she told herself, and walked past the Union building.
She turned left down Sorority Row, past the stately homes behind thick carpets of grass. She walked slowly, nodding and smiling at people she passed. At the Chi Omega house where she lived, she waved at Laura, who was sitting on the wide porch.
Jeannie smiled to herself as she thought of Laura's wild crush on Mark. She loved Laura dearly, but she simply could not understand how she could let herself get so carried away about men. Even a man as handsome as Dr. Mark Reed, professor of history.
Jeannie stopped to look a moment at the glittering, silvery web a huge black spider was building in a shrubbery bush. She stared at the spider, and shuddered, then turned quickly and walked away.
The web was beautiful, she told herself as she turned off Sorority Row, and down a broad street lined with thick-leafed sycamore trees. But the spider just made her flesh crawl.
She moved faster now, as the wind picked up force, and swirled pieces of paper and bits of trash up from the sidewalk. She glanced through the broad leaves at the sky. There were lots of grey clouds now, and she realized it was probably going to rain.
She had just dashed onto Mark and Edith's porch when it started sprinkling. She wiped a few drops of water from her hair, then started to ring the bell.
But she suddenly heard Edith speaking in a very loud voice, and she paused. Then Mark was saying something back. She could not understand his words, but the bitterness in his tone was clear.
Jeannie looked over her shoulder at the steady rain, and nibbled her lower lip. She told herself it was a choice of getting soaked, or of interrupting their argument.
She moved her finger to the bell again, and hesitated an instant. She pushed the bell just as Edith said something. There was an abrupt silence in the argument. Then Jeannie heard someone coming down the hall.
The door opened, and Jeannie stared up into Mark's angular, handsome face, now nearly crimson.
"Come in, Jeannie," he said, and stepped back.
"Hi, Mark," she said, and walked past him, and down the hall.
"We were wondering if you'd forgotten where we live," Mark said from behind her, and she could tell that tension still lined his voice.
"I've been meaning to get over, but I've been so busy," Jeannie said. "Where's Edith?"
"She's back in the den," Mark said. "We were just ... talking and having a drink."
Talking, Jeannie said to herself, and she smiled slightly. She walked down the hall, and into the den, and spoke to Edith who was sitting by the window, staring out at the heavy rain.
Edith glanced around, and said, "Hello, Jeannie," in a very weary voice. Jeannie saw that she was sitting rigidly, with her hands held together in her lap.
Mark came in behind her, and picked up a drink from his desk, and took a deep swallow. Edith glanced at him, her lovely face lined and her lips drawn thin. Then she looked back at the rain.
Jeannie nibbled her lip, and saw Mark drain the glass, and pick up the bottle of Scotch and mix another drink.
"Another minute, and I would have been drenched," she said, and felt the tension would smother her.
"Why aren't you in class?" Edith asked, as she turned from the window.
"Oh, Edith, don't start that big-sister stuff, please," Jeannie said. "You know I have unlimited cuts."
"But not in a class you're barely passing," Mark said.
Jeannie looked up at him, and smiled. "You know what a bore old Dr. West is," she said.
Mark took a deep sip of his drink. "That's no way to talk about the chairman of your major department, young lady," he said. "You need a 'C in his lit course to make your grades this semester, and you made a 'D' on the last test."
"Oh, Mark, please," Jeannie said. "I'm honestly trying to pass. I think I will. Lord, I've come this far."
Edith stood up, and looked from Jeannie to Mark. Then she went over and poured Scotch into a glass and gulped it down. "You were talking about that project of yours on the emancipation of women, Mark," Edith said. "Here you have the end project. Jeannie is young and attractive and she has so many boys and so much partying and all, that she can't even find time to get to class."
"Now, Edith, leave me alone," Jeannie said. "I don't date and all any more than anyone else. Lord, I feel I walked into a hornet's nest, and I just innocently dropped by to say hello."
"We're glad you came," Mark said. "But we do worry about you."
Jeannie started to speak, then checked herself. She just hated it when Mark and Edith treated her in this little-girl way. Particularly at times like now, when she knew how much trouble they were having.
"How about a drink?" Mark asked.
"Don't be ridiculous, Mark," Edith said, quickly. "Jeannie has no business drinking this time of day."
Again, Jeannie decided not to say anything. She stepped to the window and stared out at the sheets of rain that washed across the lawn. She told her self she was simply not going to be treated as an absolute child, just because she was 19 and Edith was 34.
Jeannie turned and caught Mark staring at the way her body was displayed in front of the window, and she smiled to herself. Mark obviously did not think of her as a child, at least not physically.
"I'm sorry to keep snapping at you, Jeannie," Edit' said. "But you really shouldn't be drinking now. And you have other classes to attend. How about a Coke, or some ginger ale?"
"Oh, I don't think so," Jeannie said, and she wondered if Edith had seen the way Mark looked at her. Mark had never made even the slightest advance toward her, but Jeannie knew Edith was suspicious about his relations with all the girls he came into contact with daily.
There was a short silence, and Jeannie looked back at the rain, which was slacking up. Then Mark and Edith started discussing having the washing machine fixed.
Jeannie listened to the discussion, and stared at her sister. And she told herself that physically, at least, she should be the older sister. She and Edith had essentially the same features, from the crisp, honey-blond hair and big, brown eyes, to the slightly-puffed lips. But whereas Edith was short, with a body proportionally small in every way, her willowy body was lush in every detail, from the slightly-too-large breasts, to the buttocks that poked out just a bit much, and just enough to look fabulous beneath the tight green skirt she wore.
Jeannie watched Mark and Edith drink and talk, and knew that the discussion about the washing machine was only a surface argument, in her presence, for the bitter argument she had interrupted. She realized that in the past they had shielded their trouble carefully from her, but that lately, their trouble was becoming more and more overt.
In a rare burst of sisterly talk a few weeks ago, Edith had confided that she was afraid that she was not pleasing Mark in bed, and that he was getting interested in some coed.
Jeannie smiled faintly on the corners of her lips, and told herself it was stupid for a woman to worry about sex. She certainly never had, and never would.
She remembered that Edith had hinted that she had tried all kinds of things to keep Mark interested.
But that was so degrading, Jeannie told herself. She just could not imagine getting all carried away about sex. Boys always did, when they parked and petted with her, but she controlled herself easily, and let them know how utterly degrading she thought their panting and pawing was.
"Hell, spend what you want to get the damned thing fixed," Mark said, and his rising voice cut into Jeannie's thoughts.
Then Mark looked quickly at Jeannie, and stepped to her. "I'm sorry, but you obviously caught us on an off day," he said, and his voice was low and a bit hesitant. He glanced at his watch. "And now, I've got to run."
"Time for class?" Jeannie asked. "Guess I better go, too. Can't cut two classes in a row."
Edith came over and put her hand on Jeannie's arm. "Yes, I'm afraid you did walk into a hornet's nest," she said. "But look, come back one evening this week for dinner. And I promise, no dramatics."
"Fine," Jeannie said. "I'll call you later, and we can decide which night is best."
They went outside to the car, through only a faint mist of rain. Mark backed down the driveway and talked about the weather, and then as he turned into the street, and drove down the rain-slick blacktop, he brought up the current campus argument over having Saturday classes.
And she caught him several times glancing down at the way her tight green skirt rested on her thighs. She did not smooth the skirt down, but babbled about the silly class argument, and wondered what it would be like to park with Mark. And whether he would get all hot and whining and pawing. She could see Edith being disgustingly weak as far as sex was concerned, but somehow she could not see Mark.
Then she told herself she was being silly to even think of her very own brother-in-law in this way.
Mark dropped her off at the General Studies Building, where she had a political science class and as she climbed out, he warned her again about cutting classes.
She shook her head as she watched him drive off. Someday, he was going to push her too far, in this way he had of treating her as a child.
CHAPTER TWO
The car slid in the gravel as Mike turned off the blacktop road onto the narrow trail. Then the wheels settled in the two deep ruts. Jeannie relaxed and opened the side vent.
From the corner of her eye, Jeannie saw Mike loosen his tie, and she turned to him. "I can't wait to get something cold to drink," she said.
"Neither can I," he said, quickly.
Jeannie looked back out the window and smiled to herself. She knew that Mike did not want to come out here, because he was anxious to park with her.
She glanced back at him as they turned a deep curve. He really is attractive, she told herself. His big, blue eyes seemed so out of place in his tanned, rugged face. And he was so confident and self-assured. Except when he parked with her, or even danced with her.
Jeannie took a deep breath of the humid air, and leaned forward into the wind and felt the sweat matting her blouse to her back. She twisted around in the seat, and saw Mike glance at the way her tight skirt rested high on her copper-toned thighs.
She sighed and licked her lips, and told herself she just could not understand how someone like Mike could be so childish about getting carried away. He would be all excited before they even parked, and then he would kiss and paw and whine and all, and it simply made her ill.
They turned another deep curve, and Jeannie saw the blinking purple-neon sign through the dipping limbs of the hulking water oaks.
The parking lot was filled with an odd mixture of old pick-up trucks and shiny, new sports cars and convertibles. Mike parked beside a battered pick-up truck, and took his tie off before getting out.
Jeannie watched him come around to her side, and swallowed to relieve a dry throat and thought how wonderful it would be to get something cold to drink.
As Mike opened her door, she slid across the seat, and her skirt was pulled high on her thighs. She saw that Mike was staring down at her legs, and she smiled to herself as she climbed out.
"It looks crowded as hell," Mike said, as he took her hand and led her across the crowded parking lot. "Let's just have a quick drink and leave."
"We'll see," she said, as she kicked at a large piece of gravel. "But don't forget, I did promise Laura we'd see her here, and I just can't stick my head in the door and then run."
There was a hum of garbled noise from the hulking building beneath the blinking, purple neon, and the juke box suddenly blared on, a whine of saxophones and guitars. As they started up the rickety wooden steps, a sharp cackle of laughter cut above the noise.
Mike shoved open the screen door and they stepped into the crowded room, and the noise slammed at them like a physical blow. As always, the local people sat in booths on one side, and the college students on the other.
Mike took Jeannie's hand again, and they picked their way through the packed dance floor. Jeannie told herself it was amazing there was never any trouble between the two groups. But Bert, who ran the place, was strict about that, and therefore it was fun to come here, instead of the dull, proper places near the campus.
"I see Laura and Paul over by the bar, at the back," Jeannie said.
Paul stood up as they came to the table. He shook hands with Mike, and pulled out a chair for Jeannie, and they all sat down.
"We thought you'd never get here," Laura said. "This place is impossible tonight. I'm simply suffocating."
"It is hot," Jeannie said, as she realized how warm she felt, all covered with sticky sweat. She stared a moment at Laura, and wondered how things had gone with Paul tonight. Laura was trying to break up with him, but she hated to hurt him, so she was putting herself through a lot of misery.
"What do you want to drink?" Mike asked.
"What are you having?" Jeannie asked.
"I think a beer," he said. "That's about the most cooling thing I can think of."
"A beer sounds good," Jeannie said.
"I think I better go to the bar," Mike said. "We may never get waited on."
"We're ready for another round, too," Paul said, and he stood up and followed Mike over to the bar.
Jeannie leaned over to Laura. "How are things going?" she asked.
Laura shrugged. "About the same," she said. "Paul just can't seem to understand that though I'm still fond of him, I don't feel the way I used to. It was pretty awful when we parked."
Laura picked up her glass and drained the last of her beer. Jeannie just knew that Laura had gone all the way with Paul, and she wondered if he had tried something like that tonight. Laura was quite pretty, Jeannie told herself, as she looked at the pale-white face and big, black eyes framed by a halo of shoulder-length black hair. Why she would get so carried away as to go all the way, with any boy on earth, Jeannie could not understand.
"You could just stop seeing him," Jeannie said, after a minute. "That might be the most merciful thing to do, in the long run. Because as long as you keep dating him, he's going to be encouraged, no matter what you do and say."
"Maybe you're right," Laura said. "I just don't know. When you've been as close to someone as I've been to Paul, it simply isn't that easy. You'll see someday, Jeannie, when you get really involved with a boy, the way I've been with Paul."
A streak of anger flushed Jeannie's cheeks, and she nibbled at her lip. She told herself Laura had no right to make a remark like that, even if they were good friends. Why, it was terrible of Laura to imply that she was a child or something, simply because she had never gotten all carried away with some boy.
Jeannie started to say something, but she saw Mike and Paul coming back, so she moved away from Laura, and took a deep breath of the warm, smoke-heavy air, and licked her lips.
"Glad to see you haven't died of thirst yet," Mike said. He sat down and poured her beer.
The beer was so cold it made Jeannie's teeth ache wonderfully, and she took several deep swallows. As she set her glass down, Mike asked her to dance.
"Oh, it's too hot and crowded and all," she said. She did feel better after the beer, but she did kind of regret coming out here now, and knew she would absolutely suffocate on the dance floor.
"Can't understand why it's this hot and muggy this early," Mike said. "Of course, being in these damn swamps doesn't help."
She heard Paul and Laura arguing about something, and she wondered if they were fixing to have a scene. She drank her beer, and finished it in a deep swallow.
"Mike, I think I'd like to go," she said.
"Sure, Jeannie," he said, and there was no mistaking the eagerness in his voice.
They said good-bye to Laura and Paul, and picked their way through the crowd, as the juke-box whined, and people laughed and shouted. As they reached the door, Jeannie told herself all she wanted now was to get back and have a long, hot bath and be alone.
She paused on the top step, and breathed in the fresh air, then followed Mike down the steps and across the lot to the car.
Mike pulled off the road, and drove down a short, corduroy-rutted trail. He stopped beside a pool of stagnant water whose surface was covered with flat, green lily leaves.
Jeannie sat propped between the door and the seat, and watched him switch off the motor and lights. He moved from beneath the steering wheel, and slid across the seat.
"Cigarette?" he asked.
"Thank you," she said, and took a cigarette from the pack he extended to her.
She cupped his hands as he lit the cigarette, then she took a deep drag and stared at his calm, handsome face in the match-light as he lit his cigarette.
He put his arm around her shoulder, and they smoked silently a moment. Jeannie heard the throbbing noises from the swamp around them, and she stared at the pool of water lit by the meagre moonlight which filtered through the limbs of the cypress trees.
Mike's first kiss was soft, barely brushing her lips. Then he kissed her cheek and her ear. He flicked his cigarette out the window, and kissed her lips again, a harder kiss to which she did not respond at all.
She felt his hand squeezing her shoulder as he pulled from her lips. His lips brushed her cheek again, and he said, "Jeannie," very softly.
His hand slid down to her waist as he ground his lips into hers again, and she opened her mouth slightly but did not respond, except to put her hand on his neck.
Then as he kissed her fiercely, she twisted her lips, and heard him gasp as she slithered her tongue into his mouth, and nicked it against his tongue-tip.
She scratched the back of his neck, and he sucked at her lips and slid his hand up from her waist. But she blocked his hand with hers, and rubbed her tongue against the roof of his mouth, and heard him suck in his breath.
She kissed him for a long while, scratching his neck and working her tongue in his mouth, and as he pulled from her lips, she saw that his face was red and his breathing irregular.
"Let's get into the back seat, baby," he said, between rushes of breath.
She traced a finger around the rim of his ear, and smiled faintly on the corners of her lips. "Now, you know we can't do that, Mike," she said.
He moved to her lips again, and his kiss was clumsy now. When he moved his hand up to cup her breast through her blouse, she did not stop him. And in a minute, as she twisted her lips in ways that she knew made him squirm, she thrust her breast against his cupping, squeezing hand.
Now his other hand rubbed up over her knee, and up the inside of her leg. She continued the tongue-teasing kiss, and moved one leg over the other, to block his hand from her thigh.
But she let him fumble her blouse unbuttoned, then pulled the blouse from the skirt. And she felt cooler as he tugged the blouse off.
He broke the kiss to stare with glazed eyes at the tiny white bra which could barely contain her large breasts. And she leaned forward and nibbled at his ear as he slipped his hands behind her, and skated his fingers over her sweating, smooth skin, and un-snapped the bra.
The bra fell open, and her breasts surged forward. He ripped the flimsy bra off, and his hands were trembling slightly as he grabbed the huge, white mounds which contrasted vividly with the golden skin around them.
She shifted slightly as he grabbed the breasts and cupped and squeezed. And he moved to her lips in a wet kiss as he rubbed the nipples in his fingers.
Then he lowered his head and his lips, wet and warm, replaced his hand on the breasts, and his tongue lashed the nipples.
She let him trail his fingers, feather-light, along her warm thighs, but blocked them just as he got to the bottom rim of her bikini-panties.
She petted without feeling now, using techniques she knew well. She could control herself easily, and enjoyed the idea of the game with Mike more than any sexual excitement.
And she told herself it was really quite disgusting the way he was panting and wheezing and pawing her. And finally, she shoved him away.
"We better get back to the campus," she said, as she stared with disgust at his scarlet face and quivering lips.
"Please, Jeannie," he said, and his voice was nearly whining. "You're so beautiful and so provocative and I like you so much."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then pulled away. "You're terribly sweet and all, Mike, dear," she said. "But we must go. And you must learn to control yourself better. Now don't argue, or I won't park with you again. And I could use a cigarette."
He stared at her a moment, from her bare breasts down to the skirt pulled up to her panties. Then he licked his lips, and fumbled a cigarette out and lit it for her. She took a deep drag, then put the cigarette in the ash tray.
She retrieved her blouse and bra and dressed leisurely, as she thought how stupid women like Laura and Edith were, to get all carried away about men, and degrade themselves trying to please them.
Jeannie leaned against the seat, and smoked, and heard something squeal back in the swamp. She sighed and realized she was bored with Mike, and thought of dating Chuck and wondered if he would be any more of a man than Mike was.
CHAPTER THREE
The evening was cool after a light rain, and drops of water still stood on shrubbery leaves, and sparkled like silver mists in broad spider webs. Jeannie walked slowly down the street in the purple haze of late dusk, and remembered how terribly hot and muggy it had been when she was out with Mike a couple of nights ago.
The air was sharp and clean after the rain, and Jeannie took a deep breath as she turned down the street Mark and Edith lived on. She told herself that she really felt good tonight, and she hoped dinner turned out to be pleasant.
She kicked idly at a rock, and watched it bob along the cracks of the sidewalk, and thought of her coming date with Chuck. Mike was terribly sweet and all, but even though just a few days ago she had been really interested in him, somehow after the last date she had no desire to see him again. She smiled and told herself that some night she was going to see just how excited she could get a boy.
She turned into the walk to Mark and Edith's, and asked herself if Chuck would be any different. Probably not, she answered. But at least he would be new and interesting and it would be fun to see what happened when they parked.
Just as she reached for the bell, the door opened abruptly, and she jumped back.
"I'm sorry to startle you," Edith said. "But I saw you coming up the walk."
"That's okay," Jeannie said, as she walked past Edith, and into the hall. "I guess I was too absorbed in my thoughts."
"About boys, I imagine," Edith said, as they walked down the hall.
"I'm afraid so," Jeannie said. "I must confess I honestly try to make good grades, but I don't walk around brooding about it."
"Well, enjoy yourself and be popular while you can," Edith said.
Her words were lined with bitterness, and as Jeannie walked into the den, she turned and stared at her sister. And she saw that Edith's face was flushed and that she moved a bit unsteadily. And as Edith walked across to the bar, Jeannie realized she was a bit tight.
"Why, just the other day you were lecturing me about being too interested in parties and dates," Jeannie said.
Jeannie watched Edith pour Scotch into a glass and add ice. Then Edith took a long swallow.
"Well, I worry about you," Edith said. "I mean, I want you to both make good grades and have fun. Now, how about a drink?"
"I don't want to seem too wicked for a mere student," Jeannie said. "Why, it's not even dark yet, and I'm being offered hard liquor."
Edith smiled, and Jeannie saw faint wrinkles around the corners of her eyes. "All right, don't rub it in," Edith said. "I'm sorry I brought on the big-sister stuff the other day. I doubt if a couple of drinks will corrupt you beyond redemption this evening."
"Then I'll have Scotch with a little water," Jeannie said.
As Edith started mixing the drink, Jeannie walked over and stared from the window. "Here, Jeannie," Edith said.
Jeannie turned and took the frosting glass and sipped from it. It was quite strong, not watered down like the drinks Edith usually gave her. And it tasted good, and she sipped again and smelled the leaves, and thought for an instant of dating Chuck.
"Where's Mark?" she asked.
"He said he had student conferences this evening and will be a little late," Edith said, and her eyes narrowed slightly.
Jeannie remembered now that Laura had a conference with Mark, on her term paper. And Jeannie knew that when she got back to the house, Laura would want to know if Mark had said anything about her. Jeannie sipped her Scotch and smiled to herself as she thought of Laura's childish crush on Mark.
And then Jeannie saw that Edith was staring at her, and she thought of the obvious implication in what Edith had just said. Jeannie took a quick sip of her drink, and nibbled her Up and her good mood evaporated instantly.
There was a heavy silence and Jeannie realized Edith expected her to say something, perhaps even to comment on what had just been said.
"I hope he's not too late," Jeannie said, quickly, and avoided Edith's eyes. "I'm starving."
Edith stepped to her. "Perhaps Mark's being late is fortunate," Edith said. "I've been wanting to talk to you, and this is as good a time as any."
Oh, Lord, Jeannie said to herself, and bolted down a deep swallow of Scotch. But she turned to Edith, and forced herself to smile.
"Of course," she said. "But I hope I'm not going to get a lecture."
"I'm afraid I don't feel at all like big sister tonight," Edith said. "No, I want to talk about me, and about Mark."
"Sure, Edith," Jeannie said, and tried to sound interested and even enthusiastic.
"You must know by now that Mark and I are having some, well, trouble," Edith said, nearly running her words together. "I think it's only fair to tell you what you must have sensed, because you keep getting the backlash of the trouble, such as the other day."
"Well, I didn't really notice," Jeannie said. "And even if I did, well, everybody has fights now and then. I mean, don't they?"
"I'm afraid it's more than a matter of an occasional fight," Edith said. "Jeannie, I hate to involve you, but I need your help."
"Sure, Edith," Jeannie said, with a conviction she did not feel.
"Jeannie, I love Mark very deeply, and I believe that he loves me," Edith said. "But lately, well, things have gone sour. I don't know exactly how to put this, but Mark is surrounded all day by lovely, young girls, and some of them must find him attractive, and well, I think he's having an affair. I've tried everything, but he just doesn't seem interested in me any longer."
"Well, Edith," Jeannie said, picking her words very carefully. "Mark is attractive and all, and I'm sure lots of girls have crushes on him. But that's all, as far as I know. I mean, I've certainly never heard of anything between Mark and any girl."
"Jeannie, this is important to me," Edith said, and she drained her glass again. "I'd rather know the truth."
"Honestly, Edith, I don't know a thing," Jeannie said. She sipped nervously and tried to think of some way, any way, to change the subject.
"Jeannie, you wouldn't lie, to protect some friend, would you?" Edith said. "I know that's a terrible thing to say, but I'm desperate. You don't know what it's like to find you're not young any longer, and have your husband surrounded by lovely young girls, and try everything you can think of to keep him in your bed."
Jeannie finished her drink in a long shuddering swallow, and the Scotch fell into a stomach drawn into a knot. She swallowed and licked her lips and again avoided Edith's eyes. She could not believe her own sister was talking this way, about her husband.
The silence was tense again, and Edith was mixing another drink. Jeannie walked over to the bar, and handed Edith her glass, and shook her head.
"I'll swear, Edith, I don't know a thing about Mark and anyone at school," Jeannie said. "And I wouldn't he to you, not for anything on earth."
Edith turned suddenly, and her narrowed eyes burned into Jeannie. "I'm not so sure about that," she said.
Jeannie's heart started pounding, and her cheeks colored, and she looked away from the burning eyes, and thought of running right out of the house.
Then there was the sound of a car turning from the street into the driveway. Edith hurried over and looked out the window.
"It's Mark," she said. "We'll finish our talk some other time."
Jeannie nodded and took the glass Edith had ignored and mixed herself a strong drink. She heard Mark come in and slam the door, and she glanced to see Edith walking slowly across the room.
Edith met Mark at the door to the den, and he pecked at her lips, then walked over to the bar and smiled at Jeannie.
"Sorry to be late, ladies," he said, as he picked up the bottle of Scotch and poured a couple of inches into a glass and added ice. "But teaching is not like working in a factory. I don't punch a time-clock. I hope you forgive me."
"I forgive you, but I'm famished," Jeannie said.
"We must realize Mark's work comes first," Edith said sharply. "But before a member of the family starves in the house, I'll run back and put dinner on the table."
Jeannie sipped her drink and watched Edith walk quickly from the room.
"I'm afraid Edith sometimes wishes I did work in a factory," Mark said, and Jeannie realized he was trying to force a levity into his voice.
She turned from the window and smiled. "I'm afraid, Dr. Reed, that I, for one, find it difficult to picture you in a factory, or anywhere except on a college campus."
Mark returned the smile. "I'm not sure that's a compliment," he said. "I suddenly feel put into a pigeon-hole. Are my pipe and tweed jacket and horn-rimmed glasses showing too much?"
Jeannie smiled deeper, but she did not answer. She sipped her Scotch, and thought how much more pleasant it was talking to Mark. She thought of how weak and whining Edith had been, and she stared at Mark and told herself she could not see him losing control of himself, or degrading himself in any way, or being weak like Edith.
Then she saw the way Mark was looking at her, and she asked herself how Mark would be, parked in a car with her. Maybe he just seemed so strong because Edith was so weak.
She turned to look from the window, and told herself she should not even be thinking such a thing. Her own sister's husband! And despite Edith's suspicions, she knew Mark was not involved with any of the coeds. But then she suddenly wondered why she would know if he was. Certainly, since she was his sister-in-law, she would be the last person to be told.
"How about another drink?" Mark asked.
Jeannie turned and drained her Scotch and handed the glass to Mark. But Edith stuck her head in the door and announced that dinner was ready.
Dinner was a bit strained, though both Mark and Edith were obviously trying hard to make it pleasant. There was a discussion of campus gossip, then about the possible resignation of the dean of women, who Jeannie figured must be at least eighty years old.
Edith served red wine with the roast beef, and Jeannie had several glasses, and by the time dessert and coffee were served, she was in a good mood again. And the tension seemed to have eased between Mark and Edith.
Then the ring of the phone cut sharply into the room, and Edith went into the hall to answer it. And when she came back, her face was set, and her eyes narrowed.
"It's some girl," she said, her lips drawn thin. "The one who calls here all the time, Mark."
Mark hurried out to the phone, and his words were muffled, but Jeannie could tell he was talking rapidly, and a bit desperately. In a minute, he walked slowly back into the room, and glanced down at Jeannie.
"It was Lama Williams," he said. "I forgot to return the outline of her term paper, and she wants you to bring it with you. She says she needs it to work on tonight."
"Well, I'm glad to see some of the coeds are dedicated to their studies," Edith said.
"Sure, I'll take it," Jeannie said. "And I think I really ought to be running along."
"If it's raining, I'll drive you," Mark said.
Jeannie walked over to the window, and told herself Laura had been silly calling here like this. She glanced out at the wet streets a moment, and wondered what was really happening with Laura and Mark.
"It seems to have stopped," she said, as she turned. "So I can walk back to the house with no trouble. Dinner was wonderful, Edith."
She went over and kissed Edith on the cheek, and nodded at Mark. As she walked into the hall, Mark called her.
"Don't forget Miss William's outline," he said, as he came up behind her. "It's in the briefcase out here by the door."
They walked slowly down the long hall, and Jeannie stood by the door while Mark took his briefcase from a table, and fumbled through it. He took out a couple of sheets of paper and handed them to Jeannie. And he looked down at her in a very funny way, that made little shivers play over her spine.
But she did not look away. Not until she heard Edith calling Mark. Then she turned and put her hand on the knob, but paused.
"Good-night, Mark," she said, softly.
"Good-night, Jeannie," he said, and the strangeness of his smile was in his voice.
She opened the door and ran down the steps, but forced herself to move slower down the walk. But her heart was beating just a bit faster as she turned toward the sorority house.
And she told herself she was definitely going to find out just what was happening between Mark and Lama. She did not know what she would do if there was actually something between them, but just thinking about it excited her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jeannie talked to the housemother as she signed in, and she realized she was just the least bit tight from the wine and whiskey she had had at Mark and Edith's. She nodded and smiled at some silly thing the housemother was saying about a sorority party, but she was simply dying to get upstairs and talk to Laura.
Finally, two other girls came in, and Jeannie said good-night, and dashed up the steps. Her heart was pounding as she walked down the thick-carpeted hall and stopped outside Laura's room. She knocked and when Laura answered, she shoved the door open and went in.
"Hi," Laura said, from the bed where she was propped up against pillows, with a book on her lap.
"I have your stuff from Mark's," Jeannie said. "Where's Peggy?"
"She hasn't come in yet," Laura said. "And thank you for bringing the outline. I want to get some work done on it tonight."
Jeannie smiled broadly. "You always were the studious kind," she said.
Laura smiled, too, and shook her head. "All right," she said. "I know I shouldn't have called. But I couldn't resist the temptation."
Jeannie sat down on the edge of the other bed, and stared at Laura a long moment, at the black hair, and pale, pretty face, and the full body barely covered by the flimsy white shortie pajamas.
Jeannie thought of Lama giving her body to a man, letting some man pound up and down on top of her, and Jeannie shuddered. And she told herself that although Laura was really pretty, in a plain sort of way, and had a really nice body, there was nothing outstanding about her looks.
"Hey, why the silence and the funny stare?" Laura said. "You know I'm half paranoid as it is."
Jeannie forced a faint smile on the edge of her lips. "Sorry," she said. "I think I had a little too much to drink. And when I do, I tend to stare and sort of drift away."
"Come on," Lama said. "You know what I want to hear." She threw her book aside, and scrambled up and sat on the edge of the bed.
"About Mark?" Jeannie said. "Well, you caused quite a stir in the house by calling, I can tell you that. Edith referred to you as the girl who calls all the time."
"Why, I've only called two or three times," Lama said. "And then only for perfectly legitimate reasons."
"Well, Edith is a bit touchy, I'm afraid," Jeannie said. "In fact, she came on to me about Mark and his students tonight."
"It's not really fair for me to get you involved," Lama said. "I mean, being Edith's sister, and all.
Yet, the whole thing is so unbelievably innocent. So I don't feel so bad."
"How innocent?" Jeannie asked, quickly. Again she felt the flow of excitement as she thought of Mark's being involved with someone like Laura.
Laura stood up, and walked over to the dresser. She glanced at herself, and Jeannie twisted around and told herself that Laura was a little thin, and that her buttocks were a bit too small.
"Completely innocent, believe me, Jeannie," Laura said, as she picked up a pack of cigarettes, and walked back to the bed and sat down.
"What would you do if Mark suddenly showed an interest in you?" Jeannie asked.
"Well, really, he has sort of shown an interest, Jeannie," Laura said. "I go for conferences and we talk about all kinds of things, and he's asked me to have coffee with him several times. But that's all."
"Edith is convinced he's having an affair with someone," Jeannie said. "She really pumped me, and even got a bit nasty and accused me of covering up for a friend."
"I know this is a terrible thing to ask, but would you cover up for me, Jeannie?" Laura asked. "I mean if something really happened with Mark."
Jeannie nibbled her lip a moment, and watched Laura take quick puffs from the cigarette. She told herself it would be wicked and exciting to be sort of in the middle of something like that. Just thinking about it made her heart pump a little.
"I'm no stool-pigeon," she said, finally. "Even for my sister. And I have to confess that I like Mark better than Edith, so I certainly would not want to cause him any trouble, and I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, Lama. Why, we've been good friends since we were freshmen. But tell me, would you really get deeply involved with Mark? I mean really intimately involved."
Laura mashed the cigarette out in an ash tray, and looked at Jeannie. "Do you mean would I go all the way with him?" she asked.
"Well, sure, that's what I mean," Jeannie said, and she told herself she did not like the tone of Lama's words.
"I think I'm in love with him, Jeannie," Laura said. "If he wasn't married, then if he wanted me, I wouldn't hesitate to go all the way with him. But I've never been involved with a married man, and if I did, I'd feel absolutely awful."
"But you'd do it?" Jeannie asked, and she leaned forward, and saw that Lama was drumming her fingers on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, I think I would," Laura said. "If I love a man, I want to be a complete woman for him."
"No matter what it costs you in dignity and self-respect?" Jeannie asked.
Lama shook her head, and brushed a strand of black hair from her pale forehead. Then she smiled, an obviously patronizing smile that upset Jeannie.
"I just don't think of it that way," Laura said. "I feel more degraded by heavy petting that leaves both me and the man frustrated and miserable. I'm not promiscuous, Jeannie. But we'll soon be engaged and married, and I think it's time to start acting like a woman. At least, for me. I know you don't agree with me."
"Hardly," Jeannie said, with emphasis. She started to say something else, but checked herself. Because she knew if she and Laura got into a bitter and critical argument, Laura might not let her know if something did happen with Mark.
"Sometime you'll fall in love with a man, and you'll be surprised how you just flutter and go wild when he even kisses you," Laura said. "And you know you'll do anything to please him and make him want you."
"Maybe, but I doubt it," Jeannie said. How disgusting, she added to herself as she stared at Laura's pretty, white face and thought of that face sweating and the lips quivering as she "pleased" some man and let him do just anything he wanted as she whined and panted.
Then Jeannie realized Laura was staring at her, and she felt uneasy, and shifted about on the bed, then nibbled her hp.
"Sorry to stare a hole through you," Laura said, and looked away.
Jeannie had the strangest feeling that Laura was trying to picture her writhing about and groaning and making love, and just the thought made her angry.
Jeannie stood up. "Guess I better run along," she said. "I've got to wash my hair tonight. And I really ought to study for that stupid lit test that's coming up.
"All right," Laura said. "And thanks for dropping
"I'll see you at breakfast," Jeannie said, as she walked across the room.
"Good night," Laura called as Jeannie closed the door, and turned down the hall to her room.
Jeannie moved slowly, nearly dragging her feet, and she felt her cheeks flushing slightly as she remembered the way Lama had looked at her. The very idea of such a thing as getting carried away with a man made her angry. She paused with her hand on the knob of her bedroom door, and told herself that Edith must have done everything in the world to please Mark, and look how miserable she was.
The room was dark, and she remembered that Susan, her roommate, had a date. She flicked the light on, and crossed the room and went into the bathroom. She got a drink of water, then stared at herself in the mirror a moment.
She licked around her full lips, and thought of how easily those lips and that tongue could excite boys, and she smiled on the corners of the lips and shook her head at the absurdity of her lovely, calm face ever being twisted with degrading, panting passion because of some man. She went back into the bedroom and kicked her shoes off, and sank down onto the bed.
She twisted around to get more comfortable, and her tight skirt was pulled high over knees. She stared down at her lovely, golden thighs, and remembered the way Mark had stared at her body. And the desperate way Mike had wanted her.
She rubbed down over her thighs, then curled her legs up and thought that tomorrow night, she would go out with Chuck. He seemed so much more mature and confident than other boys she knew.
She stretched her body taut a moment, then relaxed. But she knew once they parked, Chuck would be like any other boy. She couldn't do it tomorrow night, because she had just started dating him. But she closed her eyes, and stretched again, and told herself that after a while, she was going to let herself go, and see just how excited and desperate she could get Chuck.
And for an instant, she let herself imagine a petting session with Mark, and how delicious it would be to see his handsome, calm face distorted and sweating as he begged her to make love.
Jeannie scrambled up and scraped her feet lazily through the thick rug as she moved to the bathroom. Poor Laura, poor silly, weak Laura, she told herself. But as she started undressing, she was already thinking how exciting it was going to be to watch things happen with Mark and Laura, and hear Laura's descriptions of their times together.
CHAPTER FIVE
The band played faster and faster, and Jeannie and Chuck swayed in rhythm with the pulsating music, moved their bodies in fantastic motions while their feet barely moved. Jeannie noticed that other couples had stopped dancing and were standing back now and clapping. She was glad that she had worn her new, skin-hugging, rust-colored dress, which looked just terrific on her, and did wonders for her jutting buttocks.
She swayed her behind just a bit excessively, and saw Chuck staring at her gyrating body. She smiled faintly, and twisted her body, and glanced at the way the boys were staring at her, as they clapped to the fantastic rhythm.
Then suddenly, just as she felt she would jerk right out of her tight dress and the music and clapping were deafening, the band stopped playing. There was a loud cheer and more clapping, and Jeannie collapsed into Chuck's arms, and gasped out her rushing breath.
"You were great, baby," Chuck said.
"So were you," she said, as she wiped at her sweating face with the back of her hand.
The music was soft and slow now, and Chuck slowly twirled her around, and she felt her legs would buckle. She closed her eyes, and drifted with music, and pressed her body against Chuck. She felt him try to snuggle closer to her, and then his hands were pressing sharply into her back, then sliding down.
The hands stopped just above her buttocks, and pressed, and then Chuck kissed her gently on the ear, and twirled her around and around. Jeannie's legs still felt weak, and she was soaked with sweat.
She opened her eyes, and pulled a little away from his body. "Could we get something cold to drink?" she asked. "Frankly, I'm beat."
"Me too, baby," he said.
He took her hand and they picked their way across the crowded dance floor, and through the french doors and down the steps to the patio of the lodge.
She felt much cooler outside by the lake now, and really good, and she told herself she wished the night could go on and on. As Chuck led her to a bar on the far side of the patio, beside the sloping hill that led through tall pines to the lake, she told herself there was no reason why her life should change, why it should not always be this delicious, with boys just literally worshipping everything about her.
Then she glanced back at Chuck and admired his rugged, handsome face, and knew that some of the girls here tonight were looking enviously at her, because Chuck was one of the handsomest and most popular boys on the campus. And one of the best dancers, too.
Nothing but the best, she told herself, as Chuck turned from the bar with two glasses, and walked quickly to her. He handed her a tall, frosting glass of gin and tonic and tilted his glass at her.
"To the loveliest girl here tonight," he said.
"Why, I do believe you're trying to flatter me, sir," she said. She stood on her toes and leaned up and kissed his cheek quickly. Then she took a deep swallow of the ice-cold drink. It tasted great, just what she wanted, and took a couple more swallows.
"To think we've been sitting in old Dr. West's class all these weeks, and never got together after class," Chuck said.
"Why I always thought you were the bookish type, and only interested in things in literature," she said, and licked around the rim of the glass.
Chuck put his hand on her waist and squeezed and pulled her to him. "I'll show you how bookish I am," he said, as he slid his hand around and moved to kiss her.
But she brushed her lips past his mouth, and nibbled an instant at his ear. "Why, I do believe you would have kissed me, right on the mouth, and in this public place," she said, in a mock-hurt, little-girl tone. "And I really did think you wanted to discuss literatme with me."
Chuck laughed, and squeezed her waist, then let her go. "Well, actually you're right," he said. "You discovered my secret, Jeannie. All I really want to do is talk about books with you, but I was afraid if I told you that when I asked you out, you'd refuse."
"Books are all I'm really interested in, too," she said, and smiled demurely.
"That dance floor is going to be like an oven," he said. "Why don't we go somewhere and talk, somewhere it will be cool."
Jeannie cocked her head and tried to look studious.
"I think we could arrange that," she said. "That is, if we could take something cool to drink with us."
"You finish your drink," he said. "And I'll get a bottle and some ice and set-ups."
Jeannie smiled her lips into a pout and nodded. She licked at her lips, and saw the way Chuck was staring at her face, then down her body, from the thrust of her lush breasts to the flaring hips and slim, tapered legs. She took a small sip of the drink, and told herself to remember not to get the new dress wrinkled when they parked.
"I'll get a big bottle," Chuck said, as he looked from her body.
"Yes, it could be a long discussion," she said. "We might even get as far as poetry."
"I suspect you know a great deal about poetry," he said. "In your way. Your special poetry."
"How did you guess?" she said.
"I think it was the poetic way you moved your body when we danced," he said. "Here, let me get that stuff so we can get out of here."
Again, Jeannie nodded. He hurried away, over the bar, and Jeannie thought of what he had said about her being a poet. She laughed to herself at the very idea that she might be interested in silly poems.
But she drank the tepid, watered gin, and told herself that in the way he meant, she really was a poet. And in the not too distant future, she would show Chuck just how very poetic she could be, when they were parked.
Chuck drove rapidly along the narrow, blacktop road which paralelled the lake, and Jeannie leaned back in the convertible, and let the wind tousle her hair as she stared at the stars.
Chuck was slowing down now, and she sat up, and over at him. His handsome face was profiled in the faint moonlight, and she wondered what it would be like to have him kiss her, and to hear his deep breathing and have his huge hands on her body.
Just thinking of it made little tingles go over her spine, and she realized her heart was pumping a slight bit. Of comse, she could not do much on this date. She made it a rule not to do much at first. But soon, well, Chuck would get a chance to see just how strong and self-confident he really was.
Chuck parked beneath a pair of tall pine trees, and switched the motor and lights off. But he left the radio on, and the soft music added to Jeannie's good feeling.
"I think this is a good spot to discuss literature," Chuck said, as he slid from beneath the steering wheel.
"It's lovely, Chuck," she said. And it was, she told herself. So much nicer than parking in the stupid swamp.
"How about a drink?" he asked. "I make a particularly good gin and tonic."
"I can't wait to try one," she said.
"You care for a cigarette while the bartender's busy?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, I don't think so," she said. "I'll just watch the bartender work."
Chuck leaned over the back seat, and filled two paper cups with ice from a battered old portable Coca-Cola ice box. Then he poured in three-fourths of a cup of gin, and a little tonic. He handed the cup to Jeannie and watched as she took a tentative sip.
She moved back, and propped herself between the seat and the door, and twisted her legs beneath her in a way that pulled her skirt above her knees.
"Good, then we can get on with our serious discussion of literature," he said, and slid next to her and put his arm around her.
"Yes, and about poetry," she said, tilting her face up to be kissed.
He squeezed her shoulder as he leaned down and pressed his lips softly against hers. She put her hand on the back of his neck, and rubbed gently, and heard crickets chirping softly and saw lights twinkling far below on the lake.
His kiss was surprisingly soft, and she closed her eyes an instant, and rubbed his neck, and let herself enjoy the feel of his lips. Then she scratched his neck, and he twisted the kiss harder.
She kept her mouth closed and let him just shove the tip of his tongue through the lips, then she broke the kiss, and let her lips trail over his cheek, and brush against his ear.
His hand slid down to squeeze her arm, and again, he sought her mouth with his. This time, she parted her lips slightly as he kissed her, but she blocked his tongue with her teeth. Then suddenly, she bit the tip of his tongue gently, then snaked her tongue into his mouth, and teased the roof of his mouth, and dug her nails into the back of his neck.
He kissed her fiercely, and she opened her lips and worked them in ways that she knew just drove boys wild. And her hot, slender tongue lashed his tongue-tip.
They kissed for a long while, and she used her tongue and lips in expert ways, and scratched and tickled and stroked his neck, and the rims of his ears.
When he slid a hand down to cup a heavy breast through the dress, his breathing was just a bit quicker, but she noticed he was not getting excited as easily as most boys did. She shoved the kiss into a wild, wet, tongue-filled thing, and tickled his ears and neck, and let him squeeze her breast for a moment.
Then she pulled from his lips and gently but firmly tugged his grasping hand from her breast. But as he started to say something, she suddenly shifted so that her knee rubbed against his leg.
And now he was breathing harder, and his face was the tiniest bit red, and he licked his lips as she glanced down at the expanse of bare, copper-toned thigh beneath the tight dress.
"Why, we completely forgot about literature," she said, and smiled on the corners of her puffed lips.
"To hell with literature," he muttered, and moved to her lips.
She let him kiss her, but did not respond to the urgency of his surging, twisting lips, or the frantic way he lashed inside her mouth. But finally she returned the kiss, and let him cup her breast.
And as she nibbled at his tongue-tip, and scratched his neck, and twisted her breast harder against his grasping hand, she told herself she had to make a decision about how far she wanted to go with him tonight. Because soon, she was either going to have to quit, or take her dress off before it got hopelessly pawed and wrinkled.
Then she felt him squeeze the breast, and let his other hand trail over her knee and onto her thigh, she glanced at the dash-board clock, and saw that they would have to quit, and get back to school before she got campused.
So for a moment, she kissed him with a wild, hot kiss, and dug her nails into the back of his neck, and let him slide a hand beneath the dress to paw at a lush breast. And she let his fingers trail up the inside of her warm, intimate thigh, all the way to the bottom rim of her tiny panties.
Then she abruptly pulled from his lips and shoved his hands from her body. "My Lord, look at the time," she said, with an edge on her voice. "Why, you weren't paying any attention, and I could get campused for a week."
"I'm sorry, Jeannie," Chuck said, as he tried to check his rushing breath. "But you're so lovely, I completely lost myself."
Jeannie moved her feet to the floor of the car, and smoothed her dress down, then looked up at him with an expressionless face. "That's all quite flattering," she said. "But I don't expect to have to worry about getting campused when I go out with you."
"I promise, there will be no problem next time," he said. And he leaned down and kissed her lips.
But she twisted away. "Really, Chuck," she said. "We've got to start back. It's been such a good evening together. Let's not spoil it here at the last minute."
He stared at her a moment, and licked his lips. Then he slid back under the steering wheel. "Sure, Jeannie," he said. "I'd rather do anything than spoil the evening with you. It's been great. I really mean that. You're some girl. I mean, unlike any girl on campus. Can I see you tomorrow night?"
"Call me tomorrow, Chuck," she said, as he turned on the motor and lights, and backed around to the trail and started down. She twisted the rear-view mirror and switched on the dashboard light and dabbed on lipstick, then combed her hair and thought how utterly divine the next petting session would be.
CHAPTER SIX
Jeannie ran down the steps and into the dining room. There was a hum of sleepy talk, and the clink of silverware against plates. Jeannie nodded at several girls as she hurried over and sat down with Laura at a small table by the far door.
"Lord, you look like something the cat drug in," Jeannie said, as she stared at Laura's puffy eyes. And her face didn't have a trace of make-up which accentuated her paleness.
Laura took a long sip of black coffee and looked up and tried without success to force a smile. "Oh, hello," she said, in a flat voice. "Good morning, and all that. I'm afraid I'm not quite yet among the living!"
"Surely you weren't up studying all night," Jeannie said.
"No, just worrying," Laura said.
She leaned closer to Laura. "I'm having coffee with Edith in a few minutes," she added.
"That's part of my worrying," Laura said.
"You're really caught up with that Mark thing?" Jeannie asked.
"I really am," Laura said. "And then there's Paul. Oh, Jeannie, I just don't know what on earth to do anymore."
"I just know Edith's going to discuss Mark, and ask all sorts of questions," Jeannie said.
"Well, you can answer her in all honesty that nothing is happening," Laura said. "If you discount what happens in my fantasies."
"I told you I wouldn't be a stool-pigeon," Jeannie said. She wondered for an instant if Laura was being honest, but she told herself it was obvious she was.
"And why in the world are you still worrying about Paul?" Jeannie asked, as she set the empty glass down on the white, linen tablecloth.
"Because we were close and I once thought I loved him, and I'm hurting him terribly," Lama said, so quickly that Jeannie hardly understood her.
"I see," Jeannie said, and avoided Laura's puffy, dark eyes. Jeannie told herself she felt so great, and last night with Chuck had been so good, that she was not going to let herself get drawn into Lama's childish, morbid mood, simply because of men and true love and all that silly stuff.
"I don't have to say I'll be dying to hear what your sister thinks," Lama said. "And I promise to be back among the living when I see you again."
"Of course, I'll tell you, silly," Jeannie said, as she stood up. "Now, I must run."
Jeannie hurried from the dining room, and down the long hall and out of the house. Dew sparkled on the thick carpet of grass, and Jeannie saw that tiny leaves dotted the limbs of the oak trees. She walked quickly and inhaled the sweet honeysuckle, and told herself everything was simply too wonderful now, and she just felt terrific this morning.
She nearly danced up the steps of the Student Union Building, and then she saw Chuck hurrying toward her. She stopped and stared at him, and how handsome and assured he looked in a tweed jacket and narrow, striped tie, and she remembered parking with him last night.
"Looks like I can save a phone call," he said.
"Yes, it always pays to be thrifty when you can," she said.
"Will you go out with me tonight, Jeannie?" he said. "There's this great place, way down the river, and nobody from school goes there, and I hear they have incredible food, and a good combo."
Jeannie looked up into Chuck's face, and she remembered the ways he had kissed her lips last night, and pawed at her body, and the way his breath had been rushing when they quit petting. .
"I'm afraid I can't tonight," she said, after a minute. "I have some things to do. But I enjoyed last night, and I want to see you again soon."
"Soon," he said. "What the hell? Why the whole future of literature may depend on your seeing me, say, tomorrow night."
Again, Jeannie looked up into Chuck's face, and shifted her weight to one leg so that her buttocks were thrust tautly against her tight green skirt.
She let him stare just a moment, then moved up a step, and smiled very faintly. "Yes, tomorrow night is okay," she said.
"Seven again?" he asked.
"That's good," she said. She leaped up and kissed his cheek, then ran up the steps before he could say anything.
And then she stopped cold. Edith was standing at the door, looking down at her.
She nibbled her lower lip and shuffled her feet. Then she told herself she was being childish so she ran up the rest of the steps and stopped beside Edith.
"Am I late?" Jeannie asked, and immediately felt stupid.
"On time for a change," Edith said. "Actually, I was quite early. Mark had a class, and I rode down here with him. He seemed amused that I wanted to have coffee with you here, since he seems to consider this the worst place in the world to eat."
"Well, the Union is not exactly famous for its coffee," Jeannie said. "You make such great coffee. And you know, you could have come over to the house, since you're a member of the sorority." And Jeannie had a sudden rush of excitement as she thought of having coffee with Edith, and having Lama sitting right there.
"Oh, I feel like coming to the Union, for some reason," Edith said. "Perhaps to re-discover my youth. Anyway, let's go in."
"Fine," Jeannie said. "I haven't had coffee yet and I could drink anything at this point."
Jeannie followed Edith through the door, and down a corridor lined with trophy cases and huge photos of winning football teams. Jeannie had to admit that Edith looked good in a brown suit, but there had been those lines under her eyes, and that obvious nervousness.
They found a deserted booth in a far corner, and ordered coffee and doughnuts from a fat waitress. Edith discussed the most mundane things at first, and Jeannie found it difficult even to fake interest in what she was saying.
But as she sipped her coffee that tasted like rejected dishwater, she told herself Edith was nervous, and was hesitating about what she really wanted to say. And Edith was glancing about the crowded room, and staring at the girls.
Finally, as Jeannie broke off a piece of doughnut and ate it, she decided she simply could not endure another second of this. "How are things going with Mark?" Jeannie asked, and told herself Edith would hem and haw all day if she did not get the discussion started.
Edith set her cup down and leaned back against the seat. She shook her head. "Worse than ever," she said. "Frankly, that's the reason I wanted to have coffee with you this morning."
"I see," Jeannie said. "Well, sure, what can I do?" She leaned forward, and realized how anxious now she was to hear Edith's troubles, and how reluctant she had been that day at her house.
"You remember our conversation that was interrupted by Mark, the night you had dinner with us?" Edith asked.
"Sure, I remember," Jeannie said.
"Jeannie, I'm desperate," Edith said. "Please be honest with me. Is Mark having an affair with one of his students?"
"Oh, Edith, I told you that as far as I know, absolutely nothing is happening," Jeannie said. "And since I'm Mark's sister-in-law, I'd certainly be the last person to know if there was something."
"But you did mention that some of the girls had crushes on him," Edith said, and Jeannie saw that her eyes had narrowed a bit.
Jeannie shrugged, and stared at the lines under Edith's eyes. "Did I mention that?" she asked. "I just meant since he is nice-looking, some of the girls might. I certainly did not have anyone in mind."
"We're talking in circles again," Edith said. "Jeannie, won't you please help me? I know in many ways we've never been as close as sisters should be. But I don't know where to turn. If I just knew who the girl was, and something about her, then I could make some decision. Tell me honestly, is Mark involved with your friend Lama?"
"Oh, Edith, don't be silly," Jeannie said. "Laura's been going with Paul for months. Tell me why on earth you suspect her."
Edith started to speak, but picked up her cup and drained the coffee. Her eyes narrowed again, accentuating the lines.
"What difference does it make, if you're not going to help me?" Edith said. "For all I know, you'll run right to some coed, and repeat everything I say."
"Now Edith, I'm not going to sit here and be insulted," Jeannie said. "You have no right to talk to me that way. I think you're just imagining things."
"Do you?" Edith said, and her words were bitter. "You can't sleep with a man every night for years, and then not notice when he starts going to sleep the minute he hits the bed, and doesn't respond when you make love, no matter what you do."
"What do you mean, no matter what you do?" Jeannie asked.
"I believe a woman should do whatever she can to please her man," Edith said. "With her body, her hands, her mouth, and...."
Edith broke the sentence, and suddenly she laughed harshly, and shook her head.
"What's wrong," Jeannie asked.
"You seem to show a great deal more interest in my sex life with Mark, than in the future of our marriage," Edith said.
Jeannie blushed, and cursed herself, and nibbled at her lip. "That's a terrible thing to say," she said.
"I guess we don't really know each other at all," Edith said. "But you know, Jeannie, I suspect you may be turning into a rather terrible little girl. There's a certain selfishness and childishness about you that's frankly rather chilling. I just wonder what kind of wife you'll make."
Jeannie felt her cheeks burning. She dug her teeth into her lip, and her body went rigid.
"I'm sorry, Jeannie," Edith said, as she stood up. "I had no right to say that. I apologize. But I better run along before we get into a fight that will end forever what little understanding there still is between us. Please don't say anything now. I'll call you later, and I promise, this is the last time I'll bring up the subject of my trouble with Mark."
"All right," Jeannie forced herself to say, though the words nearly choked coming out. She swallowed to relieve a parched throat, and watched Edith turn and walk quickly from the grill.
Jeannie was suddenly shaking with anger as she climbed from the booth. She did not even bother to speak to people as she stumbled from the grill, and outside the Union Building.
Her good mood had evaporated, and she hurried back to the house, cmsing Edith with each step. No one had ever dared talk to her that way, and she was appalled that it had come from her own sister.
Then, as she turned into the long, winding walk up the house, she asked herself what could she expect from a woman who was incapable of holding onto a man, no matter how she degraded herself in bed. She remembered what Edith had said about her body, and hands, and mouth.
Jeannie shuddered, and told herself she should have pity on Edith, instead of hating her. But some way, some time soon, she swore to herself that she would make Edith pay for calling her childish and a terrible little girl.
The house was deserted, and she was glad she did not have to go through the facade of talking to girls, and explaining why she was not in class.
Jeannie went into her room, and undressed slowly. Then she walked into the bathroom, and turned the shower on. But she paused to stare at her naked body in the full-length mirror.
She rubbed her palms over the ripe breasts which thrust upward, topped with exquisite red nipples. Down over flat stomach. Around her luscious hips and her beautiful jutting buttocks, and the golden-smooth thighs.
She smiled and stood on her toes and tensed her body. Poor Edith, she said, half aloud. If poor Edith had a body like her childish little sister, maybe she could take care of the man she wanted.
Jeannie stepped into the shower, and turned the hot water on, and her spine tingled deliciously as the sharp, hot points danced over her body. She stepped back and let the hot water play over her breasts and the sharp jets made her red nipples swell slightly and sent shivers over her body.
She closed her eyes and told herself if she was involved with Mark, she would show Edith how much of a child she was. Mark would be the one to degrade himself, and she would make him want this lovely body in ways he did not know possible.
Then as she picked up the soap and a wash cloth, she thought of her date tomorrow night with Chuck. She started soaping her body, rubbing leisurely and excitingly, and told herself that tomorrow night, she would not stop the petting, but would see how much of a child Chuck thought she was.
She smiled, and turned the water just a bit hotter, and soaped her perfect body, and told herself that life was perfect now, and would be even better tomorrow night.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jeannie took a sip of her cognac, and looked across the table at Chuck. He tilted the glass at her, and smiled. Then he put his hand over hers on the table.
"Dinner was simply fabulous," she said. And it had been, she told herself. Really good, and really expensive.
"Only the best for a fabulous girl," Chuck said.
He squeezed her hand, and she smiled. She finished her cognac, and settled back and listened to the combo, and knew that Chuck was staring intently at her. She had worn a new copper-brown skirt and blouse outfit that offset her coloring perfectly, and did wonders for her body. And Chuck had missed none of the wonders, she had caught him staring holes through the dress a dozen times since they left the house and drove down here.
"Do you want to dance again, or shall we go?" Chuck asked.
"I'm much too full to want to dance," she said. "And feel much too mellow. Let's go."
"I was hoping you'd feel that way," Chuck said.
He called the waiter over and paid the check, and left a generous tip. Then he came around and pulled her chair out, and took her hand.
She leaned up and kissed his lips softly, then pulled away. They crossed the dance floor, and Jeannie knew the men were staring at the way her poking buttocks were outlined in the tight skirt.
An attendant brought Chuck's convertible around from the parking lot, and opened the door for Jeannie. She climbed in, and made no effort to smooth down the skirt which was pulled above her knees.
As Chuck got in and started the car and switched the lights on, he did not hide the way he glanced at her bare thighs. He leaned over and put a hand on her knee, and kissed her lips, a quick but intense kiss to which she did not respond.
Then he drove rapidly down the twisting, pine-tree-lined road, and stopped at the highway. She propped herself against the door, and waited to see where he suggested they park, or exactly what he would do. Her heart was pumping just a bit at the thought of the coming petting session.
"I have an idea," he said. "It's still early. Why don't we do something different, and take the ferry out to Shell Island and go dancing in one of the raunchy places there. And then we can take a walk along the beach."
"That sounds great," she said. "It's so warm, and maybe we could even go wading. Oh, I'd like that." And from what she remembered from the only time she'd been out to the island, there were plenty of places to be alone.
They just made the ferry, and the man at the ramp grumbled as they drove onto the rusting old boat. Chuck stopped in the middle of a group of Fords and Chevrolets in the dimly-lit car-deck of the boat, and switched off the motor and lights. He offered Jeannie a cigarette, and she shook her head.
Then he slid across the seat, and put his hand on her chin, and tilted her face up. She sat demurely, with her feet on the floor and her hands in her lap, while he kissed her lips softly.
As he cupped her face in his large hands, she watched the meager light accentuate the rugged, handsome features of his face, and she smiled slightly as he pulled her to him, and again kissed her gently.
She sat still for a moment, then suddenly, she opened her mouth, and twisted her lips roughly against his, and slid her slender tongue into his mouth, and flicked his tongue-tip.
Then just as abruptly, she pulled away, and curled her legs up on the seat between them. He tried to kiss her again, but it was obviously awkward for him to reach over, with her outstretched legs between them.
"Do you like my new skirt?" she asked.
He glanced down to where the skirt rode high on her thighs, and licked his lips. "It's lovely," he said. "Just perfect for you."
"It's a new kind of weave," she said. "Imported from England. Here, feel it."
And she took his hand in hers, and guided his fingers to the bottom of the skirt. He made a pretense of feeling the material, but his fingers lingered on her thigh, and he rubbed slowly around the bottom of the skirt.
"Very nice texture," he said.
Then he put his hand palm down on the bare thigh, and leaned forward and kissed her again, a gentle kiss that he ground harder, until he was sucking at her mouth again, and his tongue was forcing its way through her teeth.
Jeannie put her hand to his chin and gently moved his face back, but ran a finger around his lips. "Chuck, dear, we have something of an audience down here, and we'll soon have the whole island, so why not take it easy for now?" she said. "And besides, I'm suffocating down here."
He took his hand from her thigh, and kissed the finger that toyed with his lips, then pulled away from her.
"All right, why don't we go up and get some air," he said.
He moved across the seat and opened the door, and she slid over and climbed out on his side. They picked their way through the cars, and climbed a narrow, spiral stairway to the upper deck.
They walked to the bow, which was deserted, and held hands and Jeannie took deep breaths of the rushing, water-fresh wind which whipped her honey-blond hair about.
Jeannie moved closer to Chuck, and he put his arm around her shoulder, and leaned down and kissed her ear. She tilted her face up, and put her hands on his neck, and kissed his lips, then pulled away.
When he sought her lips, and murmured, "Jeannie, Jeannie," she kept moving her face just enough to avoid his mouth. Then suddenly, she turned, and thrust her body against his and heard him gasp as she dug her nails into his neck, and kissed him with biting, twisting lips.
He slid his hands around, and cupped her jutting buttocks and squeezed hard as he rammed his body sharply against hers, and kissed her desperately. Then his tongue lashed the inside of her mouth, and she nibbled his tongue-tip, he slid his hands down the inside of her skirt, and fondled her panty-clad buttocks, as his breath poured hot against her cheek.
They continued the kiss until he was gasping for breath, and rocking back and forth against her body, and cupping her buttocks tightly through the panties.
Finally, he tore his lips from her mouth, and she saw that his face was scarlet, and that sweat stood in droplets on his forehead. He pulled his hands from her buttocks, and stepped back and wiped sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
"Baby, you can kiss," he said.
"Then why did you stop?" she asked, in her hurt, little-girl voice.
"Hell, we're on a boat, and I'm only human, baby," he said. "Wait until we get to the island."
"Oh, yes, the island," she said, as she smoothed her skirt down. She saw that they were very near the island now, with lights burning distinctly, naked bulbs on black strings along the one pier.
"What a tacky-looking place," she said.
"Look, we better get down to the car," he said. "We'll be docking in a few minutes."
"Maybe we should just go right on back this time," she said, as she ran a finger around the top button of his shirt.
"But I thought you were excited about coming out here," he said.
"Oh, I was," she said. "But those places to dance look so silly, and well, what else is there to do?"
"We were going wading, and be alone, remember?" he asked, and she could tell that he was trying to check his pouring breath.
"I've lost some of my enthusiasm," she said. "But okay, just for a little while." She flicked the tip of his nose with her finger. "But please, Chuck, well, I don't know how to say it, but try not to get excited so quickly."
He looked at her, and started to speak, then licked his lips. "Sure, baby," he said, in a strange, nearly harsh tone she had never heard before.
They stood and looked at each other, neither speaking, until suddenly the ferry's engines were stilled, then reversed, and she looked up to see that the ferry was sliding along the pier.
The car hit the pier with a thud that jarred Jeannie to her teeth. She looked quickly at Chuck, as though he had done it on purpose. But she did not say anything, and neither did he.
He had to drive slowly down the long pier, his car bumping over the boards. But when he reached the narrow, black-top street in front of the bars and dance halls beneath the neon, he gunned the car around an old Ford, and roared around the whole line of cars.
Chuck drove rapidly along the narrow, curving road, and she laughed to herself as she thought of his obvious urgency to be alone with her, and how easily she had aroused him on the boat.
Suddenly, a tire blew and the car lurched onto the shoulder, and Jeannie was thrown against the dashboard. She caught herself with her hands, but the impact stunned her for an instant. And then she realized Chuck was fighting the steering wheel, trying to keep the lurching car on the narrow road.
The car finally rolled to a stop on the shoulder, and Chuck turned off the motor and sat back, and cursed under his heavy breath.
"We could have been killed," Jeannie said.
"You think I did it on purpose?" he snapped.
"I told you I didn't really want to come ashore," she said. "Now what happens?"
"Jeannie, please don't give me a hard time," Chuck said. "It's no major disaster. I'll simply change tires."
"Will it take long?" she asked. "I want to go wading-"
"Hell, the beach is on the other side of the car," he said. "Go wading while I change tires."
Jeannie glanced past him, to the pitch-black beach. "I'm not going out in the water and the dark by myself, Chuck," she said.
He slid from beneath the steering wheel and tried to put his arm on her shoulder, but she twisted away from him. "Fix the tire first," she said. "I'm not taking a chance on missing the ferry."
"Don't I get any encouragement, before I start work?" he asked.
She smiled. "All right, but just a moderate amount," she said.
Chuck put his arms around her, and pulled her to him, and she worked her breasts against his chest as he ground his lips into her mouth. She dug her nails into his neck, and shoved the kiss harder, and worked her tongue into his mouth.
And she let him kiss her for a full two minutes, and let him even cup a massive breast through the thin blouse. Then she shoved him away.
"You're fixing to see the fastest tire-changing in history," he said, and leaned over and opened her door.
They climbed out and walked around to the trunk. Jeannie was amused as Chuck got the spare tire and jack out and tried desperately to hurry the changing, but everything seemed to go wrong, and his clumsy haste only made things worse. And he was constantly stopping to kiss her, or try to grab a handful of breast, as she leaned against him, or propped herself against the car so that her willowy, lush body was displayed in a way that made him drop the jack handle several times.
He was panting from the work when he finally finished and they got back into the car. And he grabbed her with desperate awkwardness that surprised her.
"Really, Chuck," she said, with an edge on her voice.
His kiss was awkward, and when she returned the kiss, and used her lips and tongue and teeth in expert ways, he squirmed about on the seat, and his breath poured out.
She was alternately teasing and passionate, and the kissing grew wilder and wetter and hotter, and her little fingers pinched and rubbed and tickled his ears and neck, and his hands roamed her body, on top of her skirt and blouse, and he explored every mound and crevice.
The first time his trembling fingers tried to unbutton her blouse, she blocked him with a hand, but as he started to say something, she adjusted her legs, and let a hand rub over her warm thigh.
And just as the hand rubbed at the bottom panty-rim, she adjusted her thighs to block the hand. Then she kissed him fiercely again, and let him fumble her blouse open and out of skirt.
He skated his hand over the smooth, damp flesh to her bra snap. And his other hand tried desperately to get beneath the bikini-panties. But she could expertly twist and adjust her legs to give him the access to her thighs, yet completely control his hand and keep it from the panties.
He was gasping and groaning through a deep, tongue-filled kiss when he finally tore the bra loose, and he pulled from her mouth and stared with wide, glazed eyes as he ripped the flimsy bra off, and her lush, red-nippled breasts soared free.
While his hand worked desperately along the panty-rim and over the sweat-smooth thighs, his other hand cupped a massive breast, and his lips tore at her mouth. She worked her breast in his squeezing hand, and felt him pull and twirl the huge, red nipple.
Then he lowered his head and his mouth, licking between groans and gasps for breath, replaced his hand, Jeannie bent down and kissed his ear, then teased it with her darting, wet tongue.
His urgent excitement sent tingles over her back, and she had just told herself she would see what she could get him to do, to worship her body, and scrambled away from him.
"We'll miss the boat," she said, as he looked dumbly at her melon-large breasts and copper-bare thighs, and wheezed out a pained breath.
Then he glanced around, and shook his head, and wiped sweat from his crimson face. He looked back at her again, then slid over and started the car.
"We'll make the boat," he said. "We always have to stop, because of that damn curfew at school."
Jeannie very leisurely started dressing. "Yes, and just when things get interesting," she said.
"I promise you, next time I'll arrange so there will be no worry about time," he said, and wiped his face again.
"I hope so," she said, as she pulled her bra over the breasts. She smiled to herself and thought that he was certain she would go all the way.
And as she snapped the bra, and the speeding car jostled her about, she told herself she would go all the way, and in a way Chuck would never forget.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jeannie walked slowly down the main street of the small town which adjoined the university campus. Swallows dipped and soared in the faint purple of early dusk, and she walked slowly, browsing in store windows.
She turned from the window, and had started down the sidewalk again when someone called her. She turned and smiled as she saw Mark leaning from the window of his car.
"Taxi to the campus, Miss?" he asked.
"Hi, Mark," Jeannie said, as she stepped into the street, and walked over to the car. "I think a taxi would be nice. And I must get away from here before I rationalize buying a sweater which I can't afford, but absolutely must have."
"For resisting temptation, you deserve a drink," Mark said.
"Maybe a quick one," she said. "But where? You know the rule about faculty members and students. Though I'm not sure that applies to members of the same family."
"I know a place," Mark said. "Here, let me park."
Jeannie stepped back from the car, and Mark pulled into an empty space at the curb and climbed out. He looked especially handsome in a tweed jacket and the pipe just added a really cute touch to his handsome face that looked more like that of a football player than a professor of history.
"Where's the sweater?" Mark asked, as he came around the car.
"In the window here," Jeannie said, and led him across the sidewalk and pointed at the green sweater.
"It is lovely," Mark said. "So lovely, that you get a large drink for resisting temptation. But then, maybe you shouldn't have a large one. Or you might come right back and buy it."
"Once my virtue is rewarded, nothing will be able to drag me back to even look at the thing again," she said.
They laughed and walked slowly down the sidewalk, and Mark pointed out a new pipe in the window of a tobacco store, and told Jeannie, in a mock-confidential tone that he had to confess that he was trying to find some way to squeeze it into his budget without Edith's knowing it. But it was an imported briar, and damned expensive, he added.
"And Edith and I have had enough trouble about money lately," he said, as they turned a corner.
They passed a couple of nice cocktail lounges that were popular with students, and crossed a street, and walked a couple of blocks into a rapidly deteriorating part of town.
And then Mark stopped in front of the crummiest bar Jeannie had ever seen. The place was narrow, and the plate glass was deformed with deep cracks, and smeared with a layer of grease. A door hung from one hinge, and even on the sidewalk, Jeannie could smell the stale air.
"I can guarantee you no one from the campus ever comes here," Mark said. "Except me. But sometimes when things get, well, unpleasant with your sister, I have to have some place to drink and feel sorry for myself, and not be disturbed."
"I'm game," Jeannie said. Though she knew that it was only because she was with Mark, and sharing something he had kept from Edith. If some boy she dated had suggested such a place, she would have been disgusted.
Mark bowed, and extended his arm in an elaborate gesture, and Jeannie walked through the open door, and squinted her eyes in the dim, smoke-thick room.
Mark followed her in, and took her hand, and she stumbled over an uneven floor, and past a bar where a dozen men who needed shaves, and one woman with grey hair and brilliant, sickening-red lipstick, sat hunched over glasses of beer and shots of whiskey.
"Hey, there, Prof," a huge woman in a purple, flowered dress called from behind the bar.
Mark led Jeannie to a booth at the back corner of the place, and again extended his arm, and indicated for her to sit down. She sat down very tentatively, as though expecting she would have to get back up quickly.
Mark sank down beside her, as the fat woman waddled over from the bar, and stopped beside the booth.
"Well, what's it going to be, Prof?" the woman asked, in a husky, booming voice. "And who is this lovely thing? 'Bout time you forgot your troubles with your wife, and latched onto a looker like this."
"Jeannie, this is Mabel," Mark said. "Mabel, this is Jeannie."
Mabel smiled, a deep smile that creased deeply in her broad, wrinkled face, and extended a fat hand heavy with cheap, ornate rings. Jeannie shook hands, and looked a moment at the fat, smiling face, and the mop of peroxide hair.
"You have the usual, Prof?" Mabel asked, as she withdrew her hand. "Beer and a shot?"
"A double shot," Mark said.
"And how T)out you, Jeannie?" Mabel asked. "You a whiskey drinker?"
"Not like that, I'm afraid," she said. "Could you give me something else? Something like a martini?"
"Well, let's see," Mabel said. "I did mix a martini once. Think it was back in 1959. Honey, I'm afraid I ain't got the makings. But I could fix you something with gin or vodka, long as it ain't too fancy."
"Gin and tonic?" Jeannie asked.
"Make hers a double," Mark said. "It's a reward for being a good girl."
Mabel smiled deeply again. "Honey, doubles ain't no reward for being good. They just the excuse for being anything but good." She turned and moved back to the bar.
"How in the world did you start coming to a place like this?" Jeannie asked.
"Just like I told you," Mark said. "No one I know comes here, and I can be alone, and even tell my troubles to Mabel. And it's some change from faculty parties, and oh-so-nice cocktail lounges I go to with Edith."
"I strongly suspect Mabel has rather wild ideas about me," Jeannie said.
"Oh, there's no doubt about it," Mark said. "I'll tell her the truth when she comes back, if it upsets you."
"Oh, no, please don't," Jeannie said. "I think it's sort of fun. You know, sort of exciting, without being at all wicked, or anything like that. And I'm flattered that you've brought me to your special, secret place."
"Yes, I must be careful," Mark said. "Soon, you might know all my secrets. And I think perhaps I really should regard you as the enemy."
"Oh, no, Mark," Jeannie said, quickly, and put her hand on the sleeve of his jacket. "I'd never be your enemy."
Mabel brought the drinks, and Jeannie jerked her hand away. She sipped a lethally-strong gin and tonic, and watched Mark bolt down his whiskey and then gulp half glass of beer.
Mark ordered another drink, then turned to Jeannie, and she sipped her drink and felt tiny rivulets of cold shoot up her spine at the way he looked at her.
"It's only fair to tell you that Edith and I are having some trouble," he said. "Though I'm sure she must have talked to you."
"She has sort of," Jeannie said, uncertain how much she could tell Mark.
"Hell, Jeannie, she thinks I'm sleeping with everything on the campus," he blmted, with a bitterness that stunned her. "I'm sorry," he added, and shook his head. "I shouldn't have said that."
"I know she thinks that," Jeannie said, quickly. "She's tried and tried to get me to tell her you were having an affair with some coed."
"I'm sick of it, Jeannie," Mark said. "Sick of being accused of something I'm not doing."
He tmned and took the double shot and the glass of beer that Mabel had handed him. He drained the whiskey, and drank half the beer, then put the glasses on the table and looked back at Jeannie.
"No, I don't guess you could be the enemy," he said, and stared very intently at her. "Even though you're Edith's sister. Though you were just a child when we were married."
"Mark, please don't call me a child," Jeannie said, and thought of what Edith had said. "I could show you how much of a child I am."
She twisted in the seat, and her skirt was pulled above her knees, and Mark made no attempt to hide the way he looked hungrily at her golden thighs, or the breasts which seemed to tear through the thin material of the blouse.
Then he stared at her face, and nodded. "No, Jeannie, you're hardly a child," he said. "You're more of a woman in many ways than your older sister. It's spooky sometimes, really. You're so much alike physically except that yom body is so stacked and provocative."
"Why, thank you, sir," Jeannie said.
She leaned over and put her hand on his shoulder, and felt him tense. And he sat rigidly as she kissed his cheek. She pulled back, but sat so that her thigh was pressed tightly against his. And he made no effort to move.
He reached around and picked up the beer and drained the glass, without taking his eyes from her. Then he put the glass down, and grabbed her arm, and squeezed.
"Damn it, Jeannie, I love Edith, and want to save the marriage," he said. "But we have an impossible situation, and I don't know what to do."
"Can I help?" Jeannie asked, and put her open palm on Mark's cheek. "What's wrong?"
Mark sucked in his breath, and she felt him shift against her thigh. "Hell, I haven't been unfaithful, Jeannie," he said. "And believe me, I've had plenty of opportunities."
"I'm sure you have," Jeannie said, and toyed with the rim of his ear, and felt him squirm in his seat.
"But I have to admit, it's difficult being surrounded by incredibly beautiful provocative young girls all the time, and having them come on to me, and then go home to the same woman I've been with so long," he said, in a burst that ran the words together.
"I can see what you mean, Jeannie." She cocked her head, and smiled on the edge of her lips, and felt her heart pumping a bit now. Mark had never seemed so masculine and appealing, and she kept thinking of the way Edith had insulted her.
"It feels good to be able to talk to someone," Mark said. "And it gives me an uncanny feeling that you should so resemble Edith, yet be so damn, well, I don't know, so young and lovely."
Jeannie leaned over and kissed Mark's lips very softly and very quickly, then pulled away. "Why, thank you," she said. "I'll tell you something, Mark, as long as we're being good friends and sharing troubles. I've been having trouble with Edith myself. She seems nearly hysterical about you, and the last time I saw her, she was terrible, and did her best to really hurt me. And she's so much older, and being my sister and all, well, I just felt awful, Mark, and I don't know what to do."
"Poor Jeannie," Mark said, and she realized he might be a little tight from drinking that whiskey so fast.
Then Mabel was handing Mark another double shot, and a beer, and Jeannie sipped from her drink, and watched Mark pour down the whiskey and beer, and wondered what it would be like to park and pet with him, as she had last night with Chuck.
When Mark turned to her again, there was no doubt that the whiskey and beer had gotten to him. He leaned over, and kissed her cheek, then took her hand in his.
"Jeannie, I'm reasonably tight," he said. "But being with you here has been the most pleasant time I've had for longer than I care to remember. You're a beautiful girl, and each feature that I love about Edith, each physical aspect of her, you've got in spades. And you seem so understanding. I want to ask one favor, and then I'm going to run you off."
"Oh, Mark, don't make me leave," Jeannie said. "I'm really enjoying being here, and I do so want to help you, and your marriage, of course, in any way I can, and I feel we've both been somewhat abused and accused by Edith."
"When you hear the favor, you may want to run to the door," Mark said.
Jeannie's heart was racing now, and she moved her thigh against Mark, and put her hand on his neck, then rubbed around the rim of his ear.
"What do you want, Mark?" she asked.
"I want to kiss you," he said. "One kiss, and then you go."
"I would like that, Mark," she said. "I mean the kiss, not the leaving."
Mark leaned down, and pressed his lips over Jeannie's, and again her heart pumped, and then as Mark opened his mouth, and twisted the kiss harder, she dug her nails into his neck, and felt the throbbing at her temples.
And Mark shoved his tongue into her mouth, and put a hand on her thigh, over her skirt. She opened her mouth, and kissed him with a wild, wet movement and used her darting tongue in ways that had him gasping after a minute.
But his kiss was unlike any she had ever known and his lips and tongue excited her, and she responded by teasing his mouth with her tongue. And she felt his hand slide under her skirt, and trail up her thigh, and his other hand slid down and under her blouse and cupped a breast through the thin bra.
And she kissed him in the wickedest ways she knew, and her hands roamed his neck and hair and ears expertly, but his kiss was arousing, and his hands moved in strange, new ways on her thigh and breast.
Then, abruptly, he tore his mouth and hands away, and sat back, breathing deeply. "I won't apologize," he said. "Because I wanted to do that, Jeannie, I wanted to do it because you are the most exciting and the loveliest girl I think I've ever known. But I promise you, it won't happen again. And now, I'm going to get drunk, and probably a bit self-pitying, and even morbid. So please leave an old, unhappy scholar alone.
"Mark, really, I don't want to go," she said. "Believe me, I don't."
"I must insist that you leave," Mark said. "Be reasonable, Jeannie.
Jeannie looked at him, and remembered how he kissed, and she did not want to be at all reasonable. But she knew he was determined that she leave, and she told herself she would be making a terrible mistake if she did not go.
"All right, Mark," she said. "You know best."
He stood up, and she slid out of the booth. They stood looking at each other, and then Jeannie leaned up and kissed his lips, then his cheek, then his ear, and she whispered, "Edith's a fool," and flicked her wet tongue into the ear, then tmned and ran from the bar.
She hurried to the main street, and got a taxi, and as she relaxed and closed her eyes, she let herself have the luxury of fantasizing a petting session with Mark, and thought of the things that she could excite him to do to worship her body.
CHAPTER NINE
Jeannie turned the pages of the literature book, and tried to concentrate, but her mind kept wandering, and in a moment, she was thinking again of being with Mark yesterday.
She gazed about the library room without seeing anything, and remembered the feel of his lips, and the strange way his kiss excited her, and his hands on her body. And then running her off.
She stared at the floor-to-ceiling shelf of huge, leather-bound books, and drummed her pen on the table, and told herself it was best he ran her off, because otherwise, there was simply no telling what might have happened.
Jeannie was nibbling at the end of the pen, and looking again at the lit book, when Lama came over and sat opposite her at the table.
Jeannie looked up and saw that Laura was breathing heavily, as though she had been running, and her face was all flushed.
"You look like something chased you here," Jeannie said.
"I had to see you," Laura said. "Can you take a break? I hate to disturb yom studying, but this is important."
"Any disturbance is appreciated, believe me," Jeannie said. "Now, what on earth is wrong?"
Laura took a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her purse, and offered one to Jeannie. Jeannie hesitated, then took a cigarette and put it to her lips. Laura lit both cigarettes, Jeannie was amused at the quick, nervous puffs Laura took.
"Jeannie, Dr. Reed just called me," Laura said.
"Oh, yes?" Jeannie said, and took a deep drag, and felt a strange stab of uneasiness.
"And he wants me to go out with him," Laura said, and shifted nervously in her seat.
"Well, that's what you wanted, isn't it?" Jeannie asked. But she felt somehow betrayed, and did not at all understand why she should feel that way. She looked at Lama's pale, pretty face, and her stupidly nervous mannerisms and thought of being with Mark yesterday.
Laura was lighting another cigarette. "Yes, of course," she said. "I mean, it all seemed so dreamy and simple when it was only a fantasy. But now, it's real, and I'm not sure what to do."
"Oh, don't be silly," Jeannie said, sharply.
"I've just never been involved with a married man before," Laura said. "Tell me, has he said anything at all about me lately, Jeannie?"
Jeannie mashed her cigarette out, and shook her head. "Not a thing," she said. "Why get upset before you even know what's going to happen?"
"We're going to have dinner, and go dancing at some place over in the next county, where people from school never go," Laura said. "And Jeannie, I know what will happen if I go dancing and drinking and all with him."
"Honestly, Lama, sometimes you're as silly as a freshman," Jeannie said. "Mark's only a man. He may be handsome as can be, and older and more experienced, but you should be able to handle him."
"But I don't want to handle," Laura said. "I only feel guilty because he's married." Laura leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Otherwise, if I think he likes me as much as I like him, well, you know."
"I can't believe that a girl like you would really go all the way," Jeannie said. "Don't you have any pride or any self-control, Laura? You know, I hate to say this, but there's a word for girls like you."
Lama's cheeks reddened, and she took a long puff on the cigarette, then mashed it out in the cluttered ash tray. Again, she leaned close to Jeannie.
"I only feel bad, because he's married," Jeannie said. "I do not feel bad if I go all the way with someone I love. It's just that simple, and no label or tag-name is going to change things. I think the worst thing a girl can do is to pet and tease and get a boy worked up, and make him suffer. I disagree with the idea that anything on earth is proper as long as you don't actually make love. I think that's sick, Jeannie."
"Sick?" Jeannie asked. "You sit there talking like some little prostitute, and tell me that what most girls in the house do with boys is sick? Why, Lama Williams, I don't believe what you're saying. I think this whole situation with Mark has made you a little crazy."
"What do you do when you park and pet heavily, Jeannie?" Laura asked. "What do you think, when you control yourself, and your date is excited beyond his endurance, and is panting and maybe begging you not to leave him that way? What are you thinking, Jeannie? And what kind of a woman do you think you are? And do you really think you'll change when you fall in love and get married? Change, overnight? And if not, what kind of a marriage will you have, Jeannie?"
"I won't sit here and listen to another word, Laura," Jeannie said. She felt her face was red now too, and she swallowed, and her heart was pounding, and she stared into Laura's dark eyes, and then looked away. But she did not know what to say.
"Funny how two people can be the best of friends, like us, and still disagree so violently on such an important thing as this," Laura said. "You think I'm a prostitute, and I think you're a selfish, spoiled child, when it comes to sex."
"Dammit, don't call me childish," Jeannie snapped. She felt cheeks burning and she caught her lower hp in her teeth.
"I'm sorry, Jeannie," Laura said. "We better break this off, before we say things to each other that cut too deeply. And I've got to run, and get ready."
"So you're going out with Mark?" Jeannie asked, and was startled when she realized her words were trembling.
"Of course," Lama said, as she stood up. "I feel terrible about it, but I think I'm in love with him, and I'm going out with him."
"Well, good luck," Jeannie said, and scorn -edged her words.
Laura smiled sweetly and walked from the room, with short, quick steps. Jeannie closed her lit book, and put the pen into her pmse, and stood up. She was furious at Laura, just fmious enough to scream, she told herself as she walked rapidly out of the room.
Her heart pumped and her cheeks blazed and she swallowed, and started running. Damn Laura, for saying those terrible things, and calling her a child. She would somehow make Lama pay for being nasty, and she'd make Edith pay, too.
She ran out the door, and down the steps, then stopped and her breath pomed out. She took a couple of steps toward the house, then stopped, and caught her breath again, and looked around.
She glanced up at the clock on the tower of the administration building. It was only seven, and she just felt wretched, and she kept remembering those questions Laura had asked her, about petting, and what she thought.
She pivoted abruptly and half ran down the walk to the Student Union building, and into the grill. She paused and tried to check her heavy breathing, and wondered if her cheeks were still red.
Then she saw Chuck sitting alone in a booth at the far corner. She walked slowly, as though she did not see him, but went close to his booth, and started to sit at the counter.
"Come on over and join me," he said, and stood up.
"It's stifling in here," she said.
"Yeh, hottest day of the year so far," he said. "What say we get out of here? Put the top down on the car go somewhere cool."
"That sounds great," she said.
As they left the grill, Jeannie took Chuck's hand, and he squeezed slightly, and he glanced down with a look of overt satisfaction. But Jeannie smiled to herself, and thought of Lama's nasty words, and told herself she was going to enjoy petting with Chuck, and while they petted, she would answer all of Laura's questions.
As they paralleled the lake the rushing wind cooled Jeannie's sweating face so that she felt much better. She thought how cool and pleasant it would be to go wading. And she glanced at the way Chuck leaned forward, his hands rigid on the steering wheel, as he desperately pushed his car along, anxious for another session with her body.
Chuck turned from the road without slowing, and the car lurched onto the beach, then plowed through the hard-packed sand. Chuck drove beside the lake for a quarter mile, as the lake twisted away from the road, then stopped behind a clump of thick-leafed bushes and cut off the lights and motor.
His breathing was heavy as he slid from the steering wheel, and put his arm around Jeannie's shoulder, and kissed her ear with clumsy lips.
"Jeannie, you're so lovely," he muttered, and nibbled the ear, as his hand slid down to grasp a breast through the thin, sweat-damp blouse. "Jeannie, I want you so much, more than I've ever wanted any girl."
She turned and took his sweating face in her hands, and kissed his lips in a wicked, biting kiss that made him gasp and twist her breast. She let him unbutton a couple of buttons on her blouse and thrust a shaking hand over a bra-covered breast, and cup and squeeze, and her tongue went berserk in his mouth.
She bit his tongue-tip, bit it so hard, he gasped. Then she pressed her lips into his mouth, and dug her nails into his back, and heard him groaning. His other hand moved tentatively up her leg, and over her knee, and then slid over her silky-smooth thigh, and tickled at the bottom rim of her panties.
And she kissed him savagely, and shoved her breast hard against his hand, and raked down his back with sharp nails. And she heard him groan and gasp and his trembling fingers tried to poke beneath the tiny, white panties.
Then she skillfully twisted her thighs to block his hand, and bit his lip, then roughly shoved him from her body, and opened the car door, and scrambled out.
He sat wheezing out pained breath, his face scarlet, and she smiled on the edges of her full lips, and took her blouse off and threw it into the back seat.
"You promised we could go wading," she said. "But I have a better idea. Swimming would be a lot more fun, and would cool us off more. And Chuck, darling, you do need cooling off."
He stumbled from the car and stood gazing at the huge mounds which nearly spilled from the thin, white-lace bra.
"Sure, let's go swimming," he muttered, and took his shirt off.
"I'll wear my bra and panties," she said. "It will be the same thing as a bikini, really. And you wear your shorts."
"Sure," he said, and started getting out of his clothes.
Jeannie unzipped her tight skirt, and took it off and walked over and dropped it into the car. Chuck made a grab for her, but she ducked away and kicked her shoes off, and stepped back.
He licked his lips and brushed sweat from his face and stared at her incredible, copper-toned body displayed in tiny, white bra, and frilly, white bikini-panties.
She cocked her head and smiled deeply, then turned and ran through the sand to the water. Small waves washed over her feet, and she shivered just a bit.
"Oh, the water's a little chilly," she called over her shoulder.
But she took a couple of tentative steps into the lake, and stopped and looked over her shoulder. Chuck, wearing only his shorts, was running through the sand.
Jeannie laughed and plunged into the lake, and her body slowly adjusted to the water. When the water was at the bottom of her panties, she stopped, and looked back and saw Chuck trying to run and nearly falling.
She sank down into the water a bit, then kicked into the sand and started swimming, careful to keep her hair out of the water. But the waves were a little high now, and she stopped swimming before her hair got wet.
She was up to her shoulders in water when Chuck reached her. He put his hands down on her waist and pulled her to him, and smothered her lips in an awkward kiss. She shoved her body against his, and heard him groan. His hands slid around and down beneath the little panties to fondle her buttocks.
Then she peeled his hands from her body, and started running back to the beach. He watched her for a moment, then followed her, and as she reached the sand, she stopped, and so did he.
And she realized he was staring at the way the wet bra and panties clung to her body like wet Kleenex. She smiled and ran up to the car and sank down into the seat, breathing deeply.
He reached the car a few seconds later, and sat down beside her and his hands were all over her body, every hill and valley. She let him tear the flimsy, wet bra from her breasts and bite and lick at the gigantic breasts, and huge, red nipples, and she tongue-lashed his ear. But she shifted her thighs to keep his hands from her panties.
Then she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled her face up and kissed his lips with as arousing and savage a kiss as she knew, and his hands pumped and squeezed her lush breasts.
After fifteen minutes, he was wheezing out breath and moaning and begging her to make love to him. But she shoved him from her body, and smiled mockingly on the edges of her mouth.
And as he whined and begged and flattered, she told herself Laura was wrong. Because she felt wonderful now. And girls like her, lovely and perfect, should be worshipped, have their bodies worshipped and pleased by men like Chuck. By all men.
And then Chuck was kissing her, and muttering that he would do anything to get her excited. Anything if she would make love to him.
Then he mumbled, "I adore your body, I worship it, Jeannie."
And he lowered his head and licked a taut, red nipple, then kissed down to her stomach. Down to the top rim of her panties.
And a little tingle shot up Jeannie's spine, a strange tingle over her sweating body, as Chuck kissed her again, and she shifted her legs and realized the delicious way he was going to worship her body....
CHAPTER TEN
Jeannie was sipping a cup of instant coffee and reading a magazine in her room when she heard the phone start ringing again. And in a minute, Peggy stuck her head in the door.
"It's Chuck again," she said. "What will I tell him this time?"
Jeannie shrugged. "Just say I'm not here," she said. "I told him not to call again, and I simply won't talk to him."
"All right, I'll tell him you won't be back for horns," Peggy said, and walked back into the hall.
Poor Chuck, Jeannie said to herself, and finished the coffee and set the cup down. She stretched and yawned, then climbed from the bed, and walked over to the window. Chuck simply could not understand that she did not want to see him again.
Though the last couple of petting sessions had been just fantastic, and he had really worshipped her body in ways she dug, and she had let him know how childish he was not to be able to control himself, he simply wasn't a challenge and wasn't fun any longer.
Jeannie pulled the lace curtain aside, and stared out at the long shadows that fell across the front lawn of the sorority house. She just started to turn back into the room when she saw Laura hurry out of the house, and the first thing she thought was that Laura was seeing Mark again. And Jeannie remembered this was the night Edith was away late playing bridge with other faculty wives.
And Jeannie knew Laura had seen Mark nearly every night for a week. Then she saw Laura stop at the curb, and she was surprised to see Paul drive up, and Laura get into his car.
Jeannie watched them drive off, then turned from the window and nibbled at her lower lip. Why, she did not even know that Laura was still seeing Paul. In fact, Laura had been quite silent about everything, and just wouldn't talk at all about Mark.
Jeannie thought back to that afternoon in the bar" with Mark, and the way he came on to her, then ran her off. And she remembered both Laura and Edith had been nasty and called her a child.
She crossed the room, and paused with her hand on the bathroom door. She wondered if Mark was home alone, and she thought of calling the house, pretending she wanted to talk with Edith. Then she smiled and turned and walked over to the dresser.
She stared at the smiling, lovely face in the mirror, then dabbed on some lipstick and combed her hair, and told herself she would just go innocently over, and if Mark was there, it would be fun to see what happened.
She just knew Laura was going all the way with Mark, though she had not admitted it, and as she turned from the dresser and crossed the room to the hall door, she told herself that if Mark was not her brother-in-law, she could get him and keep him interested with little or no effort, and in ways that maintained her self-respect and dignity.
Her heart was beating now as she hurried down the hall, and she took the steps two at a time, and scrawled her name in the book by the door, and felt like skipping down the twisting walk to the sidewalk.
She turned the corner, and pulled off the little berries, and idly tossed them at the buds on the limbs of oleander bushes. Her heart beat faster now, and she asked herself if she should have put on something more provocative.
As she turned the last corner, she told herself she would just perish on the very spot if Mark was not there, or if he had company, or worse still, if Edith was not playing bridge.
Then she saw that Mark's car was in the garage, and there was a light on in the living room, and she felt like running the few yards to the house. But she forced herself to walk slowly, even demurely, in case someone was watching.
She stepped onto the small porch, and pushed the bell a couple of times, and waited. There was no answer, and she rang again, then knocked several times. There was still no answer.
Her heart sank, and she pushed a final time, then turned to leave. And she heard the door open behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, and saw Mark standing in the door, a drink in his hand.
"Did I disturb you?" she asked, as she pivoted and walked to the door. And she saw that he had obviously been drinking a long time, and that his eyes were blood-shot and that he needed a shave.
"No, I was just drinking back in the kitchen, and it took me a while to get here," he said. "Come on in. Glad you're here. Though I'm not certain what kind of company I'll be."
Jeannie walked past him, into the hall. "I'm sure you'll be the usual sterling company you always are," she said. "But where's Edith?"
"Playing bridge with the girls, thank God," he said, and slammed the door and followed Jeannie down the hall to the living room.
"Well, perhaps I shouldn't stay," she said.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said, and walked over to the small, portable bar. "What are you drinking?"
"Scotch, with a little water," she said.
He mixed the drink, and Jeannie pretended to be looking at the books stacked on a table, but from the corner of her eyes she saw the way he was staring at her body, so she shifted her weight to one leg, which drew her tight skirt tautly over her hips and buttocks.
"How are things going?" she asked, as she took the drink from him. She was pleased that he let his fingers linger on her hand a moment.
"Hell, things are going to pieces, Jeannie," he said.
"I'm sorry," Jeannie said, and sipped her Scotch. "Isn't there anything I can do to help? I can't stand seeing you this way, Mark. Or to think of you and Edith breaking up."
Mark stepped to her, and put his hand on her waist, and stared down into her face. "Thanks, but I'm afraid there's nothing at all you can do," he said. "Except stay the lovely, desirable, understanding girl you are."
"That's a sweet thing for you to say, Mark," she said, and she leaned up and kissed his lips softly, and felt his hand tighten on her waist.
She pulled from his lips and as he moved to kiss her, she drank from the glass a long drink of the Scotch, and then she stepped back.
"I'm glad you came over," he said, and drained the Scotch, and Jeannie saw that he was a little unsteady on his feet as he mixed another drink. "Since I last saw you, well, I've done a very stupid thing. I've gotten involved with a girl from the campus. Though you perhaps already know about it."
"Oh, Mark, I haven't heard a thing," she said, in her mock innocent voice.
"Well, I need to talk to someone about it," he said. "And I can tell you it won't last. I'd be throwing away my career, as well as my marriage."
"Oh, Mark, do talk to me," Jeannie said, and moved to him again. She set her drink down, and cupped his face with her hands, and the bristles of his beard were sharp, yet excited her a bit.
Mark enclosed her hands with his, and bent down, and kissed her cheek, then the tip of her nose. "I need someone to understand, and listen, and everything," he said. "And I would like very much to give the most desirable and most understanding girl on the campus a kiss."
Jeannie snuggled against Mark, and felt him tense as her breasts brushed his cheek. "I would like that, Mark," she said. "But only on the condition that you don't run me off."
"Not a chance," he mumbled, and then his lips were soft and moving on her lips, and then he kissed her fiercely, and ground the lips hard, and his tongue shot into her mouth, and was knowing and wild.
And his hands moved down to cup her buttocks and squeeze and pump, and she shoved her body hard against his and heard his labored breathing. And she tingled with excitement as she thought all this was happening with Edith's husband and right here in Edith's very own house.
Jeannie twisted the kiss and tongued his mouth, and then she felt his-hands sliding under her tight skirt. She smiled to herself as she realized how urgently he wanted and needed her.
She felt just incredibly excited, and deliciously wicked, and then she broke the kiss, and pulled away and saw his glassy eyes and the heavy way he was breathing.
"The skirt is a bit too tight for that sort of thing, so we'll have to do something about it," she said. And she quickly unzipped the skirt, and peeled it off, and stood in her tiny panties, and smiled on the edges of her lips at the way his look devoured her.
He grabbed her and cupped her jutting buttocks, sliding his hands beneath the panties to rub and pinch and tickle the exquisite buttocks. And he kissed her desperately, and started sliding his hand around her thighs, and she had just blocked his urgent, trembling fingers, and was fantasizing the delicious ways he would worship her body, when the phone rang.
They both froze, then he jerked his hands from her body, and stepped back. His breath came in rushes, and his face dripped sweat and his cheeks were red. The phone rang again, and then he turned and ran to the hall.
The ringing cut into Jeannie, and pulled her to reality, and she realized she was standing here in her panties. She scooped her skirt up, and put it on and zipped it. Then she took her comb out and fixed her hair in the mirror, and rubbed lipstick on.
She was standing demmely with her feet together, and sipping her Scotch, when Mark hurried back into the room.
"Edith just left the bridge game, and is headed back here," he said. "Luckily, one of the woman she plays bridge with is on my side. So you're going to have to run. And I do mean run."
"Yes, I guess I better," she said, and finished her drink.
Mark came to her, and put his hand on her cheek. "But I must see you, Jeannie," he said. "As soon as possible. I've got to talk to you, about this stupid affair. And more than that, I've got to be with you."
"I won't be free before tomorrow night," she said, and smiled.
"We'll have to be careful about getting together, at this point," he said. "Look, I can't think straight now. But I'll call you at the house tomorrow and we can set up a time and a place."
"All right, Mark," she said, and she kissed his lips, then turned and ran down the hall, and out into a light mist of rain.
By the time she reached the house, it was raining so hard, she nearly was floating. But she shook the rain from her hair and stomped on the mat, then signed in and ran up the stairs.
And as she hurried down the hall, dripping water, she noticed Laura's door was open, and she stopped. Then she leaned in, and saw Laura standing by the window, watching the rain.
Jeannie knocked softly, then walked into the room. Laura turned from the window.
"My Lord, get out of those wet things," Laura said. "I watched you getting soaked as you came down the sidewalk."
"I will, but I just wanted to say hello," Jeannie said, and shivered at the feel of the wet bra and panties against her skin.
"You seemed to be coming from the general direction of the Reed house," Lama said.
"Correct," Jeannie said. "But he didn't mention you, though he implied he was involved with some
"Some girl," Laura said. "Some girl, indeed. To get caught between two men, both of whom she thought she loved at once, and both of whom she is making love to, and neither of which she wants to hurt, and either of which could hurt her."
"So you are going all the way with Mark," Jeannie said.
"I made love twice to Mark," Laura said. "And you're calling him Mark now," Jeannie said.
"Well, Jeannie, you don't normally call a man you're making love to, doctor," Lama said, with a touch of sarcasm.
"And you think going all the way will keep Mark interested?" Jeannie asked. And she remembered how interested Mark had been just by kissing and squeezing, and she told herself she could interest him far more than Lama could, by doing far less. And she just shivered, with more excitement than dampness, as she thought of the wicked and lovely times she would have with Mark.
"Jeannie, let's not get into our standard, somewhat hackneyed discussion about men and sex," Lama said.
"No, let's not," Jeannie said, and she decided when she had Mark eating out of her hand, she would make him tell her all kinds of intimate little things about Laura and sex.
There was a breeze now, and Jeannie shivered and felt the wet, cold clothes matted to her body. The body Mark so obviously wanted and would do absolutely anything for, she told herself.
Then she saw that Lama was staring at her in a funny way, and she shivered, and bit her lip.
"Well, I'll run," she said. "Before I catch my death of cold."
"Good-night," Lama said. "See you at breakfast."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jeannie walked down the deserted street, glancing over her shoulder and squinting to see in the dim light that filtered from the moon and down through the thick-topped pine trees.
She was just the least bit scared, and she looked around at the houses set far back from the sidewalk, behind hedges and huge flowering bushes. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, and she huddled her arms against herself, and walked very slowly.
She was scared, but not nearly enough to overcome the excitement that rippled through her body as she moved along, waiting to meet Mark. She told herself it was like a movie, the secret rendezvous and everything. And it would probably be the most exciting night she had ever spent.
Now, tonight, they would be alone, and there would be nothing to interrupt what happened between them. She had just the faintest hint of a guilty feeling, but she shrugged and told herself she was being foolish.
Then she heard a car and she scurried against the nearest bush, and waited. The car was moving slowly, and when it was opposite her, she saw it was Mark's car, and she ran out.
He stopped, and she climbed in, and he drove off quickly.
"Have any trouble getting here?" he asked, as he turned a corner.
"None," she said. "It was a little spooky, but terribly exciting. Just like a spy movie."
"I hated to sound dramatic over the phone, and have to suggest such an arrangement, but under the circumstances, it's absolutely necessary," he said.
Jeannie slid across the seat, and kissed his cheek softly. "A perfect way to start off an evening," she said. "And what else exciting have you planned?"
"Well, we must go somewhere where we won't be seen," he said. "And I have the perfect spot."
"It sounds wonderful and mysterious," she said. "Tell me."
"There's nothing either wonderful or mysterious about it, I'm afraid," he said. "But we can relax there, and we won't be disturbed. It's out at my fishing cabin. I haven't used it in months, but it's warm enough tonight."
"Oh," Jeannie said, and her heart sank. She had thought they would go to some super place for dinner and dancing and drinks, all very expensive and romantic. Like the place Mark took Laura.
"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming, I can tell," he said. "But you see, I discovered that I was seen recently with another young lady, and my contract is up for renewal next month, and I simply can't take a chance on being seen again."
"I understand," she said, and glanced down at the beautiful black sheath that did so much for her figure, and the lovely strand of pearls that added a perfect touch at her throat.
"The back seat is loaded with whiskey, and all kinds of things to eat," he said. "And even candles, because there's no electricity. We can create our own elegance."
"That sounds like fun," she said, and finally she thought it might turn out to be better than some restaurant, and it would give them more time together alone.
The car bumped onto an old bridge, and the tires hummed over the rough boards, and then they were off the bridge, and in a tunnel formed by trees growing over the road from both sides.
The swamps grew to the edge of the road, and there were cricket sounds and frogs croaking, and things splashing in water Jeannie could not see in the eerie, pitch-black that surrounded them.
Mark drove rapidly along the twisting road, and the points of light from the headlights seemed strange in the throbbing, black world they were passing through. Jeannie snuggled against Mark, and put her hand on his arm.
And she felt him squirm a bit at the touch of her thigh against his, and she smiled to herself. This would be a great night, after all, she told herself. She glanced out at the black walls of growth on each side, and shivered, and told herself it was fun being kind of scared, when she knew nothing would happen to her.
Mark turned from the road, and onto the trail so narrow that limbs of low-slung water oaks swiped at the creeping car, and they bumped over holes and shallow bogs of stagnant, green-slimed water.
Then Mark stopped and when he cut off the motor, they were plunged into darkness and Jeannie squeezed Mark's arm, and nibbled her lip, and shivered. He leaned over and flicked on the dashboard light, and took a flashlight from the glove compartment.
Then as he brushed past her body, he looked down into her face, and down to the exotic body displayed in the tight black dress.
"You look lovely," he said. "Dressed fit to kill, and I've brought you out to this swamp."
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You said we would create our own elegance," she said. "I just hope nothing happens to the dress."
"That might be a problem," he said. "Tell you what. I've got some old jeans, and a shirt in the trunk. Why not slip into them before we start out to the cabin. There's even a pair of old boots, I think."
"That's good," Jeannie said.
Mark patted her arm, then got out and walked around to the trunk. Jeannie sat and stared at the surrounding black, and listened to the frogs and crickets.
Mark was back in half a minute, and he handed her a plaid shirt and a pair of faded jeans, and the boots. She held them up, and laughed.
"They'll swallow me," she said. "I'm afraid I won't look very elegant."
Mark laughed. "Jeannie, you'd look elegant in anything, believe me," he said.
"Why, thank you, sir," she said. "Now, if you'll please leave my dressing room for a moment, I'll be ready to accompany you through the swamp."
Mark laughed again and turned off the flashlight, and stepped out of the car. He walked a few feet, and stood with his back to the car. Jeannie started to turn the dashboard light off, but she paused, then pulled her hand from the switch.
She unbuttoned her dress and told herself she was not going to sit here in the absolute pitch black, and besides, she would not mind at all if Mark sneaked a look. Though she could not conceive that he would do such a thing.
She very carefully worked the dress off, and folded it, and put it on the seat. She got out of her slip, and un-snapped her stockings from the garter belt, and slowly moved them off her thigh;;, and down over her sleek legs.
She put the stockings beside the dress and slip, and removed the garter-belt. Then she sat a moment, in frilly white panties and bra and high-heel, black shoes, and looked at Mark, then out at the dark swamp, and she shivered and closed her arms across her chest.
Then she shivered excitingly and took her shoes off, and stretched her body, then relaxed. She picked up the shirt, and put it on. It hung on her like a tent, and she shook her head and laughed. She rolled the sleeves up, and buttoned the shirt. And then she had a terribly wicked and exciting idea.
She shoved the jeans aside, and pulled on the boots. Her feet were literally lost in the boots, and she climbed from the car, and awkwardly padded over to Mark, her feet sliding with each unsteady step.
"How do I look?" she asked.
He turned and flicked the flash-light on, and stared with open mouth at the way the shirt fell to her thighs, and exposed the soft, brown thighs and legs.
"Perfect," he said, and he stepped to her.
She stood on her toes as he put his hands on her waist. His kiss was soft, but he squeezed her waist, and she shoved the kiss harder, and then his hands slid around to cup her buttocks.
And she twisted her lips and used her tongue in his mouth, and there was no doubt the kiss was exciting him.
But he was kissing her in a way she had never known, using his lips and tongue and teeth in maddening ways, and his hands moved in fantastic motions around her buttocks, and she felt the strangest and most exciting tingle over her spine.
And Jeannie was the one who broke the kiss, and she tugged his maddening hands from her buttocks, and stepped back.
"We better get up to the cabin," she said, and felt foolish. "I'm famished, and I'm afraid I have a thirst."
"Well take care of your hunger and thirst right away," he said, in a slightly mocking tone.
They went back to the car and took the two, large bags of whiskey and food, and walked slowly along a narrow path, which was lit by the flashlight.
Jeannie held Mark's arm and walked slowly, and felt thorn-vines slapping at her legs, and once she was cut and groaned. Then they came to a narrow wooden bridge, and when they crossed the bridge, Jeannie saw the outline of the cabin, and saw moonlight diffused on a bayou covered with flat, green lily-leaves and filled with slim-lined logs.
The cut on her leg throbbed faint, warm pain as Mark shoved the door open, and swung the flashlight in a wide arc that revealed a one-room cabin of rough, but painted boards, an old stove, a bed, some chairs, and a cabinet. He led Jeannie inside and took out a box of long, tapered candles and lit one, then switched off the flashlight.
The candle-flame soared up, bathing the room in soft shadows, and shadowing Mark's handsome face in ways that accentuated his blue eyes and the cleft in his chin.
Mark fixed the candle in an empty whiskey bottle, and lit another candle and put it into an old wine bottle he found in one corner. As he unpacked, Jeannie walked over to a candle, and examined the thorn-cut in the wavering, wind-whipped light. There was a delicate line of little cuts and even a few drops of blood, but it did not seem too bad, and though it still throbbed a bit, she decided not to mention it to Mark.
She walked over and put her hand on his arm, and then she saw that he was taking cans of smoked oysters and tins of caviar and other delicacies from a bag, and she squealed with delight and pecked him on the cheek.
There was also a bottle of gin and a bottle of scotch and a bottle of vermouth, as well as a fancy bottle of liqueur, and a basket-covered container of red wine.
Jeannie fixed the delicacies on paper plates, while Mark mixed martinis in paper cups, between kisses on the lips and ear, and an occasional affectionate pat on the buttocks.
She drank her first martini quickly, because she was thirsty, and she could tell that the drink got to her right away. But she felt so good, she let him mix another, though she forced herself to sip this one slowly while she finished fixing the food.
They sat on the floor by the open door, and ate the small bits of delicate food and cup after cup of wine, as the candlelight jumped about, shadowing them on three sides. And they fed each other oysters and pickled sausages and bits of shrimp and lobster, and kissed, and looked at the swamp-night, filled with fireflies and strange, glowing things far across a dead-still bayou.
When they finished eating, Jeannie was full and mellow and happy, and she kissed Mark's ear, then his lips, and knew she was also dangerously tight. But she felt so great, she told herself it did not matter. And she kept thinking of what was coming, of how perfect it would be to pet with Mark, and have him want her beyond anything else, and beg her to love him.
And as they lay back, and he rammed his tongue between her lips, she told herself she did not want him to talk of Lama, to even mention Lama, because after he finished petting with her, here in the incredibly romantic, candle-washed room, he would never want to have any other woman.
The kiss was wild, and Mark fondled her body, and then, strangely, he got up, and poured glasses of liqueur, and they drank the sweet, strong liqueur, and licked it from each other's lips, which Jeannie found terribly exciting.
They sat against the wall, and drank and kissed, and Mark unbuttoned her blouse, and took the bra off, and as the breasts spilled free, he leaned down and kissed and licked them, and his expert tongue caused the red nipples to swell, and then his nuzzling teeth drove Jeannie wild.
And when his hand took the place of his mouth on the rock-tipped nipples, and he moved to kiss Jeannie's lips with expert, surging ways, she tried to control the petting as she always did, but somehow, she felt both lulled and aroused, and his tongue worked in fantastic rhythm in her mouth.
And his fingers squeezed, and hurt, and tickled and tantalized her breasts and nipples, and she felt herself sucking in breath and felt warm all over. When Mark's hands slid up the inside of her thigh, a shiver shot over her body, and she tensed an instant.
They petted for a long time, and she twisted her thighs as always to block his hand, and his fingers trailed fight and arousing, then pinching and rough, then teasing on her thighs and around to her buttocks.
At some point, they lay on the floor, and Mark was close to her, and the candle-flames fluttered in a thin breeze and she kissed Mark and lacerated his back with her nails and shifted and gyrated beneath his expert hands.
She knew that he was taking her panties off, and she tried to stop him, but he was strong and determined and she felt drugged and lay back again, and waves of pin-point excitement coursed through her feverish body.
She did not even remember when he took his clothes off. It was as though all this was happening in a hazy, shadowy dream, and she rocked her body back and forth and kissed and rubbed and groaned.
And it was only when he suddenly moved to her thighs and a wave of pain ignited a wave of panic that she was jerked from the trance.
She beat him with her little fists, and tried to fight him, but the excitement weakened her. And she cursed him, and bit his shoulder, and grunted, and raked her nails down his back.
And then a new sensation rippled over her sweat-dripped, pulsating body, and she groaned, and babbled, "Don't stop, never stop, please." And she soared to a peak of excitement she had never known.
Jeannie lay in her bed in the sorority house, doubled up against herself, and cried softly. Her body still ached, yet that terrible excitement still tingled up her back, and she cursed Mark again and again, and sniffled and told herself she would make him pay dearly for what he had done to her.
She tried to block the memory of that time on the floor of the cabin, but her mind kept racing over every detail. He had gotten her drunk, and drugged, with martinis and wine and Scotch and liqueur, she chanted to herself.
And she remembered how she had felt when he was finished with her, and she came back to reality. She thought of the way she had screamed, and kicked, and clawed at his face.
And of that awful ride to town, as she sat huddled in the corner of the car, hurting and crying, and hurling abuse and threats at him. And how he had tried to talk sweetly to her, then had become silent.
And she remembered jumping from the car when they got to town and taking a taxi back to school, and locking herself in the bathroom and crying and crying.
She turned over on her side, and hurled silent abuse at Mark now, and thought of telling Edith and her parents, and then she told herself she would go out with him again, when she was sober, and get him so hot, he would whine and beg and whimper and pay for what he did and the way he hurt her.
She closed her eyes and sniffled and clamped her lips together. And she repeated the string of venom against Mark, and thought how she had trusted him and he had been terribly wicked and evil and depraved with her.
Her eyes grew heavy with sleep now, and she sniffled again, and slowly dropped to sleep, but in the last moments of consciousness, her thoughts were of the ways her body had come alive and tingled and gone berserk at the touch of each part of Mark....
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jeannie slept until nearly noon the next day, and it took her an hour to drag herself from bed and get washed and dressed. She felt awful, and somehow when she looked in the mirror, she did not seem as pretty to herself, as though Mark had done that terrible thing last night in a way that would forever sear her.
And she sat around downstairs, drinking coffee and waiting for him to call. She told herself that since he had possessed her incredible body, no other woman would ever satisfy him. And when he begged her to go out with him again, it would be simple to pet as she usually did, and work him into a frenzy and have her revenge.
But the afternoon dragged on and by four he had not called, and she was finishing her fifth cup of coffee. She got up from the table and walked with weary steps down the hall, and told herself the only reason he had not called was that he was frightened because of what he had done.
She left the house, and walked very slowly to his office, trying to quiet the rage she felt building inside her as she thought of seeing him again.
She nodded to students but did not even speak, and hurried along, feeling strangely as though something about her showed what had happened last night.
The main part of the campus was deserted in the late afternoon, and Jeannie wondered if Mark would even be in his office. But she told herself she had to take a chance, because she did not want to go out to his house.
She walked up the steps of the Liberal Arts Building, and her heart pounded now and the blood throbbed at her temples, and she felt weak and her cheeks reddened with anger.
She paused with her hand on the door to his office, and with the anger, she felt a little rush of excitement, and she cursed herself. Then she knocked.
She heard him getting up from the desk and coming over, and then the door was opened, and she stared up into the blue eyes, and saw the place on his cheek where she had scratched him.
Something choked in her throat and she had the impulse to hit him, and scream at him, and then again she felt the excitement, and she looked away from the eyes.
"Come on in," he said, and stepped back. "I was going to call you."
"I'm sure you were," she said, in a thin even voice.
She crossed the small, book-clustered office on rubbery legs, and sat down in the straight-back chair beside his huge, wooden desk. He followed her, and sank wearily into his leather, swivel-chair, and turned to face her.
"I hate you," she blurted. "I loathe, you. Do you know what you did to me?" She leaned closer, and now her voice was rising. "You got me drunk and you're terrible, you're so much older, and I trusted you.
"Calm down, Jeannie," Mark said, and he leaned over and put his hand on her arm.
But she jerked away. "Don't touch me," she hissed.
"Jeannie, I'm truly sorry about what happened," Mark said. "I made a mistake, a terrible one, and a bad miscalculation. I've made a lot of mistakes lately, and this thing with you was the worst one."
"It's a mistake you'll never forget, I promise you that," Jeannie said. "No one has ever abused me the way you did."
"Look, let's get things straight, Jeannie," Mark said, and Jeannie did not at all like the tone of his voice.
She shifted about on the uncomfortable, wooden chair and saw that her skirt rode high on her golden thighs, and she glanced at Mark, but he was not even looking at the thighs.
"What is there to get straight?" she asked.
"My mistake involved being unfaithful to my wife, and my miscalculation had only to do with what kind of girl you are, not with the obvious invitations you threw at me," Mark said.
"You listen to me, Mark," she started.
"Just shut up a minute, Jeannie," Mark said. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, I really am. But you see, there was nothing to indicate, in every thing you did, that you weren't as eager to make love as I was. I did not realize you're only a tease, really, and only want to pet and then leave a man panting and begging."
"You'll pay for what you did to me," Jeannie said. She could not believe that after last night he could sit here and talk to her this way, and she did not like the way she was being put on the defensive.
"Oh, shut up," Mark said. "Believe me, I've paid in self-respect and I've been through a thousand hells. Not because of you, but because of what I did to Edith."
"And what about what you did to me?" Jeannie asked, her voice rising again.
"I made love to you, Jeannie," Mark said. "There's such a thin line between your heavy, heavy petting, and making love, that I don't feel bad about it. Maybe it's a rationalization. But Jeannie, stop and think about yourself. What kind of girl are you? To pet as heavily as you do, and then obviously get pleasure from seeing men whine and beg. Maybe you forgot that in your near-hysteria last night, you babbled a lot of things."
"How dare you talk that way, after last night," Jeannie said, and she realized she was nearly shouting. "I'll make you pay, Mark, you just wait. And I won't go with you again, no matter how much you want me."
Mark took his pipe from an ashtray, and lit it, and puffed a couple of times, and Jeannie realized that although her skirt had slipped higher on her thighs, he still had not so much as glanced at her.
"No, I won't go out with you again," he said, finally. "You're one of the loveliest and most provocative girls I've ever seen, but that's all you are, Jeannie. You can tease a man, and arouse him, but frankly, you're a terrible lover, and I doubt if you'll ever be able to really satisfy a man in making love."
Jeannie clamped her teeth into her lower lip until she tasted blood. "You'll want me," she said. "Now that you've had me, you won't be able to stay away from me, and my body, Mark. And then I'll make you pay. I'll see you every day, and I'll drive you crazy."
"You're driving me crazy, now, Jeannie," Mark said. "The way you're acting now."
Jeannie felt the blood throbbing at her temples, and she thought of last night, and she looked into Mark's blue eyes, and saw how utterly calm he was as he puffed his stupid pipe.
She stood up and stepped to his chair. "You'll want me again," she said, with shaking words.
"Jeannie, please sit down," Mark said. "So we can discuss this like two adults. Nothing else is going to happen between us. I realized last night how much I love Edith and how stupid I've been, and how much I want to salvage our marriage."
"I don't care how much you love Edith, you'll still want me," Jeannie said.
She moved closer and leaned down and kissed his lips and was surprised at how her blood comsed at the touch of those lips. She twisted her lips and rubbed her hands around his neck and tried to shove her tongue into his mouth.
But he tore his lips away, and pulled her hands from his neck.
"Jeannie," he said. "We're in my office. Had you forgotten that?"
Jeannie stared down at him, and realized she was breathing heavier after the kiss than he was. She felt strange and weak and warm, and she nibbled at her lip. Then as he started to speak, she suddenly sat down on his lap, grinding her body against his, and smothered his mouth with her moving lips.
But he tore free again, and put his hands on her waist, and lifted her away and stood up. Her breath poured out now and her cheeks burned, and she sniffled and felt tears in the comers of her eyes.
"Mark, let's go somewhere," she said, and was startled at the whining tone of her voice.
"We're not going anywhere," he said. "We're going to settle this thing here and now."
"Mark, you can't tell me you aren't burning to have me again," Jeannie said, and felt the warmth surge over her as she brushed a tear from the corner of her eye.
"No, Jeannie, in all honesty, I don't want you," Mark said. "I don't want to hurt you further, but as I said, you're a lousy lover, and you're too self-centered to ever please a man. And if I were to be stupid enough to continue being unfaithful with Edith, it would be with another girl and not with you."
"Laura!" Jeannie spit out.
"Yes, Laura," Mark said. "She may not have your knockout looks or body. But she is gentle and sensitive and giving, and frankly, she is a fabulous lover."
Jeannie brushed at her eyes, and a sob choked in her throat, and she doubled up her fists at her sides. Then she opened her hands and lunged for Mark's face with her nails.
But he grabbed her wrists and held her, and squeezed hard and then shook her. Then he released her and stepped back.
"I'll ruin you," Jeannie said. "And the first thing I'll do is to tell Edith. Wait until she finds out what you've been doing with her younger sister."
"I told Edith everything about us," Mark said. "And she asked me to tell you please not to come back to the house for a while. She was hurt, and stunned, but she forgave me."
"I'll go to the Dean," Jeannie said.
"I doubt it," Mark said. "I'm willing to take my chances. I doubt if yom previous and highly-developed ego would allow you to admit what happened, and take a chance on the story getting all over the campus."
Jeannie felt her lips trembling and she was afraid her legs would buckle beneath her. She sniffled again, then she suddenly slapped Mark across the cheek, as hard as she could.
But he did not do anything, did not flinch. And she put her hand to her mouth, and stepped back, and realized she was on the verge of hysteria.
She pivoted and ran crying from the office, and down the long hall. Then she stopped and glanced around, but she did not see anyone. Her breath poured out and she felt hot and funny and huge tears rolled down her cheeks.
She took out her handkerchief and dabbed at the tears, and tried to control her shaking body. She forced herself to be calm, and then she stepped over to a corner, and took out her compact.
Her face was a mess and her hair was tousled about. She glanced around again, then hurried to the ladies room, and told herself she had to get hold of herself and then decide calmly what to do.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jeannie still felt weak, but she forced herself to walk slowly and calmly back to the house, thankful that she did not meet many students since it was the dinner horn on the campus.
She had spent a long time fixing her face and hair and trying to decide what to do, but most of the time had been spent cursing Mark. And now as she turned up the twisting walk to the sorority house, she still had no definite plan.
The girls were in the dining room, and Jeannie ran up the stairs. Just the thought of eating made her ill, and she told herself she simply could not endure the idea of having to talk and laugh and all, and pretend nothing had happened.
She hurried to her room, and got undressed, then went into the bathroom and turned the water very hot. And she paused and stared at her nude body in the full-length mirror.
How could Mark possibly not be insane with desire to be with this body again, she asked herself. Somehow, she would get him alone, and maybe a little drunk, and then she would make him pay.
But she remembered what he had said, that despite her body and looks, she would never really satisfy a man making love. She looked down and saw the thin line of thorn-cut scabs on her leg, and looked quickly from the mirror.
She stepped into the burning spray and turned to face the sharp points of water, and told herself that what Mark didn't understand was that she did not want to please a man, but only have a man have a man please her, in her own special ways, while she controlled herself and made him see how weak he was.
She stood a minute in the water, and then she was surprised at how her body just tingled at the touch of the spray, and she realized her red nipples were getting hard now, and then she felt warm, and realized it was not all because of the water.
She quickly cut the water off and took a large, fluffy towel, and started drying herself, and the tingles shot over her body, and she sucked in her breath, and stepped from the shower stall.
She threw the towel down, and moved to the lavatory, and brushed her teeth. Then she ran out to the bedroom, and realized her heart was pounding.
She stood a moment, then walked to the bureau and took out frilly bra and panties and put them on, and finished dressing with uncertain fingers.
She walked to the window, and stared out at the early dusk, and watched students on the sidewalk, and looked at the full moon just visible through the limbs of the trees, and she drummed her fingers on the window sill.
She had just turned from the window when she heard a car door slam. She looked back to see Laura climbing from Paul's car, and hurrying up the walk to the house.
Jeannie crossed over to the dresser and took out a cigarette and lit it. She drew a couple of quick, nervous puffs, then mashed the cigarette out.
She heard someone in the hall, and she ran to the door, then stopped and stepped casually into the hall as Laura was going into her room.
Jeannie walked down and looked at Laura through the cracked door. She remembered what Mark had said, and she stared at Laura's black hair and pale face and slim figure, and she shook her head. It was ridiculous for Mark to even compare Laura with her in any way. And then Jeannie told herself that Laura must feel absolutely wretched about what happened with Mark, the way she felt about him.
Jeannie knocked, then shoved the door open and walked in. Laura turned from the A shelf, where she was stacking some books.
"Oh, hi," she said, in a flat voice, and turned back to the books.
"How are you?" Jeannie asked. "You skipping dinner, too?"
"Oh, I had a burger and malt with Paul," Laura said.
"So you and Paul are back together, now?" Jeannie asked.
Laura turned from the shelf. "I guess we were never really apart," she said. "Have you seen Mark?"
"Why do you ask?" Jeannie said, and she went cold as she realized Mark might have told Laura everything that happened with them.
"I assume you've been following my relationship with him on a blow-by-blow basis," Lama said. "I just wondered if he told you everything is finished."
"I know everything is finished," Jeannie snapped. And she told herself that if she found out Mark had said anything about her, she would simply say he was lying.
Laura sighed and shook her head. "You know, I have to admit I'm glad it's over," she said. "Now that I've had my fling, it feels so nice just to be Paul's girl again."
"It sounds like you're doing a bit of rationalizing," Jeannie said.
"No, I don't think so," Lama said. "I had set Mark up as some kind of untouchable ideal, and I realize now that I used him as an excuse to myself not to fall in love too much with Paul. But now I know that I love Paul, and we're talking about getting engaged next month."
"It sounds like a story-book ending," Jeannie said.
Laura shrugged. "Maybe it is," she said. "What I did cost me a lot of self-respect and all, and it will be a long time before I make it up to Paul for the way I hurt him. But then, we'll have a long time together."
"Oh, hell, I'm sick of hearing about self-respect and guilt," Jeannie said. "Are you trying to tell me you wouldn't jump at the chance to see Mark again, if he called you right now."
"No, I wouldn't see him again, Jeannie," she said. "But then I know he wouldn't call. We had a long talk, and we understand each other. He loves his wife and I love Paul, and we agreed our relationship would never work out."
"A long talk!" Jeannie said. "I'll bet. Do you want to know what Mark said about you?" Jeannie told herself she would be damned if she would let Lama get away with being this smug, no matter what she had to make up.
"No, I don't think I do," Laura said. "Frankly I don't think I'd believe anything you told me. And Mark and I parted friends, so even if you told me the truth about something he said, I'd rather not hear it."
"You'll go crawling back to him on your hands and knees," Jeannie snapped, and she pivoted and raced from the room.
She turned toward her room, then paused. She could not stand going back and brooding, she told herself.
She heard Laura behind her. "Are you all right?" Laura said.
"Of course, I'm all right," Jeannie said. "Why shouldn't I be?"
Then Jeannie ran down the steps and stopped and caught her breath. She signed out, and stood on the porch a moment, then hmried up to the campus.
She went into the just phone booth she saw, and fumbled a dime from her cluttered pmse. Then with trembling fingers, she dialed Mark's number. As the phone rang, she told herself she would simply hang up if Edith answered.
But Mark answered, and Jeannie nibbled her lip, and tried to check her breathing.
"Mark, I'm calm now and I must see you," Jeannie said, in a soft, and she hoped, very sexy voice.
"That's not possible," Mark said. "I told you this afternoon that we could not see each other again, Jeannie. Now, be reasonable."
"Mark, I've been thinking about what you said," she purred. "And I can show you that I can be a real woman for you, and can use my body in ways you will never forget. Oh, Mark, please, I'm going crazy thinking about having you."
"Jeannie, I'm not going to see you again," Mark said. "Perhaps I was wrong in what I said about you, but this doesn't change the fact that I love your sister and will not under any circumstances, hurt her again."
"Mark, I've never begged anyone in my life," Jeannie said.
"Then show some self-respect and don't beg me," he said. "Find some boy your own age, Jeannie. But leave me alone."
"You rotten crum," Jeannie screamed.
Then she heard him hang up. She went livid with rage and slammed the receiver down. She stood on rubbery legs, her cheeks burning, and chanted to herself that she did not really want Mark, that she only wanted to pet with him and get him worked up and make him pay.
She steadied her fingers and dug in her purse for another dime. She told herself she was foolish and should forget Mark, and go back to her beautiful life before she got involved with him.
She dropped the dime into the phone and called Chuck's fraternity house, and told herself she wanted to return to the life where boys just went crazy over her body and fawned over her and made her happy.
Chuck was obviously surprised to hear from her, and yet she could tell he wasn't nearly as elated as he should have been.
"I'd like to see you tonight," she said.
"I'm really glad you called," he said. "But, well, I met this girl, and I'm sort of involved with her, and we have a date tonight."
"Oh, Chuck, I'm simply dying to see you," she said. "Couldn't you postpone the date?"
"Well, I don't know, Jeannie," Chuck said. "I mean, after what happened last time and all, and then you've been avoiding me...."
"But I'm sorry and I'll really make it up to you tonight, in my own special way," she said.
"Okay, where can I pick you up?" he asked.
"I'll be at the house," she said.
She hung up and started back to the house, and told herself that she would park with him, and it would be like always with her, and she would make Chuck and every other man she knew pay for what Mark had done to her.
Bert's was nearly deserted, and Jeannie and Chuck whirled around the rough, wooden boards as a mournful, saxophone-ridden number whined from the juke-box.
Chuck held her close and she squirmed her body subtly about his, and her fingers roamed over his back and his neck and in his hair. And though he was breathing heavily, so was she, and when he slid his hands down to rub her buttocks she felt a flash of warmth.
She made him move his hands up, but the warm feeling remained, and then he was kissing her ear softly, and she had to pull her head away, because it made her feel all funny.
And she was sweating when the record ended and they walked back to their booth. She sank down and stared from the window and told herself the humidity was just unbearable in this damn swamp.
"Another drink, Jeannie?" Chuck asked.
"Yes, and lots of ice," she said. "And lots of gin, too." She just felt sticky and terrible, and sort of funny, and she could not wait until she parked with Chuck, and it was like old times. Yet, she knew she was hesitating about leaving, and she did not really understand why.
She looked back through the window at the surrounding swamp, and she thought of last night, and shuddered. She turned to Chuck and took the drink and poured down deep swallows of the bone-cold gin and tonic. When she set the nearly-empty glass on the table, she felt a little better.
Chuck put his hand over hers on the rough wooden table, and she jerked her hand away. Then she remembered she had promised to be extra nice to him tonight, because he had broken his stupid date.
So she forced herself to smile slightly, and she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry," she said. "You startled me."
"You seem a thousand miles away tonight, Jeannie," he said.
"Just wait until we leave," she said, and snuggled next to him.
"You about ready to go?" he said. "You know, it's getting kind of late."
She smiled on the corners of her lips. "Just let me finish this drink," she said. And she picked up the glass and drained the strong, cold gin and told herself poor Chuck could not wait to park with her.
Chuck paid the bill and got a bottle and set-ups, and everything went as it usually did when they left. He drove rapidly from the parking lot, and around the twisting, narrow swamp-road, while Jeannie let the rushing wind cool her flushed face. She stared at the swamp-growth, and heard the sounds of small animals and frogs and the thrashing of water she could not see.
From time to time, Chuck glanced down at the bare thigh beneath her tight skirt, and she smiled to herself and kept saying soon everything would be back to normal, and she would make Chuck pay for not wanting to come out with her tonight.
Chuck finally pulled off the road and parked on a broad shoulder behind thick bushes. Then he slid across the seat, and put his arm around Jeannie's shoulder. She told herself everything was going the way it always did, and she smiled to herself when he kissed her, and she felt his heavy breathing.
She toyed with the rim of his ear, and twisted the kiss harder, and told herself she would be absolutely merciless with him. But she felt so warm and sticky, and a little funny, and when his tongue-tip flicked into her mouth, she was startled at the way little points of ice danced over her back.
She warned herself to be careful, and she lashed her tongue at his, and felt his hand slide down to squeeze her arm. She tried to conduct the petting ritual as she always did, and she blocked his hand from her breast, and kissed him in the most wicked way she knew, and let his other hand trail up her leg, and under her skirt.
Yet, her heart was beating now, and she was really warm, and felt weak, and she knew her cheeks were red. And somehow, his kiss was really arousing her.
She cursed herself, and tickled and pinched and rubbed his ears and neck and back, and let him rub over her moist thigh to the edge of her panties. And though she twisted her thighs as always, the most incredible little delicious feeling raced over her body at the touch of his fingers on her thigh, just like last night with Mark.
She broke the kiss, and brushed his cheek, and mashed her damp lips over his ear, and her hot, darting tongue smothered the ear, and she let him cup a breast through her blouse.
Then without realizing it, really, she sought his lips, and kissed him fiercely, and raked her nails down his body, and squirmed and groaned softly.
She did not stop him when he started unbuttoning her blouse, and she leaned forward so that he could unfasten her bra easily. And when the breasts poured free, and he fell to them with biting, wet lips, she gasped and an utterly maddening wave of desire shot over her weak body.
She bit his ear and neck, and shoved her breasts harder against his mouth. And she adjusted her thighs for his incredibly arousing hands.
She slid down in the seat and in a last moment of rationality, she cursed her body for betraying her. But as she dug her nails in Chuck's back and moved her body to his, and felt him fumbling from his clothes, she knew that last night, Mark had awakened something in her and she would never be able to control herself again when she was with a man.
But the feelings were so intense and so wickedly delicious, she did not care, and she groaned and gyrated and only wondered what would happen when the word got around, to all the boys she had teased and petted with and humiliated.
Then Chuck was working with her, and she gasped and clamped her eyes shut, and knew she would do anything for this feeling.
She moaned and soared to a point of blinding excitement and heard herself scream with pleasure....
