"When the loving gets rough" - читать интересную книгу автора (Scope Perry)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Pat opened her eyes and shaded them with her fingers. The morning light pushed through the tightly draped windows, revealing every crack and flaw in the plastered walls. She reached down and smoothed the slip which had hiked up around her waist during the night. She heard sounds in the kitchen, breakfast sounds mingling with the sweet sound of Karen's clear, untrained, yet appealing voice. Pat tried to identify the tune Karen sang. Then the voice drifted closer and Pat decided to close her eyes again and let Karen wake her.

"Pat?" Karen coughed apologetically. She was sure that Pat would be up by the time she had finished making breakfast, and now she didn't know whether to let her go on sleeping or wake her up. The cooling eggs she had whipped so carefully and the wilting slices of bacon decided her. "Pat?" she called a little louder. She saw the eyelids flutter in the still face. The girl was so beautiful and composed, even in sleep, that she made Karen feel like an adolescent with a crush on her teacher.

Pat feigned a sleepy grin. "Morning, baby." She yawned authentically. "Where's your husband?"

"At work. He won't be back until evening." Karen tugged nervously at the plain robe which completely covered the wispy nightgown. She pretended to pluck imaginary lint from a sleeve.

"Leave him, Karen," Pat swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up as the blankets fell from her body. Her voice was intense, yet her face was clear and undisturbed. "Leave him," she repeated. Her head came to Karen's breasts. She nuzzled between them softly, like a child, then dropped a kiss lovingly between the jutting globes. The faded-blue robe smelled of sun and woman perfume.

Karen looked down at the seated girl. The head between her breasts looked so right where it was. She wanted to touch the dark strands. "How can I?" she asked, instead. "Even if I wanted td, I couldn't. Don't you understand? I couldn't. Don't you understand? I couldn't do that to Al. He really doesn't deserve to be treated like that." Karen wanted to explain, make Pat understand, but the girl's kisses were lightly skimming over her bodice, and she couldn't think, much less argue convincingly.

Hardly taking time to look up from the softness of Karen's well-covered chest, Pat contemptuously repulsed the blonde's sentiment. "Al's a nice enough guy, baby, but he's like any man. He'd make love to another girl in a minute, if he got the chance. The same as any other man, doll. If that sort of fidelity is important to you…" Pat ducked her head and kissed a button which sealed the cloth over Karen's navel.

Karen closed her eyes and fought to keep her breathing and her head clear. She didn't have the strength or desire to push the lazily circling head away. "Not Al. He… he's not like that. Really. I know that…" The dark-haired head was back between her breasts. "Other men are – like that, but not Al. I know."

"I could prove it, you know," Pat challenged, dropping a final kiss under one breast. She threw her head back and looked up at Karen, her lips spreading into a warm, almost innocent-looking smile.

"I've got breakfast on the kitchen table. Will you eat with me?" Karen wanted to change the subject. It was getting out of hand.

"I'm starved. I'll just be a moment." Pat got up and made her way to the bathroom. When she came out she looked much more awake.

Over their second cup of coffee, after Karen had removed their empty dishes, Pat resumed her argument. "I could prove it, you know. Are you afraid to find out that Al is like any other man?"

"Of course not!" Yet, Karen admitted to herself as she stared into her coffee cup, she was afraid! She was afraid that she was about to be tricked, about to commit herself to something she might regret, something she even now did not understand.

"Well, then, darling," Pat paused, her eyes suddenly slitted and looking dangerous, "shall I prove it?"

During that moment of hesitation, as Karen stared back into her empty cup for an answer, Pat moved cat-like to her side and silently coaxed Karen to her feet. This was the understanding, the sensitivity Karen knew was missing from her marriage and it made her weak all over. Everything was happening so fast, she was convinced it was all a dream. They were kissing. They were naked. They were on the bed in the living room. She felt her hot breasts being caressed by delightful, feminine hands, followed by tender wet kisses. A hot moist tongue traveled down her stomach and circled her navel, on its way down… down… down! Though Karen heard the animal-lust sounds escaping from deep in her own throat, she couldn't believe it was happening to her!

Afterwards, smiling into each other's eyes, Pat repeated her question. "I must have you as much as you need me. About Al – darling," Pat kissed each lip separately before finishing, "let me prove it… men… It's no good. Us, we're right… for each other. Al's like the others." She pressed her lips to Karen's pointy little chin. "Let me show you, darling. I'll prove his…" she fished around for a word that would cover a concept she did not, in any case, value, "… faithlessness. Then you'll come away with me."

Karen sighed against Pat's breasts. She felt right there, pillowed by strong, yet feminine arms. Al was a blur in her memory. He didn't matter. Nothing mattered, save this moment, this happiness. "Yes," Karen whispered. She would consent to anything, anything, just as long as this wonderful moment did not pass too quickly. She plunged her lips deeply into the naked flesh.

Her last guilty thought, before again finding oblivion in Pat's embrace was of Allen. She found herself hoping that he would fail her, and, in that way, force her into a decision she didn't have the strength to make by herself.

Karen felt Pat's amused eyes on her as she unpacked with her usual efficiency and orderliness. She had done what she wanted to do, what she felt she had to do. She belonged to Pat now, in just the way she had wanted to, and had imagined she would, belong to Al. But he had let her down, first on their wedding night, and now, again, with Pat.

Karen welcomed the memory of the evening that had passed. It had been painful at the time, but it had served not only to chase away the fear and doubts, but also finalized her decision to leave her husband.

She had felt stupid and petty in agreeing to help Pat pull off her plan, her grand proof. She had felt like a thief and a sneak, first, while writing the note that Al was to find when he returned from school, again, when she had hidden like a Peeping Tom in the bushes alongside her own house. Like a spectator who undertakes an intricate part in some bizarre play, Karen watched her husband return tired to their home, unlock the door, switch on a light, find her note and read it.

The view from the window was all Pat had promised it would be. Pat, on schedule, appeared at the front door moments later and then Karen watched the play, which would determine her future, progress. It came in splotches of exaggerated emotion. First, Al's face; surprise, welcome, hunger and awkward doubt. She knew the words Pat spoke, the game of pretending to seek Karen, as planned, in Pat's being invited inside to wait, the slow unfolding of raw sensuality. The final act, that of adultery, was observed and overseen by the playgoer held trance-like at the windowpane.

Pat was on her back, her naked loveliness spread out on the bed, their bed, while Allen, her husband, was fitting his thin body tightly between the outstretched limbs of the girl under him. Pat's face, eyes closed, was a precious mask of sensuality, and yet, remoteness… Al's narrow buttocks were poised and ready to shoot his piston-like flesh into the soft cavity of the girl pinned under him.

Then the first thrust… the involuntary reaction of totally feminine legs shooting into the air as the hard flesh of the penis pinioned deeply within her opened vagina.

A desperate battle was taking place on the bed; woman, warm, soft, open, the passive vault into which the man, driving, steel-fleshed and frantic, labored to release the terrible burden building in his loins. He was like a crazed machine, ramming himself into the girl, seemingly helpless beneath him. The tempo of lust increased, the slamming buttocks a blur of motion, the limbs flailing underneath… until, finally, convulsively, a last wave of staccato thrusts culminated in body-racking, belly-quenching release.

Then the emotion was all on the part of the observer – shock, the sting of faithlessness, the acceptance of betrayal, the faint stirrings of desire inspired by the blunt sexuality. Reaction set in, rationalization, conclusion. The interpretation was the finale. The man's disloyalty… the water-eyed girl's sacrifice in the name of reality… and love…

It seemed appropriate that this union of man and woman should give birth to a new life. Karen's new life.

"Why don't you leave the rest of that stuff for later, baby?" Pat suggested, dropping a kiss lightly on Karen's ear.

Karen jumped slightly. "Oh! I didn't hear you come in." Karen turned to the girl, her intended smile a grimace. Be sweet and kind, Pat, please, she pleaded silently.

But Pat was filled with an impatient exhilaration. She couldn't keep from showing it. She had won! After all, she had won! She knew she would, but the actual accomplishment of it was heady.

"Let's go out, honey. Let's go to the coffeehouse. Let's celebrate! Let's go now, huh? Please?"

She's like a child, Karen thought. Does that make me a new toy? The cynical thought alarmed and surprised the girl. She repulsed it and again tried to smile. She was only slightly more successful. "If… if you want," she agreed hesitantly, not wanting to go out, not wanting to face more than herself and Pat with her decision.

"Mmmm, I want, baby! I want!" She kissed Karen with controlled passion. Desire for the lovely girl stirred, but there was time for that later, all the time in the world. Right now there was the anticipation of showing the world what she had accomplished… what she had won.

Their entrance was all Pat knew it would be. The bevy of females and the assortment of males she knew at the coffeehouse eyed the couple with knowing, interested eyes. In her usual, blunt fashion, Pat had informed her closer friends of her intentions toward Karen.

Pat was introducing Karen to people at the frantic pace of the old silent movies. Karen didn't even try to remember names or faces. Then a pretty blonde was beside her. She looked into the familiar face, which was pouting now with irritation and envy, and at once recognized Lorna.

"So you moved in with Pat, huh?" Lorna began without any pretense of friendliness.

"Well, yes," Karen mumbled, shrinking under the blonde's overt hostility. She felt almost compelled to offer some kind of excuse, but sanity assured her that it wasn't necessary.

Unlike Karen, Pat seemed to swell even more at Lorna's antagonism. She looked at the beautiful girl warmly. "Don't be a bitch, Lorna," Pat said loudly enough to be heard over the constant din of the place. "We'll still see each other." She smiled adoringly at Karen. "My relationship with Karen is a spiritual thing as well as a physical love. We can't be hampered and destroyed by petty jealousy." Her next words were for Lorna, though Pat delivered them with her eyes locked to Karen's. "Fidelity is only important in a marriage with a man. If a man strays he is giving his total concept of love to another woman. That's because he has nothing else to give. With two women their love with another woman means only the sharing of that love to a receptive, uninvolved third body, taking her into their love by a bodily expression of pleasure and empathy. The love is not weakened by this act – it's strengthened. That might sound confusing, but understanding comes with experience. Believe me."

Karen made a successful effort not to appear crushed by Pat's strange words. She only understood enough to know that the very thing she had left Al for was no longer a crime if committed by her new lover. Horror flooded her, speeding her heartbeats crazily. What have I done? she asked herself again. What have I done?

The rest of the evening was a blur to Karen. They walked back to their apartment arm in arm, safe in the cover of night. Yet, Karen had never felt more alone. There were so many moments when she was tempted to break away and run to the safety of the little cottage which had been her home until last night. Only the memory of the note she had hastily left Allen, telling him of her decision, stopped her. She couldn't go back to him and safety. She had nowhere to go but to bed with Pat.

Karen had delayed the actual moment like a child putting off a spanking. But the time had come. Her body felt stiff and unwilling, for once immune to the sought-after reality of Pat lying beside her.

But then, with the first light and sure touch of slender-tipped hands, Karen forgot her fears and heartache and turned to Pat with the ferocity of a mute animal. She looked for reassurance and love. What she found drove doubt and despondency to the outer cubbyholes of her mind with a liquid, torrid blast.

Then it was there, the same astounding sensation as the first time, the breathless ecstasy that accompanied this wonderfully sensual care taking of her body. The hands, the lips, that wonderful, giving tongue which brought her to the pinnacle of passion. But this time it was also different, because as the lapping homage was paid to her most secret flesh, Karen was overwhelmed with the need for a total commitment, a giving of herself on the throne of love, a sealing of the verbal transition of her flesh and soul from Al to this girl. She had to be all to Pat, as Pat had become all things to her.

As a final burst of eternal fulfillment engulfed her again, Karen rolled away from the greedy lips, fastening her own in a swooping gesture of overt love on the beautiful, pointed breasts of her lover. She tasted the burning tip of another woman's breast, drawing the nipple deeply into her own mouth. The sensation was rewarding. She remembered the soft, gently sucking motions instinctively from her postnatal desires. Karen wanted to, had to, give herself unselfishly to the fragrant flesh of this savior who lifted her from the death of mediocrity into the reality of satiation.

Pat felt the wetness of Karen's pointed tongue as it skimmed over her breasts, halted to suck up each ready nipple in turn. She gave in to the keen pleasure, but not without gloating over the totalness of her victory once more. She carefully guided the lips to every sensitive inch of her body, goading Karen further and further with words of love and happiness… "That's it, my darling… Yes… yes, sweetheart. Oh, that feels so good. Yes, sweetheart… use your tongue."

Karen moved her head under the skillful guidance of her teacher until her face was locked between Pat's marble-smooth thighs. The abundant hairs tickled Karen's lips and, for a fleeting moment, Karen involuntarily pulled away.

Smiling, confident now, Pat reassured Karen. "That's right, darling… Kiss me now… I need you… to kiss me…"

Karen gave in to the fierce renewal of love which the sound of Pat's voice activated once more. Trembling, she let her lips brush and then press against the warm mound of exposed flesh. The musky scent did not repulse her. Experimentally, she flicked her tongue against the bud of flesh which stiffly beckoned for an intimate embrace. Pat's moans broke the stillness of the night. Then with a sigh, Karen buried her lips against the cleft, plunging her tongue deeply into this woman who was now truly all things to the girl. In a blur of torpid heat Karen felt Pat's body shift until, at last, the two women were working as one, grinding their bodies furiously against each other. Karen felt as if she died and was reborn as each ecstatic second ticked by with startling, new sensations.

It was glorious. Never had the girl dreamed of such passion, such pleasure… She finally surrendered to sleep, her lips pressed to one firm breast, her doubts shattered in a swirling pool of sheer rapture.