Hard Rain Falling - Don Carpenter [110]
Jack stood up. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but if you want to go to bed, let’s go.”
She grinned. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’m making fun of you?”
“No.”
“Well, then; one of us is going to have to lead, and the other follow. One of us has to make the first move. Are you the type that likes to make the first move, or do you prefer the girls to do all the work? Or, I guess we could sort of stare at each other, and go ` Ooh! ’ and fall into each other’s arms.”
“I want it without all the bullshit. I haven’t slept with a woman in a long time.”
Something changed in her eyes, but her mouth was still amused. “Oh, really? Neither have I.”
“Jesus!”
“Well, why are we standing around talking?”
“How the fuck should I know? Let’s go.”
He took her hand and led her back into the bedroom. The bed was unmade. He was afraid she was going to ask him to ignore the mess, but he should have known better. She broke away from him, humming, and started to undress, slipping out of her slacks like a man, pulling her sweater over her head and coming up to Jack for him to unhook her brassiere. That cleared away the fog, and for the first time that night Jack began to feel really passionate and happy. In a very few moments they were on the bed naked together and not talking.
Jack had been afraid that after all that time it would be over too quickly, and he tried to put off the moment of penetration as long as possible, and then even that became dangerous and he entered her quickly; he had been right, and they were finished almost before they started; but before Jack had time to feel sorry about it, Sally went down on him, her appetites increased rather than diminished, and Jack did not have time to consider what to do, it was there in front of him to be done, and he dissolved into the animality of it, and for the next hour vanished into an ecstasy he had forgotten existed. It was too good to think about, too sweet to investigate, and on his third climax he almost fainted, and although his eyes were open he could see nothing but bright colors, as if he had gone blind to form, and then with one final teeth-rattling spasm he did subside into unconsciousness.
They were awakened around midnight by the telephone. It went on for fifteen sputtery rings before quitting, and by then they were smoking cigarettes in the semidarkness. He could feel her smooth skin against him, but he was beyond arousal.
“I suppose,” she said, “that I ought to tell you what a wonderful lover you are. For your manhood’s sake. But I’m so sick of that macho crap. I think you’ve really got it. But not as a lover. You’re okay, but you don’t know much. You’ve got vitality, but any teen-age boy could do better. And of course any woman. But all you really need is practice. You’re out of practice.”
Jack laughed. “God, you’re a nutty broad. You’ll talk about anything, won’t you.”
“Can you think of anything too good or too awful to talk about?”
“I guess not. I want a drink.”
“So bring us both one, baby.”
When he came back with the bottle and glasses, she was sitting up, with the nightstand light on. She looked very beautiful, and he was certain he was in love with her. He wanted to tell her, but he was afraid of what she might say. She seemed capable of making fun of him about it, or analyzing him. He did not want that.
“How do you guys make it in prison?” she asked. Jack went all tight inside, but he managed to finish his drink without speaking. Then he said, “That’s none of your business.”
“Oh. Did I step on something sacred? Or vulgar?”
“It’s just that—”
“I get it. You’re embarrassed. I guess I know what you do. I guess you have to. God, I wish I had a penis!”
Jack had been angry and exasperated, but now he did not know what to think. “Huh?”
She laughed. “None of that Freudian crap. I just wish I could be a man for a while, or me with a man’s penis. I’d love to do it to a woman or to another man. I love it so much I’d like to fuck the whole