Trick or Treat?

by Ray Connolly

  ‘Shall we go to bed?’ Arbus wasn’t asking now, he was too confident for that. His question was no more than a formality: a way of asking directions: a way of telling Kathy that he was now too old to fuck on the floor, and would she mind showing him the way to her room that they might undress and lie together between sheets, and that he might more thoroughly enjoy his afternoon’s act of adultery.

  Kathy nodded and without speaking led him quickly into her room. Arbus followed, silently admiring the swaying figure in the loose-fitting skirt that moved before him.

  He was surprised at the bareness of the room. Everywhere and everything was brilliant white, from the lace curtains to the carpet and the walls, and against the walls paintings of white and lighter greys, like shadows in the snow, had been hung, that their presence might break the monotony of the walls while not detracting from the overall effect of glacial brilliance. Kathy sat down on the edge of the bed, her legs splayed out across the room, her arms propping her up from behind. He began to slip off his jacket: ‘It would be foolish to waste time, wouldn’t it?’ was all he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, and turning away from him quickly undid her shirt and belt and slipped out of her clothes. Her movements were so quick and practical that before he had realized it she was naked, a long fair form pulling the sheets around her as she turned back towards him and slid her body into the bed: with her hair spreading carelessly across the pillow she watched him. She was, he thought, almost too perfect: less golden than when he had first met her, but still remarkably beautiful.

  Lying in the starched cleanliness of the sheets Kathy watched Arbus undress, saw the deep tan of his body, and the cluster of greying hairs on his chest, and found herself admiring the trim neatness of his body. She could already sense an increasing excitement within her and as he climbed out of his clothes, more slowly and methodically than she had done, she moved her hand to caress herself.

  ‘You have made both of us wait a long time for this moment, Kathy,’ he chided as he slid in beside her, pulling his watch off his wrist as he did and putting it on the white carpet. Kathy didn’t answer. Pushing one hand under her he rolled on to one side and allowed the other to play along the contours of her body, seeking to please and gently attentive to her reactions. She hid her head in his shoulder and let her hands take him by the waist: ‘Now Claude. I want it now,’ she murmured pushing her body up until it crushed into his and pulling wide her legs. And without another murmur he climbed on top of her and pushing his hands under her bottom cupped her flesh in his hands and with her fingers to guide him he entered her.

  The depth of Arbus’s penetration into her made Kathy wince with pain for a second, but even as she hid her face into his neck to make secret her expression his rhythmical movements had already begun to transform that tearing feeling into one of flowing, numbing pleasure which moved up her and throughout her entire body. And as they laboured together, first slowly, then more quickly and then slowly again that he might conserve his climax until his partner was more ready Arbus congratulated himself on a long-fought and now-won campaign: while Kathy for her part remembered her appraisal on first meeting him when she had wondered if he were in fact as good a lover as he would no doubt imagine himself to be. And now she had her answer: and it was yes. And as she clung on to him, pulling him into her from his neck and back, he held her up from underneath and allowed his hands to gently massage the entrances to her body, kneading the tops and backs and insides of her thighs with his hands, pushing and withdrawing with a regular and controlled rhythm. And suddenly and without warning, more quickly than she could remember it happening with another man, she began to feel the muscles in her belly contracting in a familiar, welcome, though rare sensation. And with a gasp she allowed a long and grateful moan to escape her lips as his pace quickened and he grew larger inside her until with a final heave and push his body seemed to erupt and to flow into hers. And as she released her fingers from his flesh with thankful pleasure, he collapsed into the pillow at the side of her head, suddenly a dead weight on top of her that spread heavily and uncomfortably across her body.

  She would have wanted to push him off her, to draw herself out from under him, to go and wash, to douche herself and to lie in a bath and cleanse herself of his efforts: but she knew that couldn’t be allowed if Ille’s plan was to have any chance of success. So keeping closed her eyes she lay there, now aware of the strong and seemingly growing smell of garlic on his breath, and the weight of the now dozing man.

  She didn’t hear Ille enter the room. Neither of them did. Arbus, exhausted by his endeavours and well satisfied with his performance, was in a state of blissful semi-consciousness, and Kathy’s view and hearing were impeded by his bulk across her body.

  ‘Can I not leave you for one hour, my love?’ Ille’s voice came like an accusation at both of them. Kathy started. She had been expecting Ille before the love-making had begun, but in the sweat of the moment the planned intervention of the third party into the affair still came as a shock. Arbus for his part leapt with surprise, and pulling himself free of Kathy he strained his neck round to find Ille standing over both of them, wrapped in her red hooded gown, a smile playing confidently around her lips. Arbus looked quickly at Kathy, adjusting the sheets which were betraying more of his body than his shock was prepared to allow. Above him Ille loomed, an enigmatic smiling creature, startlingly beautiful. Automatically Arbus’s mind shot back to an occasion when as a youth he had been caught with Hélène by her parents at their home one Sunday afternoon. He hadn’t known what to do then and he didn’t now. Totally compromised he was just about to begin planning how best to extricate himself from his embarrassing situation when without another word Ille suddenly opened her gown and with her eyes fixed determinedly on him allowed the red garment to fall about her feet leaving her naked underneath. Next to him he felt Kathy move across the bed to make room for her friend, and without a word between them Ille climbed into the place made vacant in the bed, her legs brushing against his as she moved down between the sheets, her hands urging him to move further across the mattress that she might have more space. Still exhausted from his recent efforts he again found himself stirring with excitement at this altogether unexpected turn of events. He still didn’t trust Ille; he could never trust a woman who appeared to behave with such capriciousness towards men, but already he felt his desire for her arousing him.

  Kathy looked at Ille in open admiration. With her act of love-making over she had become instantly repelled by Arbus’s presence, the earlier excitement now smothered in the loneliness of what should have been the afterglow. Ille must have crept into the apartment sometime earlier, because she had not gone out for lunch in that red gown: thoughtfully Kathy wondered how much of her love-making had been overheard or even watched by Ille. She wouldn’t be surprised if Ille had purposely stood back and enjoyed all of it, only to make her entrance when she knew the two participants were at their most morally and physically depleted. As Ille climbed into bed, her hands under the covers, Kathy felt Arbus’s body begin to stiffen with excitement again. Men are such pigs, she thought. So easily excited; so easily promiscuous.

  ‘You don’t mind if I join you?’ asked Ille, the fact already accomplished. Out of Arbus’s line of vision she caught Kathy’s eyes and smiled at her. Kathy’s feelings of dirtiness began to wash from her, and she watched with fascination as Ille turned her attention to Arbus, whose eyes were now wide with surprise and confusion.

  ‘Surely Monsieur Arbus you don’t have any objection. Kathy and I like to share everything … and everyone. Is that not a test of a true friendship?’ And playfully she let her hand slide down his body and between his legs. He wriggled in excitement as her surprise movement sent shocks racing from his unprotected stomach muscles along his nervous system. ‘Now that you have made love to my friend, surely you will also make love to me.’

  Arbus turned to Kathy, looking for some reaction. After the initial thrill he was again beginning
to feel unsure of himself. They were both too predatory. He couldn’t imagine what game these two girls were up to but he felt that he might easily soon find himself in some compromising position. Kathy smiled at him, her sweetest agreement. She desperately wanted to see him make love to Ille now. They had to be equal. Nodding slowly she rubbed a hand across Arbus’s chest, meeting Ille’s hand, which having made its exploratory reconnoitre of the state of Arbus’s excitement was now beginning to massage his stomach and chest. Hemmed in between these two beautiful and confident creatures Arbus’s self-assurance began to ebb. He would dearly have wanted to make love to Ille as well, but now didn’t seem the most appropriate moment. And as he considered the situation, his hands now resting on the thighs of both girls, he wondered whether or not he might not make a fool of himself by trying to have another woman so soon after the first. What if he were to find himself incapable? Sensing the debate which was conversing in his mind, Ille once again allowed her hand to stroke the inside of his thighs. ‘Perhaps you need helping, Monsieur Arbus,’ she whispered in his ear, and deftly turning her body in the bed she pulled back the sheets and with her tongue darting rapidly and sensuously she began to nuzzle his thighs and belly, licking and nibbling and sucking until once again the excitement rose throughout him. And lying alongside them both Kathy watched with growing excitement, and climbing upwards on the bed she pulled her own body round that she might kiss Ille’s hips and waist while leaving her own thighs and stomach free for whatever imaginings Arbus might be able to fulfil. And in a moment all three were locked in a tangle of excitations, three moving human forms tied together by their carnality on that bed in a room brilliant in its whiteness. And then as Ille felt the strength and desire pulsating throughout Arbus she suddenly pulled clear of Kathy and gently pushing her to one side she climbed on top of Arbus and, adjusting herself, pushed his penis deep inside her. And while Kathy began to kiss him Ille moved her body up and down on his, she the master of the situation, he the captured stud, until in a sudden premature paroxysm of delight he felt himself coming once again, and this time into Ille, who sitting bolt upright on top of him smiled and pushed until his body was freed from desire, and he grew small within her. And then collapsing into the arms of the waiting Kathy she lay very still for some time, until at length Arbus, realizing that the afternoon was nearly over, raised himself up; and noticing that the two girls to whom he had made love were now sleeping, climbed out of bed and going to the bathroom carefully filled the bath that he might lie there for some moments and wash away the scent of Patchouli which he recognized as belonging to Ille, and where he might consider the unexpected and, to him, inexplicable behaviour of the two girls. And as he soaked himself, and rested wearily inside his bath of green bubbles, he studied his body, and the deep tan lines that were a remembrance of his month in Corsica; and he congratulated himself on his appeal to young girls. He had hoped for and expected an affair with Kathy. But the possibility of being able to have both girls, and apparently with not only the consent but the wilful co-operation of both, filled him with a new feeling of pride in himself, his attractions and his abilities.

  From Kathy’s bedroom Ille heard the water running in the bathroom: the first part of their plan had worked. She looked around the room and noticed Arbus’s gold-strapped watch on the floor. That had been thoughtful of him, she thought: he hadn’t wanted to scratch Kathy. Alongside her Kathy lay quietly watching and saying nothing. The moment of gaiety that they had both experienced a few minutes earlier had vanished and they were again sombre and silent. Tenderly Ille put out an arm to her friend and waited while her approach was accepted, and then with a fondness that overwhelmed both of them they found themselves clinging deep into each other’s arms, glad to be rid of Arbus again, and safe in their own companionship. Ille was right, thought Kathy: I may enjoy fucking men but no one other than Ille can give me the comfort I need. And together they lay for a long time, carefully stroking each other, and touching in the secret places that only the two of them knew and understood, while they reaffirmed their affections.

  And later when Arbus, now washed and clean and deodorized of those tell-tale perfumes that he might return home to his wife, came back into the room, a towel tied discreetly round his waist, the two girls appeared to be in a deep and carefree sleep. And not wishing to wake them lest they should be annoyed he stood and watched them for a time, mentally remarking on their beauty and observing the contrasting textures of their skins and hair. Until at length, realizing that they were not going to waken up so long as he was there, he quickly dressed and let himself out of the apartment, wondering when again he might be so lucky, and hoping that it might indeed be very soon.

  And it was in such a way that Kathy and Ille came to christen the bedroom that Ille had so carefully prepared for the baby she wanted: and never once did the moral question of what they were doing get to have a fair hearing in the minds of the two girls. But instead, once they were sure that Arbus was out of the apartment door, they got up and leaving the crumpled, damp and stained sheets of the white room they made their way back to Ille’s bed, where together they smoked a couple of joints and told each other of the day’s events and congratulated each other on their gamesmanship, at the same time making new plans for further encounters with Arbus. And when they were well and truly high Ille asked Kathy if she had had an orgasm, and Kathy had to admit that she had, which pleased Ille enormously, although Kathy, who was apt to more frequent fleetings of jealousy, couldn’t imagine why. But if it pleased Ille to know, then it pleased Kathy to tell her.

  Chapter 8

  October in Paris was like a whole new season to Kathy: it was richer than she was used to; the browns deeper and redder, the mists damper. In California summer became autumn more slowly: the visible changes were less marked. In Paris everything changed: clothes, and fashions as much as anything. She had heard much of Paris in the springtime, but it was the autumn that she was sure she would like the best. And from the apartment windows she would stand and stare out at the worn and weathered face of the city as it took on its winter dress, watching the streets as the people’s coats grew heavier, and the lights were turned on earlier; and then sometimes in bed with Arbus and Ille she would grow tired of the afternoon games and find herself staring out at the courtyard, walking around the soft white carpet, and standing gazing down as the winds blew the long curling russet fingers of horse-chestnut leaves around in scampering, haphazard swarms. And then turning back from the window she would gaze upon the drowsing forms of Ille and Arbus: he a little drunk, and she usually a little stoned: he, hiding his body under the sheets, she, not caring whether her breasts or thighs remained uncovered while she recovered her energies.

  It was a remarkable month: a time of private confusions and questions in the minds of both Kathy and Ille; a month of variable carnality unlike anything any of the three participants had experienced before. To Arbus the arrangement to which he had now become an only partly briefed accomplice seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity: Kathy offered straight, conservative, but golden sexual fulfilment. She looked beautiful and she used her body with a selfish precision and desire for climax that excited him into quick and early ejaculations. With Kathy sex was hurried and hungry. And then, after he was finished with her, or indeed she with him, Ille would be always there, leaning over him while he panted and regained his composure: re-arousing him by a thousand tricks and methods, until again he would find himself pouring out his body into this dark and sensuous girl, a girl who sometimes he felt half resembled a beautiful demon. And then after he was finished again he would sometimes watch while the two girls would lie together until sleep overtook him. Rarely was much said. There was nothing that he wanted particularly to say to either of them. He still felt somewhat in awe of Ille: together she and Kathy made a formidable pair. But clearly they were not dissatisfied with his performance because whenever he requested a further meeting they would both instantly agree and set a new date. And before long h
e did not even bother with the formality of taking Kathy to lunch: but would turn up at the apartment for the ration he had come to expect, for the drug of the two bodies and their varying techniques to which he had become addicted. It was a perfect arrangement. They never wanted to be taken out in the evening, to be dined or wined, to be flattered, coaxed or telephoned. It was, they made sure he knew, only his body they were after. And the knowledge of this made him proud of his own virility, although he had increasingly to plead to Hélène that pressure of work at the office left him too tired to make love to her when he got home at night, which was not a situation which seemed to cause her any loss of sleep, since fifteen years of married life had dulled her desire for sex with her husband more than a little.

  Kathy’s attitudes towards the whole affair were a scrambled maze of ambivalences. Although she felt no love for Arbus she did desire his body: she rediscovered the need to be penetrated in the way that Ille could never achieve: yet she also needed the company of Ille to add the true excitement to the occasion, the slight touch of madness, of evil, that half frightened her yet pushed her to greater lengths, and bade her perform with increasing frequency. Arbus to her was, she told Ille, like a vibrator which the two of them could operate for their mutual benefit. The fact that he had a thinking brain was of concern to neither of them. And excited by the instant orgasms she had achieved during the afternoons Kathy would feel increasingly affectionate towards Ille during their long evenings together. And, though they made love now much less frequently than before the affair with Arbus had begun, when they did their actions would be propelled entirely by feelings of affection, and would correspondingly be less torrid and less frenetic. Sometimes, when in a mood of velvet emotion Kathy would inquire of her friend why Arbus was really necessary to their lives, Ille would have to remind her of the whole object of the exercise; tell her about their planned baby, and demand to know if Kathy were not, in fact, now changing her mind.