by Tom Wilson
"By the way," he said, "thanks for the moral support back in the Philippines."
She thought his voice was a little thick with emotion. He was going to make a pass. She wondered how to most gently put him off. But should she?
She abruptly made her decision. The time was right and they would not have long together. She leaned toward him. He put his glass down and held her tightly. She enjoyed the sensation as they kissed. When they broke for air, she felt her breath coming faster and with some effort slowed it. Be sensible, Liz. Even if they made love, she must remain in control of herself and the situation.
She savored the aftertaste of the kiss. "Mmmm," she said, and put her arms around him. They kissed again and she sensed he was becoming aroused. Don't act as if you enjoy it too much, she cautioned herself.
Benny groaned and his hand gently cupped her left breast. "A long time," he whispered.
She stiffened and the hand dropped away. She was acting too coldly. Ease up. It was what he needed. The fact that he needed her made her warm. She reached over and turned off the bedside light, leaving only the glow from a single small lamp.
This time the kiss was wet and more intense. Her own tongue explored and she carefully arched her body toward his, allowing him to feel her against him. God, what a build the man had! They slowly lay back on the bed, pressed tight. She felt him hard against her abdomen and tried to repress the flood of warmth.
Liz tried to pull back just a little to catch her breath, but he was holding her tightly and she found herself losing her composure, heard herself crooning an involuntary moan.
"My room," he whispered.
He started to roll away, and she cried, "Don't go." Julie wouldn't be back for hours.
She was unbuttoning his shirt, then kissing his chest and shedding her blouse. He fumbled, so she guided his fingers to the bra release. She sensed it when he crossed the threshold separating caution from lust. They kissed wildly, and he felt her and she ached even more. He pulled a hand from her breast and reached down.
"I'll do it," she said. She worked his belt buckle free, then slowly loosened the catch and zipper.
He fumbled with her slacks and she twisted to get out of them. He pulled her bikini panties to her knees and caressed and probed her moistness with his hand, leaving her to push at the panties with feet and toes.
"Just a second," she said brightly, and drew back to remove the panties, fighting again to recover her senses. She moved gracefully, then repositioned herself, slightly drawing up one leg, knowing she looked appealing in the glow of the dim light.
They caressed and petted, and each time she felt her heat mounting, she would think of unpleasant things, like serving dinner aboard a crowded stretch 707 in turbulence, so she wouldn't lose her self-control. When he finally crawled onto her, she guiding him, she knew she was back in command of herself. Now to endure.
He entered her slowly, pressing lightly while he kissed her and explored with sure hands, moving relentlessly yet without haste. The heat grew in intensity until she felt she was being consumed, focused there, flushing upward to her face, her nipples tingling and her senses keen.
Liz cried out suddenly, tossing her head about wildly on the bed. She raked his back with her fingernails and gripped him about the waist with knees up and legs locked about the small of his back. She wanted to pull him entirely into herself!
For that one grand moment she was maddeningly, deliciously, totally out of control. An orgasm of shuddering intensity began to build . . .
Voices and laughter from outside. Sounds of the door handle moving.
"Oh, God!" she cried out. Benny withdrew.
"Get out!" called Liz toward the door, twisting away in horror as the door opened wider. She saw shapes. "Get out!"
The door closed and Liz huddled on the bed, burning with embarrassment but not wanting it to end. Then she looked at Benny, who was already dressing.
She wanted to tell him to come back, that she wanted to feel the wonder of it again. But she just lay there, chest heaving and clutching herself, too proud. Finally, she retrieved a shorty nightgown and pulled it on, trying to think of what she should say at a time like this.
Benny was quickly dressed, and finished by brushing his hair into place with his hands, the whole time avoiding looking at her. His face was flushed.
Liz stood, face flushed with humiliation but not wanting him to leave. There was nothing in her training that told her what to do.
He started to go, then turned to her, looking at her strangely.
Should she embrace him?
"See you tomorrow," he mumbled, and was gone.
She huddled on her bed miserably for a long time, thinking, before Julie finally came back to the room. She came directly over and sat beside her.
"Liz, we didn't see a thing."
That wasn't what worried Liz. There was nothing she could do about whatever Julie and Mal Bear had or had not seen. Her sadness was about Benny and the way he'd left.
"It's not just you," she said sadly. "What's he going to think, Julie?"
Liz noisily blew her nose. Her throat caught in a hiccup, then she blew again.
Julie didn't know that they hadn't finished, and she wasn't about to tell her. She'd probably been across the hall having multiple wall-crawlers with Mal Bear the whole time she'd been lying here feeling so miserable.
"He's probably as embarrassed as you are," said Julie.
Liz walked over to the mirror, where she dabbed her eyes dry and then heaved a sigh. "I guess I've known it since I first met him. He's awfully perfect for me, Julie."
"Then go after him, Liz. Considering everything you've got," Julie said, observing her, "that shouldn't be difficult."
As Julie was about to turn off the light, she told her about what Benny had said about Mal Bear losing his friends.
"I know. He feels responsible for every one of them." Julie went on. "He doesn't feel he's doing his job as well as he should, and it's tearing at him inside."
"He feels responsible?"
"Their jobs, Benny's and his, are to protect the other guys. Now, let's get some sleep so we can do Bangkok tomorrow."
When Liz finally drifted off, the matter of her feelings about Benny was happily resolved in her mind. She was a little concerned that some of her friends might consider him a warmonger, and that her parents might think her a blithering fool for settling on a man whose background she knew so little about, a divorced man at that, but that would be worked out.
They spent the next two days sightseeing, shopping at gem and jewelry markets, and trying the city's cuisine and nightlife. Once, at the women's urging, they ventured into what the men called a GI bar, and Liz was intrigued as they observed the sexy, doll-faced prostitutes hustling soldiers on rest and recuperation leave from Vietnam.
Liz tried to attract Benny by using various wiles. She was attentive and warm. He was friendly. She tried cool and proper. So was he. She tried sensuous and suggestive. He was shy and quiet. Nothing seemed to get his attention. At night, when it came time to drop her at her door, he'd kiss her and she'd respond enthusiastically, but then he would draw back, smile, and say good night. As she prepared for bed, she would think of his coolness, and it became difficult to imagine that the first night they'd coupled like wild demons.
When she turned off the lights to sleep, alone for long hours—for Julie dawdled late with the Bear—she would lie awake and try to make sense of it all. Now that she knew what she wanted, she didn't know how to fight to get it. Life was infuriatingly complex.
She had thought it out very wantonly. When she got her chance she would satisfy him as he'd never been satisfied before. She'd learn his darkest desires and make them come true. She knew men liked to be aroused orally, and once when she thought of doing it, she found herself writhing about in bed. She stopped and lay still, embarrassed, for it was Mal Bear she had been fantasizing about.
On Monday they wandered through the silk market. Exquisitely brocaded Thai silk wa
s fast becoming known as one of the world's finest fabrics. The prices at the market were modest, a tenth of what she would have paid in New York or Paris, but Liz found it hard to become excited, even when Julie bought four yards of beautiful white-on-white silk for an evening dress she would have made by a great tailor she knew in San Francisco's Chinatown.
That morning she'd confided to Julie that she had utterly failed with Benny. Tomorrow their time together would be over, and he was still acting cool. Julie was sympathetic, but she was not herself these days and didn't offer a solution. Her radiant, fulfilled look made Liz's situation even more maddening.
After the silk market they ate dinner at a small, clean restaurant they'd found. They ordered Thai beef, strips of lean meat with greens, curry, herbs, and hot, green peppers over white rice. They had learned to eat the extremely hot Thai food slowly, both to savor it and to allow their taste buds to recover between bites. They drank ice-cold Singha beer to help cool off.
"Robert Mitchum was here a short while back," said Benny, coming up with another of what Mal Bear called useless nuggets of information. "He wolfed down a plateful of hot curried beef. Said it was sissy stuff compared to the Mexican food he got in the border states."
"Whooo-eee! Call me sissy," said the Bear, taking a mouthful of beer and blowing.
At least, Liz thought jealously, Julie had certainly enjoyed the trip. She acted utterly happy. Liz wondered just what Mal Bear did that kept her glowing like that.
It was dark by the time they arrived back at the hotel. They went to the bar for a last round of nightly drinks together. This time Mal and Julie left early, and Liz was left with Benny, who sat brooding in a sort of melancholy. He ordered another round for them both.
"It's been fun," he said.
What was this, the thank you note? she wondered.
Getting no response, he added, "It's been relaxing."
Liz looked at him with mounting irritation. She'd given up on playing the various roles. "So what did you think of Bangkok?" she asked.
"Dirty, smelly, old, good food, gentle people."
She realized that this was the first time she'd really had him alone to herself. Except of course, on the frustrating trudges to her door. She looked at him squarely, without demureness, and observed him closely. He met her eyes. Perhaps . . .
"Uh, sorry about that first night, Liz," he mumbled. It was the first time either of them had mentioned it.
"What?" she asked dumbly. "Sorry?"
"The first night we were here."
"You're sorry?" She could not help herself as the dark rage that had been festering bubbled to a boil.
He nodded.
"You're sorry we made love?" She didn't care that the two businessmen at an adjacent table looked at her with surprise. "You're sorry?" Her voice was growing shrill.
"You're taking it wrong," Benny said, uneasy and obviously surprised at her outburst.
"I heard exactly what you said, Benny Lewis." Her Virginia accent grew more distinct as her anger grew. She stood slowly before erupting. She stamped her foot and squealed.
His mouth drooped.
After being so frustrated, it felt wonderful! She did it again, just stamped her foot and squealed out her anger even louder. Then she marched off toward the lobby.
The elevator was busy. She hmmphed, and started up the stairs. She huffed upward, her anger rising with each step. The goddam idiot fool! She stopped at the second floor landing, blew out a breath, and squealed again, this time so loud her throat ached. She felt a hot flush on her face, knew she was beet-red and unattractive, and didn't care.
At the third floor she stormed out through the stairwell door toward her room, fuming. Benny waited at her door, holding the purse she'd left at the table. She stopped in front of him, puffing from the effort of the stairs. "Now"—she blew a breath—"now what . . . am I . . . supposed to say? . . . 'Thank you nice man . . . for your wonderful . . . manners?'"
She angrily grabbed the purse, upended it, and scattered the contents onto the floor. Tissues, keys, various lipsticks, two compacts, birth control pills, aspirin, cologne, loose change, hairpins, and a wallet went flying. She saw it all lying in disarray and aimed a kick at the wallet.
"You're sorry, huh?" she snorted.
He was standing quietly. The fool had a grin on his face! She shrieked, stamping her foot yet again, then knelt to start collecting her things, unceremoniously throwing them into the purse.
"Just stand there and watch!" she stormed.
"Want some help?"
"I'd kiss a warty frog before I'd ask you for help."
A man pushed his head out to see what was happening in the hallway. Liz glared at him so nastily he pulled his head back like a turtle.
She continued to collect her things, slowing down as her anger subsided.
Another door opened. The Bear looked out questioningly, saw her and Benny, and asked if he could help. Julie said something from behind him.
"Go to hell!" Liz yelled.
"Wow," said the Bear, and closed the door.
Benny knelt and picked up a compact and some hairpins. "You're upset," he said.
"God, but you're observant."
"Sorry."
"You already said that!"
He looked exasperated. "You know what I mean."
She started to speak, then stopped herself. She took the things he had gathered, dropped all but her room key into the purse, and snapped it shut.
As Benny rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, she found her key and opened the door, angry because her hand was trembling. She stormed inside, tossed the purse onto the bed, and went to the vanity, where she angrily poured a glass of red wine.
02/2308—Bangkok, Thailand
Bear Stewart
The Bear heard it on the radio, threw on his pants, and hurried over to Benny's room. He knocked lightly, so as not to disturb his friend if he was in there consoling Liz. Whoo-ee, had she been mad!
He called Benny's name.
"Yeah?" called Benny. He was awake.
"The war's back on," called the Bear.
Benny padded to the door and let him in. He was alone. The Bear went to the bedside clock-radio and tuned to the Armed Forces Radio station. A few minutes later the announcement was repeated, and they both grinned as they listened.
F-4's had entered North Vietnam, flying at the same altitudes and airspeeds as the heavily laden Thuds, and had destroyed seven MiG's. They were calling it a MiG sweep.
They were exultant. "Shit hot!" whooped the Bear.
"We'd better get back to Takhli," said Benny anxiously.
The Bear shrugged and indicated the radio, his smile drooping. "Listen."
The announcer said that despite the day's successful air missions, the bombing ban was being extended in the hope the North Vietnamese would reconsider the president's terms for negotiation.
The Bear made disparaging remarks about politicians, not excluding his commander in chief.
"We'd better get back anyway, Bear," said Benny. "Maybe the ban will be lifted right away."
"You got more faith than I do, old buddy," said the Bear.
"Julie's leaving. What's holding you?"
Julie was joining a Pan Am crew that needed a junior stewardess on the morning Tokyo run.
The Bear shrugged. "I've got a friend stationed at Seventh Air Force Headquarters who'll be in town tomorrow. He wants to get together so he can pass something on. Says it's pretty sensitive information, so he's set up a secure room at the embassy."
"Then I suppose you'd better stay," said Benny.
The Bear didn't really want to delve, but Benny had been acting strange, like he had in the Philippines.
"What's with you and Liz?" he asked. "Up until tonight she was giving you the big come-on, and you were acting cool as hell." Liz planned to take a series of deadhead flights back but had made it clear that she could stay if Benny wanted to spend an extra day.
"You know something, Bear. They
even have the same name."
"Who?" he asked, but he knew.
"Bets and Liz. Elizabeth, even spelled the same way. When you guys walked in on us the other night, she went half berserk, yelling for me to get out, just like Bets would have." He shook his head angrily. "Then she started playing games to make up, like Bets used to do."
The Bear was quiet, thinking a lot of women would get excited if people walked in while she was bareass with a man.
"She damn near asked for my pedigree papers.
"Julie says she was raised like that. Well-to-do family with old money. She says Liz can be a jerk, but she thinks you're doing a great job turning her into an American."
"She'll have to do it by herself. I'm going back to Takhli."
"It's your call," the Bear said.
"You seem to be getting along well with Julie."
The Bear nodded. "Nice kid."
"She's awfully serious, Bear."
The Bear nodded again, not knowing what to say. He knew Julie was serious, but he hadn't made the slightest attempt to extricate himself. He knew he should make a move soon, because he didn't want to hurt her. He wished his mind was clearer about it all.
"I'd better get on back," he said. "Just thought you'd want to know about the F-4 MiG sweep."
He went back down the hall and let himself in.
Julie was sitting up in the bed, her breasts covered modestly. "Was he alone?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "Things aren't good with those two."
He looked at her and saw again the wondrous expression on her face. Emotion stirred in his gut, like a knife twisting there. He had to make a move to let her down gently.
She held her arms out to him, and the sheet fell away. He stood for a moment, savoring the sight before he turned off the light.
03/0845—Bangkok, Thailand
When Julie left on the Pan Am crew bus the next morning, the Bear stood outside in the heat, watching her wave until the bus turned the corner. He watched a bit longer, then returned to the hotel lobby deep in thought, only to run squarely into Liz Richardson.
"Excuse me," he said.
She regarded him evenly. It was obvious she had been waiting for the others to leave. "It's time we talked," she said.
