happy again soon.’ He paused. ‘Now how about that glass of
wine? Will you pour for both of us?’
In his office in City Hall, District Attorney Hoyt Lewis, conscious of the Reverend Scrafield’s tense presence across the desk from him, still made an effort to skim the photocopy of Hunter’s log a second time.
The journal that Hunter had kept of his exercises with Gayle Miller was meticulous in every detail, and when Lewis had finished his hasty second reading he was basically satisfied with the report. Nevertheless, he gave himself a half minute to ponder every aspect of the evidence.
But Scrafield, opposite him, was finding it difficult to contain his own eagerness to proceed. ‘Hoyt,’ he demanded, ‘tell me what you think. It’s all there just like I told you, isn’t it?’
T think so,’ said Lewis.
‘Is anything bothering you?’
‘Not really. Perhaps one thing.’ Lewis dropped the photocopy of Hunter’s journal on his desk. ‘What Hunter refers to here as “penetration”. It hasn’t happened yet. When you depend on one witness, you want everything as explicit as possible.’
Scrafield was impatient. T told you, you don’t have to worry. Chet Hunter assures me he’ll be humping Gayle tomorrow. He guarantees it, and will report to us personally when it’s happened.’
District Attorney Lewis scratched his nose, lost in thought, and his head made a motion of assent. ‘Yes, Hunter appears reliable enough. I had him checked out again. His record as a member of the police reserve is perfectly clean and he’s well motivated to come through, according to Ferguson over at the Chronicle. But
what’s keeping him from screwing the lady? That’s not the worst assignment in the world.’
‘All in due time, Hoyt. He’s got to follow their rules, that’s all. Don’t upset yourself. He’ll come through. You can’ bet on that.’
Hoyt Lewis sat up. T intend to bet on that.’
‘What’s the next step?’ Scrafield wanted to know. ‘How are you going to proceed?’
‘The usual way. I’ll start with a press release - notify Ferguson what my office plans to do … tell him I’m readying a criminal complaint against Dr Arnold Freeberg for pandering.’
‘What about Gayle Miller?’
‘Not yet, not until she’s actually committed her act of prostitution. But we already have sufficient evidence to announce the forthcoming complaint against Freeberg on the pandering charge. So the first announcement will concern Freeberg alone.’
‘Can I make it the subject of my broadcast tomorrow night?’ asked the Reverend Scrafield eagerly.
‘No objection, as long as you confine any fire and brimstone to what’s contained in my announcement.’
‘When can I mention the prostitute?’
‘As soon as Hunter scores with her,’ Lewis promised. ‘That’ll be immediately after tomorrow. Then I’ll proceed against them jointly, issue arrest warrants against Freeberg for a felony and against the Miller woman for a misdemeanour. I’ll have them brought over to the jail to be booked and their bail set, and have them arraigned before a judge in forty-eight hours.’
Scrafield was smiling. ‘And then what?’
Hoyt Lewis also smiled. ‘Then they go to trial, and both wind up out of business and in the slammer.’
‘And you’ll wind up on every front page,’ said Scrafield, grinning.
‘And so will you, my friend,’ said Lewis, standing. ‘If Freeberg and Gayle Miller do their part, we’ll do our part. It’s in the bag, I promise you.’
Nine
‘Gayle,’ he asked, ‘is this exercise my graduation?’
Adam Demski and Gayle were nude in her therapy room, seated beside one another on the edge of her floor mat.
‘It could be,’ Gayle replied. ‘I expect it will be.’
‘If I rise to the occasion,’ Demski said with amusement.
‘You’ll rise to it,’ Gayle promised.
Observing him, she liked what she saw, contrasting his demeanour with the rigid, frightened person she had first laid eyes on a few weeks ago. Beside her was a young man who appeared confident, and relaxed enough to make jokes and to smile. His attitude pleased her, and she could not imagine that he would suffer a relapse into his old impotency.
‘Gayle,’ he said, taking her hand, ‘when we do penetration …’
‘Yes?’
‘I’d like to be on top this time.’
Gayle considered this, but only briefly. She decided that he was ready for the more usual position. That he would never consider himself a success until he could consummate sexual intercourse from the male superior position. The missionary position was the way of the world for most men, what they believed was expected of them.
Now Adam Demski wanted to prove, to himself, that he was ready to have a real encounter in the real world. That meant thrusting from the top. Success in that way would fully reinforce his new feeling of potency.
‘Of course,’ Gayle found herself saying, T see no problem.’
She wanted to add that there were many other positions that might be better for him, more comfortable for him, even more effective, with some future mate, but she did not want to confuse him at the moment. There would be time to discuss variations
when he met with Dr Freeberg and herself for their final talk.
Right now he wanted to prove himself in the popular male position, and she’d made up her mind to do everything possible to make it work for him.
‘Shall we begin, Adam?’
‘I want to.’
Gayle eased herself down on the mat, and Demski followed her. Then she swung her legs around, and adjusted her body until she was stretched out fully on her back. Immediately, he was on his knees on the mat hovering over her.
‘Not so fast, Adam,’ she cautioned him. T think we both could use some preliminary play. I want to lubricate naturally, and I want you to achieve a complete erection before penetrating me.’
‘Of course,’ Demski said, apologetically. ‘I guess I got a little eager.’
‘No hurry. Let’s enjoy every moment of this, from our foreplay to the climax.’
‘I’m for it,’ Demski agreed, dropping down next to her and stretching his body alongside hers.
‘Can we keep our eyes open?’ he inquired.
‘Whatever you like.’
‘I’d like.’
He snuggled close to Gayle and began brushing the tips of the fingers of his right hand across her forehead, around her eyes, across the bridge of her nose, and giving featherlike touches to her mouth and her lips.
Soon he reached her breasts, was stroking them gently, and leaning over to kiss her nipples.
She could feel his effectiveness. Uncontrollably she could feel her nipples stiffen and the moisture beginning to grow between her legs.
Then she became aware of something else against her thigh.
She glanced down between them and made out his small flaccid penis lifting towards a real erection.
She reached down and curled one hand around it as her other hand massaged his shoulders and back.
Suddenly, without a word spoken, Demski was on his knees above her.
The sensation was pleasure mingled with triumph as the head of his penis probed briefly and began to slide into her.
She could hear his heart as he began thrusting forward and backward. What surprised her was how strongly he had her impaled, and how steady and unremitting his thrusting was. Somehow, she had expected him to come to a quick orgasm, and then she realised she was confusing him with Chet Hunter. This had not been Demski’s problem, and it was not his problem now.
Glancing fleetingly at an end table clock, she saw that seven or eight minutes had passed since they had begun.
Still he was over her, going steadily, and involuntarily she found herself lifting and lowering her buttocks in rhythm with his.
It was going on and on, and she was beginning to think he was a retarded ejaculator who might n
ever come, or indeed that she might come before he did.
Then she heard a hoarse cry, and he was going at her wildly, and she knew he was climaxing.
As he stopped, and remained on his elbow panting, she caught the clock in the corner of her eye.
Twelve minutes.
Not bad. In fart, very good.
As he withdrew from her, his mouth had formed into a wide smile.
She reached up and brought his mouth down to her own and kissed him. And then she hugged him tightly, enjoying the perspiration on his face and body.
Happily, he whispered into her ear, ‘Well, teacher, do I graduate?’
‘Adam,’ she whispered back, ‘today you are a man, ready to go out and delight a population of receptive females. Yes, you graduate with honours.’
‘With honours?’
‘I’ll sign your report card. Look closely at my face and you’ll see what I gave you.’
‘What did you give me, teacher?’
‘An A-plus. Definitely. You’ll have the world at your feet. Congratulations!’
They were in the bedroom of Paul Brandon’s apartment.
‘Well,’ Nan Whitcomb said with a sigh, ‘I guess this is the last time.’ She was naked except for her nylon panties. She drew them down, and stepped out of them.
For a while she gazed down at her vaginal mound, and absently she began to smooth her curly pubic hair as she seemed lost in thought.
She raised her head to take in Brandon, who was still undressing.
She spoke. ‘I want to say one thing, Paul, before we go on to the last time.’
‘Maybe it won’t be the last time, if it turns out you still have a problem.’
‘I don’t expect a problem, Paul. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be all right. But I want to say something else. I I’m ashamed of myself for giving you so much trouble.’
‘What trouble? You didn’t give me any really.’
‘Yes, I did. You’re being very sweet. But I did. Dr Freeberg was frank about it. Quite open, thank God.’ She paused. ‘You know he talked to me about our relationship.’
Brandon nodded, taking off his trousers.
Nan went on, ‘Dr Freeberg was right to speak to me about what was happening, to show me how I was putting you on the spot. He brought me to my senses.’ She stared wistfully at Brandon’s naked body. ‘It’s true I was foolish. I did sort of fall in love with you. I couldn’t help it. I did give you a terrible time, when you were only doing a job, a professional job to cure me.’
‘Don’t be harsh with yourself, Nan,’ Brandon broke in. ‘It wasn’t a one-way street. I can see now that I got emotionally involved with you, too, maybe unconsciously encouraged your love. I shouldn’t have. It was unprofessional of me.’ He reached out for her hand. ‘I want you to know that I really did - and do care for you, even as I tried to guide you.’
She pulled him toward her. ‘You’re the kindest man I’ve ever known.’ She smiled wryly. ‘True, I haven’t known many, and those I did know were all downers, until I met you.’ She took his face in her hands and kissed him. ‘I won’t say I love you anymore, but I do love you. The difference is that I’ve faced the fact that it’ll be over.’
He returned her kiss, running his fingers across her cheek. ‘You’ll do better from now on, much better,’ he promised her.
‘At least, I’ll know what to look for someone kind and caring and intelligent just like you.’ She rubbed her body against his. ‘But since I have you here now, why don’t we go ahead and enjoy
the last time?’ She tightened her hold on his hand. T want to prove to you that I’m ready.’ With her free hand she touched his rigid erection. ‘I know you are.’
‘I certainly am …’
He led her to the bed, and when she was supine, he climbed on after her, and rose above her.
Nan raised her knees. Her legs were apart.
Brandon lowered himself between them, and slowly, slowly entered her.
He did not have to inquire whether she felt any pain. Her grateful expression told him all he needed to know. There was no longer any pain. There was only pleasure.
‘Oh, my,’ she choked out once as he continued to thrust inside her.
At last she reached up to hold on to him. Her face contorted and he could feel she was in the throes of orgasm, and he let go, too.
After an interval, he withdrew and dropped down on the bed beside her. He could see from the motion of her hips she wanted more relief. He reached for the bud of her clitoris and passed his fingertips back and forth over it. Quickly, she had her second orgasm, and soon after, she had her third. And then she lay there inert, spent.
After a while, she turned her head toward him. ‘Was I OK?’
‘Perfect.’
‘You were delicious. Thank you for making me able to say that.’
They lay quietly, and then because of his genuine concern, Brandon asked her, ‘What are you going to do next, Nan?’
She thought about it briefly. ‘I think I’ll leave town. I don’t want to stay here and risk running into Tony Zecca again. Maybe I’ll go to the Midwest. I have a cousin in Des Moines. Another in Chicago. Wherever I go, I’ll find a way to support myself, any job, and I’ll use what extra money I have to take a secretarial course on the side. That should help me find better work, and maybe help me meet somebody as nice as you. What do you think, Paul?’
‘That’s a fine idea. But don’t leave immediately. Dr Freeberg would like us to join him for dinner the day after tomorrow. It’s his custom whenever his patients and their surrogates have concluded their exercises successfully. Will you come along?’
Til be there. And Paul, Dr Freeberg told me you had your own personal life to live. I’d like to meet her.’
It was early evening in Gayle’s therapy room.
Gayle, stripped down, fell back on the couch, waiting for Chet Hunter, watching him divest himself of the last of his clothes.
‘Did you do your homework?’ she asked.
‘With dedication,’ he said.
‘How do you feel?’
‘Like I can make it,’ he said.
‘You did make it last time,’ she reminded him. ‘We had penetration.’
‘Not by my book, sweetie. You were on top, treating me like a fragile object. You managed to get me in you, sure, but not for very long less than a minute maybe - ’
‘More than that,’ Gayle assured him.
‘Whatever. I’m afraid I was still premature. You want me to hold back five minutes - ’
‘Ten, Chet, I said ten minutes.’
‘Well, I don’t know. Maybe.’ He approached the couch, and his countenance was drawn and serious. ‘Gayle, I’ve got to make it work. There’s too much at stake for me. You know I have a girlfriend. I’m crazy about her. I want to be with her and be married to her. I can’t until I’m cured. Do you think I’m cured?’
Gayle bobbed her head in assent. T think you will be, after tonight.’
‘What happens tonight?’
‘Your valedictory performance.’
T thought I’m not supposed to perform.’
‘You won’t actually be performing. You’ll just have a good time, Chet, maybe a memorable one.’
‘Doing what?’
‘You know what. Penetration the way you’ve always wanted it. Male superior position and you engaging in complete intercourse. I may have to hold you back once or twice, and squeeze, but we’ll keep going until we’re both satisfied.’
As he listened, she could see his excitement growing.
‘I’m starting to feel like it, Gayle.’
She lowered herself to the mat on the floor. ‘Come here, Chet. Lie down with me.’
‘But I’m ready. You can see.’
‘Not so fast, Chet. We’re not getting this over with fast. We’re going to take our time, build up the pleasure, and when we’re both ready I’ll let you know. Now lie down next to me and let’s relax with some pre
liminary touching.’
‘If you say so,’ he complained, settling down on the mat.
‘I say so. Your partner knows best.’
Hunter stretched out beside her. ‘Hi, partner,’ he said. ‘I’m really ready to go.’
‘I know. But don’t. Take your mind off your penis and concentrate on sensuality all over. Stroke me. After that, I’ll stroke you.’
Hunter grunted and began to move his fingers across every expanse and nook of her body. He was soon absorbed in caressing her, and taking pleasure in her reactions.
‘You’re something,’ he said. ‘You’re great. I can’t get any bigger down there.’
‘You don’t have to. And please forget your penis. Now let me touch you.’
As she ran her hands about his face and abdomen, he became less urgent and he began to emit soft sighs of pleasure.
‘I need you, Gayle,’ he whispered, trying to control his breathing.
‘What are you waiting for?’ she asked.
He was over her.
A moment’s hesitation as his penis slid inside her. There was no ejaculation.
Automatically, he began moving up and down inside her.
‘Slowly,’ she said, ‘slowly. Very good, Chet. Do you feel like coming?’
‘Not - not yet.’
She felt like grasping his buttocks, and assisting him, but she did not want to overexcite him. She rested her palms on his shoulders.
‘Good, very good,’ she repeated.
‘The hell it’s good,’ he exalted. ‘It’s great!’ He began thrusting faster and harder. Gradually, she could see his face growing strained.
‘What is it, Chet?’
‘I’m afraid ’
She twisted loose from him, grabbed hold of his moist penis head, and using her forefinger and middle finger on top, and thumb on the side, she squeezed firmly.
Oh, Christ, I want to …’
‘Never mind. You will, you will.’
She squeezed again, until he’d gone limp.
With a peek at the clock, she concentrated on him once more, settling him back and playing her fingers over him.
She could feel his penis beginning to fill once more. It was swelling and rising. It was upright.
‘Now enter me again,’ she said, and directed his erection inside her once more.
(1987) The Celestial Bed Page 24
