"Let's stop at one more shop first," he said. "I want to get one of those black-velvet paintings with all the bright colors."
"For heaven's sake, Elliott," her mother snapped. "You can get your grotesque painting tonight. Look at Paula's face. Why, she's near heatstroke!"
"You are awfully red, sweetie," Elliott said. "Have you been standing right out in the sun? Stay here in the shade with her, Ruth. Let me get the air-conditioning going before you two get in the car."
When Elliott came from his shower, Ruth was standing beside the bed hooking her nylons to her garter belt. He stopped to watch the sensual scene. At thirty-five her body was even better than it had been when he'd married her sixteen years ago. And her face had mellowed rather than aged, making her a very beautiful woman indeed. Unlike most women her age, Ruth had no need for a bra. Elliott counted himself very fortunate to have married her, even though her sex drive was nowhere near as strong as his.
And his sex drive was beginning to make itself known. The light glinted off her very blonde and carefully coiffured hair as she bent to her task, her fingers popping the fasteners into place to hold her hose up snug around her long, shapely legs. In that position her pink-tipped breasts stood out from her body to best advantage, jiggling as she fussed to get everything just right.
All she had on at the moment was garter belt and hose. His cock coming to life, love for his beautiful wife welling up in his chest, Elliott sneaked up behind her. Being careful not to let his prick slip between her nude buttocks, because she didn't like that at all, he bent over her and cupped her tits, kissing her warm back and sighing.
She jerked, then ignored him and went on fixing her stockings to her garter belt.
"Ohh, how I love you!"
"I love you too, darling," she said coolly. "Get dressed."
"What's your rush? We've got all night. Come to bed and let's make love before we go out."
"I'm not in the mood, Elliott."
"It's been almost two weeks."
"I'm still not in the mood. This place upsets me. I don't like it here… and I don't like what we're going to do tonight."
Hurt, his cock wilting at once, he released her tits and stepped away. "You don't have to go with me, you know. Stay here if you'd rather."
"Oh, no," she sighed. "You'll be drinking much more than you're used to. I do have to go with you. I wouldn't want you doing anything foolish."
"Like what?" he asked tiredly, stepping into the fresh shorts she'd laid out for him.
"Hah!"
"Ruth, I'm a minister… remember?"
"You're also a man… remember? And booze and pretty young girls have a way of making some ministers we've known forget how to behave properly. Now I'm not saying you'd make an ass of yourself like George did, but with me along you're much less likely to get into anything you shouldn't."
"For crying out loud, Ruth!"
"I'm going!"
"All right!"
"I don't see why this nonsense is necessary, but I'm going."
"I'm writing a book on morals, dear… on vacation morals, how people differ in their moral outlook when they're away from home and job and family. Tonight is research, pure and simple. A border town is still a wicked place. I expect to get enough material tonight for at least one chapter… maybe two."
"Some research!"
Elliott jabbed his arm into the sleeve of his shirt.
"Going to filthy bars where girls strip and all."
"How else am I going to know what I'm writing about?"
"Can't you imagine what goes on in such places? Do you have to go see it for yourself before you can condemn it?"
"Yes, I can imagine what goes on; and yes, I have to go see if for myself. I've never written a book before, but I want mine to be factual and forceful… not full of hot-air sermons."
"All right, darling. I think I see your reasoning now," she said pleasantly, coming toward him with her panties on, turning and backing to him for him to hook her bra.
At nine, Elliott and Ruth were dressed to go out. Both were somewhat nervous about the evening ahead, though neither would admit it to the other. Ruth had never seen anything like the sensuality they were venturing into, and she would have preferred not to ever. But she couldn't allow Elliott – what with his strong drives and all – to do his border town research on his own. He was more than a minister, and she could imagine him drunk and carrying on in one of those dens of iniquity, the alcohol causing him to forget decency temporarily. Of course he would hate himself for it later, if such a thing should actually happen, because he was a very moral person. But with her going along, she reasoned, he would drink less and she could thereby save him any embarrassment and later guilt. She didn't know why he wanted to write that silly book anyway. They certainly didn't need the money he might make from it – not since he'd taken the big church he now pastored. But writing such a book had been on his mind for some years, and in a way she was relieved that at last he was going to do it and get it out of his system once and for all.
Elliott would have preferred to leave Ruth behind. He'd seen a bit of border town night life many years ago, before he'd ever thought of becoming a minister. He'd never been in Juarez, but he supposed it was somewhat like Nuevo Laredo, which he'd visited with three of his soldier buddies while stationed in Texas. He would rather have spared his wife an evening he knew could only make her upset and uncomfortable. But she was adamant in her insistence on going with him to keep him out of the "foolishness" he was certain he wouldn't get into anyway. On the other hand, he admitted to himself as they went into Paula's room to tell her good night, Ruth's reaction might be useful to his book since she was a God-fearing woman and would be seeing such licentiousness for the first time. But at any rate she insisted on going, and it was easier to take her along than cause hard feelings and suspicions.
Elliott knocked on the door between their connecting rooms.
"It isn't locked. Come on in," Paula called, pulling the cover over her because she had on her shortie nightgown.
"We're leaving now, sweetie," Elliott told her, crossing to her bed to kiss her good night. "It'll probably be late when we get back. Don't try to wait up for us, okay?"
"I won't, Daddy. I'm going to watch TV for a while though. I can't understand a word they're saying, but the Mexican station fascinates me just the same."
"You can get the El Paso stations too, you know," Ruth said, moving to offer her cheek for Paula to kiss, so she wouldn't smear her carefully applied lipstick.
"Mother, you look absolutely beautiful! Doesn't she, Daddy?"
"She always looks beautiful," Elliott said, smiling at Ruth.
"Well, I think you look extra lovely tonight, Mother."
"Thank you, Paula. Don't stay up too late, now… and be sure to lock your door. Ours is already locked. You don't have to worry about anyone coming in through it."
"I hardly think she has anything to worry about in this motel, Ruth."
"You can't be too careful, Elliott. I want her to lock her door as soon as we leave."
"All right, Mother. I will. You and Daddy have a good time. Don't worry about me. I'm big enough to take care of myself for a few hours."
"A good time," Ruth muttered disdainfully to herself as she moved to the door.
"Good night, sweetie," Elliott said. "Pleasant dreams."
"Daddy," Paula called, stopping Elliott in the doorway. "Did I tell you how handsome you look?"
Elliott chuckled as he shut the door.
Still smiling at the faint embarrassment her compliment caused her father, Paula kicked back the covers and went to lock the door. When she climbed back on the bed to watch the Mexican TV program, she didn't bother to pull the cover over her again. The air-conditioning made the room quite pleasant but not at all chilly. She felt her mother was silly to worry about her being alone. The Juarez motel was new and plush, with the vast majority of the guests Americans like themselves. The few Mexicans she'd seen in the dining room were obviously from the better families. But of course she would have locked the door anyway. She always did lock the door at any motel – because it was sensible – but not out of fear.