“No.”
“Okay, I'll see you then.”
I started out the door. “Wait, Terry,” she said. “I want to go with you.” She got up and slipped on her panties, again asking me to fasten the bra. I didn't have any trouble with it this time.
We went down the back stairs and out a side door to avoid the crowd. I also decided it would be better now if Sandy weren't to see me with Kitty like this. Something about the flush of her skin, the glow, and the easy, abandoned way she wore, or nearly wore, her bikini gave everything away.
I also felt guilty. While Sandy was burning with unsatisfied desire I was living it up with a hot little number I didn't care a damn about, and who didn't even satisfy me-at least not the first time. Maybe it would be better later.
We reached the water's edge, and before I could even suggest it, Kitty had stripped off her bikini and dove into the water. I divested myself of my briefs and dove in after her.
She was a good swimmer, and it took me a dozen strokes to catch up with her. At last, I grabbed her smooth, struggling body from behind, one arm around her breasts and one at her thighs. I spun her around. She locked my buttocks with her legs in a scissorlike grip that pushed and rubbed our genitals together.
Without further ado I pushed up into her. Her leglock tightened and she began to move with me, digging her fingers into my back.
My mind was wandering. I wasn't interested in this girl except as a receptacle. She was a pretty, sensual receptacle, but I didn't really care what she was like as long as she rubbed me the right way in the right place, as she now was doing so ably.
I thought of Sandy and how it had been with her. Unadulterated joy, pure concentration, the flow of love. No fantasies, no mental tricks, no nostalgic evocations.
I wanted to get this over with quick and get back to Sandy.
So I thrust savagely away at her, feeling her body start to quake and listening to her moan and gasp as she reached her long-awaited climax. One more thrust, three in a row, two more and-boom — I was home.
I withdrew and floated away.
“Do you like me?” Kitty asked, swimming up to me and running her hand up and down my chest.
“Sure.”
“I wish you had come over earlier in the sum- mer. It's almost over now. All those guys around here-the ones up at the party-are such a bunch of drips! They're scared to do anything.”
“Maybe they think you're too young.”
“You don't, do you?”
“How could I?” I said. “Look, we better get back in. They're probably talking about us already.”
“Let them.”
“I have to take care of my sister. I'm her chaperone.”
“That's all you think about is your sister.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“Nothing, I guess,” she said.
I started swimming back in toward shore with Kitty alongside. We emerged dripping from the lake, put on our suits and then hopped back in to wet them and make it look as though we'd actually worn them.
Then we joined the party on the patio. Kitty's body, in and out of the bikini, caused a mild sensation. A crowd of young admirers formed around her and I was able to search for Sandy.
She was nowhere to be seen on the patio. I moved inside, where the older people were getting smashed. I felt slightly out of place in my wet, clinging jockstrap-sized bathing suit, among the blazers and blazing summer dresses, but none of the drunks seemed to take notice.
Sandy was sitting on a sofa, talking to Madge Kimberly, a friend of Mother's. She spotted me, grinned, excused herself and joined me.
“Hi! How was your swim?”
“Okay,” I muttered, looking down guiltily. “Where's Mom?”
“In the kitchen, completely looped, ready to pass out. She's been talking about her divorce for the last hour. Every dirt disher in town is taking notes.”
“I better go up and change. You want to come with me?”
“Yes.”
We mounted the stairs and entered Kitty's room.
“Oh, you changed in here,” she said, unbuttoning her blouse. She noticed Kitty's panties on the floor and picked them up with forefinger and thumb. “And changed together. Must have put on quite a show.”
“No, she went into the bathroom.”
“Ah, you don't have to kid me, Terry,” she said playfully as she pulled off her blouse. “How was she? Did you make it with her here, or in the water?”
I laughed, relieved, and blurted out: “Both. She wasn't much good, though. She doesn't compare to you.”
Her face dropped a mile. She turned red as boiled crab and hot tears collected and burst from her eyes. I stepped toward her, wanting to cut out my tongue, to go back and unsay what I had said, undo what I had done.
WHACK! Her hand cracked across my face with full force and full venom.
“Sandy, please, I thought you…”
“You thought I what? You thought I was serious? You thought I took it for granted you'd jump into the first cunt you run into, and joke about it?”
“I don't know. I wasn't even serious about it. That's why I blurted it out. It just happened. It didn't mean anything. She teased me and practically forced me into it. I didn't even kiss her. I wasn't even nice to her.”
“The last part I can believe. That's you, all the way. Love 'em and leave 'em.”
We went on this way for a long while, with Sandy doing most of the talking. How could I explain? I felt stupid, guilty, horrible, disgusting, untrue, unfaithful, unloving, unloved anymore, lost, helpless and, after she had slapped me again and stomped out, utterly alone.
I dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. Mother had passed out. Sandy had gotten a couple of men to carry her to the car. They put her in the, back seat. I got the car keys from her purse and drove off, with Sandy sitting in the front with me, as far over on the other side as she could get.
I tried desperately to think of something to say, could think of nothing. We passed the ride in stony silence.
Once home, we helped Mother up the stairs. Sandy undressed her and put her to bed.
When she had finished she came back in her own room. I was waiting for her.
ELEVEN
“What the hell do you want now?” she asked.
“You.”
“You had me. I've been had. You're nothing but an alleycat, Terry. The only reason you made love to me was because I was here. If you'd been here alone with Mommy, you'd probably have made it with her. Or for that matter, with Daddy.”
“Don't say that, Sandy.”
“It's been said. You'd probably fuck anything with a hole in it.”
“It was a mistake, Sandy. You know how worked up I've been the last week. I've been walking around with a hard-on for you all day every day, going to sleep with one at night even if I jerk off, and waking up with one in the morning, stiffer than ever.”
“That just proves what I've been saying. You've got some kind of a constitutional defect. You're a sex maniac.”
“It doesn't prove anything, except that I'm in love with you in a way that's driving me crazy. If you want to call that being a sex maniac, go ahead. I was never like that until we started making it together. I'll never be able to get enough of you- and if I have to go for a week, and some little drip comes along…”
“It only proves you've got satyriasis.”
“What's that?”
“A male nympho.”
“Well, if I have it, you gave it to me.”
“You can keep it.”
“She just walked in on me, Sandy. I wasn't wearing anything and I had a hard-on as usual, which I got from sitting next to you in the car on the way over. It was sticking out like a flagpole. She had on half a bikini and wanted me to put the bra on her tits. When I started to, she dropped it and when I called her a tease, she took off everything and spread her legs out on the bed. I couldn't help myself. I wanted you so much, and I didn't think. I'm so weak, Sandy.”