Cecil had stumbled to the bathroom, let the door slam behind him then stared at his face in the mirror. His skin looked gray his lips trembled. What had he done? He sank onto the toilet seat, buried his face in his hands. Oh, Shirley! he'd moaned to himself, I didn't mean to hurt you! Oh, my sweet what have I done?
When he went back into the bedroom, she was asleep. Her tear – streaked face rested on her arm, a lock of tousled, auburn hair fell across her eyes. He had an irresistible urge to lift it, brush it away but he curbed it.
She was still wearing her clothes: the cute, little skirt was rumpled under the soft, warm thighs. She had drawn one knee up, and the sweet briefs that he had admired were stretched painfully across her crotch. Her blouse had twisted when she raised her arm and an errant button hung slackly on a single strand of thread.
Cecil felt a circle of pain around his heart and a dull ball of ice began to swell within his belly. All this! Shirley's soft innocence seemed to reproach him with every gentle rise and fall of her breasts. All this he had destroyed! He stumbled, as if he was drunk, when he moved away from the bedroom. He sat in the unused kitchen and stared in front of him. Not drinking coffee or liquor or even smoking… Just staring and thinking. It could have been so good!
When he went back, Shirley was in the same position. He hesitated, then moved to her bedside, sank down gently. She slept like an angel an untouched, lovable angel! His hand trembled when he unfastened the remaining buttons on her blouse then he slipped it gently off her shoulders, savoring the exquisite pleasure of the mere contact of her flesh against his arm as he raised her slightly. The rumpled skirt slid gently down skimming the gleaming thighs, caressing soft flesh and gliding over the silken legs as he raised each foot in turn, carefully, tenderly removing the tiny piece of cloth.
He turned her onto her side and she gave a small moan, but remained asleep and unfastened her brassiere, slipped it off then placed her on her back, feasted his eyes on the perfect breasts with their pink, virginal nipples… A trickle of saliva slid from the comer of his mouth. Oh, my God! he moaned. How he longed to kiss them! But he didn't!
He dragged the tiny briefs down lightly, baring the delicious patch of auburn hairs then, unable to withstand the temptation, he muzzled the warm triangle with his mouth and lips so very, very lightly. The smooth silk rolled down her legs and he drew back the sheets, eased the small body between them, then covered it with gentle hands, loving hands. He'd never known he could be so tender! He felt lightheaded. Just the nearness of her intoxicated him.
Cecil leaned over Shirley, kissed her lightly on the forehead, then he went to his own bed. He undressed, save for the brassiere and the special briefs, which he retained like an armored shield. Before he turned off the lights, he took a last glance at Shirley's face… She seemed to be smiling as she slept.
"Good morning, Cecile." The lisped words reached his ears, waking him, then reminding him. He jerked his body, clutched the sheets to his neck. Why did she speak to him? She hated him she must hate him after after what she thought. His hand moved over his body stealthily. The brassiere was in place the panties, his precious defense, were intact.
Shirley smiled down at him. "You must be tired," she said sweetly, "I've brought you coffee." She placed the cup on the bedside table, then sank down beside him. Her eyes smiled warmly into his. He didn't understand… until she spoke again: "I was awake last night," she leaned close to his face and whispered the words, "when you undressed me!" Her cheeks flushed brightly… they were almost as bright as the eyes that caressed him when he asked: "Why didn't you stop me? I thought you were asleep!"
She shook her head, wetness glistened in her eyes. "I I thought you'd be be uncomfortable. I I thought " she placed her finger on his lips and when he stopped his stammered explanation, she murmured: "I thought you hated me but " her eyes lit up again, "when you undressed me so so sweetly then kissed me here " and she pointed to her forehead with a tiny finger, "I knew you didn't hate me."
"Of course I didn't hate you," he said, hoarsely.
She laughed, softly happily. "You you kissed me… here, too." Her cheeks flushed a deeper red, then she unfastened the terry robe that she wore, drew it back. She was naked beneath. "Here," she repeated, touching the light thatch of delicate hair. "You stroked me with your cheek here " and her hand touched her small, rounded belly, stroked it gently.
"Yes," he hissed.
"You you don't hate me?" she asked with a tremor in her voice.
"No," he gasped, "Oh, Shirley, I don't hate you!" He pulled her face down to his. "Can I I kiss you?" His eyes smiled into hers, then he added: "I'm not a lesbo I just like you " and she blushed again, remembering her words of the night before.
She leaned down, touched his lips with hers then her body tensed when his tongue thrust out, reached into her mouth. She drew back with a small gasp then she panted: "I didn't know girls could kiss like that unless… unless… "
He smiled at her. "Unless they're lesbos?" he asked.
"Yes," she panted, her eyes serious.
"Didn't you like it?" he asked, suddenly terribly afraid.
She dropped her eyes, then the whispered word came out. "Oh, yes, Cecile I liked it so much Cecile don't get mad, please don*t get mad, Cecile. I I love you!" Then the tears streamed from her eyes until Cecil drew her face to his again and kissed her until she had no breath for tears or doubts or fears.
"I love you, too, Shirley," he murmured, feeling a tingling sensation deep within his body as he said the words for the first time.
Her eyes lighted up then the small, auburn – haired girl smothered Cecil's face with kisses.
His hand slid out, touched the warm thighs slipped up, felt soft wetness. "I’ll kiss you here," he promised her, "tonight!"
Her body tensed, then trembled. "Oh, Cecile oh, Cecile " she moaned, "Don't ever leave me do anything you want but please, don't ever leave me!"
"I won't leave you," he murmured, nuzzling his face in her hair, "I'll love you."
"And kiss me?" she asked.
"Kiss you," he promised.
"Here?" She took his hand, pressed it against her, between the soft thighs and higher. The tiny lips were moist, warm, and ready.
"Here," he promised, touching the tip of a rising, reaching clitoris.
"Tonight," she mouthed, rubbing her face against his, "Oh, hurry tonight!" And the shivers ran uncontrollably through her flesh.
The papers on his desk blurred before Cecil's eyes as he remembered. He had a feeling that he was being watched. He jerked his head, stared across the room… Shirley's blue eyes were beaming a message to him… He saw her lips move, forming a soundless word. He watched her mouth closely. "Tonight," she was saying… He smiled, nodded his head – and Shirley's lips began to quiver and her thighs squeezed together with an intolerable tightness.
Chapter 20
Cecil had phoned home, talking to his mother and Alma and Blanche but not Donna telling them that he was all right, that he had a job, a place to live, and that everything was all right. He had been at Benny's then, just a week after he'd started at Shires and he'd given his mother an address, a post office address near Benny's, where she could write to him… if she wanted to… if she needed to…
His mother had asked him to come home, tearfully, pleadingly and he'd tried to remember if his mother had ever pleaded with him before. But he'd refused, sadly but firmly telling her it was better this way… Better for her and the girls and better for him, too.