“This is the ladies’ room!” Clytemnestra punctuated her point.
“Well, naturally.” Penny was still confused at the blonde girl’s reaction.
“You are really too impetuous.” Clytemnestra raised her skirt demurely and smoothed a stocking the length of one shapely leg. “But as long as you’re here anyway . . .” The fleshiness of her thigh quivered slightly and her blue eyes sparkled invitingly behind her rimless glasses.
“Yes. Well . . . That’s what I came for.” Penny started for one of the booths.
Clytemnestra misinterpreted the movement and took a few steps to meet Penny halfway. The maneuver blocked Penny’s way. Clytemnestra’s small, high breasts poked impertinently against Penny’s chest and her warm breath was like an erotic breeze tantalizing Penny’s nostrils. “Well?” she murmured. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
“I’m really in a hurry.” Penny was positively dizzy now. “I really came in to-—”
“You can’t be in that much of a hurry. You never are.” Clytemnestra wrapped her arms around Penny’s neck and delivered a long, deep kiss.
It was at this point, during the prolonged osculation, that Penny noted certain things about masculine plumbing. For one thing, as the kiss raised the temperature, the urgency which had led Penny to the ladies’ room waned rapidly. For another, a quite different feeling of physical pressure replaced it. The feelings were identically localized, both resulted in a certain tumescence, but where the first had urged Penny to a solitary and strictly functional release, the second seemed more tandem-directed. True, it might have been relieved solitarily, but with Clytemnestra so extremely available, duality felt much more natural.
“My goodness!” Clytemnestra rasped. “The way you’re hanging onto me, you’d think you never made love to a woman before.”
“I never have,” Penny told her, both hands grasping C1ytemnestra’s buttocks and squeezing so that the girl was forced to grind her body against Penny’s. It seemed to relieve the feeling-—and then again it didn’t. It was like trying to scratch an itch and the more you scratch, the more you itch. Add one more fact to Penny’s lore concerning what it meant to be a man.
“This is crazy!” Clytemnestra’s actions belied her protestations. “Suppose one of the girls comes in and catches us?” Her sharp little teeth assaulted Penny’s earlobe. “It would be an office scandal!” Her nails dug into Penny’s hand and forced it under her blouse and beneath the tight bra until it palmed the burning nipple of her upthrust left breast. “Mr. Fuller would be furious!” she panted, her hands dropping now to tug at the zipper of Penny’s pants. Her fleshy thighs were rigid now, her long legs spaced wide apart, small, trim derriere clenched tight and arching to press her quivering womanhood against the throbbing target the zipper had freed. “He’d fire both of us,” she moaned, her hands tugging at her ample hips to hike up the tight skirt stretched across them. “Hurry up! Before we get caught!” Clytemnestra pushed her panties down and leaned against the wall, arching her back. Her usually tightly coiffed blond hair was in disarray now. Her eyes were wild and uncaring. The blond triangle of nether curls she had bared was pulsating with desire. She grasped Penny with both hands. The small straining red arrow of her passion pointed the way through the golden down to the tight sheath waiting for the dagger to be plunged. Then, in one quick, convulsive motion, she buried Penny’s dagger to the hilt.
Penny was inexperienced, but an eager follower in the vertical contortions which followed. When Clytemnestra gave a little jump and locked her knees around Penny’s hips, Penny automatically grasped her buttocks to support her. Clytemnestra, hands clasped around Penny’s neck, writhed with such urgency that Penny was propelled across the lavatory and up against the opposite wall. Braced there, Penny thrust back and Clytemnestra squealed ecstatically. A few moments of this and then the passion of both broke simultaneously with a force that sent them spinning around for a long, dizzying moment and finally dropped them to the floor where they prolonged the contact to the last thrilling tremor.
Finally they broke apart and lay there struggling to get their breath. Clytemnestra was the first to recover. “That was the wildest! Absolutely the wildest!” she exulted—“I feel just great! How do you feel?”
“I feel like a new man!” Penny said truthfully and accurately.
“You look like a new man too. I don’t know what it is, but-—” Clytemnestra snapped her fingers. “It’s your moustache! It’s gone! You shaved it off!”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that amazing? I didn’t even notice it until just now.”
“Well, you were busy. You had your mind on other things.”
“I sure did!” Clytemnestra giggled. “Why did you shave it off?”
“Just a slip of the wrist.”
“Well,” she looked at him archly, “it sure has made a difference.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s made you more aggressive. I mean, sure, you’ve made passes before, but you never--I mean, you practically raped me.”
“I did no such thing!” Penny was indignant. After all Penny had been a woman long enough to know a typical bit of feminine buckpassing when it was attempted. “If anything, it was the other way around. You seduced me.”
“That’s not very gentlemanly,” Clytemnestra sniffed.
“But it’s the truth. I just came in here to go to the bathroom, and you--”
“Oh, come on now!” Clytemnestra was indignant. “Why would you use the ladies’ john? You came in here because you knew I was here. You got in late, so you missed me in the stockroom. I don’t mind, but don’t pretend you didn’t come in here to make love to me!”
“That’s ridiculous! Why would I go into the ladies’ room to do a thing like that?”
“Why would you go into the ladies’ room at all?” Clytemnestra countered. “The way I see it, you just made up your mind to go all the way. After all, we never did it before. So what other explanation is there?”
“Call it fate.” Penny sighed. It was all getting to be too much.
“What kind of an answer—” Clytemnestra broke off at the sound of the handle being turned to the door of the ladies’ room. “Ohmigod!” she hissed. “We can’t let them find us here Come on! Quick!” She dragged Penny into one of the stalls and bolted the door behind them. “Stand up on the seat and bend over,” she instructed, whispering urgently.
“Huh? Why?”
“Those men’s shoes would be a dead giveaway. This way they won’t be able to see you over the top of the stall or under the bottom. Hurry up!” When Penny had complied, Clytemnestra sat on the seat between Penny’s legs and gripped them. “Shh!” she cautioned as the door of the ladies’ room squeaked shut.
“Here, Shirley, try to sit down.” The girl’s voice, solicitous.
“Oh, I could die! I could just die!” A second female voice, higher-pitched and sobbing. “All those people! Strangers! Detectives! Policemen! Marilyn, I could just die!”
“There, there, Shirley, get hold of yourself. With all the excitement, I don’t think anybody really noticed.”
“Not notice! How could they not notice‘? Oh! I’ve never been so mortified in my entire life!”
“You’re just embarrassed is all it is, Shirley. Now just try to get your perspective back. You’ll feel better once you can see the humor of the situation.”
“Humor! Oh, Marilyn, how can you say such a thing? There’s nothing humorous about it!”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Marilyn stifled a giggle. “If you could have seen yourself stretched out there on those bags of fertilizer with your girdle wrapped around your knees, trying to get up and falling over-well, I don’t want to be unkind, but there was something funny about it, Shirley. Now tell me how it happened.” Curiosity showed through the soothing tone.