“Well, y-yes. There w-w-was.”
“And everybody in the office was in on it but me. Right?"
“N-no. Not quite everybody.”
“Oh, come on now! Who was left out? Everybody from the office boy to the publisher was in on it. What did they do? Exclude the janitor? What have they got against him?”
“Not the janitor. I m-mean, I d-don’t know about him. But they excluded m-me.”
“You! Then what the hell are you doing up here?”
“I r-really came up because you w-were sick and I wanted to s-see how you w-w-were,” Cal told her miserably.
“You mean you weren’t in on the lottery?”
“N-No.”
“But you knew about it!”
“Y-Yes.”
“And you didn’t warn me! That makes you just as bad as the rest of them!”
“I g-guess so. I’m s-s-sorry.”
“Well, maybe not quite as bad.” Llona relented. “How come you weren’t in on it?”
“They wouldu’t l-let me. They said I was the office v-v-virgin and they made f-fun of me and said I wouldn’t stand a ch-ch-chance.”
“Oh, they did, did they!” Llona was mad all over again. She’d thought she was getting even for the scheme, and here her victim wasn’t even in on it. Her mind took a ZAP!-turn and she suddenly saw herself and Cal in the same boat. Both of them had been made fools of by the Nymph staff. “Well, we’ll show them!” she told Cal through clenched teeth.
“W-What do you in-mean?”
“You just sit right back down on this couch.” Llona disappeared in the bedroom for a moment. When she returned, Cal was perched where she’d told him to sit.
“Here.” She handed him a pair of Nymph engraved panties. “Stick these in your pocket.”
“I d-don’t get it.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You do get it! Which is more than any of those other bums can say. The panties are your proof. That’s how the lottery was set up, isn’t it?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Okay. I’m giving them to you so they’ll all know you scored where they couldn’t.”
“B-but, I haven’t--”
“But you will, baby. You will.” Llona knelt beside him again. Her hands and mouth were very busy for a few minutes. “There we are,” she said finally. “All ready now.” She patted him, drew him to his feet and lay down on the couch. “We’ll show those bastards!” she told holding up her arms. “That’s it, lover!” Her knees locked; around his hips as he clambered over her. “Sock it to me; baby! Sock it to me so they’ll know what they missed! Now! Now!”
Cal had never been more ready. He scrambled forward eagerly. Llona grasped him, guiding
Revenge is sweet! And some revenges are sweeter than others!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I’m s-s-sorry,” Cal Lowe stammered miserably.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” Llona patted his cheek. “It happens.”
“Yish!” Cal wiped his cheek with a handkerchief.
“Oops. Sorry. I should have washed my hands.” Llona went into the bathroom and the oversight. When she came back in she contemplated Cal. He looked like a whipped dog. “Now, come on,” she told him. “You’re getting all upset over nothing. It could happen to anybody.”
“It n-never happened to m-me before.” Cal sighed dejectedly.
“You were just overexcited. It happens to lots of men the first time. They even have a phrase for it in the medical books: ‘premature ejaculation.’”
“Yeah?” Cal looked puzzled. “I always thought that m-meant something grammatical.”
“Huh?” Now it was Llona who was bewildered.
“You know, I-like when you say ‘Whee!’ t-too soon.”
“Oh. Well, you’re not far off. It is sort of the same thing. Just a matter of timing.”
“I n-never thought it would h-happen to m-me.” Cal was still unhappy.
“It happens to lots of men the first This was the first time, wasn’t it?” Llona asked, although she knew the answer.
“Y-Yes.” Cal hung his head as if he’d made some terrible confession. The sin of innocence! There’s no repentance for uncommitted sins!
“Well--” Llona really felt bad for him. Something like this, she thought to herself, might color his whole future sex life; it could make him doubt his virility for who knew how long? (Llona had cut her teeth on romance stories and the cause-and-effect melodramatics had stayed with her.) She felt responsible and determined to bolster his sinking ego. “If you really want to look at it the right way,” she told him, “what happened only happened because you’re so damned young and virile.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“When you’re very young and very potent, you’re really all man and there’s no bothering with subtleties like control. When you’re ready, that’s it. Older men, or less erotic men—they can’t do what you did because they just plain don’t have the sexual strength any more. They may have great control -- but none of the spontaneity of good, healthy, young lust.” It wasn’t strictly true in Llona’s experience but she was more interested in building Cal’s self-image than in what was really only subjective truth anyway. “You’re a real stud, Cal, believe me. Before long now, you’ll be driving the girls clear out of their skulls.”
“Yeah?” Cal was perking up.
“Damn right!” Llona was firm.
“Still, you know how they’d l-laugh at me in the office if they knew w-what happened,” he reminded himself moodily.
“In the first place, not one of them has anything to gloat over. Believe me, as far as I’m concerned, you succeeded where they all failed. You’re just knocking yourself out over a technicality. And in the second place, they don’t have to know.” Llona thought about that for a few seconds. Yes, there was revenge to be had there as well as solace for Cal! Let them think he made it! Let them eat their hearts out, the stinkers! Let them eat their livers, one and all! “You have the Nymph panties,” she reminded him softly. “That was supposed to be the proof, wasn’t it? As for the rest, except for that technicality I mentioned, you made it where the rest of them failed. Hell, you were less than an inch away when --”
There was a lot more in that vein. The upshot of it was that by the time Cal left, he was believing himself that he’d made it with Llona, that he was one helluva guy, one helluva lover-boy. And the attitude carried over, was firmed up and arrogant when he walked into Raunch Rammer’s office that morning and displayed the Nymph panties to the office staff, who were also the participants in the office sex lottery.
“What would you like to know?” Cal had asked them, flaunting it, remembering how they’d teased him about his lack of manhood and refused to let him participate in the lottery. And the answer had been “Everything!”
“I don’t think I should cater to all of your -- umm -- voyeur tendencies,” Cal told them.
Raunch Rammer smiled to himself at the office boy's new manner. He was sure that Cal had indeed made it with Llona where the rest of them had failed, and he attributed the arrogance to that. Hell, the kid was entitled! “I think Cal should collect the purse by default,” he announced to the others.
There was some protest. Cal hadn’t been in on the lottery, it was pointed out. It wasn’t really fair.
“Maybe not,” Rammer granted. “But it’s just.” He followed up on the distinction. “Justice isn’t always fair,” he told them. “But certainly none of us is entitled to the pot. This kid here has given us our comeuppance. I say it’s his by right.”
And that’s how it was settled. Cal accepted it modestly, without giving a thought to the “technicality” involved. He was discarding his innocence in more ways than one.
Shortly after the meeting broke up, Raunch Rammer received a telegram. It consisted of two words and a signature. It read: “I QUIT.” It was signed by Llona.