Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (34 page)

He stroked her hair and lowered his voice. “I can imagine what Maggie told you about me, but you are different from any other girl I have ever dated."

She didn't know what to do with her hands. Leaving them limply hanging did not seem right. She placed them lightly on his back and they tingled at the touch.

“Blue must be your favorite color,” he said as his hand caressed her cheek.

“It is, but how did you know?” She snuggled closer to him.

“The walls are light blue, the sofa and chairs in the living room are dark blue, the carpet is blue with flecks of red, and you have on a beautiful blue dress."

“When Dottie Frank saw my apartment for the first time she said I must be trying to compensate for not being blond-haired and blue-eyed."

His hand pressed her head closer to his chest as he began to sing in a rich baritone:

Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes,

Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes,

Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes,

I'll never love blue eyes again.

“Mercy,” she said as she squeezed him a little tighter, “you have a great voice."

“Not great I'm afraid, but I did enjoy singing in the church choir back in Atlanta."

She slid her hands to the small of his back. “You're from Atlanta?"

“Born and bred in Hotlanta.” He kissed her hair and breathed in its fragrance. “You smell good enough to eat,” he said softly.

“That's the shampoo you're smelling,” she joked. “If you're hungry there's a full bottle in the bathroom.” She inhaled deeply. “You smell so manly."

He laughed. “It's called Brute.” He stepped back, held her hands and slowly let his eyes wander from her face to her feet.

“You make me feel funny when you look at me like that."

He grinned and her knees buckled. “Good funny or bad funny?"

She smiled. “I don't know. No man has ever looked at me so closely. I...” She paused and looked at the floor while dropping her voice. “I think I like it."

He moved to the table and opened the game board. “How about it? Just one game?"

She nodded and searched kitchen drawers for paper and a pencil. “I have beer and Pepsi-Colas in the refrigerator. Help yourself."

He opened the heavy white door. “I'll take a Pepsi. What's your preference?"

She looked at him and cocked her head to one side. “I'll have a Pepsi too. I thought you would prefer beer."

“I do."

“But you said..."

“I like beer too much. I'm not an alcoholic, June, but if I allowed myself to drink I think I would soon become one. My dad was in AA all the years I knew him. I don't want to risk following in his steps."

“I'm sorry, Frank. I didn't know. I shouldn't have bought the stuff."

“Hey, lighten up. It doesn't bother me to be around people who enjoy a brew now and then. Help yourself."

She shook her head and saw that he was watching the movement of her breasts. It thrilled her to know that she was exciting him. “I bought it for you,” she explained. “I've never even tasted the stuff."

He pulled a chair from the table and held it for her. As she sat down he said, “Maybe the store will give you your money back.” He kissed the back of her neck. She wondered if he, too, could hear the sizzle.

June dumped the tiles on the table and began turning them face down while Frank popped the top on two Pepsi cans and sat across from her.

“June, I don't mean to be crude, but you brought it up. I am attracted to your breasts. Do you suppose you could unfasten that top button so I can see just a glimpse of Desire and Magic?"

She dropped her eyes. What must I do? she wondered. She surprised herself by getting up, circling the table and dropping to her knees beside him. “I told you at the restaurant you can do anything you want. Reveal as much as you like. I'll sit in front of you naked if that will please you."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. His fingers felt like branding irons against her chest as he opened one and then a second button. He tucked the gaping cloth under the dress and she knew she now revealed more cleavage than ever before in all her physically mature life.

“I'll take the bra off if you like,” she offered.

“Let's play Scrabble,” he replied.

She returned to her seat and felt his eyes burning into her chest as she leaned forward while sitting down. “Like I said, Frank, I'm not very good at word games. I didn't go to college and my vocabulary is limited."

“I didn't go to college either,” Frank said as he helped arrange the tiles. “All I ever wanted to do was be a gardener, like my dad. I knew I could learn more from him than I could from any cow college."

June chuckled. “What's a cow college?"

“You know, an agricultural school.” He spread his broad hands on the tiles and mixed them up thoroughly. “You draw first."

She drew the letter X and showed it to him with a smile on her face.

“I thought you said you weren't good at this game,” he joked. “There's no point in me drawing. You go first."

She drew another letter and placed it in her tile holder. “I wanted to go to college but it just wasn't meant to be."

“How so?” he asked as he drew a tile.

“My parents died when I was a senior in high school."

“I'm sorry. Accident?"

She shook her head as she reached inside her dress to adjust the bra strap. “Mom died from a major stroke and Dad followed her six months later. The doctors said it was a heart attack, but I think he died of a broken heart. We were tenant farmers. There was no money. Instead of going to college, I went to work as a waitress. Dottie Frank let me live with her until I saved enough to rent this apartment."

“Do you like being a waitress?"

She glanced up. His steel gray eyes were searching hers. “Yeah.” She nodded. “Yes I do,” she said reflectively. “It's hard work sometimes, but I like being busy."

“Me too,” he said. “There's nothing like working up a good sweat and smelling freshly turned earth and newly mowed grass."

She tried to imagine the aroma of his perspiration. “I can tell you have never worked in a tobacco field under a hot July sun."

“You worked in the fields with your folks?"

She nodded. “I had to. They couldn't handle all the work themselves and I was their only child. I was probably no more than three or four years old when I started going to the fields with my Dad."

“You miss him, don't you?"

She nodded. “He was the only man in my life until..."

He reached across the table and her hand disappeared under his. “You just made me very happy."

“I did?"

“Yeah. You did. You were going to say ‘until I came along.’”

“Why do you think that?” she said with a smile on her lips.

“Didn't I tell you? I'm a mind reader."

She arranged her tiles on the board, forming the word “Frank.” “That wouldn't happen again in a million years,” she chuckled as she recorded her score.

He studied his tiles and his eyes flashed. Using her “n,” he spelled “June.” “It must be fate,” he joked.

June won both of the games they played and she was certain her success was not due to skill.

“June,” Frank said as they replaced the tiles in the box, “Where's your bathroom? I need to see a man about a dog."

She laughed. “My Dad used to say that. Down the hall on the left, and hurry up. I'm about to pop, too."

She finished packing away the game and when she heard the toilet flush, she headed for the bathroom. They met in the hall and their eyes locked. He pulled her tightly to him and kissed her hair. She lifted her head. His lips brushed hers.

“Get your business done, sweetheart. It's time we started getting acquainted in another way."

She wiggled her breasts against his chest and immediately felt guilty for having done so.

She locked the door behind her and wondered why. She sat on the toilet seat and fantasized that his buttocks warmed the same seat moments before, but then she remembered that men don't sit to urinate. After washing her hands and checking her appearance in the mirror, she opened the door. Only a dim glow came from the living room. Frank had turned off most of the lights. She took a deep breath, returned to the sink and opened the medicine cabinet where the box of condoms was stored. This is it, she thought as she slipped a foil package into the pocket of her dress.

“What are you watching?” she asked as she sat closely beside him on the sofa.

“Nothing. I was just channel hopping."

Tarzan, with Jane clinging to his back, was swinging on a vine. “Looking for a dirty movie?"

“Dirty movies are not on my mind tonight.” He dropped the control, turned towards her and pulled her close.

She felt his lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his hair. His tongue traced the juncture of her closed lips. She opened them slightly and he nibbled first on her upper lip and then the lower. His tongue thrust wantonly into her mouth and she moaned.

She felt her body trembling, aching. His hand seemed frozen to her hip. That was not where she wanted it. Her body was pulsating with unfamiliar sensations. Her hand gripped his shoulder as her tongue followed his into his mouth. Little explosions erupted within her as he sucked her tongue deeper into his closing lips. She moved her tongue rapidly and he groaned.

She squeezed his shoulder as his tongue returned to her mouth. He tasted like she knew not what. The aroma of his cologne changed to something new and exciting. Her hand trailed down his arm to his hand. She grasped it, pulled it to her breast and she moaned into his open mouth when his fingers tightened.

He broke the kiss and moved his hand to her thigh.

She barely recognized the sound of her own voice. “I have clean sheets on my bed."

His lips nibbled at the nape of her neck and moved to her throat. His hand traveled down her thigh to her knee. She parted her legs. She wanted to feel his hand under the dress traveling back up her inner thigh.

“Kiss lower,” she whispered. As he complied, she wondered if she was supposed to take off her dress or would he do it. His lips found the upper swell of Desire. Her nipples grew even harder than they already were and ached wonderfully as they pressed against the unyielding brassiere. His hand stroked back up her thigh, but it was still outside her dress.

His lips moved to her left ear and he sucked gently on the lobe, tickling it with his tongue. She shuddered and shamelessly yanked her dress up to her waist, forcing his hand to her naked flesh.

“I have a rubber in my pocket,” she gasped. “We can do it right here if you like."

He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her mouth. “Are you really a virgin?” he asked.

“Yes, but I don't want to be in the morning. Frank, teach me how to make love to you—how to make you happy. You promised you'd teach me how to enjoy being a woman. Teach me tonight."

“I can't,” he said as he grasped her and pulled her body towards him.

She found herself lying on the sofa, her head in his lap resting on something hard—something big. She shuddered when she realized what it was. “I don't understand,” she said, her voice trembling like her body.

He slowly ran his fingers through her hair. “I don't know how,” he said slowly. “I've slept with many women, but I've never made love to one. I'm learning, just like you."

“Then lets learn together—now—right here on the floor if you like.” Her fingers flew to the buttons on her dress.

He stopped her. “I want our first time to be special."

“What can be more special than this?” she pleaded. “Frank, I don't want to wait until we are married. I want you right now. I need you. Please Frank."

He sank back against the sofa and sighed. His fingers slowly running through her hair were now maddening. She buried her face into his flat stomach and the tears came.

“One day you'll thank me,” he said.

He watched the bad guys trap tigers in cruel bamboo cages while Tarzan watched from a treetop. June sobbed herself to sleep.

Frank picked her up, carried her to the bedroom and eased her onto the bed. He knelt beside her and gazed at her face. He thought she would sleep better if he removed her dress, but he didn't trust himself. He slipped off her shoes and socks and kissed each toe before pulling the covers over her.

He turned off the light in the bathroom and went to the kitchen. He sat at the table, ripped off the top page of the tablet on which she had kept the Scrabble scores and picked up the pencil. Several minutes passed before he lowered the pencil to the page.

After five minutes of thoughtful writing, he tore the page from the tablet and reread his note. He smiled and placed it in the center of the table where she would be sure to see it in the morning. He turned off the light in the kitchen and snapped off the lamp in the living room. He groped his way to the door, opened it and made sure the night latch was on. He stepped through the door and slowly pulled it to him, but then stopped.

She'll be very uncomfortable in her clothes, he thought. The least I can do is remove her belt. There's no harm in that. He slipped back into the living room and slowly moved to the hallway.

I'll need a little light, he thought. He turned on the light in the bathroom and left the door open. His heart began to race as he gazed at the sleeping beauty. Carefully he peeled back the covers, leaned over and unfastened the belt. She stirred as he began to pull the belt from her waist. He stopped and listened for her even breathing. Carefully he inched the belt from her tiny waist.

He spotted the alarm clock on the bedside table. She has to get up early to go to work, he thought. I'll bet she has it permanently set for the right time. He picked up the clock, pulled out the alarm stem and quietly returned the clock to the table.

She was smiling as she slept. He wanted to crawl in bed and snuggle up to her. The dress will get wrinkled if I don't slip it off, he rationalized. He examined the dress. It buttoned from neck to hem. Very carefully, he unfastened the buttons. It seemed to take hours and beads of perspiration dotted his brow when he spread the dress from her body.

He could not suppress an audible gasp when he saw her breasts spilling out the top of the bra. He spotted the clasp between the cups and, without thinking, unfastened it. Slowly he lifted the white cloth as if opening a treasured book. He closed his lips over a nipple and felt it grow into his mouth. He switched to the other nipple with the same result. “Goodnight, Desire. Goodnight, Magic,” he whispered.