Understand?”
“Yes.”
She placed an open hand on my chest and gently pressed me back. When I was flat, she took the pillow from behind my head, pulled down the sheet and placed it under my feet. “Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Close your eyes and we’ll begin.”
Her fingers were soft and light as a feather’s touch at my temples. “Feel me?”
“Yes.”
At my cheeks. At my ankles. At my knees. At my shoulders. At my nipples. At my arms. “Feel me?”
“Yes.”
At my ribs. At my hips. At my chin. At my calves. At my thighs. I giggled.
Her voice was patient. “What are you laughing at?”
“I’m waiting for you to touch my balls.”
She didn’t answer. I felt her hands at my temples again and then the warmth of her breasts on my face as she bent over me. “Feel me?”
“Yes.” I had an idea. “If your hands are yin and yang, wouldn’t your breasts be yin and yang also?”
She thought for a moment. “It’s possible.”
“Well?”
“You’re a difficult case,” she said. She slipped down on the bed beside me. Her arm circled my head and drew me to her breasts. “That better?”
“Yes.” They were warm, so warm. I buried my face between them.
“Try to sleep,” she said softly.
I closed my eyes. I had a feeling of total security. The knots in my stomach were untangling and my bones were turning soft. I pressed my lips to the side of her breast. I was so tired it was an effort for me to talk. “Do you know you have beautiful breasts?”
I thought I heard her whisper, “Thank you.” But I couldn’t be sure. I was fast asleep.
CHAPTER 16
There was a knock at the door. I struggled up through the darkness. “Come in.”
Sunlight flooded through the open door. I blinked. Denise came in with a tray of orange juice and coffee. Silently she put it on the bed. Verita followed.
“I am sorry to wake you, Gary,” Verita said, her faint accent more noticeable because of her excitement. “But Persky said it was very important.”
My eyes adjusted to the light. “What time is it?”
“Eleven o’clock.”
I got out of bed and padded to the bathroom in my bare feet. I flipped the seat back on the toilet. “What did he want?” I shouted.
“Mr. Ronzi is downstairs. He says he has to see you.”
“Tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I stepped into the shower and turned it on full blast. When I went back into the bedroom, Verita had gone, but Denise was still there.
She picked up the glass of orange juice. “Drink it.”
I sipped at the juice. It was freshly squeezed and ice cold. “How long are you going to keep wearing that silly outfit?”
“Don’t you like it?”
“That’s got nothing to do with it. I like it fine. But it keeps turning me on. I’ve got a French maid fetish.”
She didn’t understand. “How do you get a thing like that?”
I laughed. “We had one when I was a kid. I used to stand at the foot of the stairs, trying to get a peek up her dress. Then I would go to my room and beat off.”
She didn’t smile. “That’s stupid.”
“Maybe. But it’s quite common.” I had an idea. “Remind me to use that for one of the future layouts.”
She exchanged the orange juice for coffee. “You’ve had some phone calls.” She held out some slips of paper.
I sat down on the bed, sipping the coffee. “Read them to me. I don’t think my eyes are up to it yet.”
She looked down. “Miss Sheridan wants to know if two o’clock is still okay for today. Mr. Lonergan will call you back. Your mother. Call her this evening.”
“Nothing from Reverend Sam?”
She shook her head.
I didn’t like it. “Try to get him for me.” I put down the coffee and began to dress while she dialed. I had my shoes and jeans on by the time she put down the phone.
“He’s not at home, at the church or at the workshop,” she said.
“Try the hospital.”
I had just finished buttoning my shirt when she held the phone toward me. “He’s coming to the
“Yes.”
She placed an open hand on my chest and gently pressed me back. When I was flat, she took the pillow from behind my head, pulled down the sheet and placed it under my feet. “Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Close your eyes and we’ll begin.”
Her fingers were soft and light as a feather’s touch at my temples. “Feel me?”
“Yes.”
At my cheeks. At my ankles. At my knees. At my shoulders. At my nipples. At my arms. “Feel me?”
“Yes.”
At my ribs. At my hips. At my chin. At my calves. At my thighs. I giggled.
Her voice was patient. “What are you laughing at?”
“I’m waiting for you to touch my balls.”
She didn’t answer. I felt her hands at my temples again and then the warmth of her breasts on my face as she bent over me. “Feel me?”
“Yes.” I had an idea. “If your hands are yin and yang, wouldn’t your breasts be yin and yang also?”
She thought for a moment. “It’s possible.”
“Well?”
“You’re a difficult case,” she said. She slipped down on the bed beside me. Her arm circled my head and drew me to her breasts. “That better?”
“Yes.” They were warm, so warm. I buried my face between them.
“Try to sleep,” she said softly.
I closed my eyes. I had a feeling of total security. The knots in my stomach were untangling and my bones were turning soft. I pressed my lips to the side of her breast. I was so tired it was an effort for me to talk. “Do you know you have beautiful breasts?”
I thought I heard her whisper, “Thank you.” But I couldn’t be sure. I was fast asleep.
CHAPTER 16
There was a knock at the door. I struggled up through the darkness. “Come in.”
Sunlight flooded through the open door. I blinked. Denise came in with a tray of orange juice and coffee. Silently she put it on the bed. Verita followed.
“I am sorry to wake you, Gary,” Verita said, her faint accent more noticeable because of her excitement. “But Persky said it was very important.”
My eyes adjusted to the light. “What time is it?”
“Eleven o’clock.”
I got out of bed and padded to the bathroom in my bare feet. I flipped the seat back on the toilet. “What did he want?” I shouted.
“Mr. Ronzi is downstairs. He says he has to see you.”
“Tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I stepped into the shower and turned it on full blast. When I went back into the bedroom, Verita had gone, but Denise was still there.
She picked up the glass of orange juice. “Drink it.”
I sipped at the juice. It was freshly squeezed and ice cold. “How long are you going to keep wearing that silly outfit?”
“Don’t you like it?”
“That’s got nothing to do with it. I like it fine. But it keeps turning me on. I’ve got a French maid fetish.”
She didn’t understand. “How do you get a thing like that?”
I laughed. “We had one when I was a kid. I used to stand at the foot of the stairs, trying to get a peek up her dress. Then I would go to my room and beat off.”
She didn’t smile. “That’s stupid.”
“Maybe. But it’s quite common.” I had an idea. “Remind me to use that for one of the future layouts.”
She exchanged the orange juice for coffee. “You’ve had some phone calls.” She held out some slips of paper.
I sat down on the bed, sipping the coffee. “Read them to me. I don’t think my eyes are up to it yet.”
She looked down. “Miss Sheridan wants to know if two o’clock is still okay for today. Mr. Lonergan will call you back. Your mother. Call her this evening.”
“Nothing from Reverend Sam?”
She shook her head.
I didn’t like it. “Try to get him for me.” I put down the coffee and began to dress while she dialed. I had my shoes and jeans on by the time she put down the phone.
“He’s not at home, at the church or at the workshop,” she said.
“Try the hospital.”
I had just finished buttoning my shirt when she held the phone toward me. “He’s coming to the
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