Gary Jenkins - The Hesitating Couple

It had been during the slack time, in mid-afternoon, that Faye, following her employer’s directions, was restocking one of the higher shelves, behind the long counter. She was standing on a ladder reaching high up, her hands full of ledgers she had just price-marked when his voice startled her. She had not been conscious of his entry.

“When does the special sale start?” he asked, looking up to enjoy the view of shapely, tapering thighs.

Faye looked back and down at him. She started and lost her balance, momentarily; grasping at the ladder, she dropped the pile of black-bound books, emitting a little cry as they crashed to the floor. “Oh! Darn it!”

His amused eyes continued to look up at her, and she realized, suddenly, that her position on the ladder afforded him an unobstructed view of her legs and thighs… probably all the way up to her panties. She gasped and scrambled down from the ladder. He came around the counter, murmuring an apology, and scooped up the fallen account books, smiling down into her eyes as he handed them to her.

“I’ll take a dozen!” he said.

“A dozen… ledgers…?”

“No… a dozen just like you!”

Her face reddened, prettily. “Well!… Really… I’m…”

“You’re new… a stranger to Beautiful Downtown Burbank, aren’t you? I’ve worked around here for two or three years… thought I knew most everybody…”

“I’ve only been here a few weeks,” she confessed.

“I thought so…” he smiled.

Hastily, she added, “But I don’t feel like a stranger, here… just sort of transplanted.”

“Actually, I’m transplanted here only for work,” he grinned. “I live in Santa Monica.” Then, an afterthought, “You live with your folks, here…?”

I’m all alone, now!

His understanding was quick. “I’m sorry…” he said, “I didn’t mean to pry… By the way, I’m Bill Wright… and…?”

“ Faye … Faye Andrews,” she supplied.

Then, he had made his purchase, a package of carbon paper. As he turned to leave, he said, almost offhandedly, “You’ll have dinner with me, tonight? I know a nice place out on Foothill… not too far…?”

“I’d love to!” She said it without thinking. Afterward, on reflection, she thought she had accepted too quickly, too eagerly, perhaps. It was the last thing she wanted: To be thought too eager… and she, certainly, didn’t want involvement, at least not yet, for a while.

Bill picked her up, promptly, at seven o’clock that evening. The atmosphere and decor of the restaurant was excellent, the food and wines outstanding. Bill acted the perfect gentleman; she the perfect lady. Her side of the conversation, when it drifted to her, was evasive, enigmatic, as she told him as little about herself, as possible.

At her door, he tried to take her into his arms to kiss her. She pushed him gently away, turning to open the front door. “It was a lovely dinner, Bill… but please… don’t hurry me!” she murmured, softly.

His frown was momentary; he regained his composure, quickly, in the face of her rebuff. “Lunch tomorrow?” he asked.

“No, thank you… I have only a half-hour for lunch…”

“Dinner… tomorrow evening?” He was persistent.

“Sorry… Ill be doing my hair!”

May I call you, then…?” he asked, refusing to be put off, completely.

“Yes… Good night, Bill… It was a lovely evening,” she said, closing the door in his face.

He stared at the closed door for a moment. Damn! What a cool brush-off!… Or, is it a come-on… playing hard to get?

Bill kept calling her, until she accepted a dinner-date with him three days later.

In a small, intimate place in Pasadena, they had an excellent meal, and Bill had drunk four or five martinis, she limiting herself to two. As they drove homeward, he turned off onto a darkened road, pulling the Porsche into a secluded turnout, under a spreading oak tree. Stopping the car and turning out the lights, he reached for her.

Faye tried to avoid his avid kiss, but his lips captured hers, holding her tight to him, his tongue searching, trying to penetrate the barrier of her lips and teeth; finally, she struggled free of his embrace.

“Bill… please…!” she breathed. “I don’t want any… involvement… like this!”

“Damn it, Faye! You’re so desirable… I-I want you! I can’t keep my hands off of you… any longer!” he groaned.

His hand groped and found a luscious, firm breast through her clothing, grasping and clawing, painfully, into the soft, mounding flesh. Both her hands darted to her bosom, trying to protect herself, wincing from the pain. Prying at his stronger hand, she grunted with the effort, terror striking at her as the memory of Robert’s attempted rape of her went whirling through her mind. She grasped at words and phrases to say; she even toyed with the idea of jumping from the car and running from him… anything to deflect him from his goal. His mouth, once again, captured her full, red lips.

Suddenly, she relaxed, dropped her hands to her lap and twisted her mouth aside. A peal of almost hysterical laughter exploded from her lips, grating into his ear. He drew back in surprise.

“What’s so funny… all of a sudden?” he queried, puzzled.

“You… Me… Us!” she gasped, giggling now. “I was just thinking… maybe I should be playing it for comedy… act the maiden in distress… who’s about to lose her virginity… jump out of the car… and walk home… or demand honorable intentions from you… both of which would be foolish… and would mean nothing to you… isn’t that right?” she gasped out, running her sentences together in a rush of words.

“What the hell…? Talk sense… will you?” Bill growled with exasperation.

“I am talking straight, Bill! Listen to me!” she chided.

“O.K.! I’m listening…!”

“… Or, I could let you have your way… with me… once!… And that would be that! I’d never let you have me… a second time!” She was deadly serious.

“… But, I-I love you…! I want you…!” he mumbled, not really meaning it. It was part of his practiced line.

“Aren’t you confusing love with sex?! They’re not the same, you know!”

Bill was thoughtful, for a moment, some reasoning returning to him, belatedly, his passion curbed, momentarily, now.

“Then… you wouldn’t…?” he began. “No!” she cut in, “To me… sex without love would be out of the question! Can you understand that…

“Not exactly… but I’ll try…” He hesitated, before going on, “… And, I do want to see more of you… I couldn’t give you up, just like that!” He snapped his fingers.

“Then, take me home… now! Please?” Reaching for the ignition key, he started the engine, rammed the transmission into reverse gear and backed around in the small turnout. He regained the road, the little car jumping forward, screamingly, toward the main road, under his torturingly heavy foot on the accelerator. He ground out at her, between clenched teeth, “All right… this’s your round!”

Faye touched his arm. “Bill… why don’t you give me a chance… to learn to love you? I could… you know… i-if you gave me time.

‘Time…? How much time… and why?” be grunted.

“Six months… a year, maybe… I’ve so much… t-to get straightened out… with myself… Things I can’t tell you about… yet… she said, guardedly.

“Why so long?”

“I want to be sure… sure of myself… Sure of you…”

“Are you talking about… rn-marriage…!”

Faye said, quite simply, “Yes… Bill!”

Bill had never known a woman quite like Faye. Too many of those he had known in the past had been pushovers; his name, his uncle’s moderately large wealth, not to mention his smooth line… which, if failing, he would replace with roughness and force… had dropped many a pair of panties for him, their lovely, feminine owners spreading their thighs, readily, for his rampaging sexual assaults. Then, if he couldn’t get so-called, nice girls into bed, there was always the possibility of buying sexual favors; as a matter-of-fact, he was a well-known customer, at a certain motel down on Highway 101, near the beach. There his uncle’s money had bought him some of the wildest sex that could be experienced.