Roger Grayson: The Two-Way Mirror

He smiled again to himself as he piloted his Mustang into traffic, Toni's antics coming to mind. God, she was a hot little piece, all right… screw from morning until night, and back around the clock without a break… but she meant nothing to him beyond being a playmate and solid friend, and she knew it. He'd made that clear from the beginning… that their teaming up could be only a game, for convenience and pleasure's sake. All the same, he knew she was in love with him, but as far as he was concerned there never could be anyone but Karen; he would always love her… as long as he lived.

He sensed a tightness in his throat as memories of her flooded his mind. there were never many hours of a day when at least a fleeting thought of her didn't pass through his brain. My God, how he had loved her… how he still loved her. He wondered if she ever thought of him, where she was… if she was happy?

He had never seen her again after the divorce; hadn't wanted any association or mementos to tear him apart any more than he already was. Three days following the signing of the final papers he had enlisted in the Marines and gone to Vietnam hoping he'd get it quickly and put an end to all of his misery. As it was, he hadn't suffered a scratch and decided that he was damned glad about that, too. That inherent desire for survival was much stronger than he had ever realized.

Well, he'd learned to live without her, hadn't he?… even though he'd been certain he never could… but he would never forgive himself for what he had done to her. His horrible raping of her beautiful, soft, virginal body had been the destructive force that had nearly destroyed her completely. She had never been the same after, simply a fear-ridden, lifeless, frozen woman from the moment he would touch her. Oh she tried, he knew that… pretended at love when it was never there… God, there was little else he could do, was there? He hadn't tried to be noble; he owed her that much. She deserved happiness with someone… a full life… so young and vibrant and lovely… God, she might even be married again, he thought, and an emptiness seized at his entrails…

"Well… that's what you wanted for her, wasn't it?" he said aloud to himself. "You… you stupid, high-principled ass, you!"

"Shall we have a drink?" Karl Fletcher invited, taking her wrap when they were inside his apartment.

Karen's belly had become a knotted little cavern of queasiness from the moment he closed the door behind her. She had already drunk too much, but purposely, and when he had casually placed his hand on her thigh driving home, she was wondering if she had drunk enough.

"I don't mind," she replied, her vision somewhat blurred, her tongue just a bit thick. She saw her manuscript on a center table and strolled over to look down at it while he went to a corner bar to prepare their drinks.

"Turn on the stereo, darling," he said over the tingling of glassware. "I think we need soft lights and music, eh?"

She looked in his direction, couldn't see him but managed a smile anyway. She spotted the stereo and went over to it, trying to count up all the "dears" and "darlings" they had exchanged so far throughout the evening.

God, is it worth it? Is it…? And all over that pile of paper sitting on that table… Can I go through with it?

He came up behind her, moved a little to her right and handed her a glass while at the same time his other hand went around her waist, immediately smoothing down over the full round curve of her buttocks. She stiffened, her breath coming sharply into her throat.

"My God, you're lovely," he rasped, his fat greasy face only an inch or so from her own. "We… we do understand each other, don't we?"

Karen swallowed tightly. His hand resting on her buttocks had sent a cold child fluttering through her. She had to steel herself to keep from bolting. She

had come this far. Success… that illusive goddess… she remembered.

"Well…? We do, don't we?" he prodded nervously. He licked at his lips and his little colorless eyes were bugging at her. Thank God, she couldn't see him clearly. "I-I'm here, aren't I?" she heard herself say.

Abruptly, he turned her to face him and drew her tight against him, sloshing her drink to splatter on both of them as he smothered her soft lips with his wet, open mouth. He clutched at her buttocks with both small hands, grinding his pelvis into her until she could feel the rising bulge of him and his tongue jabbed between her lips against her clenched white teeth.

He drew back his head, simpering lustfully at her as she tried to measure her own physical reactions to his aggressive touch. So far, so good, she thought mechanically. The liquor was doing its job well… if only she didn't have to look at him…

"You won't be sorry, darling," he hissed at her. "I promise you that. You be nice to me and we'll make your fame and fortune with that book… I… swear it…

His fat little hands smoothed up over her hips and waist to her breasts where they paused to squeeze and massage hungrily. Karen was amazed at her lack of feeling, but she couldn't bring herself to touch him in response. Suddenly, he let go of her.

"Let's go into the bedroom," he gasped, grasping her hand and leading the way.

A shudder passed over her then, the first of a series that seemed to rack her whole being at the thought of willingly entering his bedroom with him and for the sole purpose of giving her body to him…

He stopped in the doorway and turned to her. "You're frightened," he said, attempting to be gentle even as his eyes spewed urgent, raw lust at her. "I feel you trembling… but don't worry, I won't hurt you, I promise…"

Oddly, she was encouraged by his words, enough so that she managed a further smile as she said: "I-I'm afraid I'm not much good at this sort of thing. "I-I haven't done it m-much."

He grinned lasciviously, drawing her into the room. "I'll help you," he half whispered. "You just be your normal, luscious self… and leave the rest up to me." He left her, crossing the room.

Karen raised her drink and gulped half of it down. He had turned on a dim bureau lamp and started to remove his coat and tie. For the first time she saw the girth of his stomach protruding against his white shirt… and then the bulge of his penis straining against his trousers. She stared at him in somewhat spellbound fascination as he unbuttoned his shirt, as if she were suddenly bewitched by this whole unbelievable scene in which she was scheduled to play a leading role. It was like some comedy… some farce she had once seen somewhere… as if she ought to burst out laughing… but there was nothing to laugh at… absolutely nothing at all!

"Would you like me to undress you, darling?" he asked softly. He had removed his shirt and was pulling his undershirt over his head. She saw the full bulk of his heavy belly then, hairless and pink-skinned like a baby, his effeminate breasts puffy and flabby, a small patch of hair between them.

She shook her head automatically to his question and walked to the other side of the bed, setting down her drink and reaching up behind her to lower the zipper of her dress. Whatever she did from here on, it would have to be without thinking… for if she gave this lurid situation one complete minute of" thought she would run from there like a scared rabbit. She slipped her dress off, not looking at him but feeling his eyes raking her. She was wearing a half-slip and wriggled that down over her hips. She had blotted his presence temporarily from her mind and went about undressing as if she were home and getting ready for bed. Subconsciously, she reached up behind her and unfastened her bra, slipping it off, then, her garter belt, smoothing her nylons down over the silky flesh of her legs. Her back was to him and only her panties remained. Why not? If not now, eventually anyway. She bit at her lower lip and rolled them down over her full, rounded hips, straightened… and there he stood, before her!