Stu Boy - She Needs Some Pleasin

Susie had called Tony at home. He spoke to her soothingly because, with his hangover, loud talk was painful. She had wakened him and she was sorry; still, she felt panicked. She had two more weeks before the story should be sent to the printers. In any case the editing of the text would be down to the wire.

"All you have to do is get a peg. Do you have a peg?" A "peg", in editorial terminology, was the central idea that tied all the information in an article together. Sometimes it was the point the writer was trying to prove, often it was just an approach, like one that tied a certain phenomenon to the other phenomena that at first appeared totally unlike it.

"No, nothing at all," she confessed.

"Well, listen, I've got to go to sleep. You call tonight or tomorrow. Try to think of something." He paused, thinking. "How well do you know them?"

"Who? Talma and Chiver?"

"Yeah. "

"We can't do any expose stuff. How would we prove it?"

"Not personal stuff. Ask them what they're doing, what they think they're doing, what they're trying to prove." She agreed, but as soon as she hung up the phone she was glad that the story would be written by the anonymous "Miss M." She had decided on that after her first week at the Clinic. Even without going into the more sordid details, it was clear that she would be telling far too much about herself. And what she would have to tell would be painful to her parents and even disgraceful to the rest of the Giver family.

She responded eagerly to Libby Talma's invitation for dinner. "Just so we can chat, y' know-girl talk. I don't get to see enough of you at the Clinic, what with our both-" here she giggled-"working so hard."

Susie was napping in her small apartment at the Clinic when five o'clock came. She had had an exhausting day. She rose sleepily and opened the door. In the first moment she was surprised to see Mrs. Talma there, but then she remembered about dinner. "I just wondered if you needed a ride."

"Oh, that would be fine," Susie answered, "'cause I took the bus today."

"Oh, good," the older woman smiled with genuine pleasure. Susie wondered whether the matronish researcher was attracted to her for her body or out of loneliness for companionship. Well, she thought, I'll find out soon enough.

Once they seated themselves in Libby's small compact car, the driver mentioned that Dr. Chiver "might drop in a little later, just to say hello."

That brought up a subject of more than mild curiosity. Susie couldn't ask her outright if her relations with Dr. Chiver were more than platonic, but she could edge toward a question and let the lady volunteer if she wished.

"How long have you known Dr. Chiver?" She affected a tone of complete innocence, and apparently Libby Talma suspected nothing, for she answered without thinking.

"About ten years." She paused, and Susie was surprised and delighted when she went on.

"The Clinic was Dr. Chiver's idea. He hired me as a secretary. I have a bachelor's degree in psychology, and he thought that would be useful in the office. I have no medical degree, but I gradually grew more and more important to him in the day-to-day administration of business."

Susie wondered how personal that dependence was. "Dr. Chiver seems like a wonderful man," she said, hoping to elicit a revealing testimonial to the man from his partner.

"Yes, he truly is," Libby answered without missing a beat, but without great feeling as well. "He is the guiding genius of the research activities. I tend to be a better administrator-I think women always are, don't you?"

Susie nodded, smiling, although she wasn't that sure she agreed. She didn't, in any case, want to interrupt the flow of valuable information.

"I'll bet I know what you're thinking," Libby Talma said as she turned her car into a quiet suburban street.

"Huh?" Susie certainly hoped she didn't.

"You're wondering why Dr. Chiver directed your activities at first."

"Well, not really-though I did wonder why you seemed to take over a couple of weeks ago."

Mrs. Talma jerked the wheel and the car glided up into a open garage. She turned off the purring engine and looked straight at Susie. There was, in that garage, in the intimate space of the automobile, an eerie feeling of almost oppressive privacy. "What would you say," she began her tone confidential, "if I told you that the doctor and I some times compete-you know what I mean-for the attention of our co-workers?"

Susie was all too sure of what she meant, and therefore it was easy to conceal surprise and simply nod-though she was amazed, rather, at the candid way Mrs. Talma had brought the matter into the open.

"I see I was right about you."

"Right?" Susie was playing straight-man; the conversation had gone just where she had hoped it would-and more quickly than she'd expected. She felt like bolding on to her advantage.

"Yes, you're not shocked." She reached down into her purse for a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Susie, who declined, then lit one for herself. She inhaled, then continued. "You see, some of our therapists tend to put us on a pedestal. They tend to think of us as parent-substitutes, and you know how hard it is for people to realize that their parents, as little children say, do it."

Susie laughed; this was the first sign of the woman's sense of humor. "No," she said, shaking her head just a little. Her hair brushed against her shoulders, and she ran her tongue tip over the center of her upper lip, then pulled it back. "No, I'm not shocked at all."

She raised her head and stared into Libby's eyes. The woman had removed her glasses and though her naked face was not beautiful-probably never had been-she looked softer. Susie had never made love to a woman much older than herself; she found herself looking forward to the prospect.

"And Dr. Chiver? You said he might drop over tonight. "

"I can tell him not to, if you'd rather he not."

In truth she'd rather he would not, but journalism was, after all, journalism, and she had to scrounge for facts in whatever ways she could. "Of course," she stuttered, "I'd like to see you both." She was aware that the awkward sentence really said, "Yes, I'll let both of you make love to me."

The dinner was chicken breasts on rice, with a wine sauce. Libby Talma cooked well. After dinner the two sat before the glowing living room fire and drank liqueurs from coffee cups. The heat made Susie sleepy.

All it took to arouse her was Libby standing up before the fire, poking at the burning wood with the rod, and then turning. The heavy body was outlined in red-orange, and her large chest was thrust out. The nipples, inside the bra, seemed to point sharply. Susie watched avidly as Libby unbuttoned the tweed one-piece.

Her bra was pink lace, an extremely complicated bit of underwear. She wore a girdle as well, and the pressure marks on her slightly flabby skin made Susie wince with sympathy. Her thighs were fat, but the body was not unattractive. "Help me out of these things, will you, Susie? We can lie in front of the fire," she promised.

Susie pressed her chest against the bra while her arms encircled the middle-aged woman. She unhooked the straps and then moved back. The cups slid off the jugs. The nipples were already erect, and they were deep brown in color.

The girdle, however, was removed with almost comic difficulty. Libby pulled in her too-large stomach while Susie tried to yank the foundation garment past the spreading thighs. The two squirmed, and when the fabric rustled down Libby's legs to her ankles, they both heaved sighs of relief. Susie chuckled, then looked up to see if she had hurt her boss' feelings.

"Don't worry," Libby told Susie, and the latter noticed how kind the voice was. "Nobody's perfect." It seemed to Susie precisely the right thing to say as she surveyed the body again. The labia looked discolored and worn but still, she wanted to touch the sagging breasts, make‹ them live again as the fire-blood raced to the tits.