Perry Scope - When the loving gets rough

"Isn't she too much?" Pat demanded enthusiastically. "She has real talent. Better than most of the stuff." Pat examined Karen's flushed face. She liked the way the blond hair made the brown eyes sink deeply into the face. She reached out and touched Karen's hand gently. "Are you terribly shocked? I won't try to rape you, you know."

Karen felt the heat from Pat's slender fingers. "Don't be silly!" She felt immune from shock. She wished she were as immune to the growing excitement in her, or to the way she felt from Pat's light touch.

Pat's normally husky voice lowered still more. Her full lips were naturally moist. "I could make you happy, Karen. I'd like nothing more than to try. Now are you shocked and ready to run?" Pat let one of her long legs straighten out and come to rest against Karen's bare calf.

A sharp awareness shot through Karen's body at the words and touch of Pat's denim-covered leg against her. She did not try to understand her reaction to this strange girl, this part-time prostitute, this full-time lesbian. She only knew that Allen had never excited her in this wild, delirious way… that for all her husband's passionate molesting of her body she had never before felt so desirable. Karen made herself notice the time. It was late. "I'm not shocked, and I'm not ready to run away, either." Karen forced a smile. "But since you mention it, it is late. Very late. I have to go home. Al will be home from school soon. He'll be furious if I'm not there." She had said the wrong thing again. Now she was making Al sound like a slave driver and a tyrant. Poor little Karen, she thought. Want the nice pretty lady to dry your eyes?

"I am scaring you away," Pat stated positively, with a small, dejected shrug of her shoulders. "I didn't want to do that. But before you go, I hope you'll let me tell you a few things… and not be mad."

"Of course. I'm not mad! Honestly, I have to go because Al will get angry and we fight so much…" Karen felt the leg shift slightly on her body. She wanted to close her eyes, but had to settle for just pretending that it wasn't happening. Yet, she knew she didn't really want it to stop, the leg or this night. She wanted to stay here with this girl who told her crazy, exciting things. This girl who seemed to understand her even better than she did herself…

"Poor baby." Pat's eyes rested sympathetically on Karen's pretty face. "You're unhappy with your husband. You could be happy with me, you know. I'm sure of it! My apartment is big enough for both what am I saying?" Pat smiled sadly. "You must think I'm nuts. Well, I suppose I am. But that's the way I feel. I felt it when I first looked at you. It's better that you know it. I just couldn't act casual around you, Karen. I know you're not like me, but at least you know how I feel. Don't hate me for what I cannot help." Pat hoped that didn't sound too hammy.

"Don't say that," Karen begged, genuinely touched by Pat's sadness. She wished she had the courage to tell Pat that no one, no man had ever been so tender with her. She would have liked to stay on with Pat, now, if only to show the girl that she was not running from her. She felt alive in every pore of her body. "I would stay, if it were possible. I'm going because I have to go. I want you to believe that. It's late," she added apologetically.

"Where do you live?" Pat felt the softness of the knees which parted slightly to allow her own to slip between them in a casual but intimate embrace. She wanted this girl more than she had ever wanted any other person.

"In Santa Monica. It's not too far." Karen felt the knees inch up the insides of her legs. Her body was tingling unbearably. She felt the mature tips of her breasts harden and begin to throb.

"It is late, Karen. Let me walk you home. You shouldn't be walking alone around here at this time of the night."

"Why would it be less safe for me than you, Pat?" Karen asked, a bit delighted and yet a bit amused by the older girl's protectiveness.

"Simple, my sweet," Pat answered smoothly, getting up and fishing in her pockets for some change to cover their coffee. "If you were to be raped on the street you would mind terribly, wouldn't you?"

"Why… why, of course!" Karen smiled suddenly at Pat. The wild-eyed girl had the power to delight, confuse, heat and startle her all in the same conversation.

"Well, that's the difference. If I were to be raped, it wouldn't hardly matter at all. I would forget it as soon as it happened. You don't understand that, do you?"

"No, I don't. How could you forget something like that?" Just the thought of a strange man taking her body sent a chill down her spine, cooling the warmth Pat's presence stimulated in her.

"That's what I meant when I talked about the inner search, baby. Nothing matters except what you want to matter to you. I could forget the horrors of being molested by some filthy scum, but I could never forget this excitement I feel just by being with you… Because the first doesn't mean anything in my life, but the second means everything!"

The walk home seemed very short. Karen hardly heard what Pat was saying to her. Her comments about the true meaning of life seemed less vital to Karen than the fact that Pat was walking beside her. They reached the house much too quickly.

"Here's where I live, Pat. Thanks for walking me home. Do you want to come in? I could make us some coffee."

"No. No, thanks, Karen." The girl turned abruptly and started away from the house.

Karen opened her mouth to call Pat back, but she could think of nothing to say.

As if sensing Karen's wish, Pat turned slowly and returned to the girl. "It's a shame, Karen, your being here, stuck with a man you don't love. I feel we belong together. I want you, Karen. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you." Pat yanked out a crumpled cigarette from her jeans and lit it with a battered lighter. "Okay. There… you have it all down, now. That's the way I feel in a nutshell. Now, shall we play this dramatic little scene to its bitter end? Shall I ask you to leave your unhappy home and come away with me? Shall I, do you think? And will you say yes? Will you?"

The lightness of Pat's eyes picked up the glow of her cigarette and the faraway streetlight. She took a final look at the charming heart-shaped face, a quick glance at the large breasts that pushed against the brown bodice of her dress. Then she turned on her heel and started away.

"Wait!" Karen called, finding her voice. "Will I see you again?"

"Do you want to?" Pat asked, her voice rising to make up for the distance between them.

Karen felt wonderfully carefree. It was crazy. It was exhilarating, saying whatever she wished to this woman, not giving a damn what it sounded like to anyone else. This is what Pat did to her – this is what it meant to be free! "Yes!" she shouted. "I do!"

Pat smiled faintly. "I go to the coffeehouse often."

"Good night!" Karen called, but the strange girl had already been swallowed up by the oncoming fog. "Goodnight!"

Karen had been in bed over an hour before Al came home. Her body glowed all over. She couldn't sleep. By the time Al arrived, Karen was eager to see him. She felt like she had a wonderful secret. Even having Al would be better than being alone.

This time she didn't pretend to be asleep when he lowered himself into bed. Her body churned with the knowledge of her own desirability.

"Al?" Karen turned toward her husband.

"Whom were you expecting?" he asked grumpily.

Karen couldn't resist a smile. He was so childish sometimes. She was amazed at this burst of friendliness she felt toward her husband. "I went to that coffeehouse tonight. You know, the one in Venice?"

"The place with all the kooks, you mean?" Allen asked.

"Oh, Al! They're just people. Artistic people. It was lots of fun. I met a real nice person."