Ларри Макмертри - The Last Picture Show

"I was right the first time, wasn't I?" she said hopelessly. "I'm too old and ugly for a young man like you. I don't know how to do this anyway and maybe I'm too old to learn. I can't do anything without crying about it-how could you like me?"

"I like you," Sonny said awkwardly—actually he was not sure. All her crying upset him and made him nervous about himself, and she was certainly not as pretty as a movie star or as pretty as Jacy. Still, he did like her some. Since they hadn't got caught he had begun to feel elated about the whole thing. It was an adventure to have slept with somebody's wife. He didn't know if he would tell anybody or not, but it was sort of a feather in his cap, nonetheless.

Ruth sighed. "If you like me then you decide what to do about me," she said. "I'm not going to chase after you anymore. If you really like me you figure out how to come and see me—I sure don't want you to drive me to the doctor. I think right now you just like what you can do with me. That's fine, but now that you've found out women think you're good looking you'll probably want to go do it with somebody younger and prettier. I wouldn't blame you one bit."

Suddenly she wanted him to leave. She had become embarrassed about her body and didn't want him to see her naked anymore. She stayed curled up on the bed, her breasts and loins hidden from him.

"Track starts pretty soon," Sonny said. "I just won't go out. I can sneak up the alley and in the back door."

He sounded like he really wanted to, and Ruth changed back to hoping. What if he did only want her for sex? It was more than anyone else had ever wanted her for. Suddenly she felt like doing something a little wanton and she sat up and kissed him, her naked breasts against his shirt. Sonny liked that, and when he left he looked back through the doorway and saw her, still naked, bending over the bed to strip away the sheets. It would be well worth giving up track to come and see her, -even though the coach would rage and storm at losing his only decent hurdler.

The second time Sonny came, Ruth wanted to tell him that the squeaking bedsprings bothered her, but she didn't quite have the nerve. She really wanted them to lie down on the floor, but she was afraid if she told Sonny he would think her depraved or something. She knew men were curious when it came to women's desires. Nothing revolted Herman more than to think that she was enjoying him that way. Once or twice in their marriage she had felt something good, but when she began to move or wiggle beneath him to make it feel even better it made Herman furious. "Lay still," he said. "What kind of woman do you think you are, anyway?" After that she lay still, and if she happened to feel something a little good she didn't let him know. Herman was so heavy that most of the time she just felt mashed.

She had not really expected Sonny to come again; when he slipped inside the back door she was filled with delight, and determined not to make any mistakes that might scare him away. They were both still very nervous, and the bedsprings bothered Ruth even more than they had the first time. They were almost too much. She felt something a little good but the springs kept her from concentrating on it; everytime she felt it the grinding of the springs drove it away, and finally she simply endured them, waiting for the quiet lovely time when hewas still, dozing on her body.

Sonny knew something was wrong because Ruth's body was cold and her arms and legs were tensed-she was trying to hold herself in such a way that the springs would be silent. She managed not to cry, but it took a long time for the tension to drain out of her—she was so tense that even the aftermath was not so enjoyable. Neither of them spoke—they simply had no words. Ruth was not sure she wanted him to come anymore; it was not working out at all like she had imagined. But when she felt a little better she began to stroke his back and to play with the shaggy hair at the back of his neck, and she decided she did want him again. Something about it was good, even if much was bad.

On his third visit she gathered up her nerve and told him, as they were undressing, that the noise of the bedsprings bothered her. She asked if they could lie on a quilt on the floor. Sonny was mildly surprised, but it was okay with him. When Ruth saw that he didn't think it was wrong of her to want it all to be nice she was so relieved she couldn't speak. She walked to the hall closet, naked, and got an old blue quilt that she and Herman had quit using years ago.

They spread the quilt on the floor by the little gas stove and sat a moment watching the flicker of the blue gas flames as they touched one another. They still couldn't talk, but they had ceased to be nervous, and they quit trying to conceal their loins from one another. For Ruth the quiet was wonderful. All she could hear was Sonny's breath and her own and she knew no one in the street could hear them breathing. She realized too that Sonny was enjoying her keenly and that made her glad. He was in no hurry and Ruth had moments of pleasure that were stronger than any she had ever known before. She discovered that Sonny didn't mind at all if she moved: in fact, he liked it. She became excited enough that her breath was ragged, but it was all still new to her and she could not pull the moments of pleasure together into one that was complete. For her the beautiful time was still afterward. Sonny was still inside her when he went to sleep, and Ruth found that lovely. It was almost as if he were a child inside her, and she put her calves over his legs to keep him there. When he finally came out she slipped upward on the quilt so that his warm cheek was against one of her breasts. It was so lovely that she wanted it not to change. That day, for the first time, she was regretful when he had to leave.

By the time Sonny had paid her a half-dozen visits he was everything to Ruth: he was what made the days worth confronting. The thought that he might quit coming filled her with terror. The thought of going back to the existence she had had before he came was too much to face.

Sonny allowed her to love him, though it was strange to him and he had to get used to it slowly. They were soon able to spend four or five hours a week on the old blue quilt. Ruth learned a great deal about Sonny and also a great deal about herself. After the first weeks she did nothing that would frighten him. She learned that he liked to be naked around her—it gave him a sense of adventure. She gladly let him, often mending his shirts or patching his pants after they had made love. She discovered that she had no particular modesty about her loins, only about her breasts, which seemed to her too small. Also she was afraid the small scar might disgust Sonny, since apparently it disgusted Herman. She took to wearing one of Herman's old hunting shirts while they talked. Sonny didn't like for her to wear anything while they were making love, but she always put it on afterward. She learned gradually how to play with him and how to tease him. One day she got a brush and comb and showed him a way to comb his hair that she felt was more becoming. Sonny was delighted. She would have liked to cut his hair for him, but there wouldn't have been time.

She soon made terms with lovemaking itself, though for a time they were not the best possible terms. She thought that once they relaxed with one another the beautiful thing would happen, the whole moment toward which all the sharp little individual moments tended. She had read about it, she expected it, she longed for it, and came very close to it, but it eluded her. For a week or two she was sure, every time, that it would happen. Once or twice she came so close that she was desperate for it to happen, and when she missed it after all her agitation was very intense. The violence of her excitement surprised Sonny and disturbed him a little: despite her weeping spells he thought of her as a quiet, rather timid woman. Her movements were sometimes so strong and unexpected that he was thrown off balance—once when she missed she was beside herself with disappointment. "Oh please," she said. "Please keep going." Sonny was already gone, but she continued to struggle against him until they were both soaked with sweat; he could not call himself back, and she gave up.