Black Market

“All right. Whatever you say can be the official rules.”

For a moment they sat together, hugging, on the lowslung, quilt-covered double bed. Then, very slowly, they began to undress. A shivery draft slithered in from the casement windows; the cold air seemed to blow right through the tall black windowpanes.

Carroll was physically and spiritually entranced. Also frightened. He hadn't been with anybody for over three years. There hadn't been anything like this for so very long. He felt a little guilty, automatically comparing Caitlin with Nora, though he didn't want to.

Caitlin's hands had the lightest imaginable touch. Extraordinary control and gentleness as she tugged off his trousers. He felt everything begi

Then her palms. Rotating in easy circles. Into his temples. Gently pulling on the curls of his dark hair.

Carroll was inspired to remember that he was ticklish down both sides of his stomach. He had been since he was a little kid getting baths from his mother up in the west Bronx.

More feathery fingers. Teasing Carroll up and down the insides of his legs…

On to the callused balls of his feet, his bony toes, his soles…

Then everything was moving slightly faster; up another whole notch in tempo.

His body suddenly, involuntarily, spasmed. Jesus Christ.

Caitlin was doing some completely unexpected things to him.

She blew softly on the insides of her hands. She cupped warm fingers over his eyelids, then over his ears. She spoke in a voice that was nearly as gentle and sensual as her touch. “This is called a thrill massage. Believe it or not, it was the fad at little Oberlin College.”

“Yeah? You're very good at it. At this. You're wonderful, in fact.”

“Awh gee blush… Wild youth in long-forgotten midwestern cornfields.”

He was begi

She brushed his legs again… his upper back again… neck, scrotum. Only much faster, even lighter, now. Turning him into jelly, no container.

There was no real impression of fingers, he was noticing. Quite amazing. More like the softest combs of air.

How had she gotten this good?… A little unbelievable in a way… being who she was… Who was she, really?

Her lovely face came down very close. “Smile for the camera, Arch.” Faint, smiling whisper from Caitlin. “My heart is pure, but my mind is occasionally kinky.”

At some time, somewhere in all the light touching, brushing, tickling, Caitlin had taken off her jeans and blouse. She still wore pink underpants, wool knee socks. Her breasts had the loveliest, delicate, shell pink nipples. They were hard now, totally aroused. She touched one erect nipple, then the other, to the head of Carroll's penis.

She was a classic feminine masterpiece, Carroll couldn't help thinking, completely filling his eyes. She was so elegant to look at, to drink in like the finest wine. He remembered what she'd said before in the kitchen, and it made him smile: We're going to need at least an hour.

There was no longer such a thing as time; no Green Band urgencies existed right now. Carroll had the comfortable, wonderful idea that he trusted Caitlin Dillon… How could he so easily trust her already?

“Tell me all about yourself. Whatever comes out. No editing, okay, Carroll?”

To the continuing rhythm of her fingers, to the slightest crooning of the bed springs, to the dancing morning sunbeams, Carroll spoke the truth, as he knew it.

“Whole life story, about thirty seconds… As a little kid I always wanted to play for the Yankees, maybe, maybe for the football Giants. I settled for the Golden Gloves-Arch ‘White Lightning’ Carroll. Son of a New York cop. Very good, honest, poor cop. Typical Irish-Catholic family from the west Bronx. That's my youth. Notre Dame on scholarship… Law school at Michigan State, then drafted. I didn't try to dodge it, for some crazy reason.

“Four great, absolutely terrific kids. Kind of a perfect marriage until Nora passed away. That's middle American for she died… I'm, I think I'm a very different person when I'm with my kids. Childlike and free. Maybe a little retarded… um… boy… that's very nice… Yes, right there. Ohio, huh?”

“What else? You were telling me your life story Reader's Digest condensed version.”

“Oh, yeah… I have this recurring problem. Big problem… with them.”

“Who's them?”

Arch Carroll suddenly felt a sharp twist of tension. Not now. He made it go away.

“Just them… ones who make all the most important decisions… ones who rob people, without caring one way or the other. On Wall Street, down in Washington. Ones who trade terrorist murderers for i

Caitlin gently kissed Carroll's curly brown hair; she kissed his puffed cauliflower ear. She finally found his mouth, which tasted very nice, she thought. Fresh and clean and sweet.

“I don't like them, either. I think I like you. I think I like us. Please like me a little.”

“All I can do is try, Caitlin. You're beautiful. You're witty. You seem to be nice as hell. I'll try to like you.”

Somewhere else that morning…

“Now me. Your turn to…”

“This an' that, the next thing.”

“Really softly, Arch… with you that name's more like the verb. To arch. Anybody ever call you Archie?”

“Not more than once.”

“Tough guy,” she purred.

“Grrr. I'm a street cop.”

Carroll slowly rose onto his hands, then his knees. He was very hard, almost painfully hard.

At his first touch, Caitlin tightened her stomach. Then slowly she let herself relax. She tightened the abdominal muscles in her long flat stomach, then let herself relax again. She controlled her breathing magnificently, holding effortlessly for several seconds. Her pulse was slow, that of a long-distance ru

Where did she learn this stuff? he wondered. Not in Ohio; not at Oberlin College.

Her eyes closed softly. She was unbelievably easy to be with.

Carroll's pulse was thumping so damn hard. He'd never in his life held off this long, never felt excited in quite this way. His head grew light.

“Please wait. Okay?” Caitlin whispered to him. Her body spasmed lightly.

“Trying…”

“Just… wait… please… Arch?”

Carroll's brain was screeching, burning up. His body was a million raw exposed nerves-as he floated down, floated down, floated down. Finally-he went inside Caitlin, both of them hyperventilating.

Her mouth opened. Wider and wider, and unbelievable soft, delicately pink mouth.

Her face was generous, so surprisingly sweet in passion. She actually seemed to be smiling all the time…

Then Caitlin's eyes opened-looked at him-and she made him feel so good. Wanted again. So necessary to somebody.

“Hi there, Arch. Nice to have you here.”

“Hi yourself. Nice to be had.”

They moved faster together. Her hair slowly danced backward and forward. Her thick curls spread across the pillow, brushed, flowed majestically across his face-hid her eyes.

Carroll arched dramatically. He spasmed, shuddered, called out her name so loudly that it embarrassed him.

“Caitlin.”

It was a new way of saying… trust.

Completely new feelings were coming so fast… Old familiar feelings were returning.

Again: “Caitlin.”

“Oh, Arch. Sweet, dear Arch.”

He felt as if she knew him-instantly saw through his defenses, his poses… Finally, somebody… Jesus.

When it was over, when it was finally, finally over, neither of them could move at all… Nothing anywhere in the universe could possibly move. Not ever again.