happiness you can find.”
“I’m forty-eight,” she said wryly. “Look at me. The only attraction I can offer is my money. I’d run last against the competition of younger women and girls.”
“You’re wrong,” he said. “Physically your face and body are still good. In two months we can turn back the clock fifteen years as if you were thirty again.”
She laughed. “Cosmetic surgery?”
“Don’t knock it,” he said. “The techniques today are unbelievable.”
“And even suppose I do it,” she said. “What could I do with it? I know nothing of life. I think I’ve only had sex once in my life. As a girl in the backseat of a car, and I hated it.”
“That too can be corrected,” he said.
She shook her head. “Judd, Judd. You really don’t understand, do you?”
“Maybe it’s you who do not understand,” he said.
“You sound like your father,” she said. “That’s what he used to say.”
He smiled. “Do you remember when I was twelve years old and I fell out of the willow tree onto the lawn of my home in Connecticut?”
She nodded. “Yes, I also remember your father was very angry because you would never explain why you had climbed the tree knowing the willow branches were very weak.”
“I couldn’t tell him,” Judd said.
“Why not?” she asked.
“I climbed that tree because I could look into your window and see you walking naked in the room. The minute I would see you I began to masturbate.”
“I don’t believe it,” she said.
“It’s true,” he replied. “And one time I orgasmed and took my hands off the branch. That was when I fell.”
She began to laugh. “Children.”
“I never forgot it,” he said. “I can still see it in my mind. Even now, sometimes between being awake and sleeping, I find myself stroking myself.”
“I never thought about it, never saw it,” she said.
“Too bad,” he said. “I used to think that if you could see me and watch me, it would be even more exciting.”
She was silent.
He looked at her. “Thinking about it even now makes me hard.”
She rose from the couch. “It’s been a long difficult day,” she said. “I think we’d better go to sleep. The plane is leaving in the morning.”
He grasped her arm and pressed her back to the couch opposite him. “Freud,” he said.
“What about Freud?” she asked.
“He said that frustrations make for insanity.”
“You made that up,” she said. “I never heard that.”
“I want you to sit there and watch me.”
“No,” she said. “That’s really insanity. You’re not the child you were then and I’m not the girl you were watching.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. Nothing has changed. You and I are still the same as we were.”
“In your mind,” she said.
“What else is there?” he asked. “Except what’s in the mind. You’re still beautiful.” He unzipped his trousers and held himself. His voice was husky. “You don’t have to do anything. Just watch me.”
She felt his fingers gripping into her arm and stared at his phallus growing larger in his hand. She felt the choking in her throat as if she couldn’t breathe. She saw the reddish purple glans pushing above his foreskin and his hand a blur holding himself. Then a growling sound came from his voice and semen began spurting crazily over his hands and trousers.
She turned away then to his face. The cloudiness of his eyes began turning to the usual cobalt blue. He watched her for a moment, then smiled slowly. “Fifteen years,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
“Get me some Kleenex,” he said. “I’m a mess.”
Silently she went behind the bar and came back with a box of Kleenex. He looked up at her. “Clean me up,” he said.
Without speaking she took several tissues and swabbed him. He looked up at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
“I feel stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” he said. “You’re free now. And so am I.”
She carried the Kleenex box to the
“I’m forty-eight,” she said wryly. “Look at me. The only attraction I can offer is my money. I’d run last against the competition of younger women and girls.”
“You’re wrong,” he said. “Physically your face and body are still good. In two months we can turn back the clock fifteen years as if you were thirty again.”
She laughed. “Cosmetic surgery?”
“Don’t knock it,” he said. “The techniques today are unbelievable.”
“And even suppose I do it,” she said. “What could I do with it? I know nothing of life. I think I’ve only had sex once in my life. As a girl in the backseat of a car, and I hated it.”
“That too can be corrected,” he said.
She shook her head. “Judd, Judd. You really don’t understand, do you?”
“Maybe it’s you who do not understand,” he said.
“You sound like your father,” she said. “That’s what he used to say.”
He smiled. “Do you remember when I was twelve years old and I fell out of the willow tree onto the lawn of my home in Connecticut?”
She nodded. “Yes, I also remember your father was very angry because you would never explain why you had climbed the tree knowing the willow branches were very weak.”
“I couldn’t tell him,” Judd said.
“Why not?” she asked.
“I climbed that tree because I could look into your window and see you walking naked in the room. The minute I would see you I began to masturbate.”
“I don’t believe it,” she said.
“It’s true,” he replied. “And one time I orgasmed and took my hands off the branch. That was when I fell.”
She began to laugh. “Children.”
“I never forgot it,” he said. “I can still see it in my mind. Even now, sometimes between being awake and sleeping, I find myself stroking myself.”
“I never thought about it, never saw it,” she said.
“Too bad,” he said. “I used to think that if you could see me and watch me, it would be even more exciting.”
She was silent.
He looked at her. “Thinking about it even now makes me hard.”
She rose from the couch. “It’s been a long difficult day,” she said. “I think we’d better go to sleep. The plane is leaving in the morning.”
He grasped her arm and pressed her back to the couch opposite him. “Freud,” he said.
“What about Freud?” she asked.
“He said that frustrations make for insanity.”
“You made that up,” she said. “I never heard that.”
“I want you to sit there and watch me.”
“No,” she said. “That’s really insanity. You’re not the child you were then and I’m not the girl you were watching.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. Nothing has changed. You and I are still the same as we were.”
“In your mind,” she said.
“What else is there?” he asked. “Except what’s in the mind. You’re still beautiful.” He unzipped his trousers and held himself. His voice was husky. “You don’t have to do anything. Just watch me.”
She felt his fingers gripping into her arm and stared at his phallus growing larger in his hand. She felt the choking in her throat as if she couldn’t breathe. She saw the reddish purple glans pushing above his foreskin and his hand a blur holding himself. Then a growling sound came from his voice and semen began spurting crazily over his hands and trousers.
She turned away then to his face. The cloudiness of his eyes began turning to the usual cobalt blue. He watched her for a moment, then smiled slowly. “Fifteen years,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
“Get me some Kleenex,” he said. “I’m a mess.”
Silently she went behind the bar and came back with a box of Kleenex. He looked up at her. “Clean me up,” he said.
Without speaking she took several tissues and swabbed him. He looked up at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
“I feel stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” he said. “You’re free now. And so am I.”
She carried the Kleenex box to the
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