on a chair, "because I don't even know your last name."
"You know other things that are much more interesting," Byrne replied. The high heels she wore lent a certain formality to her. Paula had expected the same intimacy they had shared last time to reappear automatically, but Byrne seemed preoccupied. She refused to sit down, as though expecting another, more important visitor. She played with the ring on her finger and occasionally glanced out the window. Anxiety wrinkled her forehead.
"Byrne, am I intruding tonight?" An uncomfortable wedge of jealousy picked at Paula. She suddenly felt a demand for all of Byrne's attention.
"No, no," Byrne answered quickly. She patted the girl's hand. "Just one minute. I have something for you." She walked swiftly into the other room and returned with a large wrapped package. "See what I brought you?"
Paula took the brown paper off and revealed a set of charcoal pencils, an india-ink pen and half a dozen sketch pads of different sizes. Paula smiled her appreciation, but only thought that she mustn't waste Byrne's time. She would get right to work.
The easel stood in its place and Paula set the largest of the pads on it. "Going to pose for me?"
The old grin spread across Byrne's features. "Are you braver tonight?"
"Oh, much," Paula nodded with enthusiasm. She wasn't at all brave. But this was one way to get Byrne out of those horribly conventional and covering clothes.
Byrne dragged a chair across the room and sat down, turning her profile to Paula.
Paula hesitated. She stared at Byrne for a while, waiting for some inspiration to move her pencil "I liked it better the other way," she said in a small voice, not daring to look at Byrne.
She heard a laugh rumble out of the woman. It seemed to lap around Paula, dissolving her conviction—and her confidence.
"Well, it's true," Paula's voice shook. She could not stop the fierceness of the pride and the honesty which demanded freedom. "You have the most beautiful body I ever saw. Why don't you take off your clothes? Do you want me to draw properly?" Her cheeks flushed with passion.
"Don't get excited," Byrne replied mildly. 'If you prefer me nude, I have no objections."
With deliberate movement, she stood up. Slowly, she kicked off one shoe, then the other, her glance fixed on Paula. She pulled the zipper down and let her skirt slide to the floor.
Paula saw the white nylon of Byrne's slip and the outline of garters beneath. She's going to go all the way, Paula thought frantically. I've got to stay calm, I've got to stay calm.
Wordlessly, a smile holding a hint of cynicism flitting across her lips, Byrne pulled the sweater over her head, revealing the hollows of her cleanly shaven arm pits. The warm odor of her perfumed body floated on the air. She dropped the sweater carelessly and started to raise her slip. Paula clutched the easel, paralyzed by the thing that was happening to her. Her stomach contracted with waves of an unfamiliar sensation she could not name.
Byrne reached behind and unhooked the white garter belt that encircled her flat stomach. She undid the stockings and moved them with both thumbs down the length of thigh and calf. Then, not hurrying, she discarded her bra, freeing the firm curves of her breasts. With one final movement, she stepped out of her panties and stood full face to Paula.
'Is this what you want?" she asked. Her voice was soft and tense.
Paula released her hold on the easel and remained firmly planted on her own two feet. The loveliness before her gave the girl sudden clear strength. As though she had emerged from a long dark hall into the sunlight, she stood shining with the knowledge of her own motives.
Byrne's body was no longer a confusing challenge; her flesh was a goal to be somehow reached.
"Yes," Paula answered, and put down the pencil.
Drawn by her need, Paula approached that body and leaned forward to brush her lips against the bare flesh. But Byrne grasped her shoulders and held her
"You know other things that are much more interesting," Byrne replied. The high heels she wore lent a certain formality to her. Paula had expected the same intimacy they had shared last time to reappear automatically, but Byrne seemed preoccupied. She refused to sit down, as though expecting another, more important visitor. She played with the ring on her finger and occasionally glanced out the window. Anxiety wrinkled her forehead.
"Byrne, am I intruding tonight?" An uncomfortable wedge of jealousy picked at Paula. She suddenly felt a demand for all of Byrne's attention.
"No, no," Byrne answered quickly. She patted the girl's hand. "Just one minute. I have something for you." She walked swiftly into the other room and returned with a large wrapped package. "See what I brought you?"
Paula took the brown paper off and revealed a set of charcoal pencils, an india-ink pen and half a dozen sketch pads of different sizes. Paula smiled her appreciation, but only thought that she mustn't waste Byrne's time. She would get right to work.
The easel stood in its place and Paula set the largest of the pads on it. "Going to pose for me?"
The old grin spread across Byrne's features. "Are you braver tonight?"
"Oh, much," Paula nodded with enthusiasm. She wasn't at all brave. But this was one way to get Byrne out of those horribly conventional and covering clothes.
Byrne dragged a chair across the room and sat down, turning her profile to Paula.
Paula hesitated. She stared at Byrne for a while, waiting for some inspiration to move her pencil "I liked it better the other way," she said in a small voice, not daring to look at Byrne.
She heard a laugh rumble out of the woman. It seemed to lap around Paula, dissolving her conviction—and her confidence.
"Well, it's true," Paula's voice shook. She could not stop the fierceness of the pride and the honesty which demanded freedom. "You have the most beautiful body I ever saw. Why don't you take off your clothes? Do you want me to draw properly?" Her cheeks flushed with passion.
"Don't get excited," Byrne replied mildly. 'If you prefer me nude, I have no objections."
With deliberate movement, she stood up. Slowly, she kicked off one shoe, then the other, her glance fixed on Paula. She pulled the zipper down and let her skirt slide to the floor.
Paula saw the white nylon of Byrne's slip and the outline of garters beneath. She's going to go all the way, Paula thought frantically. I've got to stay calm, I've got to stay calm.
Wordlessly, a smile holding a hint of cynicism flitting across her lips, Byrne pulled the sweater over her head, revealing the hollows of her cleanly shaven arm pits. The warm odor of her perfumed body floated on the air. She dropped the sweater carelessly and started to raise her slip. Paula clutched the easel, paralyzed by the thing that was happening to her. Her stomach contracted with waves of an unfamiliar sensation she could not name.
Byrne reached behind and unhooked the white garter belt that encircled her flat stomach. She undid the stockings and moved them with both thumbs down the length of thigh and calf. Then, not hurrying, she discarded her bra, freeing the firm curves of her breasts. With one final movement, she stepped out of her panties and stood full face to Paula.
'Is this what you want?" she asked. Her voice was soft and tense.
Paula released her hold on the easel and remained firmly planted on her own two feet. The loveliness before her gave the girl sudden clear strength. As though she had emerged from a long dark hall into the sunlight, she stood shining with the knowledge of her own motives.
Byrne's body was no longer a confusing challenge; her flesh was a goal to be somehow reached.
"Yes," Paula answered, and put down the pencil.
Drawn by her need, Paula approached that body and leaned forward to brush her lips against the bare flesh. But Byrne grasped her shoulders and held her
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