The Sex Life of the Gods
her swiftly. “Nothing serious. Beth, you’ve got to help me. Please!” He felt strange. It was like asking a total stranger for help, and he was ashamed and confused.

“Of course I’ll help you, darling. I’m your wife. Now come out to the kitchen where I can [p33]  patch you up.” Suddenly she burst into tears and held him close. “Oh, darling, darling! It’s so good to have you back!”

[p33]  

[p

]  

He held her until she had stopped crying, then he allowed himself to be led into the kitchen where she began applying iodine and bandaids to his scratched face. Weariness was again dragging at him like some clutching demon that threatened to drag him down into a bog of darkness. He studied her, trying to take his mind off his lethargy.

Beth Danson was about twenty-five and, besides her deep auburn-brown hair and lovely face, she boasted an equally attractive body. He found himself captivated by the warm thrust of her breasts beneath the silk blouse. The clear milk of her flesh, at the “V” of her throat excited him in a strange way. When he thought of her as his wife, it was frightening. It was as though someone had tossed him a woman and expected him to just fall into the routine of marriage. It wouldn’t be hard to come to love this woman, but it would take awhile. Hell, he didn’t know her. She was a complete stranger who had suddenly told him they were married. There was nothing familiar about her; even the fingers that were softly working over his face were alien.

Alien! That’s it! The whole damned world is alien, and I don’t know who I am, who I’ve been...

“Beth?” He asked suddenly, “how long have I been gone? You act as though it’s been a long while...”

“A long while, darling.”

“How long?”

She looked steadily at him for a moment, her eyes deep with seriousness. “Thirteen months,” [p34]  she whispered, her voice shaking.

[p34]  


 Prev. P 18/96 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact