Candy was asleep in minutes, but I lay awake, staring into the dark. I tried to remember the pictures in Craig's drawer, and tried to imagine the two of us doing those things. I didn't need the photos of oral sex. I'd had three volcanic orgasms in a week from Craig's tongue, and the memories still glowed vividly. But reclining in a chair, while Craig kneeled before me and kissed my feet? What if I had him give me massages? Or cook and serve my dinner? That was harder to imagine. My whole life, the most I expected was to be an ordinary housewife, sending hubby off to work and the kids off to school, while I cleaned the house and took care of the shopping. All my schooling and everything in my environment had drilled that into me. But now my life had taken a new turn—several new turns—and I was going to be a college student—in engineering, no less!—and a handsome man wanted to be my slave! Life is strange.
When I woke in the morning, I had finally relaxed, though I had yet to come to a decision. I ate breakfast with Candy before she left for work, and then lay in bed reading a movie magazine. I did some laundry and bought a bag of groceries.
But just before leaving for my three p.m. shift, I pulled my large suitcase from the closet and left it open on the bed. I took the locket from the longest neck chain I had and threaded Craig's key on it. It hung around my neck so it was concealed between my breasts.
* * *
When was someone going to invent a suitcase with wheels on it? It would be such a simple thing to do. The cab driver had been helpful, and lugged it up the long sidewalk to the door, but I had to drag it through the inner lobby door and across to the elevator. On the fifteenth floor, Craig's apartment was only two doors down from the elevator, but the carpet made the suitcase that much harder to drag. I was out of breath when I finally took the key from my neck and let myself in.
When I woke this morning, I knew this was the only sensible thing to do. I'd already paid my half of the September rent to Candy and made her promise not to re-rent my room until the end of the month. That was my fallback; I had over four weeks to change my mind. The upside was that this thing with Craig might actually work out. The downside was...well, there was no downside. Even if we didn't click, I was sure to get some more of those fabulous orgasms from his tongue in the meantime. And until the room was rented, I could always move back in with Candy.
I left the suitcase near the door, opened the curtains, and began looking around. I found the cupboards where the food and dishes were stored. Bed linens and cleaning supplies were in a small closet. In the bedroom, the bedding was still mussed where Craig had slept. I knelt down and smelled the aroma of his body, trapped in the sheets. I wondered what things would happen in this room tonight, or this week. Or this year.
Before I thought about it, I'd opened the bedside drawer. I suppose it had been on my mind from the time I began to pack. The collection was still there, and I took it out and once more spread it on the bed. This time, it was easier to tolerate. It wasn't just a pile of dirty pictures; it was a window into the most secret place in Craig's soul, for better or worse.
I leafed through the photos, but they weren't interesting. A photo of a man licking a woman wasn't very exciting when I'd already had the real thing. I picked up one of the books and began to skim through it. The book was a cheap paperback entitled
The Queen Commands
. The pages were loose and the paper browned with age. On the cover was a nearly naked women reclining on a throne. A naked man knelt between her legs, kissing her high on the thigh. The woman's head and arms were thrown back in a posture of ecstasy, which I now understood.
I skimmed through the pages. It was the story of a man named George, a traveling farm machinery repairman, who took a wrong turn on the back roads of Colorado, eventually stumbling into a communal farm. But it wasn't like other communes. The place was full of women, and George stared in surprise. Suddenly, two strong women dragged him from his car and took him before the leader of the commune, whom the others called Queen Samara. She explained that the commune was a closely guarded secret, and he could not be allowed to leave. In this lost corner of America, women ruled absolutely. Men did all the work, naked or clad only in loincloths, while the women sunned themselves, swam, or selected men to 'pleasure' them. The context made it clear what Queen Samara meant by 'pleasure'.
I felt that tingling again.
