CHAPTER THIRTEEN

They met at the gate to the woods and he held the light low at her feet so that she could see where she was going in the darkness.

"Any problem getting away?" he asked.

"None at all." she replied, "What about this morning? Did you hurt yourself?"

"No. I guess I've just never quite recovered from my illness in India."

"I'm sure that you hate Clifford!"

"Ah, I don't hate people like him. They're just men without any balls."

"Balls?" Connie asked.

"You know, between the legs ... balls. I mean he has no fire in him, he's kind of calm and womanish."

"And you don't think of yourself as calm?"

"Not really."

She walked next to him silently for the rest of the way and wondered why she was with him. When they finally got to his home, he shut the door and locked it behind him. Connie could not help thinking that it was as if she were being held prisoner.

She sat down in one of the dining table chairs, while the gamekeeper fed his dog and removed his boots. The house was hardly decorated at all. She saw only one picture on the wall, an ugly one of two people who seemed to have just gotten married.

"Is that you there in that picture?" she asked him.

He turned and looked behind him as he finished with his boots.

"Oh, that. I'd almost forgotten about that. Yes, I'm afraid that's me just before I married. I hate that picture!"

"Well, if you don't like it, why don't you burn it?" Connie suggested.

He looked at the picture again and thought about what she had said. It really was an embarrassing picture. His wife had left it here on purpose so that he might miss her.

"You know, that's not a bad idea at all," he said, getting up and removing the picture from the wall. He then went into the kitchen to get a hammer. When he returned he began to take the picture apart. When he finished, he took one last look at it.

"My God. Look at me, so clean and stupid. And look at her, so cruel-looking. Why couldn't I see that back then?" he wondered aloud.

Then, he tore the picture into little pieces and threw them all into the fire.

"Why don't you get divorced?" Connie asked.

The gamekeeper suddenly looked up at Connie with a serious look in his eye.

"I suppose that I never felt I'd find another person to love, and seeing as I hate dealing with people, I thought I could avoid going through all that. However, I suppose you're right. I should just divorce her and be done with it all."

Connie liked hearing this. She asked the keeper to tell her more about his wife.

"Well ... I had a couple of girlfriends before her, but none of them liked sex. They couldn't enjoy it, so I left them all. When I met my wife, Bertha, I thought I was the luckiest man in the world, for she wanted me and loved the sex. So, we married and fucked like two little bunny rabbits. But then she started to get lazy and wouldn't do anything around the house. This made me angry and we began to fight more often. Soon, she stopped having sex with me when I wanted it. It seemed that she only wanted sex when I didn't want it. And she became selfish with sex, too. I'd always give it to her whenever she was ready, even if I didn't really want to, and then she'd take the longest time to come to her climax. She would force me to lie there and let her do all the work, jumping up and down on top of me for the longest time: Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! I tell you, I hated it. There was no feeling in that woman! Anyway, we started to hate each other. When the child came, I decided to join the war and got as far away from her as I could. After Bertha, I decided that I'd never have another woman again."

"So, what do you think about me?" asked Connie.

"I guess I feel both happy and sad. I know that difficulties are going to follow, but I also enjoy being with you."

Connie told him that she could understand his feelings, because she, too, had had bad experiences with men in the past. She had also felt that there were no men out there in the world for her.

"We need to just forget about all of that," she said.

"Ah, terrible things will happen to us soon enough. Believe me," he said darkly.

"Don't say that!" she cried, running into his arms. "You're so negative! You talk about women being cold, but look at how you're being now!"

"All this time, I'd just known what I wanted from a woman. I wanted a woman who could reach her climax at the same time I did. I wanted someone who could fuck with feeling. Most people cannot. They only care about themselves."

"But you seem to be just as cold sometimes as these people you're complaining about!" Connie countered.

"Hm. Well, if that's how you see it," said the gamekeeper moving away from her, "I'll sleep down here and you can have the bed upstairs."

"What? What's wrong with you now?"

The gamekeeper looked up at her then and saw how confused she was by his behavior. He then felt sorry and took her into his arms again.

"I'm sorry. Let's not fight. I love you and your soft skin."

He then placed his hands under her shirt and began to feel about her breasts. Her softness soon made him very hard.

"Let's promise to be together," he said.

"Really?" she said, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Yes, really. With all of my heart and penis."

Then he came into her there, in front of the fire, where the picture had burned. When they finished, they went up to bed and slept.

The next morning, Connie awoke to find the gamekeeper watching her sleeping as he lay next to her, running his finger along her breasts. It felt wonderful to wake up in his home. She felt free and easy. She took off her nightgown and asked him to take his pajamas off.

"Would you open the window and let the sunshine come into the room?" she asked him.

He got up from the bed and walked, naked, to the window. He became embarrassed and covered himself as he turned back to face Connie.

"No, don't hide him. Let me see all of your body. Ah, how beautiful you are!" He returned to the bed and she crawled to the end to meet him, letting her two breasts gently touch the end of his penis.

"He seems so confident, doesn't he?" Connie said.

The gamekeeper looked down at the area between his legs. His penis was surrounded by dark, red hair.

"His name's John Thomas and I believe that he wants some cunt right about now. Isn't that right, John Thomas? How about some Lady Jane?"

And then he took hold of Connie and entered her again. Afterward, they lay still for a while. She took a look at the gamekeeper's penis under the blankets.

"Look at how small he is now! He seems so harmless."

And then, she took hold of it and kissed it very softly. Immediately, she could feel its hardness beginning to return.

"Yes, he is yours. Do whatever you want with him!" the gamekeeper said to her.

She rolled the man over and got on top of him, placing John Thomas deep inside of herself. A wave of pleasure moved through her whole body as she moved.

Soon the morning whistle of the neighboring mine could be heard. It was seven o'clock.

"I guess you need to be going?" said the gamekeeper.

Connie hated it that she had to return to that other home, that other life.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

"Now, do I have to say it for you to know it?"

"Don't ever let me go. Can you promise me? I want to live with you. Do you want that?"

"Yes," he answered, "I do, but you shouldn't ask me this now. It's a little too soon. Give me some time. I love being in bed with you. I love your legs and your ass. Just don't make me say such things now. Give me time."

Then he rose, dressed himself, and went downstairs. Connie did the same, although she really did not want to leave. Before going out the door, she turned to him.

"I know it's impossible, here. But soon, I want to live with you."

She then left and returned to Wragby, where she snuck, unseen, back to her bedroom.

(end of section)