A love story you have not heard before.
Chapter Fourteen
"The Grail"
Fishing for the right key to the flat, Harry thought he could feel her apprehension and he told her that nobody lived on the lower level. "The owner has some stuff stored in there, that's all. We have the place to ourselves. I don't own it yet but I'm thinking about it. Anyway, I have that option, and a good lease. The land in the panhandle -- I own that outright."
YOU MEAN, YOU AND ANNIE OWN THAT.
Right.
The door opened into the living-room, and Harry switched on the overhead light there and the outdoor lights over the staircase. "You go on in while I run back down and get some stuff, okay?"
Harry took his time down there, locking up the truck, hooking Ivory's knapsack over one shoulder, comparing its weight to his light suitcase. Looking up and down the street to see if anyone was hanging around in the orange-sodium glow and checking out what he'd brought home....
He found her in the kitchen, picking up things out of the cupboards one-by-one and putting them back: a cup, a saucer, the tea pitcher, the crystal beer mugs, the sugar bowl. He watched her turn the pretty cover of the sugar bowl around in her hands. She was inspecting his stuff. Inspecting what might become her new home.
He followed her over to the linen closet, watched her carefully slide back the glass door, watched her fingertips run down the neat stack of towels, bedsheets, pillowcases....
All of my beautiful things -- somebody finally sees it!
Annie never could.... "You could've gotten the same thing cheaper at K-Mart."
Ivory switching the lights on in the bathroom, glancing back at Harry with a smile before venturing in. Harry's wonderful bathroom with the skylight and the fancy tiles and rugs and the wide window over the huge, old-timey, white-porcelain tub on brass, lion's-paw feet.
"All the pink towels are yours. That one there I bought for you right before I came to get you. When I hung it up in here I pictured you with that pink towel against your pretty, black body and I said to myself: If that day finally comes and you are really here, I'll thank God out loud."
Ivory pulled the towel off the rack and held it against her cheek, and looked Harry in the eye.
"Thank you, God," he said. "Thank you, sweet Jesus!" The words sounded ridiculous coming from him, but a deal was a deal.
Ivory hung the towel back up and went over to the third door, which opened into the bedroom. Her face fell at the sight of the big, brass, queen-size bed.
"Don't be afraid."
Ivory stepped in slowly, without switching on the lights this time. Harry moved around her and opened the windows. A gentle breeze moved the gauze curtains. The room glowed with the sodium-vapor street lights filtering in through the trees – the Christmas-palms, the mango tree and the fig and the avocado-pear, and the great poinciana tree that Harry parked the pickup under in the summer.
"This is the only two-story building on the block, so we have a nice view." Harry sucked in a deep breath. The air had a permeating, sweet and exotic smell that the pure country air in the panhandle did not have. This was the scent of adventure and the Caribbean – the scent of pirates and dark ladies and hibiscus and the sea.
"I'll never get tired of it." He watched Ivory peer into his closet, then the empty one on the other side. "Just thinking out loud – I love Miami. That closet is yours."
Ivory came away from her inspection and leaned out of one of the front windows.
Dear God, the way she moves....
"The screens for all the windows are down in the garage. But there never seem to be any mosquitos or flies up this high. Nothing like a window without a screen, huh? Pure and open and free.... Nothing to fuck up the view."
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
Harry approached her and gave her a gentle hug from behind, feeling the firmness of her chunky little ass. "Baby, I'm hurting from that long drive. There's a couple beers left – I'm going to have one and take a shower and hit the sack." She stiffened, and he kissed the back of her neck. "Don't be afraid, now. All I want you to do is tell me which side of the bed you think you want to sleep on. I'm not going to bother you tonight so don't worry. Okay?"
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
"So which side?
Ivory stepped back and looked all around the room. She was smiling again. Finally, she pointed to the side nearest the front windows, the side where you could see what was going on outdoors, the side Harry usually slept on.
"Okay! Good for you. Now pick out a pillow."
There were three pillows on the bed and Ivory finally picked out the thinnest one.
"All the linen's clean. I put new sheets and stuff on before I left to get you. You want to take a shower?"
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
"Want to take yours first?"
"Noooo.... You can go firs'."
"Or maybe you'd rather have a bath." Harry wondered if he would have to adjust the water for her.
"Noooo.... A shower is okay.... You go firs' an' I'll look aroun' a little longer."
"This dresser here is yours, too, if you want to unload that knapsack. And you can adjust the mirror over it, see?" Harry tilted it up a little.
silence....
Cars honking and a little shouting, in Spanish, down the street.... Jeanie's voice, closer: "Yes, mother!"
Harry had forgotten there was a Corona in the fridge. Better than Pabst in cans! He pried it open and headed for the bathroom. He wished he owned a pair of pajamas – at least the pajama bottoms. Before Ivory, there had never been any need.
With the water gushing into the tub before switching it up to the shower head, he wondered once more whether he would have to adjust the hot water for Ivory as he had for Sunday. Sunday was sharp in some ways, and a dumb-ass in others. Would Ivory turn out to be as stupid?
After the shower he brushed his teeth, following that up with dental floss. Flossing was a chore he resented. Rot, germs, decay – all part of the mine-field called Creation.
He came out of the bathroom with a blue towel tightly wrapped about his waist. He found Ivory sitting in a corner of the sofa in the living-room – the lights out.
"Did you bring a toothbrush and stuff like that?"
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
"Well, I'm through in the bathroom now. Do you want me to adjust the water or anything?"
"I know how to adjus' the water." Her words were crisp – a hint of irritation.
Cool, smooth, clean sheets and a light, fragrant breeze blowing across the bed. Harry lay on his back in the semi-darkness, covered with a sheet, the blanket thrown back. Immeasurably happy. Thankful. Imagining the unimaginable: Ivory sliding her long, slinky, young body alongside his. He listened to Ivory's shower in the next room. She was not running the water very hard.... Harry strained his ears to hear the quiet changes: the water trickling down on someone not moving very much, or moving slowly. For a long time.
And then the sounds of teeth being brushed – slowly, carefully. The commode flushing. More water running in the sink – for the longest time. Then silence.
It must have taken a lot of guts for her to take a chance on me....
She must've been desperate to get away....
It's a miracle her father didn't stop her.
She must be scared as hell to come in here now – bet she's hoping I'm asleep....
She knew what she was doing. And that nigger she stayed with in Apalachicola – it's not like she's a virgin or anything.... And she couldn't keep her story straight. First he's a tour-bus driver, then he's working at the paper mill.... When she writes these "Come and get me letters" she knows she's going to have to put out....
The door opened a crack, bathroom light piercing the bedroom. Ivory emerged, her long, African body a witch in the shadows. Short, black teddy and black, bikini panties. Short, knotty braids in two-inch-square plats....
The sliver of bright light cut off with the closing of the door, and Ivory glided around the bed without looking at him. After a moment of indecision, she flicked back the top sheet enough for her to slide in on her side.
Ivory....
Harry raised himself and looked down at her lying on her back, her eyes staring at the ceiling, the whites of her eyes the color of death in the dull glow from the street-lamps. Eyes locked with fear, yet calm. Familiar eyes. The eyes of a wounded animal in the woods that has just given up running. Waiting for the hunter.
Harry said softly: "You are so beautiful, Ivory." He leaned over to kiss her forehead, then forced himself to lie back down on his side of the bed.
After a few minutes, Harry felt her stir, and a long, warm, slender arm came to rest alongside his. The contact was electrifying, and he raised himself again and looked at her. Her eyes were still wide open – her face immobile, waiting....
"I'll never do anything to hurt you," Harry whispered.
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
Harry touched her hair, pulling himself up far enough so he could cup her pretty head in his hands. She looked so different without the bandanna. The rows of short, tight braids cushioned her little skull in his embrace. He kissed the row nearest her forehead.
"I love you, Ivory."
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
Harry laid her head back onto the pillow and slowly rolled away. Oh, God, I do love her!
* * *
The first time he awoke later that night, he found that she hadn't moved an inch – only her eyes had closed in sleep. How can she do that?! It's been hours! When he returned from the bathroom, hoping he wouldn't have to get up again considering all the beer he had consumed, he slid up beside her. Her face was so peaceful, as if in death, in the eerie glow from the moon and the city lights. Carefully, he pulled the blanket up over them both.
Thank you, God. Jesus. Or Whoever.
Address unknown....
I'll take good care of her.
Better care of her than You do.
But You always seem to take good care of me!
Did you send her? Is she real?
Harry laid back down.
Can I keep her?
He could not even hear her breathe, she was so still.
Once he awoke to find that she had finally turned. Her back was toward him and her solid, chunky little bottom was nestled smack up against his penis. Harry could feel the lacy edge of her panties and fancied pulling them off. With that thought, his penis began to grow and Ivory's young little ass twitched. He backed away and propped himself up to look at her and she seemed to be asleep. It was almost more than Harry could endure – he was so close, so hot to get into her. When he forced himself to back away he was near tears.
Coming back from the bathroom again, he wondered why she didn't have to get up. She'd had nearly as much beer to drink as he.
One more time he awoke to find that she had completely pushed back the covers and was lying on her back again, sound asleep, her long, sweet body resting alongside his, the light from the windows caressing the swell of her small, pointy breasts, a hint of devil-black where the nipples poked up the flimsy nightie, a hint of black shadow in the armpit of one, pretty, up-raised arm....
Ivory....
I told you you'd love her, Dad!
Janey....
Harry remembered the last part of their trip, the full moon over the Everglades, Ivory's head against his shoulder.
Perry likes to go out on full moon nights. Hunting. Exploring. Moving through the silence like I do.... My boy. His father gone....
Annie.... Hugging her pillow.... Annie – I love you!
Pounder.... That dog! Howling on full moon nights. Howling to get free of that chain. Freedom to run. To hit. To score.
But he kills chickens. The neighbor's ducks....
Maybe Pumkin lies with him. Lies against him....
Harry awoke again at first light. Roosters crowing – inner city chickens – only in Miami! Harry smiled. Pots and frying pans clanging. Sounds of family – kid voices. The first wave of workers getting up – early – hustling to get to that bus to Miami Beach on time. To the hotels. The muted sound of a car engine, the first automobile in the neighborhood to crank up – the door slamming.
Ivory was lying on her back again, her nightie hiked over her little tummy and exposing the knotty, slightly protruding navel. Harry could barely perceive her breathing. He saw a little girl twenty-two years old, and he saw a lady aged by the cruelties of nature and the lust of strangers. He looked at her until he could not bear to look any longer.
His mouth tasted bad and he backed away. Swinging his feet to the floor, he checked for hangover, headache, energy.... He felt pretty good! A cold shower would help. And a good tooth-brushing. One last look at Ivory sleeping. Should I cover her?
No. Let her know it was okay to expose herself to me.
How did I know about her before I saw her?
In the shower after putting the tea kettle on to heat, Harry attacked his body with a vengeance, scrubbing with soap and a luffa sponge, scrubbing his teeth, attacking his hair with a brush, and looking back at himself in the big mirror – blue eyes bright and relentless in their search for every new imperfection.
I'll be thirty-nine soon.... Then forty.
YOU WILL BE FORTY!
Is that what this is all about?
No.... It's her. Her ways, her spirit.
IT'S HER BODY!
Her body.... No, I felt her spirit first!
YOU ARE BULLSHITING YOURSELF.
Is that bullshit? She's so long and so graceful. Exotic. That's it! Exotic!
Strippers – the exotic ones: "And now, direct from Asia, Miss Hong Kong! Miss Burma! Miss Congo!"
Every man in the audience wants to cum in the beautiful, foreign bitch so bad!
It's not just me. I'm not crazy.
Sipping coffee alone in the kitchen, the sky brightening, Harry switching off the light there to enjoy the morning streaming in through the windows.
Naked. Should he get dressed? The bedroom. The morning sun streaming in upon his dream. The long, black, exotic, forbidden lady.... Harry carefully slid into bed but Ivory did not stir. He watched for movements under her lids to see if she was dreaming. There was no breeze now, and the pale, gauze curtains hung still. Harry leaned closer and kissed her cheek.
Her eyes popped open, looking past him, wide, unblinking, waiting.
"It's morning," Harry said. He kissed her forehead. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Mmmm - hmmmm." Ivory's eyes bright and wide open, staring at the ceiling. Her body motionless, waiting. No attempt to pull the teddy down over her tummy.
"You wake up so fast, like it's nothing. One second you're sound asleep and then here you are so... Oh, Ivory...."
"Mama, she say that. She say I'm a transistor radio that don' need no warm-up."
Harry watched her stretch out. "You are so beautiful."
"Mmmm - hmmmm." Ivory suddenly sat up, and pulled the nightie down over her tummy. She looked even longer sitting up, her back erect and her legs straight out in front of her.
"I brought you a cup of coffee." Harry handed it to her and hoped she drank it black. He watched her sip it, her eyes looking past him.
Suddenly, she swung her long legs over the side of the bed. "I have to go to the baf'room."
"I want to make love with you when you come back," Harry said, as gently as he could. He hated himself for saying it. "I have to, Baby. You are so fine."
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
Harry watched her move around the bed to the bathroom. So graceful – and so sad-looking now.
There was a long silence after Ivory closed the door. Then he heard the other two doors being gently shut. The flushing of the commode. Water running in the sink. Then a brief trickle in the bathtub. Then the sink again. Secret, female rites.
Ivory came gliding back to the bedroom tall and serene. Harry remembered when his heart would pound during PBS documentaries of African nomads, Tauregs and Masai and Nuba, proud and free – but trapped on the Planet Earth like everyone else nevertheless. Now he had one of his own, trapped in his lair, still proud. She stretched out alongside him on her back, eyes staring at the ceiling. Harry leaned over her and slid an arm around her tiny waist, and kissed her gently on the corner of her mouth.
"Ivory? Do you take birth control pills?"
Her eyes looking past him. "Nooo.... Mama say I don' need them 'cause I don' get my period."
"No period?"
"Well – the doctor say that maybe one day, well, he say the problem be in my head."
Harry pulled his body up against her and touched her mouth with a kiss. She did not respond but the feel of her soft, velvet lips (so warm!), and her long, firm legs against his emboldened him. He tried another kiss on the mouth but she did not kiss back. He lifted her head and kissed her forehead, her eyes, the corner of her mouth so warm and soft and pretty. He kissed into the depressions of her long, slender neck, then her mouth again. Still no response – no resistance, either – her eyes still staring up at the ceiling. Harry was aching and hurting to get into her so bad that he suddenly realized that he was about to come. He tensed up.
"Nightie off!" If this is the way it has to be....
Ivory sat up immediately and pulled the teddy off over her head.
"Panties off!" He said that without waiting to inspect and enjoy what the removal of her gown had exposed. The brutality and calmness Harry felt surprised him. Ivory snicked her tongue against her teeth at his last order but went directly to sliding down the little, black panties. Harry helped her pull them off her feet.
Now he studied her – it was all he could do – Ivory so naked and frightened and divine.
"Ivory, I can't stop. I have to do this. I love you, but... Oh, Ivory...." He ran a hand up the tough, smooth velvet of her leg and the lust for her forced his breath. He stopped to marvel at the unique pattern of her short, pubic hair: miniature, vertical, rows – close rows, unlike the pattern on her head. The rows looked natural. He laid his head against her thighs for a moment, feeling and savoring that tiny, stiff garden against his cheek. He turned his face and kissed the little rows and the almost invisible, fine line of hair bisecting her hard little tummy up to her navel, where the hair ended in a tiny tuft. Unique. Exquisite.
She's an alien....
Harry firmly pushed the far leg apart and tried to open her with his tongue. Ivory jerked upright and pushed his head away.
"You don't want me to do that?"
silence....
"How did you get your bush to, well, those pretty rows?"
Ivory lay back down and Harry looked her over again. If he could die now, he would consider his life nearly complete. He forced himself to wait.
"It come out that way. When it firs' grow in, my auntie, she say it in the family. But Connie don' have it. An' I'm not 'spose to let no boyfren' shave it or it grow out wild. An' no doctor or nurse shave it, neither."
"You are so special."
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
Harry's hand was trembling as he reached out to feel of her conical breasts, so firm, the nipples erect before he touched them. No scars. He felt of her nipples with his fingertips, his mouth, his tongue.
"They always be standin' up like that, an' sometime they hurt."
"God made them like that to make men crazy for you, Ivory. Like I am now."
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
Harry's loins throbbed to get into her. He moved up and kissed her forehead again, and her smooth(!) eyebrows, her warm, full, pretty lips.... "I could kiss your lips forever, they are so fine."
She did not kiss back. He tried again.
"I love your mouth, Ivory."
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
"Do you think I'm lying?"
"Ohhh – I know you're not lyin', but...."
"But what?"
"Well.... I think you say all that stuff 'cause you're...."
"'Cause I'm what? Horny?"
"Mmmmm – 'cause you're not – not normal."
"Ha! No, Baby, it's because I know what's good. Believe it!"
"Mmmmm - hmmmm, but I know my lips be too big, an' men don' like the lady be taller than them – an' my brothers, they say it, too, they say: when a man tell me I'm pretty I should look out! 'Cause they say it so they can do bad things to me."
"Oh, Baby...."
"An' my sister Connie an' my brothers, they not as black as me."
Harry lay back down beside her and cradled her wooly, knotty head in his arms. "You're my dream, Ivory. My beautiful dream." For a moment, Harry thought he might be able to relax, relent, be satisfied with the simple nearness of her. He pressed her closer to him and felt a drop of come – felt himself close to losing it all. He raised up and bent over her.
"Give me a kiss. Kiss me back!"
Ivory lifted her head and pressed him a quick kiss, and with Harry on top of her now she pulled her knees up and tilted her head back, and allowed his fingers to force their way. "Help me get in!" he yelled, but she did nothing more to help him and he penetrated her just in time, his greedy hands feeding on the desperate grip on the twin Heaven of her ass as the hot seed came streaming, jerking, bursting, spreading out deep inside of her. Tears ran down Harry's face, and his hold relaxed.
He lowered his head down beside hers, not wanting to crush her body with his. Still looking past him, Ivory felt his tears and touched them with a finger to his cheek. A fleeting smile. Her eyes turned to his and looked in. He did not feel sorry. He knew what he had done but he was happy about it. Ecstatic. And feeling himself still deep inside of her, his love for her grew even more. His arms tightened his embrace. He had never felt so good to be inside a woman, not even his first times.
After what seemed a long and wonderful time, Harry made a move to turn on his side, to lay back on his side to rest, but he was still hard up in her, and aching. This had never happened to him before.
"Ivory.... Beautiful lady. Can you turn on your side with me?"
"Mmmm - hmmmm."
She rolled with him like a cat, keeping him in, hooking a long, velvet leg over his. He pulled her close, his mouth open with surprise, his free hand roaming her back and her firm, little ass as he came again, throbbing, hurting, aching to force in one more drop.
They lay there on their sides for a long time, Harry holding Ivory close, in real pain now with an erection which would not go down. Maybe if he could just pull out of her – but he did not want to do that, either. Finally he rolled over onto his back without warning with Ivory right on top of him. She smiled, and he raised his head and kissed her mouth and she kissed back, pushing him down with her first, real kiss, and with that and the poking of her breasts against his chest he clutched her tightly and came again, crying out this time with the pain and the ecstasy of it – so frighteningly beautiful.
There would be no going back now. Ever.
When he was nearly asleep, he felt her ease off of him.
"Don't leave me, Baby," he murmured.
"I have to go to the baf'room."
Harry buried his head under a pillow and mashed it against his mouth. "Oh, God! I hurt, God! My body! My soul!"
"I'm sorry," Ivory said. "I haven't been wif' many men, I guess."
Many men....
Harry reached for her hand but she pulled it away. "You are beautiful beyond belief, Ivory. You'll never know just how beautiful. And I will always love you. Always."
Ivory disappeared into the bathroom.
And I'm sorry I forced you....
YOU ARE NOT SORRY. AND IT'S CALLED RAPE!
I couldn't help it.
A hundred-ten pounds and I can't feel a bone!
I could lie on top of her for an hour and still feel those hot, meaty tits. Those tough nipples!
Harry suddenly remembered where he had might have seen Ivory before. Not for real, but.... Under the bed, in a large, cardboard box was Harry's girlie-magazine collection – the books which were too good to throw away. One of them had been printed in Germany: a pictorial of African girls – Nubian girls – in their early teens, dancing at their initiation rites. Shiny-black, tall, narrow hips and little meatball asses, firm, pointy tits. Beautiful faces just like Ivory's....
I don't guess many Nubians were brought here for slaves – lived too far inland in Africa to be captured for the slave trade....
Didn't the Romans favor Nubian slaves?
On my tombstone it'll say:
HARRY SCHAFFNER
died with a hard on
...same long neck, narrow hips – same face.... A Nubian!
Speaks English, too!
Sort of....
Harry wondered at the length of time Ivory was in the bathroom. She had smelled so fresh and clean and wonderful....
I had to have her.
I couldn't help it.
<end chapter-14>
Copyright 1979, 2005 John Aalborg
All rights reserved.
Email: aalborg@jbaal.com
Chapter Fifteen
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Rev: 4 April 2005