“You bah-stud!” the Virgin Princess said loudly, indignantly, and quite clearly, in perfect Oxford English.
He jerked his head toward the elevator. The Virgin Princess was walking angrily across the room toward him. She was rain-soaked. Her hair hung wetly down her cheeks. Her blouse and skirt were plastered to her body.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in! Been out in the rain, have you, Princess?”
“You despicable bah-stud! I utterly loathe you!”
Clete laughed.
“I have been out of my mind with worry about you!”
And then she was on him. He quickly put his hand up to thwart her obvious intention, which was to slap him. He missed her wrist, and she punched him in the face.
Or, precisely, she connected with his nose.
“Hey, Jesus Christ! Take it easy! That hurt!”
She then slapped him, open-handed, on the head. The blow landed on his ear. It hurt even more than the punch in the nose. When he put his hand to his ear, she punched him in the face again.
He grabbed her. It took much more effort than he expected to hold her hands, then pin her to the bed. During this defensive tactic, she managed to kick his legs, his ankles, and his lower abdomen. She missed the symbol of his gender by no more than an inch.
But finally she was immobile under him.
“You didn’t even call me to tell me you weren’t dead!” the Virgin Princess said, and tears started down her cheeks. “On Christmas Eve, goddamn you!”
And then he was kissing her.
A minute later, when he felt her go limp, he rolled off her onto his back, breathing very heavily. After a moment he looked at her. Her nipples were clearly visibl
e, standing erect against her rain-sodden blouse and thin brassiere.
He raised his eyes to hers. She was also breathing heavily. Eyes locked with his, she put her hand to her blouse, tore the buttons open, then freed her breasts from the confinement of the brassiere.
He put his mouth on the one closest to him.
“Cletus!” she said. “Oh, Cletus!”
“You were a virgin,” he said.
“I wasn’t aware it was a sin to be a virgin.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Princess.”
“‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Princess,’” she mocked him, then rolled over on top of him.
“Princess!”
“I wanted to kill you,” she said. “I have never been so furious with anyone in my life.”
“Princess…”
“I thought the first time would be dreadful,” she said. “It was actually rather nice.”
“‘Rather nice’?”
“Was it nice for you too?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ!”