Beauty and the Brain (40 page)

“Would you like some more?”

“No, thank you.”

“No? Well, then.”

This was crazy. Brenda, who’d sworn to
herself at least a decade earlier that she couldn’t afford to be
romantical about life and, therefore, wouldn’t be, decided now that
this particular decision had been a wise one. She wished she hadn’t
forgotten it with Colin.

However, she had invited Colin into her room
for a purpose. Ergo, they’d best get at it before someone decided
to interrupt them. First taking a deep breath and silently calling
on God to give her strength—although what God had to do with this
situation, she had no idea—she reached for the buttons on her
bodice.

Colin blinked and looked frightened.

Oh, this was too ridiculous. Why should he
be scared? She was the one who was the uninitiated virgin here. It
occurred to her suddenly that perhaps Colin didn’t know that. Or
perhaps he didn’t believe it, the cad. Perhaps he believed her to
be a woman of loose morals after all. Maybe he’d fallen for the
pervasive opinion of actresses and had tarred her with the same
brush, no matter how well he’d come to know her.

But she couldn’t allow herself to get
distracted. She wanted to experience this more than she’d ever
wanted anything, barring security for herself and her family.
Telling herself to get a grip on her nerves, she said softly,
“Would you like to help me?” Then she felt as if someone had set a
torch to her, she was embarrassed.

Fortunately—or unfortunately; she guessed
she’d have to decide that later—Colin started slightly and stepped
forward. “Yes. Thank you.”

She let her arms fall to her sides. So
gently she could scarcely feel them, Colin put his hands to her
bosom. Her eyes closed of their own accord. This was it. This was
the beginning of her fall.

No, no, no. That was the wrong way to think
about it. This was the beginning of a whole new world. Yes. That
was much better.

“Your—” The word ended in a croak, and Colin
cleared his throat. Brenda opened her eyes again and looked up at
him “Your dress got all smudged when you were helping George.”

She nodded, then forced herself to speak.
“Yes. It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“You were wonderful today, Brenda.”

“Thank you.”

“Lord, I’m nervous.”

“So am I.”

At least they seemed to be on an equal
footing, although Brenda assumed Colin had at least some prior
experience in lovemaking. If they were both as unskilled as she,
they might be in for a bumpy ride.

She’d expected him to continue unbuttoning
the front of her frock, but all at once he slipped his hands from
her buttons and around her torso until he held her tightly in his
arms. Ah. This was much more comfortable. Perhaps they would go
through a few preliminaries before they tackled the main course.
Brenda wished she’d thought of this instead of acting like a
hussy.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” Colin
whispered.

“So have I.”

The kiss they shared was so tender, Brenda
might have wept, except she feared she’d terrify Colin out of his
intentions. As she felt his sex engorge and enlarge, though, she
deemed such a thing unlikely. Gaining a modicum of courage and
boldness from knowing he desired her, Brenda rubbed herself gently
against him. He let out a hiss of pleasure.

Ah. This was better. If one of them stopped
being scared, they’d probably have a greater chance of success.
Whatever success in these circumstances turned out to be.

“You’re so beautiful.” He nuzzled her
throat, and she sighed delicately with the pleasure of the
sensation. She almost wished he hadn’t said that. She’d prefer that
he desire her for herself alone and not merely for her beauty,
which had been a gift from nature. She was sick of men only caring
about her beauty.

Silly Brenda. Her beauty was what had taken
her this far in life. She’d be a fool to discount it new. She was
getting what she’d wanted ever since she’d set eyes on Colin. And
if it was on account of her beauty, and if this was all she ever
got from him, if he refused to give her the benefit of his love or
even of his knowledge and learning, at least she’d always know
she’d had this much.

He’d started feathering light kisses over
her cheeks and forehead, and his hands had begun roaming delicately
over her back and down to her hips. She had far too many clothes on
for her to gain full value of his caresses.

She lifted her lips to his and kissed him
gently, wondering if he could feel the love in her heart. His own
lips were soft and full and warm and brushed hers with exquisite
tenderness. They were the most wonderful lips Brenda had ever seen.
His tongue pressed against her mouth softly, and she parted her
lips.

Oh, my, that felt good. His tongue was
velvety and gentle as it probed hers. She’d never done this before,
although she’d heard about it plenty of times. Theatrical folks
weren’t noted for their discretion. Snippets of giggled
conversations tiptoed through her mind as she melted into the
sensations Colin was drawing out in her.

Her body tingled all over. She felt as if
the blood had started dancing in her veins. Her nipples puckered
and began to ache. She felt a quiver in her lower belly and a
pressure between her thighs. When Colin’s hand pressed against her
hips, she responded instantly, fairly grinding herself against his
groin. Lord, she wanted whatever it was Colin had. She needed it.
Desperately.

“Brenda,” he gasped, and said no more.

She understood, having been fairly deprived
of speech herself. Knowing she was passing some sort of boundary
and she’d never be able to return, she deliberately fumbled with
the buttons on Colin’s jacket.

“Wait,” he croaked.

To her dismay, he let go of her and backed
away a step. She was about to protest when she realized he was
merely shedding outer garb. His jacket flew across the room and
landed with a soft plop. As if in a trance, she watched his collar
studs hit the floor. Seconds later his stiff celluloid collar
joined them. Then he started on his shirt buttons.

With a start, she realized he was getting
ahead of her, so she began unbuttoning, too. Her nerves jangled and
her fingers fumbled over their job, but at last the bodice of her
frock opened. She glanced at Colin’s eyes. They’d been watching her
hungrily. When she pushed her dress down and it puddled at her
feet, she saw him swallow.

His own shirt dropped from his fingers as if
they’d lost all muscular control. He ripped his undershirt off
quickly, as if he wanted to get the thing over his head before it
had a chance to hide her from his vision a single second longer
than it had to.

Brenda felt her mouth drop open. His chest
was a work of art. She, who had seen chests galore in her day, due
to the fact that most actors harbored a strange combination of
egomania and insecurity in their complicated bosoms and liked to
parade their wares for admiring audiences, was gratified. Colin was
perfect in her eyes. Not bulky, his musculature was well-defined
and beautiful. His chest was just hairy enough Not enough to make
him look like an ape, but interesting. Very interesting. “Oh,
Colin.”

He appeared worried for an instant, until he
understood her comment had been one of approval and not censure.
“I’ve, ah, done quite a bit of physical labor during my scholastic
career. Anthropology and archeology aren’t indoor pursuits.”

“No.” She gulped. “I mean, yes, I can see
that.” She paused for another second or two, taking in the glory of
Colin’s torso. He was tanned, too, as if he’d done a lot of outdoor
work without his shirt on. She wished she could have been there to
watch him. Better yet, she’d have liked to help. “I’m glad.”

His slow grin seemed to heat the air between
them. It took a minute for her to overcome her nervousness enough
to grin back, but she did it. “Well,” she said after a pause, “I
like your chest. I hope you like mine.”

She heard him suck in a quick breath as she
reached for her corset hooks. The garment dropped onto the gown
mounded at her feet. Very slowly, she reached for the straps of her
fine lawn chemise. It was her favorite, a delicate, feminine
garment, and Brenda was grateful she’d chosen to wear it today. She
loved its broiderie anglaise and satin ribbon trim and always felt
especially and mysteriously womanly when she wore it. It was an odd
thing, but it gave her courage, probably because it was both
ladylike and tantalizing

At least she hoped it was. From the look on
Colin’s face, it was plenty tantalizing. Slowly and carefully, she
slipped the straps down her shoulders. Colin’s breathing became
heavier. Encouraging, that. When the chemise snagged briefly on her
breasts, Brenda saw him swallow again. And then the chemise, too,
fell to her feet to rest there along with her corset and frock, and
she stood before the love of her life in nothing but her
pantaloons.

“My God,” Colin breathed.

Brenda took that as encouragement. Feeling
both shy and bold, she asked in a voice breathy with fear and
excitement, “Well? Do you approve?”

“Approve? Approve? My God, Brenda,
you’re—you’re like a goddess. One of the vestal virgins or
something.”

Vestal virgins? What in the name of heaven
were they? For a moment, she wondered if contemplating virgins
might put a damper on this pleasant interlude. But no. A glance at
the front of Colin’s trousers reassured her. “Is that a good
thing?”

He nodded slowly before he cleared his
throat and whispered, “Oh, yes. It’s a very good thing.”

“I’m glad.”

As if a mesmerist had snapped his fingers
and brought Colin out of the spell he’d been under, he shook
himself quickly and tackled his trouser buttons. Brenda watched,
fascinated. She’d never seen this before. As much as actors liked
to make exhibitions of themselves, no man had yet had the courage
to display himself in front of her naked from the waist down. She’d
had glimpses of what might await her, but she’d never seen it in
the flesh—so to speak before today.

Colin pushed his underwear down along with
his trousers, and Brenda gaped at the result. He popped, heavily
and fully aroused, from the fabric. His—thing—was very big.
Gigantic, actually.

Brenda’s eagerness suffered a slight
setback. Was this right? Was it even possible? Was this the way it
was supposed to work? It didn’t look like it to her, although it
must be. It was her turn to gulp

“Don’t be afraid, Brenda,” Colin pleaded, as
if it might kill him if she got scared and backed out now “I’ll be
gentle.”

She glanced at his face and discerned the
worry there. Poor Colin. “Don’t worry, Colin, I won’t back out
now.” That would not only be unsportsmanlike—and Brenda prided
herself on being a good sport—but it would be a terrible letdown.
No playwright worth his salt would allow such a thing to happen in
fiction. Brenda wasn’t going to disappoint in fact.

After staring for fully long enough to worry
that Colin might become embarrassed, Brenda dragged her gaze away
from his masculine member and allowed it to travel down his
legs.

Mercy sakes. Imagine an academician having
legs like that. Long, lean, heavily muscled, and spattered with
black hair, they looked as if they ought to belong on a cowboy.
Better yet, a gladiator. Or a pirate. Somebody who did lots of
athletic stuff, anyway. The phrase
columns of Hercules
drifted through Brenda’s brain as she admired them. Then she took
herself in hand and decided to move things along.

With trembling fingers, she untied the
drawstring to her drawers and let them drop to the floor.

They stood there for several seconds,
looking into each other’s eyes. Then, as one, they moved into each
other’s arms. “God, Brenda, I’ve dreamed of this ever since I met
you.”

“I have, too.” It was difficult to speak for
the sensations rioting in her body. Colin’s hands bad started
stroking her bare skin and igniting fires all over her. Heat danced
wherever he touched her, and the pressure to achieve release
increased along with the heat.

Suddenly, he stooped a little and picked her
up from the floor. She threw her arms around his neck and held on,
thrilled that he’d done such an impulsive thing. When he lowered
her to the bed, she kept holding on, and they were soon entangled
with each other on the soft, pillowy mattress.

“You’re so wonderful, Brenda,” Colin
murmured onto her stomach, where his lips had roamed.

Brenda lay back and luxuriated in pleasure.
“When we met, I thought you hated me.”

His low chuckle sent waves of prickles
through her. “No. I never hated you.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

She couldn’t stand just lying there any
longer. As Colin’s hands stroked a map of sensation from her
stomach to her breasts, she allowed her fingers to tunnel through
his thick, dark hair. He had beautiful hair, although she knew men
didn’t like to think of an about themselves as beautiful. Men were
so vain. Still, she loved his hair. Through sated eyes, she watched
his hands discover her body, inch by inch.

His skin was dark from having been exposed
to the sun for, so many years. Hers, as was the fashion, remained
as white as milk. The contrast excited her, especially when his
hands worked their way up to her breasts. Brenda was happy, as
she’d never been before, that she had substantial breasts, because
she’d always heard men liked women who had a certain amount of
flesh on them. She wasn’t huge, by any means, but her breasts were
a nice handful for Colin.

He took full advantage of them, too,
kneading them gently for a moment before he lowered his mouth to
each in turn. Brenda gasped and closed her eyes. The sensation was
almost too exquisite to bear. When he took her right nipple between
his teeth and gently nipped it, she thought she might die. His
tongue made magic on her skin. She began to utter little cries and
moans without being entirely aware of what she was doing