Impulse

As sometimes happens in a crowd, a quiet fell, and one conversation suddenly became general. A cousin was saying, “Well, after that they couldn’t allow her to be buried in the family plot. She’s off to one side, at the edge of the cemetery.”

“Who?” someone asked.

Another cousin hastened to assure them, “She wasn’t an in-law. That would account for several who never made the family plot, but Letty was a Cougar. Letty Cougar Milstone Wiggins LaCross Bernard. Those are the ones she married.”

“It wasn’t her interest in men that shocked everyone,” a female cousin said in a fact-keeping way.

“No. You’re right,” agreed another cousin. “The Cougars have always had a strong attraction for the opposite sex.”

That caused a good, indulgent chuckle among those cousins and siblings in the crowded suite.

But then the subject was changed, the different areas of the completely opened suite complexes led to more separate conversations.

Amy never did find out what Letty had done to be forbidden the family burial plot. Think of being shunned even in death! She wondered if Letty wouldn’t have wanted to be planted in another place entirely.

Before long, the cousins and siblings drifted outside. Especially the northerners wanted to be outside in the lovely March day. They shed jackets in the sunshine to walk and stroll the beach and select shells or play some of the games available.

* * *

Amy had never been anywhere in all her life where she suddenly knew so many people. It was marvelous fun to hear shouts of encouragement when she and Chas were in one of the paddleboats. Or to be watched by others as they used the putting course. And the critical observation with snide remarks when they were a part of a tennis foursome.

Men can feel competitive in sports with women, but Chas didn’t. She could never match his physical strength, but he paced himself so that their game was fun, and she could show off. He was an unusual man.

Only the Yankees joined her and Chas to swim. True Southerners know full well only Yankees and idiots swim outside that early in the year. Chas was so warm-blooded he could probably break ice and dunk himself without realizing the cold.

How marvelous it would be to sleep with a man like that. And she would soon know what it was like. By Saturday. The day after tomorrow.

Although Amy was dark haired, she had a redhead’s complexion. Her skin burned and didn’t ever tan, so she used sunscreen, and she didn’t sunbathe. Therefore, she seldom swam outside.

So it wasn’t remarkable that she swam at an indoor club and her suit was a practice Speedo. It was perfectly comfortable. Although it was cream colored, it was cut high in the neck, front and back, and it fit down over her hips for swimming comfort.

It was, indeed, comfortable. However, as feminine attire, it didn’t begin to compare with the other suits on display.

Chas smiled at her as she reluctantly took off her toweling robe. Then he gasped, “My God, you could be naked! It’s like a second skin.” His eyes glinted and his smile widened.

She blushed in pleasure. But for a modest woman, why should she like it that she looked almost naked to him? She reasoned she liked his saying that because he might not be too reluctant to submit, if it pleased him to look at her.

It certainly pleased her to look at him. She had to do it in quick glances because she had to resist the need to stare at him. He was something! He was so beautifully male. No one would mistake him for anything else. A no-waist-wedge. Nicely hairy. Muscles. His bathing shorts were like those of all males.

She was getting a little excited about him. Some unusual licks of feelings coiled and uncoiled deep inside her body. She had to swallow and blink.

She could swim quite nicely and she didn’t mind getting wet, so they played recklessly. She tried vigorously to drown him. He handled her without any effort at all. He chuckled. He had a great laugh.

His hands were a little careless but not groping. He let her take a breath before he pulled her down in the magic waters, and he kissed her very uncousinly.

She might be able to get him in twenty-four hours! That would be some sort of record, she was sure of it. Men weren’t the only ones who had their wily way. So did Amy Abbott Allen, the man-izer.

They said men notched their bedposts. How would she keep track? A pencil mark on her closet wall. A perfect solution. That would be discreet.

Then only she would know the full extent of her conquests. Her reputation would remain intact, and her mother wouldn’t start searching for a Presbyterian convent.

Now why wouldn’t people be as tolerant of a woman, who was a man-izer, as they were indulgent and titillated by a man who was always after women? Prejudice. Everyone should fight prejudice.

It rather pleased Amy to think she was taking up the Women’s Cause in seducing Chas. It gave a nice tone of unselfishness to her indulgence.

She sneaked a peek at him. How brave of her to seduce him for womankind. She laughed.

He looked up and grinned back. “What’s funny?”

She replied, “The day. The sun. Your ineptness in swimming?”

He took her to the bottom of the pool again. And again he kissed her. As they surfaced, and she pushed back her black hair, her blue eyes were almost hidden by her water-spiked lashes. She said, “See? You’re on the bottom of the pool all the time. You don’t know how to stay on the surface!”

She almost made it to the edge of the pool before he caught her. She laughed and gasped for breath, knowing what he’d do— again— but instead he held her across his arms and moved her about the pool in the most charmingly peaceful way.

He was powerful. His muscles roiled as he used them in handling her. His movements were so effortless. Seemingly effortless.

It no longer pricked her conscience when his family called her “cousin.” How quickly she had adjusted to being a part of them. From her lazy pool bed, with Chas her movement and buoyancy, Amy saw Connie and Matt walking along the latticed path as it wound near the pool.