🎧 285: To help ...

     To help move matters along, Mrs. Mills left Herb and Alice alone whenever she could arrange it. After several evenings of petting that ended with Alice’s whispering, “We mustn’t, my darling, we mustn’t,” Alice apparently succumbed to the heat of passion. At the point in their petting where (her blouse off, her bra undone, so much smooth, pale skin glowing in the dark, Herb’s shirt open, his belt loosened, Herb tugging at one of her nipples with his lips, she felt Herb’s hand reach above the tops of her stockings, felt him rubbing her thighs) she ordinarily pressed her legs together and whispered, “We mustn’t,” she sighed instead and seemed to melt, let her body drop slowly backward on the sofa, as if she were putting her head back to let herself float on a wave, and whispered, “Take me, my darling, please take me.”
     When Herb did, the little cry that escaped from her and the expression on her face when she looked deep into his eyes (an expression that she intended to say, “I feel pleasure, my darling, a new and thrilling pleasure, but my deepest pleasure comes from giving to you something wonderful and precious, something for which I know you must certainly be very, very grateful”) had been rehearsed. In anticipation of this grand moment, Alice had practiced often, in her bed, manipulating the darning egg handle with one hand and sighing, panting, smiling, and grimacing into the mirror that she held in the other. She had gotten rather good with the darning egg handle and had developed a repertoire that pleased her: ease in, eeeease out, sliiide in, sliiide out, thrust, retreat, thrust, retreat, thrust, retreat, in, out, in, out, eeeease in, eeeease out, eeeease in, eeeease out, thrust, thrust, thrust; repeat as needed. She was a little disappointed to find that Herb didn’t follow this satisfying pattern, but, still, this was the moment she’d been waiting for, and she was determined to try to make the best of it.
     “Oh, my darling, my darling Herb,” she said. “My poor darling. How often you must have dreamed of loving me like this, in the war.” She sighed and smiled. “Are you happy, Herb? Are you happy right now?”
     “Yes,” said Herb. “Yes, I’m happy.” He was lying. He certainly wasn’t unhappy, but Alice didn’t make him happy. At some time, after he had penetrated Alice, while he was moving in her, he had felt a curious sensation come over him, a sense of detachment, something like the disembodiment he had felt when he was hit by that shell fragment in France. Then, his mind had taken him aside, as a protector might, pulled him a step or two away from the place where that poor body, which happened to be his, was being ripped and splayed. His leg had suffered the pain; his self had stood apart. Now, his mind had taken him a step or two away from pleasure. His penis was having a wonderful time, the time of its life, slipping, sliding, slurping back and forth in Alice, delicious, lubricious Alice, but his mind had begun to wander, and in a vague sort of way it seemed to be headed for Chacallit.
     “Oh, so am I, Herb,” said Alice. He heard her, but he’d forgotten what she was talking about. Alice swallowed, and her eyes grew misty. The truth is that her mind had begun to roam around a little, too. She was puzzled and annoyed by the fact that, although Herb was, certainly, enjoying her, he didn’t seem to be enjoying her as much as he had enjoyed her when Alice had imagined herself as him enjoying her. With a little inner sigh, she admitted to herself that, therefore, Herb must not really be the right man for her after all. She was going to have to let him go. A lump formed in her throat when she thought about the pain she was going to cause him, the sadness he was sure to feel. She resolved to be very kind. And for now, she would make the best of things, not only for herself, but for Herb, too. She owed it to him, after what he’d been through, for all the time he’d yearned so for her, and — a surprise. A surging rush of sensation, a thrust, another, thrust and thrust again, lively and — oh — lively and — hot-headed compared to that darning egg handle, and a shudder ran through Herb, that ecstatic shudder, and his thoughts came dashing back to join his penis in its happy pop, its rip, its roar, its hip-hooray!
     And then, slowly, quietly, while Herb lay with his head on Alice’s breast and she ran her fingers through his hair and wondered whom she might try next, Herb’s thoughts wandered off again, to Chacallit, and brought him another ecstatic thrill, the thrill that comes when one is surprised by a truth, in this case the truth that he would rather be with Lorna.

In Topical Guide 285, Mark Dorset considers Tools: Darning Egg and Sex: Aids, Toys, and Tools: Dildos from this episode.

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