"Darling--"
"Look," I said with some firmness. "We had our little interlude, I told
you. Can't you find someone else for tonight? What about that fellow I
saw you with this morning, eh?"
Scorn made Bonnie look more popeyed than ever. "He's a boy. I need a
_man_, Al."
"Not this one," I said.
"I'm not ugly, am I? I'm as attractive as that waitress of yours. Or is
it the Richards slut you're after tonight? Anyone but me, eh, Al?"
"Come off it, Bonnie," I said annoyedly. "I'm not interested in any of
them. I just want a good night's sleep tonight. Clear?"
Her shoulders sagged. "All right," she murmured in a theatrical
whisper. "Take me and cast me aside. Just like all men. You--"
I didn't give her a chance to finish. Nodding curtly, I strode away
from her and into the Social Hall.
The program for tonight was movies. Amateur movies, taken at the colony
the summer before by Dr. Richards, and edited over the winter. I
entered the Social Hall and found Joanie Baker and a couple of others
busily getting benches lined up and the screen assembled. Joanie was
more completely dressed than I had ever seen her before--a button-front
sweater and a pair of toreador pants. The sweater was open in front,
leaving her breasts all but bare, and the pants molded her figure
sensuously. I grinned at her and pitched in with the benches. After
five minutes the place was in order for the evening presentation.
"Whew!" Joanie said. "I'm all sweated up." Unself-consciously, she
slipped out of her sweater and used it to blot up the perspiration on
her breasts and arms. "I saw Bonnie talking to you again. If she's
bothering you we can give her a warning."
"No, leave her be," I said. "I think she'll call off the hounds now."
"Let's hope so. You must be all tired out after today," she said
brightly. "I saw you playing baseball, and volleyball, and swimming--"
"I had a busy day," I told her. "I got a lot of writing done too."
"I'm glad," she said. She flashed that wonderful girl-scout smile and I
knew she really _was_ glad. Then, splendid breasts bobbing, she skipped
off to get the projector ready. Dr. Richards walked in, carrying a
can of film. Behind him came Sandra. She was fully dressed, looking
seductive and kittenish in her tight sweater and tighter blue jeans.
She gave me a slow, deliberately sensuous look, and walked on past.
The colonists began to assemble now. It was definitely a cool night,
and there wasn't an exposed thigh or buttock to be seen--nor bosom
either, after Joanie donned her sweater again. We were quite a decently
attired assemblage that evening as the projector was snapped on.
The film was called, with a coyness that failed to amuse me, SUNNY
DAYS AT SUNLAND. It was eight-millimeter stuff, in color. There was no
soundtrack, but somebody had dubbed in a musical accompaniment. It was
strictly home-movie stuff, but not bad, as home-movie stuff goes. And
if the footage had fallen into the right hands it could have made quite
a nifty item for the college fraternity set.
The film opened with a solid background, flesh-colored, which turned
out to be a woman's back right up against the camera. She began to walk
away from the lens, and it was easy to see that that back and those
buttocks could belong only to Joanie Baker. When she was twenty feet
away she turned and waved at the camera, front view, an effect that
could blind someone who wasn't prepared for a body of such splendor.
Then the camera showed Joanie bounding across the lawn, laughing in
delight as she ran, over to the volleyball court. A moment later a
game was in full swing, and the camera picked up some amusing angle
shots of jiggling breasts and backsides that caused general laughter.
I recognized about half the players. There was a good deal of "_There
I am!_" stuff from the audience, as well as identification of campers
who had not returned this year.
After the volleyball match, the camera showed some activity down at the
swimming area, and then an inning or two of a nude and coeducational
baseball game. A highlight of that came when Don Riemann tagged a
girl out at second base by slapping the ball down hard on her plump
posterior. I caught sight of a younger-looking Sandra Richards in the
outfield. The camera panned to a couple of the teenage set, who giggled
shrilly as they saw their immature selves of a year earlier.
After visits to the crafts shop, the mess hall, and the music room,
the film concluded with an end-of-season event, the coronation of the
King and Queen of Sunland. I saw Don Riemann and Joanie Baker marching
in an imposing procession, wearing nothing but gilded crowns, while at
their sides walked two nice-looking teenagers I didn't know, the Prince
and Princess of last year's contest. There was a pageant, some nude
gymnastics, and the picture came to its end. I joined in the general
applause. I was almost coming to feel like a veteran member of the
colony myself, by this time.
For gags, Dr. Richards then put on a black-and-white film that had been
made eight years earlier. There were gasps and screams whenever anyone
familiar appeared on the screen. I was duly amused to see a breastless
and quite unseductive-looking Sandra wander across the screen. There
was a shot of Joanie, too, looking about fourteen years old, already
big and good-looking but with small breasts and narrow hips. She was
shown with a woman of about thirty-eight, identified as her mother, and
I saw where Joanie's good looks came from.
When the films were over, refreshments were served and dance records
were played. I took a couple of turns on the dance floor--one with
bulky Margaret, for whom I felt sorry, one with Mary Kinowski, and one
with Harriet.
It was Harriet who told me, "It's only on the cold nights that we ever
do any social dancing here. Dr. Richards won't allow it unless people
are dressed."
I was puzzled at first. But I could readily see how nude social dancing
could violate the canons of decency. I held Harriet tight against me,
feeling her hard breasts thrusting into me, and our bodies ground
sensuously together as we moved. Obviously it wouldn't be wise to
permit public nude dancing of this sort.
Harriet was interested in having me go back to her cabin with her, but
I ducked out of the invitation. It had been a full day for me, and I
was dead tired. I just wanted to get into the sack and shut my eyes.
At ten o'clock I returned to the cabin. With reveille at half past
seven, I wasn't in much mood for late-owl stuff here. Meehan was
nowhere around. I figured he was out somewhere with Mary Kinowski,
trying to make some time with her.