She pulled me down to her, and there was a devil's smile in her eyes.
I thought to myself, _Suppose someone comes along and catches us now?
Catches me making love to the director's teenage daughter? I'll get
hell. I'll get thrown out of here on my ear. I'll go to jail, maybe.
I'll lose my job and end up on the crap-heap on account of this little
sexpot._
But I couldn't stop now. I felt the desire in me again, and I shuddered
and made hoarse sounds and felt the pounding and heard the drumming
in my ears. Sandra let out a gasp too, but she wasn't finished, not
just yet. She continued to move while I hovered motionless above her.
She was using me, now. Shakes wracked her again and again, until her
appetite was sated, and she slumped down on the dock matting.
I moved away from her. I half expected to see an audience watching
us on shore, but there was no one there, and silence still shrouded
everything.
Sandra lay on the dock, her face flushed, her lips slack and moist.
"Come back here," she murmured.
"Go to hell."
"There's still more than an hour before breakfast. That's plenty of
time for--"
"No," I said coldly. "You're a devil. A sluttish little devil. Someone
ought to take a hot poker to you."