Campus Tramp

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Authors: Lawrence Block
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flooding through her like water through a ruptured dam. Her hands held him to her and her fingernails dug into his back.
    Faster.
    His chest was crushing her breasts and her legs were like a vise around him. Her breath was so labored that breathing was an effort and she longed to stop breathing, to cease everything but lovemaking itself, to make love forever and to have forever the pleasure she felt now.
    Faster.
    Nothing had ever been like this, nothing she had ever experienced before. Nothing could be like this, nothing in the entire world; and if it didn’t stop she would go crazy, but she didn’t want it to stop, not yet, not ever, because God it was so good, so good and so wonderful and so unbelievable and so perfect, so wonderfully unbelievably perfectly good.
    Faster.
    Faster …
    They ended together. It was so good that she couldn’t even stop to think how good it was, could only enjoy it and love it and feel it in every part of her body and mind. Soaring all the way to the highest peak in the world and then pure peace, with him soft and limp and exhausted in her arms and so wonderful to hold, so hard against her softness, and their sweat making their bodies slippery and the tiredness leaving her completely at rest, completely at ease.
    It was so comfortable. It was so good, and that was the only word for it. Good. Good, and there was no better and no best.
    Good.
    She said Don very softly and very quietly, and she liked the way it sounded. Then she said Donald Gibbs just as softly and just as quietly, and she liked the way that sounded, too.
    Good.
    Very good.
    After a few moments he started to raise himself from her but her arms held him in place. He tried again and once again she held him.
    “Don’t,” she said.
    “I must be hurting you.”
    “You’re not.”
    “Aren’t I heavy?”
    “I don’t mind.”
    They remained that way for a long time.
    He was standing by the side of the bed buttoning the cuff of his shirt and she smiled up at him sleepily.
    “I have to go now,” he said.
    “Don’t go.”
    “I have to put out a paper.”
    She groaned.
    “Great business, newspapering.”
    She raised herself on one arm, ready to accompany him, but he pushed her back down on the bed and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
    “Stay here,” he said. “Sleep here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    She closed her eyes and her mind started to spin lazily. There was something she had to tell him, something very important, but she couldn’t remember what it was.
    Then she remembered.
    “I love you,” she said.
    But he was already gone.

CHAPTER FIVE
    THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED were a period of change, change as complete and drastic as the change that had been consummated in Don’s room that night. Now that Linda’s virginity was a thing of the past, it was no longer fitting and proper that she live the life of a virgin. She was a woman now, a whole and complete woman, and it was time for her to begin to live like a woman instead of like a girl.
    The following evening she told Ruthie. She went to her room looking for the other girl, anxious to tell her, aching to tell somebody of what she had done. Ruth was the obvious one to tell—a girl admittedly experienced herself, a girl who wouldn’t moralize or condemn, and a girl who was Linda’s best friend at school.
    “You didn’t come home last night,” Ruth said.
    Linda tensed at first. Then she relaxed and a smile spread over her face.
    “I know.”
    “Where were you?”
    Linda smiled in answer.
    “Oh,” Ruth said. “With a guy?”
    The smile grew wider.
    “Offhand,” Ruth said, “I would guess that something or other has been lost in the course of the past evening.”
    “Not lost. It wasn’t worth keeping.”
    “Okay,” Ruth agreed. “Sacrificed on the field of honor. Except I think honor’s a fairly confusing term in this context. What I’m getting at is that some guy finally got in your pants, right?”
    “Right.”
    “Who was

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