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ALONE IN HER CELL, JIM and Peggy sat on the edge of the bed.
“Let me hold you,” begged Peggy.
For a long while they just stayed in each other’s arms.
Then Jim whispered: “I have never made love to a pregnant woman before.”
“Well, I have never been pregnant before, so we’re even, sailor.”
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you or the baby.”
“Still my Shy Guy, huh? Just think of me as...as your fat sex goddess.”
They took off their clothes and began to touch each other it was as if they were back in his apartment. The biggest and most terrible difference was the ghost in the room — death itself. It was so hard for them to touch and love each other with the fact that in a few months’ Peggy could be put to death — and for a crime she had nothing to do with and was naively innocent. In the past they had the feeling they could not get close enough with their bodies because of love and lust. Now it was different. The feeling was even stronger because this could be the last time they would ever achieve this intimacy. They prolonged the inevitable as long as possible. Peggy was the first to succumb to her passion. It first started with her neck turning blood red, and then she became very rigid, screaming into his ear: “I’m coming, baby. Let go, come with me.”
With those pleading words, he exploded. Peggy began to laugh out loud.
“I’ve never had that effect on you before” — he said.
“I never had a football player inside of me before. He was trying to kick the field goal.”
“Is he okay?”
“Oh, yes. And me, too, if you want to know.”
“Oh, Peggy. You know what I mean.”
“You’re always going to be my Shy Guy, aren’t you?”
“I guess, as long as you want me anyway.”
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