Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

sighed in her tipsy sleep. "Oh, Rusty... That was chilling. Itook the other breast in my hand, and she woke up. "Oh,Myra! You felt just like Rusty." But she pushed my handaway. "He's gentle, too." "Gentle?" I recalled what Letitiahad said. "I thought he was violent!" "Whatever gave youthat idea?" She mumbled, still half asleep. "It's because hewas so gentle I loved him. He never grabs you like otherboys.... If nothing else, I have changed at least one youngman's sexual performance, and for the good--at least thegood of Letitia. From now on Rusty will continue to take outhis hatred of me on other women, never realizing to whatextent he is really pleasing them. It is ironic what I haveinadvertently accomplished. Wanting to tame for all time thearchetypal male, I have created something ten times asmasculine in the classic sense as what I started with. All inall, not the desired effect but perhaps, like Columbus, I havestumbled on a new world. I caressed Mary-Ann's breasts,which she allowed but only for a moment; then she turnedaway from me. "You are an angel, Myra, and I really loveyou, I do. But I just can't... you know..." "Of course I know,dear." And I do; yet I am still profoundly hurt at beingrejected. "If only you were a man or there was a man likeyou, I'd really fall, I would--but not like this, even with you."This froze me, turned me to stone. But why should I care?After all, the silkiness of her body, the tautness of the skin,the firmness of the flesh is neither more nor less appetizingto me than Rusty's body since, in the final analysis (where Iam now marooned), a girl is neither more nor less attractivethan a boy and I have, God knows, possessed the boy. Yet