“I know. Overpopulation has nothing to fear from us.”
“Even if we were the last two people left on earth, nothing would happen,” Archer sighed.
“Something would. The world would end.”
“Yeah. That’s how the world would end-—not with a bang!”
“You don’t have to shout,” she told him icily. “I’ve got neighbors, you know.”
“Sorry. It’s just that we’re so far away from each other. Couldn’t we sit closer together? On the couch, maybe?”
Iceberg considered it. “All right. But just for purposes of conversation. Remember, I’m frigid.”
“And I’m impotent.” Archer moved to the couch.
She joined him there, sitting against one arm, as far from him as it was possible to get. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked stiffly.
“Why don't we discuss our mutual problem?”
“ ‘Mutual problem’?”
“Yeah. Your frigidity and my impotence. Like you said when we were leaving the institute, maybe we can help each other.”
“I told you. I don’t know why I said that. I don't see how we can help each other. Men just don’t turn me on. I don’t enjoy sex.”
“Maybe you’ve just been running into the wrong man.” Archer shifted his position to the middle of the couch.
“All men are alike . . . Why did you move?”
‘I’m slightly deaf in my right ear,” Archer lied. “I have difficulty hearing on that side.” He moved again. Now he was right next to her, his thigh brushing hers. “All men really aren’t alike,” he told her. “For instance, how many men have you known who were impotent?”
“You’re the first.” She moved her leg away from his.
“Well, that makes our situation different, doesn’t it? I mean, you can relax with me. No matter how strongly I come on, you don't have to be afraid.” Archer moved his leg so that their knees were touching again.
“I suppose you’re right.” Some of the tension went out of her body. It brought her arm and shoulder into juxtaposition with his.
“For an iceberg you sure give off a lot of heat,” Archer observed after another moment of silence.
“It’s body heat.” Her tone was clinical.
“Really? Let’s see.” Archer slid his aim around her shoulders, stretching so that his fingers could touch the side of her wool-covered breast.
“I don’t like to be touched like that.” Iceberg tried in vain to wriggle away.
“It’s nothing personal. Just a scientific investigation,” he assured her.
“Are you sure? Then why are you squeezing my breast like that?”
“Testing the resiliency. What are you worried about? I’m impotent, remember.”
“I keep forgetting. With any other man I’d think he was making a pass.”
“But you know me better than that.” Archer dug his fingertips deeper into the grey wool until he found her nipple. Her breasts were long, as he remembered them, and it took him a minute. The nipple was also long, and quite hard, likewise as he remembered it. “Now this sort of touch by a man doesn’t lessen your feelings of frigidity at all?” he inquired in a carefully detached voice.
“No. It just tickles a little.”
“Tickles! Well now, that’s sort of interesting. A tickling sensation might be the beginning of an erotic response.” He thought a moment. “Now tell me if the sensation increases,” he said. And then he kissed her.
She submitted to the kiss, but she didn’t cooperate. Her lips remained closed to his probing tongue. And their temperature was chilly. “Why did you do that?” she asked when the kiss was over.
“I was hoping to evoke some response, to get some hint as to where the vulnerable point of your frigidity might be.”
“There is no vulnerable point. I’m just frigid. That’s all.”
“Let’s just see.” Archer moved his hand to the back of her dress and unzipped it. Before she could object, he opened her bra. Then he reached quickly under the dress, through her armpit and palmed the long, naked tip of her long, naked breast.
“I don't know what you think you’re going to accomplish by doing that,” Iceberg said. “I’m not going to let you make love to me, you know.”
“The question’s academic. I’m impotent. Remember,” Archer was cupping both breasts now, squeezing the nipples between his fingers.
“Well, it has no effect whatsoever.” She took a deep breath.
“Give it a chance.” He removed one of his hands and casually let it fall to her knee.
“You’re simply engaging in an exercise in futility.”
“Yeah?” Archer was getting angry. He slid his hand under the hem of the wool dress until it was wedged between the bare flesh of her thighs above the tops of her stockings.
He tried kissing her again. Her lips were a little softer and warmer, but not much. For an instant they parted, but when his tongue touched hers, she quickly pulled away.
The movement, however, afforded an advantage in another area. Her legs parted slightly and he was able to push his hand higher. His fingertips grazed the silk of her panties.
“Now I don’t like to be touched there by a man!” she protested. “You’re going too far!”
“Why don’t you just relax?” Archer found the outline of the pouting nether-lips under the silk and traced it. He probed between them until he found her clitoris. It was erect and straining. Breathing heavily now, Archer stroked it.
“Don’t do that!” Iceberg tried to push his hand away, but it wouldn’t let her.
“Stop worrying! I’m impotent. Remember.”
“You don’t look impotent!" Iceberg glanced meaningfully at his lap.
Archer followed her glance. She was right. A tree of lust had sprouted and was stretching toward the ceiling. The material of his pants was stretched seemingly to the breaking-point. “I’ll be damned!” Archer said.
He really was surprised. He realized that he was as excited as he’d ever been. Iceberg’s very coldness had dispelled his impotency. Her lack of passion had aroused his own. It crossed his mind that his reaction was perverse, but he dismissed the thought. He wasn’t about to look a gift stiff in the mouth.
“No, you certainly don’t seem impotent,” Iceberg insisted. “Just look at that!” She licked her lips, then caught herself. “It’s disgusting!” she decided.
“It excites you!” Archer hadn’t missed the gesture.
“It certainly does not!”
“Yes it does.” He leaned over her and pushed her panties aside. His fingers dipped into the honeypot of her femininity. “I can tell!” he panted.
“It doesn’t excite me!” Her breathing had quickened now too. “I don’t feel anything at all!” Her lips rose and fell in rhythm with his caress.
Beside himself now, Archer pulled up her dress and yanked off her panties. He took a long look at the blonde triangle and throbbing organs exposed to his view. Then he savagely pulled down his pants and jockey shorts and prepared to mount her.
“Oh, don’t!" she objected. “Oh, hurry!” she contradicted herself. “You’re raping me!” she protested. “Like this?" she inquired, forming her legs into parentheses. “I’ll scream!” she threatened. “Oh! Give it to me!” she pleaded.
“Give it to you?” Archer was brought up short.
“Come on! Push it! Shove it! Screw me! Bang me!”
“I thought you were frigid.”
“Damn you! Do it!” Iceberg’s nails ripped at his buttocks.
“You sure don’t act frigid."
“Come on, stud!” She wrapped her legs around him.
“You don’t act frigid at all.”
“I’m not! I’m hot as a firecracker! Now will you sock it to me!” Iceberg was slavering, her eyes rolling.
“You’re not frigid?”
“No! Never was!” Iceberg confessed. “Now come on before I explode!”
“I can’t.” Archer sat back on this haunches.