You’re surprised. He stroked her hair back from her forehead. What do you say now?
His voice was proud and gentle; he asked as if he expected a definite and very special answer.
I like you, said Helene. She was surprised by the way those words had come to her. But they were true; she meant it in general and in spite of the last hour. She liked his invincible confidence in himself. All the same, she could not help thinking of Carl, of his hands joining with hers to make one body, sometimes with two heads, sometimes without a head, his gentle lips and his prick, rather smaller than Wilhelm’s and almost pointed. They were inscribed on her mind and into her movements.
And now I’ll show you what else we can do. Wilhelm spoke like a teacher. He turned on his back, took Helene by the hips and pulled her on top of him. He made her move. Faster, that’s it.
All this talking disturbed Helene. It was difficult to keep listening to him, to hear what he said and then forget it, forget herself, forget herself so that she stopped seeing and hearing.
There. Careful, now. Now, take your hand, here, hold me firmly.
Helene, exhausted, couldn’t help smiling. It was lucky he couldn’t see her. He thrust at her, talking at the same time, brief words, issuing instructions. She didn’t want to contradict or challenge him. He held her hips hard, he was getting a grip so as to make her move on top of him.
There, that’s nice.
Helene let him move her about for a while. The less she wanted to do for herself, the better he seemed to like it. A marionette, thought Helene, she didn’t like that, and she didn’t know how she could take the puppet strings from his hand. Suddenly she reared up and away from him.
Careful, he cried and he sighed: so close, he complained.
Helene took his hands to hold them, but he shook them free, moved her off him, threw her under him and set to work on top of her again. He thrust his prick into her, regular thrust after regular thrust, like a hammer driving a nail into the wall. No more sound, just his hammering, the ceiling and the mattress. A high squeal, then he rolled off her. Helene stared into the darkness.
He was lying on his back, smacking his lips with relish. That’s love, Alice, he said.
She didn’t know what to say. He suddenly turned to her, kissed her on the nose and turned his back to her. Excuse me, he said, pulling the covers over him, I can’t sleep with a woman breathing into my face.
It was a long time before Helene could get to sleep. She was not interested in what women had breathed into his face when, or where; his sperm was running out of her in a little stream, sticky between her legs, and then it was as if she had slept for only a couple of minutes when she felt his hands on her hips again.
That’s right, yes, he said, turning her over on her stomach. Kneeling behind her, he pulled her towards him and thrust in.
It burned. He braced his large hand against her back, hurting her, he pushed her ahead of him on the mattress. That’s it, keep moving, you won’t get away from me.
Helene kicked his knee with all her might. He cried out.
What’s the idea of that? He took her by the shoulders and they both lay still. Don’t you like it?
Shall I show you how I like it? She asked the question in self-defence; she could think of no answer, she hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings, but he agreed. She approached him, his large body, he knelt on the mattress, sat back on his heels, his prick dangled heavy and limp between his powerful thighs. Shall I lie down? There was a note of derision in his voice, or perhaps he was just unsure of himself.
Helene said yes, yes, lie down. She bent over him, she smelled his sweat through the eau de cologne on his chest, sweat that smelled a little strange. She took the sheet and dried his chest, his forehead, his thighs first outside, then on the inside. He lay on his back with his body rigid, as if afraid.
She licked his skin with her tongue until he laughed.
He asked her to stop, it tickled. That’s not the way, he said.
She took his hands, placed them on her flat breasts, where they lay as if at a loss, not knowing what to do. Helene lay on top of him and moved, she pressed her body to his, she felt his skin with her lips, her teeth touched him, her soft fingertips and nails, she rubbed his prick and, as it began to stiffen in arousal, used it to sit on him. She rode him, she bent over to be closer to him, she leaned back to feel the air, she listened to his breathing, listened to his desire, and felt some desire herself.
What are you doing to me? Wilhelm’s question sounded surprised, almost suspicious. He didn’t wait for her to answer. You’re an animal, a real little animal. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. My wife, he said. He was speaking to himself, confirming the fact, making sure of it. My wife.
Didn’t he like her mouth? Helene wondered why he didn’t kiss her on the lips, for he avoided them. He got up and went out. Helene heard water rushing; he was obviously washing.
When he came back and lay down on the mattress beside her, heavy and hesitant, he asked hoarsely: May I turn the light on?
Of course. Helene was shivering pleasantly; she had drawn the covers up to her chin. In the light he looked crumpled, the shadows showing lines that Helene had never seen on him before. Presumably he now saw her own little lines and dimples, hollows and dips, previously unknown to him.
I must ask you something. He had pulled the other blanket over himself. He looked seriously at her. Were his eyes exploring her? Was he afraid?
There are ways and means, she said, don’t worry.
Ways and means?
Of avoiding a pregnancy, she explained.
That’s not what I meant. Wilhelm was obviously confused. Why would I want to avoid a pregnancy? Or you either? No, I must ask you something else.
What?
I’ve just been out to wash myself.
Yes?
Well, how can I put it? Normally I’d have had… there’d have been… well, I’d thought there was sure to be… As if to encourage himself he raised her chin with one finger. You didn’t bleed at all.
Helene looked at his tense and baffled face. Had he expected her to be menstruating, or were there other reasons why she would be bleeding? Now it was her turn to raise a questioning eyebrow. So?
You know what that means yourself. Now he was looking annoyed. You’re a nurse, so please don’t act so naïve.
I didn’t bleed, no. If I’d bled that would have meant I’d been injured.
I thought you were still a virgin. The sharp note in Wilhelm’s voice surprised Helene.
Why?
Why? Are you making fun of me? I keep my hands off you for three years, I procure a certificate of Aryan descent for you, I get engaged to you, damn it all, what do you mean, why did I think that? Listen, how was I to know that…? Wilhelm was shouting. He was sitting up and pounding the mattress in front of Helene with his fist. Involuntarily, she flinched back. Now she saw that he had put on a pair of short white underpants. He sat there in his underpants hitting the mattress again. Between the hem of the leg and his thigh she saw his prick, lying on the thigh as if taking no part in this, just jerking slightly when he hit the mattress. You ask why I thought you were a virgin? I’m asking myself the same question. What a hypocritical act all this was! Idiotic! He beat his fist on the mattress again, making the limp prick inside his underpants jump. What is it, why are you shrinking away like that? Not afraid, are you? He shook his head; his voice became quieter and more scornful. Your tears are just a sham, my girl. Bitterly, Wilhelm shook his head, he snorted with derision, a dry snort, expressing nothing but contempt. He was looking at her with contempt. He shook his head again. What a fool I am, he said, striking his forehead, what a stupid idiot. He was hissing through his teeth. What a wonderful show! He shook his head, gave that dry snort, shook his head again.