Prudently, I placed my hand on her knees, covered by her garment.
To tease her, I drew back a little, with a semblance of wanting to avoid her lips; and in the movement she made to reach my mouth her knee became uncovered. I experienced a lukewarm surprise at finding a morsel of bare flesh under my hand. Prudently I advanced my fingers, wishing, to extend this unexpected conquest, without awakening her attention unduly. Only the dressing-gown suddenly slipped, uncovering the whole of her thigh as far as the shady line of the groin; whereupon my wife made the movement I feared, ready to drape herself afresh and still more closely. However, she did not complete her gesture; feverishly-and as though she herself were completely dazed-she thrust her tongue into my mouth, while her legs parted in my direction, accepting my caress.
Notwithstanding her acquiescence, I still hesitated. What I wanted was, indeed, a more complete conquest, and the slightest piece of clumsiness might compromise it. Timidly, my hand went further up, lightly touching the interior portion of her thigh, the epidermis of which was so immaterially soft that I was astounded. As I progressed the muscles relaxed, the skin became still more soft and then, without transition, I felt under my fingers the crease formed by her sex and its aureole of silky hair. Suddenly, however, her legs closed and my hand was arrested. Once more there was refusaclass="underline" modesty's invincible reflex, which every time forbid me the ultimate privacy of the flesh.
Exasperated-giving up the idea of continuing my deceptive incursion- I sought to withdraw my imprisoned hand. But Therese prevented me, exclaiming:
"No, remain where you are. Wait a bit!" Her thighs relaxed their grip, then opened completely. Her sex being, at long last, offered to me, I placed my entire hand on it, with the palm on the thickest part of her fleece, and the fingers right on the red and blooming flower of her flesh. For a long time, too, I made no attempt at a more active caress, but gave myself up to the voluptuousness of that warm contact, — to the intoxication of having conquered the secret home of love. Under my inactive hand, the intimate nudity of that part of her person became animated by a succession of ripples: long and passionate waves which thrilled through my wife's body until they reached our closely united lips. The dead silence of the night was disturbed merely by the low sound of our kisses as we embraced and disembraced.
Therese's tremors at last became less frequent, less passionate, whereupon my hand awakened. Momentarily abandoning the satisfied flesh, my fingers strayed over her smooth stomach and ascended, under the dressing-gown, in search of the nipples of her breasts. But soon they descended, — to become, as it were, Will-o'-thewisps, which no more than grazed her sex, without actually touching its inner folds. Like a light flame, my fingers went hippety-hop on her fleece, skirting its shady, downy edges, and then slipping to her hips, along the secret line of which my fingers travelled. Then, most delicately, they made the return journey to their point of departure; and thus the backward and forward movement proceeded. Little by little, however, my fingers became more insistent and more penetrative. Parting the curls, which my vagabond fingers had entangled, I resumed tactile contact with the most secret spot of her whole body. And soon on the most tender parts of her sex my caresses-more and more rhythmic-were centred.
Therese, wholly absorbed in the intensely voluptuous sensations which were again thrilling her, ceased to kiss me. She tried to undo the triple knot of her waist-belt; then tore it off impatiently; and, casting her garment aside, offered me, in the sweet light of that clear night, her wholly nude body. Under my agile fingers, whose caresses I still further accelerated, the flesh of her flesh became moist with desire; her legsparted still more-stretched towards me her exasperated flesh; and with both hands clasped to her breasts she threw herself back with upturned eyes.
CHAPTER VIII
Friday morning.
Those good friends of ours who, already the day before yesterday, calculated on our "lying in bed" at Dijon would have been greatly astonished if they had been able to see us all alone in another bed at Versailles. Moreover, with what a torrent of sarcastic remarks they would have deluged me had they known that my wife-on the third day of her honeymoon-was still a virgin!
However, I felt neither bitterness nor humiliation on that account.
Rather a certain pride. I imagined an audience capable of understanding me, — one that would have applauded me for having overcome stupid masculine prejudices. Together we should have evoked a new world in which Man was no longer the slave of his Phallus and thirsting for the bestial satisfying of his passion… But how many people are there- perhaps one in a thousand? — who, raising themselves above the primitive brute, can bridle their desire in view of a less egoistic voluptuousness? Egoistic? But had I not displayed an egoistic spirit towards Therese on the previous evening? Why provoke her solitary orgasm and then, afterwards, merely carry her off shivering to her bed and leave her there? I had made a mere pretence of obtaining an explicit appeal from her, — that "Take me!" which would have surrendered her flesh to mine. Had she not appealed to me, with her whole body straining towards me, amidst the semi-darkness of that warm summer night?… However, if I had resisted her intoxicating appeal to give her pleasure, — if I had bridled my own mad lust, it was because the trial through which I passed made me more ambitious, and also stronger. What I wanted from Therese was not merely her fleshly consent, so ardently confessed that night; but the more conscious acquiescence of her whole being. And I knew full well that-anxious for a more intimate union than the mere union of the sexes-I was in the right.
Meanwhile, through too protracted an evocation, in the warmth of my solitary bed, of the incidents of the preceding night, my lust was once more quickly aroused. Strange duplication of one's personality! While my mind formulated its arguments and approved of what I had done, my imagination, summoning up recollections, disapproved. My loins were wrung with poignant regret. Once more I saw Therese casting aside her dressing-gown and, wholly unashamed, offering her whole body to me; once more I felt the sweet, moist appeal under my fingers.
Had I not made a gull of myself by refusing the offered pleasure? I closed my eyes the better to relish what my enjoyment might have been… I should have thrown myself on my knees, between her open thighs, and, amidst the double moisture of our dual lust, I should have caressed her flesh for a long, long time with my penis before suddenly penetrating her. Or, perhaps, Therese's hands, with an instinctive movement, and amidst a paroxysm of pleasure, would have seized hold of my sex, already stiff through the approaching spasm, so as to thrust it within her… Suddenly I became very warm and uncovered myself,and in order to relieve the burning turgidity of my sex, I was forced to undo a few buttons of my pyjamas.
The sound of Therese drumming on the door made me draw up the sheet quickly. In a clear and comically shrill voice, she sang:
"Au clair de la lune, Monsieur mon epoux, Venez au jardin, il y fait tres doux."
I welcomed these humorous lines with a whistle of admiration, and then replied, in an octave lower:
"Au clair de la lune, Monsieur repondit:
Je ne puis sortir-re, je suis dans mon lit."
A ripple of laughter came from behind the door, accompanied by the words:
"No! Really? Get along with you, lazy fellow. May I come in?"
"Yes, yes. Come in at once."
"I suppose you are decent?"
"Most certainly, — as I always am."