Amelia’s mask was still down low, her mouth exposed, her eyes covered. Amelia didn’t have the energy to pull the mask away so that she could see better. She could just barely see the woman’s mouth and chin, lips slightly parted, as the woman cleaned Amelia’s face. After a time the mask was tugged up a little and the woman looked into Amelia’s eyes, just for a moment. Amelia felt a rush of stimulation and a sudden terror of seeing, which the woman seemed to sense. The woman pulled the mask down across Amelia’s eyes again and moved back to cleaning her mouth and chin. She started on her upper throat.
Amelia felt a curious sort of comfort, her face being stroked with the cool water while she recalled the brief moment of looking into the mysterious eyes of the beautiful woman. Amelia felt a curious desire, all of a sudden. She felt quite sure it had been months. Except for that French soldier at the outpost…
Her mind refused to remember, and Amelia’s need blotted out everything else. She found herself fascinated by the woman, seduced by her image. She remembered a moment a long time ago, before her last lover… but that woman had been a schoolteacher, and Amelia had been uninterested in pursuing an affair. She could not recall the woman’s name.
Amelia wasn’t sure what she was doing. She leaned forward and kissed the woman, through the veil, feeling the warmth of her lips and the softness of her tongue through the gauzy fabric. The woman responded, kissing Amelia back. The woman set down the cloth and pulled away her veil. Amelia still could not see, but that only heightened the taste of the woman’s lips and the slick feel of her tongue sliding into Amelia’s mouth. With her first demanding motion in days, Amelia squirmed against her, pulling the woman close. The woman melted into her arms.
Slowly, without passion, the woman began to open the laces of her garment. She took Amelia’s hand and placed it on her breast. Amelia felt a curious sort of terror, but could not imagine what she could possibly be afraid of. She didn’t remember there being anything dangerous about this behaviour. She took the woman’s breast into her hand and caressed it, feeling acutely the hardness of the nipple against her palm. She lay in darkness as she touched the breast, drifting into confusion, as if she weren’t quite sure what the breast was. Amelia felt the woman’s slender fingers across the back of her head, felt herself being pulled forward as the woman leaned against her. The woman guided Amelia to her breast and Amelia’s lips closed around the nipple.
She suckled there for a time, her lust having flared and subsided. She still desired the woman, wanted to touch her, devour her. But the intense need had settled into a faint ache deep inside her body, and it was enough to suckle on the woman’s breast while the woman stroked Amelia’s head.
After a time, the woman laid Amelia down again and began to kiss her, draping her breasts against Amelia’s lips and then chest. The woman began to reach under Amelia’s robe.
Amelia felt a wave of panic, not knowing why. She took the woman’s wrist and started to shake her head, vehemently, saying, “No. No. I don’t want to.” But she knew that wasn’t true.
The woman didn’t understand. She kept trying to get under Amelia’s robe, to unfasten it. The woman made a gesture with her mouth, as if trying to convince her. Amelia felt her stomach go weak, churning uncontrollably, her body aching for the woman to repeat the gesture against her. She remembered another person making that same gesture… Amelia shook her head vigorously and motioned the woman away.
Impassively, the woman adjusted her garments. She took the tray and left the room while Amelia lay there, unmoving. Tears had formed in her eyes.
She could not remember the mores, the social fabric of upper-crust New York society which had prevented her from making love to the girl. All she knew was that she could not do it.
Amelia drifted for ever. She had begun to forget the experience with the woman, but it came back in lush, sensuous morsels, making her squirm on the mat. She was fed and washed several times. She was much neater after the first time, requiring less cleaning afterwards. Amelia was vaguely aware, the third time she was served, that this was a different woman, as it had been the time before – three women, equally beautiful and equally different than Amelia. Each time, after she had been cleaned, Amelia would find herself kissing the woman, hungrily devouring her tongue, reaching out for her body. But she refused each woman in turn, prevented by some unknown force from making love with them, however much she wanted it.
After the third meal, Amelia slept for a time. She awoke to the scent of sandalwood and musk incense. It was dark outside, and there were no lights in the room.
She felt the mask being removed. Someone was kissing her – it was a man. She tasted his tongue and felt the surge of her need. With a curious enthusiasm, Amelia realized that she was going to be taken. She felt an aching hunger. While she suddenly knew that she could not remember the colour of her mother’s eyes, or the address of her childhood home in Long Island, or the name of the man with whom she had travelled to this country, and that she should be able to remember these things, she knew, deeply, instinctively, that her giving herself to this man, or more accurately, being taken, did not spell decadence the way it would have to give herself to the women. That is why, she knew, she must succumb, dissolve, submit. That is why, she knew, she must be devoured by him.
That is why she became his.
Amelia’s back arched, and she presented her lips for his consumption. She felt his rough hands on her robe, unfastening it, opening it up. He did not remove the mask yet. Amelia’s head whirled in conscious surrender.
The robe came open, and he removed it from Amelia’s body. He unfastened the sash around her breasts. She felt an explosive freedom. He had considerable trouble with her cotton slacks and shirt, as if he had never seen such garments before. But Amelia did not assist him. She lay passive, allowing him to take rather than giving herself to him, not wanting to break the spell of freedom that her inaction offered.
The pants and shirt joined the robe on the floor. Then her undergarments.
The smell of sandalwood filled her nostrils.
She moaned softly as she felt the man’s hands on her breasts. His caress was strong, insistent, but there was an underlying gentleness, as if she were a profoundly important person, but belonged wholly to him. Amelia was still blind, but her mouth was exposed and he kissed her briefly before disrobing himself. Then he lay upon her, his naked form against her, as she presented herself for him. With his hands and his mouth and his body, he took her. He possessed each part of her body with sensuous fervour, starting with her breasts, continuing to her mouth, slowly working over her belly and back, then gently entering her with his fingers. Amelia remained passive, delighting in the sensation as his fingers slid smoothly into her. It was after that that he pulled her body against his. He guided her mouth to his shaft and, giving herself fully, her eyes still shrouded, enveloped by darkness, Amelia began to feed.
This was a transgression against her social code, but somehow its context was different than her other desired transgressions. Inexplicably, she pictured herself smoking in a bathroom somewhere; then the momentary image faded. The man guided Amelia onto her back, coaxing her legs open. She knew that the time had come. He laid himself fully on her, and she felt a sharp pain as he penetrated her. It had indeed been a very long time. She suddenly remembered the last time she had made love – it was in a hotel in Algìers with a man named Jean; then that memory dissolved and she only knew that she was making love now. A curious wave of fear went through her as she felt him settle down on top of her. Then her fear dissolved like the memory.