from the novel “Bitter Honey”

/, Literature, Blesok no. 51/from the novel “Bitter Honey”

from the novel “Bitter Honey”

I felt like I was observing from the outside how we slid to the floor and landed on the carpet between the table and the telly. I simply watched this woman, Claire, lying on her back and slowly spreading her legs under his hot but gentle body, and now, for the first time, allowed for the possibility that maybe nothing would get in the way, that it could just really happen. I wanted it to happen. It had to happen. If it didn’t have to, something would surely get in the way. But nothing did.
As Jason entered that woman on the floor, she moaned and closed her eyes. Then she slowly began to emit from deep inside her tiny, quiet sounds, like whining.
For some time we plied each other in silence, interrupted only by the quiet moans coming from both of us. It was beautiful. I knew now that sex with Jason was fabulous, fabulous and gentle, though he looked like he was about to explode with excitement any minute. After a while, when I felt he was almost coming, and also felt the hard floor rub against the small of my back, I gently pushed him to change position. He understood immediately. He withdrew from me and sat down.
Have you got a condom, I said. This was weird. When I heard my voice I realised it really was me. The wise, careful Claire. Of course, Jason had the condoms ready in a second. They must’ve been prepared somewhere, waiting in a drawer next to the telly. He surely didn’t keep them there for Helen. I somehow couldn’t quite imagine them shagging in the living room while little Mairi was … where? At nursery school with her picture books? When he put the condom on I gently pushed him back and he lay flat on the floor; then I mounted him. I sat on him of my own free will, I sucked him in. Voluntarily.
We started moving again. I rubbed against him with all my weight, with him grabbing my hips and my tits. I pressed hard, feeling the tip of his pelvis in my crotch and, for a while, thought how I was probably chafing the small of his back against the rough carpet. But I didn’t care. He’d let me know if he minded. I was rubbing against his pounding pelvis, feeling his smooth belly without a single hair on it. My hand circled his trunk, pressing against it, feeling him, deeper; I wanted to really feel what I was doing. Till he suddenly groaned. Oh, no, don’t say it. Yes. Well, Jason, for God’s sake.
I rolled off him and lay on the carpet. Jason was breathing heavily, his face was flushed and his eyes were wet. He was just lying flat on his back, staring up. I looked at him for a while. What a face. I couldn’t help thinking of my science teacher back at high school who always managed to screw up his chemical experiments one way or another. When occasionally a demonstration was successful, he went into a state of incredulous shock. Jason looked just like that. Couldn’t believe what had happened. Then I rolled to one side, looking away. For some reason it was difficult to look at him this way. I just lay there, listening to the rain outside. It was one of those rains that look determined to last forever.
God, that was fantastic, said Jason. Better than I dared hope it would be. I said nothing. I heard some kind of movement behind my back. Something was going on, a squelching sound, as if he was taking off the condom and doing something with it, packing it up, saving it. Some more time passed during which I felt nothing, then he suddenly lay down next to me and put an arm around me. That was nice of him. He was warm and I’d been beginning to feel cold, lying naked on the carpet. Though I was still tense, I felt very comfortable.
I’ve no idea how long we were lying there. I was almost dozing off but the floor was too hard, and anyway I was becoming aware of the dirt, the dust against my skin. I was lying naked on the carpet, for God’s sake. I wanted to get up, to lean on my elbow, perhaps to say something, when I felt it was starting again. It was just in the air.
Jason was suddenly caressing me again. It was a nice feeling. He was warm, soft, he was heating me up from behind like some kind of big, friendly creature that would protect me from anything bad that might happen. For a while I kept thinking about the dust and the tiny specks of dirt I felt on my skin under me, even about how it might be better to go to the bedroom, but I banished the thought immediately. Helen’s and his bed – this would be a bit too much after all. Anyway, I felt that the presence of this chummy, loving creature could really protect me from everything, including the dirt if necessary. He reached for my tits and squeezed the nipples gently with his fingers. It was slightly painful, but not too much, not unpleasant. He surely knew I liked that; he did it to make me feel good. I felt movement at my butt, where his hot, wet prick was pressed. He moved a little so that I felt a cold wetness at the spot where his soft, warm skin had been. I felt he was becoming hard again. Under his tender, curious fingers I was waking up too.
Finally, as I began to feel I was going to explode, to simply pump up under his fingers like some frog trying to outscream the night, the stars, the whole lot, as I was about to be sucked into a glorious spasm that would tear me away from him and make me implode, he rolled me on to my stomach with a gentle gesture and slipped on top of me. I raised my butt to make it easier for him; there wasn’t a moment to lose, as they say. He entered me and I almost screamed.
I don’t know how long it went on. My legs were spread and I was holding my butt up to feel precisely the movement of his body, his balls on my wetness. I had a feeling that the whole room, no, the whole world, including you, (but no, not you, you weren’t even in the picture), was condensed in this pounding, into this feeling of something alive inside me, something wild, twisting and twitching. Then again, suddenly, without a hint of warning, completely inappropriately and way too bloody early, he moaned and sighed, like he suddenly remembered something horribly sad, something so moving that he just couldn’t go on. He collapsed on me and pressed himself against my back.
I began to feel slightly silly.
That was out of this world, he said after a while in a slightly husky voice as he rolled off me and lay again on the carpet, still breathing heavily and blushing once again. He lay with his eyes closed for some time while I, slowly, carefully, turned on my back. My knees were red and sore. My elbows likewise. Combat wounds. Smashing. And what did I have to show for it? My head was blank. After a while Jason opened his eyes and peeped over at me. His look was amorous. How was it for you? he inquired.
I shrugged. How do you reply to such a question?
Good, I said. It really wasn’t that bad, after all. He was good. Very gentle but with a speck of authority that made you feel you were in competent hands; this was actually a turn-on. All the time he was creating the impression that he cared about my feelings. He tried to make it good for me too. But what’s the use when he’s so short-winded? Just a little short, I added.
You haven’t come? he gawked. I shrugged again. He was suddenly on his side, turned towards me. I turned my head and looked him in the eye. I felt his hand reach across my belly to my crotch. I wanted to move, to protest, to say he didn’t need to, but something stopped me. I felt a little daft but I was grateful. I went along with the movement of his fingers. I was completely relaxed. It went on for a few minutes, during which time I mainly had my eyes closed and absorbed the electric impulses coming from my crotch somewhere deep in my belly. I felt safe. Nothing could go wrong. I didn’t have to say anything when I came, as he was looking at my face all the time and, at the moment I tightened up and opened my mouth to let out a scarcely audible sound, perhaps some kind of undeveloped and inarticulate rudiment of the word “thanks”, his fingers stopped and stayed relaxed between my thighs like a warm, safe shell, soft and endless.

AuthorAndrej E. Skubic
2018-08-21T17:23:11+00:00 November 27th, 2006|Categories: Prose, Literature, Blesok no. 51|0 Comments