Delta of Venus - Anais Nin [57]
Blind to all but his pleasure, she bent over him, her hair falling, her mouth near his penis, continuing the motion of her hands and at the same time licking the tip of the penis each time it passed within reach of her tongue – this, until his body began to tremble and raised itself to be consumed by her hands and mouth, to be annihilated, and the semen would come, like little waves breaking on the sand, one rolling upon another, little waves of salty foam unrolling on the beach of her hands. Then she enclosed the spent penis tenderly in her mouth, to cull the precious liquid of love.
His pleasure gave her such a joy that she was surprised when he began to kiss her with gratitude, as he said, ‘But you, you didn’t have any pleasure.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Elena, in a voice he could not doubt.
She marveled at the continuity of their exultation. She wondered when their love would enter a period of repose.
Pierre was gaining liberty. He was often out when she telephoned. Meanwhile she was advising an old friend, Kay, who was just back from Switzerland. On the train Kay had met a man who could be described as the younger brother of Pierre. Kay had always so identified with Elena, been so dominated by Elena’s personality, that the only thing which could satisfy her was an adventure which, at least in some superficial way, resembled Elena’s.
This man also had a mission. What the, he did not confess, but he used it as an excuse, perhaps an alibi, when he went away or when he had to spend a whole day without seeing Kay. Elena suspected that she gave Pierre’s double stronger colors than he actually possessed. To begin with, she endowed him with abnormal virility marred only by his habit of falling asleep before or immediately after the act, without waiting to thank her. He passed from the middle of a conversation to a sudden desire for rape. He hated underwear. He taught her not to wear anything under her dress. His desire was imperative – and unexpected. He could not wait. With him, she learned hasty departures from restaurants, wild drives in curtained taxi cabs, séances behind the trees in the Bois, masturbation in cinemas – never in a bourgeois bed, in the warmth and comfort of a bedroom. His desire was distinctly ambulant and bohemian. He liked carpeted floors, even the cold floors of bathrooms, super-heated Turkish baths, opium dens, where he did not smoke but where he liked to lie with her on a narrow mat, and their bones would ache afterwards from falling asleep. Kay’s job was to keep alert enough to follow his caprices, and to try to catch her own elusive pleasure, in this wild race, which might have come easier with a little leisure surrounding it.
But no, he enjoyed these sudden tropical outbursts. She followed him like a somnambulist, giving Elena the feeling that she knocked against him in a reverie, as against a piece of furniture. Sometimes, when the scene had happened too swiftly for her to bloom voluptuously and completely under his rape, she lay at his side while he slept and invented a more thorough lover. She closed her eyes and thought: Now his hand is lifting my dress slowly, very slowly. He is looking at me first. One hand lies over my buttocks, and the other begins exploring, sliding, circling. Now he dips his finger there, where it is moist. He touches it like a woman feeling a piece of silk, to see its quality. Very slowly.
Pierre’s double would turn over on his side, and Kay would hold her breath. If he awakened, he would find her with her hands in a strange position. Then suddenly, as if he had guessed her wishes, he would place his hand between her legs and leave it there, so that she could not move. The presence of his hand aroused her more than ever. Then she would close her eyes again and try to imagine that his hand was moving. To create a sufficiently vivid image