Chapter 1
This creature who I have just married and to whom I have given my name, is she mine?
Does she really belong to me in the literal sense of the word? Can she be considered my property? I have looked upon her all day... She's terrifyingly lovely.
I am not speaking of that beauty which one normally attributes to the body and the spirit, but something within which keeps revealing itself from its proper substance.
I know Clara physically. She was a dancer. If one must, a strip-teaser dancing in the raw. Every night I went to see her and study her. I wanted her and I wondered whether I was going to have her.
One day I met her and offered her roses and that was the opening to her heart. I haven't been deceived. And I know that I shall never be deceived. It is not a question of vanity. I have already passed by a sufficient amount of experiences with the opposite sex. I have lived. Maybe too much. I'm thirty and Clara is only twenty.
When I say that I have lived, I mean that I have submitted myself mentally and physically to a wide number of experiences to which a man with means should undergo. I have taken to love with all the liberties I wished. I have know women one by one or even several at one time. I know that incomplete animal who is rarely perfected.
Would it ever be possible to see perfection infused in a woman or am I dreaming of vast heavens? I only know one thing.
Clara is blond, English the same as myself. And nothing is uglier or more beautiful than an English woman when she attains perfection.
She is not terribly tall, rather average in height. Her shoulders are round and narrow and agreeable. Her bust is supple and her breasts are in their normal place and are justly proportioned. Not too large and not too small.
Her torso centers around her hips which are round and flexible. Her legs are rather long, on the thin side and quite charnel, giving the impression of the child and the woman, which I think is a happy mixture. I haven't as yet touched her.
I have awaited this moment for some four months now and since I have been with other women. I have been able to delight in other women, but I have chosen not to entangle myself. It as always been of a prime necessity to know what a woman could offer me and what I could give her in exchange. The equality of amounts were never substantial and I found the disproportion alarming.
Clara is different. She is my wife and an exceptional human being. I had never thought that I should get married one day. But here I am epoused and I certainly don't regret it. We shall live together and die together. It will be good only in this way.
She was rather surprised that I asked her out to a restaurant or to dine with at home. I never touched her and I didn't want to. Not then.
I held back although I wanted to have her ever so badly. I was able to control myself and push it to the back of my mind. I said to myself that I had no desire and made myself believe it.
Nevertheless, I have to confess, that my lips brushed up against her cheeks. She seemed to melt in me. She was almost ready to give herself to me, but I renounced. She was able to think as she wished. Clara must have thought of a thousand things, but I was indifferent at the time.
Now it is another story.
From the moment I met her, I had wanted her. I could feel it inside. I had never wanted or desired a woman so much. When she was no longer with me, I could feel her eyes upon mo. What was I to do? A situation crept into my life that I was not prepared for. Even though she had a terrible effect on me, I could not assume that my sentiments were as strong as all that.
Other women had already captivated me. By their senses and not by their hearts. They were not able to set my soul on fire and corrode my nerves and tie my very stomach into knots. I was looking for something else. One day I got fed up with mediocrity and looked for something else. I had had enough those kisses, those rumps and humid sex, cold or warm. There was nothing in these women.
There was nothing in that transitory union between a man and a woman who do not for the best. It is simply an act of flesh with certain accents and momentary delights. I could never give the best of myself to these caprices. I probably was always cynical and this was taken as charm, when I was just plain tired. Those stupid women took it as an added quality and created an illusion.
I was able to break all ties. However, I managed to do so with tact. I have always respected women, although I might not have always loved them and even those wonderful prostitutes I even respected them.
But respect does not mean consideration. Once a woman is nude she is only different from another by her line and her features of beauty. The eye can tell all and one must see a woman in her intimate state so as not to be wronged by the folds and follies of clothing.
During the four months that have passed proclaiming the subtle courtship of Clara and myself, I have been able to experiment with and measure my veritable passion.
I possessed Clara mentally and in a way physically. I experimented with her when I was alone. I exercised every posture conceivable. This way I was able to measure my true sentiments without sleeping with her.
Each time I masturbated, it was with art. There is an art to masturbation when their is an object in view. When there is no goal then it is merely a useless and stupid affair.
I had the most splendid of sensations. They were sharp and clear and there was a harmony in my concepts. And these multiple images still live, intact and more virulent than ever and they are growing in proportion. When I think of how constructed my hours, I cannot help but feel proud of myself.
She is in the chateau now. The miniature chateau which has belonged to me for a long time, but which had never meant much to me. Now it will be the death of our love. Because I love Clara, even more than myself, and yet that isn't quite exact, because I have no love for myself. She remains for me the absolute love and reflection of it. I have looked for it vain, in opaque mirrors where image was written vaguely and perhaps not at all.
I have believe in my own way. To see myself realized finally permitted me to see unlimited horizons. And in this way our love was able to become more significant and the unique object of our destination. It is eternal.
This flesh is different from all the others. She is the other half of my flesh and our combination makes a total or one. One undying devotion to the loves of the flesh.
I told her to walk around nude and I was able to look her over with my best scrutiny. My senses reached a new proportions and I could not believe my eyes. As she walked I had the impression that I was in her and that she was in me. When she walked away I felt that my stomach was going also and I could not guess what fibers of my body were so attached to her.
Could I possibly imagine that my mind had also affected hers?
I never as yet have undressed her. I have asked her to do it herself.
She smiled while watching me take delight in her stripping. She is a virgin. Perhaps I was too that night when she entranced me for the first time. I am going to cease to be like her. I feel that I am on the threshold of the unknown, even more so then when I was coming into manhood. There is a competent woman that lives in me, a mere boy who has just left his infant clothing.
She was right for a moment. She started to get angry because I was asking too much and she said I was cruel. Clara said that I knew how to obtain what I wanted. I had that in my royal blood, she said almost with tears in her eyes. I had promised myself a great deal from the first sight of her and I have kept my promise to the letter.
She was burning with anger. How well I can remember the tempestuous wench. Clara insulted me and that beat upon me with all her force. I was strong, stronger than she at any rate. I bent her backward in a demonstration to show her who was the man. She called me "demon" and ran off. It brings a great deal of pleasure to mind when I recall that little scene so vividly enacted. She almost ran into the hallway screaming like a beaten cat.
Everytime I think of it, I have to laugh and let the feeling of a personal enjoyment evacuate my being. No matter what Clara is disposed to thinking and one never knows what this might be, I had given her use of the bathroom at all times.
She washed herself and came hack with her body covered with a lavender perfume. I saw that her whole being was neat and reposed.
Her skin became rose and I could see her breasts and their nipples underneath her thin blouse, and they stood out arrogantly and proud.
She knew very little about herself. And this was one of my sources of satisfaction. She did not know what to make of me. Was I an impossible spoiled inheritor of a vast fortune or was I serious in my many gestures?
She thought I was going to take her in my arms and make up. Nothing of the sort. I asked her to walk back and forth once again. I wanted to desire her more, if that were possible.
I was soon nude myself in another room. She was in the toilet letting warm water flow in the tub.
I want her to be the birth of my golden age. I want to see the birth of a woman. That woman's name shall be Clara. I love that name.
I can not say anymore about her. This man is the reflection of her soul and body. He shall always be, no matter where their love shall lead them.
"Do you love very much?" she ask suddenly, smiling all the while. "How much should that be?" I say with her look constantly fixed upon me.
I am nude equally as she. I have a strong feeling for her and it can easily be seen to be true. There is no sense in hiding it. She does nothing to ignore it and it is just that that makes her smile.
She approaches me with her arms hanging to her sides. She shows me all, simply and deliberately. Her stomach is not flat, but round like a small hopeful hill. The triangle of her sex is heavily cultivated with dense brush. A splendid odor is emitted from that region. It is scarcely perceptible, unless I am imagining all this.
Then I lean forward. But no. I haven't the intention of plunging into the female torrent. Clara is not going to have her pleasure yet. There is only the immense possibility parading underneath that fresh skin. I know she loves to make love. She wants me and that day will come.
And tonight?
Is she thinking of some hidden revelations. Is it possible? Tomorrow she shall no longer be a virgin. In a few hours she will abandon herself and become a part of my desire.
For the moment she is nothing. She only a woman who waits and waits... She listens but only hears the wind with its sad heavy breathing. Clara closes the windows only to grow hungrier in her silent room. A storm invades her body. She is feeling the lick of flames across her buttocks.
I advance a prudent hand toward her abandon and it shivers at the very thought of the touch. Perhaps it is only apprehension on your part, my darling. Perhaps incertitude more than fear, undoubtedly. She trembles ever so rightly and she makes me think of satin that wrinkles at the slightest touch.
"You do want me, don't you?" I can feel that she wants to know and know too much.
I have no intention of answering a forgone conclusion and let my hand wander over her bust touching gently her breast. It is firm and compact. I leaves it as quickly as I came to touch the other. Then my hand descends to her hips and I want to feel the contours of her lower body. She pivots slowly. I brush over her thighs and she emits a slight sigh.
It is the first time that I have really been introduced to her body. Her flesh is new and my hand is new also and our contact is a birth of hand and flesh.
I should ask her to lie down, but I love her as much standing. Furthermore, I want to capture my feelings, my passion in every position possible and I don't want to relinquish a minutes enjoyment.
I can feel my temples throbbing. How I should like to devour her with kisses, but instead. I remain voluntarily inactive and I can feel the strain on my sensual reflexes. I can feel a bead or two of sweat break out on my forehead. I brush it off with a sweep of my hand, and then I leave her.
Soon our bodies will be crushed together and this will forever seal our union. "May I touch you also?"
Her voice is a comfort. That question seems to make me quiver inside. I walk over to her once again and this time it is her hand that explores my body.
Instinctively I take her in my arms. I can see that she is weighty for someone so small. Perhaps I did not think of the energy that I must use.
Her rump is wonderfully round and I can feel the activity of this force as we rub bodies. I can feel her skin against mine and added thrills came into play to set my head whirling.
I can see our two forms reflected in the mirror not too far away. I had no idea that my sex had reached such proportions or that my wife was so rose as she appeared in the mirror.
I can feel the beat of my instrument and her thigh keeps time with its throbs. Her warm breath encircles the side of my neck.
I start to walk toward the mirror in order to avoid the bed. The bed, our future love nest, is behind the alcove.
Clara eyes look at me in the mirror. Our eyes meet.
"You love me, don't you?" She asked me this while I backtracked from the mirror.
"I want all of you. Your flesh, your sexual universe, everything. I want you to the very fullest of my sincere desires." I gently placed her on the bed.
She was underneath my arms gazing up into my passionate eyes. We were two nudes in the first position waiting the inevitable moment.
I leaned over her and flaked kisses all over her neck and face. It was like a bird touching the surface of a lake here and there. Her very being shivered with delight.
I drank in her odor. I can say perfume, and that would not be wrong at all. Her odor was sweet and like the scent of wild fruit in the summer air. The odor came from every nook and cranny of her handsome body. The odor infiltrated my nose. She was my bouquet and I loved her the more her freshness. My thoughts reached superb heights.
I touched her mouth. Clara crushed my lips against hers. My skin is burning and our bodies fly toward each other. My breath seems to choke in my throat.
Clara's hand is playing with my cock and this bothers me and troubles my cool tempered desires. She takes it and then lets it escape. Then she fondles it, but not out of timidity. There is something else.
She knows also.
Although she is in a position to grant me her favors, she can hold back without ignoring what she is doing.
She can feel my desire. She is entirely aware of it and not only in her spirit, but in her flesh as well. Clara is guiding her desire and mine at the same time. She holds the balance in the palm of her hand.
As the seconds pass, my contact becomes more ardent and even violent and Clara's legs unfold softly and discretely.
I take one of her breasts and cup it in my hand. While the other is free I catch the tip with my lips and give a slight squeeze. I absorb the pommel in my mouth.
It is hard and pointed. Every vital point on Clara's body is awakened and I can see the sensation of her being glide over her quivering eyelid.
Her mouth spreads open in need of air. I leave her bust in order to roam over her lower stomach which is round and swelling.
I reach her sex which is lubricating to the point of saturation and slowly she lets her leg fall open permitting my hand to slip into the moist nest. One of my fingers glides up to the anus. "Kiss me, kiss me," Clara cries with short spasms of breath.
I kiss her. Our lips lock together. I feel a current which rumbles in my body. My veins seem to be on fire.
My hand leaves that area where Clare has held me prisoner. It strolls along her thighs. She must move and I sense the slow undulation of her bottom beckoning me.
My body is right up to hers. Clara snuggles up to me and glues herself against me. Then her hand lowers to catch my sex. Once found she gives it a light squeeze and I can feel it grow sturdy and hard. I feel the need to penetrate. A sharp response leads me to believe that something will happen. But I hold back. No, not yet.
I leave her mouth in order to float over her body numerous embraces which lead to her abdomen. Then I bury my face in her comely V and take hold of her two butt halves in order to integrate them with my desire.
For a moment I live in that habitat. I can feel her pivot to gain a favorable position which she no doubt hungers for.
I feel a warm tongue run up my gland. (It was surprising that her instinct knew that I didn't want her hand but something else before I asked her for it.) I fathomed a quality that I never before knew existed in her. She placed her petaled lips over the tip of my sex and I felt the warm saliva roll around over the head.
I heard her sigh as I took a more comfortable position. I wanted to look at her so I sided up to her and lay there on my side.
One glance told us that we could resume oar mutual work. So we parted temporarily from the head of one another to follow our previous course of action.
Ordinarily I don't like the position of "head-foot". I prefer being underneath which I find is much more sensual and goes better with my particular emotional pattern. But this time, I could accept the arrangement due to Clara's apparent innocence. I reacted simply to give vent to a uniform motion and not a disconcerted attempt at several indecisive plays.
That may be for later.
As well as other things.
My head was full of blood and that was undoubtedly due to the discomfort of the position. Besides I knew that I would change this inconvenience very shortly.
I felt that spasmatic breathing of my wife and it seemed to be contagious with me and enter in my system. I drank her abundantly I caressed her brush with several long strokes of the tongue. I tasted her and what I sucked was bitter and warm. I brought her up to my sensitive mouth and felt her pulsate under my oral interpretation.
She did her best with me and she followed my rhythm with impeccable care. While she added her talents to the act, I tapped at her rear buttonhole with my forefinger which I had long thought was the most sensitive finger that I had. I was very fragile wit the edges of this immense treasure.
I simply traced a graph for future developments. My plans were to come. However, she responded to my commands and I felt her joy through the powers of lubrication.
Little by little I introduced my little finger into her rear fente and was careful not to go to far. I was quite aware that this had a strange effect no woman and goes their breathing to come out in spurts.
She showed an increasing desire for our love and this came as a happy surprise. My tongue was quite active. It appeared that Clara was enjoying her trials of love. Each touch had its private meaning and its particular nuance. My wife harmonized with me and this made me very content.
I knew what I wanted to do then, hut it shall come later. I vowed that it would. I occupied myself with her new and fresh sex which inspired my love. For a moment I was guided by morals which had nothing to do with two love birds who are united in soul and body. Our sensuality spoke for us.
I decided not to attempt certain actions that evening unless I was forced to.
Suddenly she came.
It was a long spasm which threw her out of her lucid self and made her desire unconsciously and perhaps consciously the same reaction on my part.
I let myself go. Now I was riveted against her and I pushed my cock in and out of her mouth with all my force all the while holding her two rosy cheeks. My mouth drank in her flood of warm liquid. I lapped up every drop.
As I was on the verge of disposing of my sperm, I stuck my forefinger in her anus simultaneously with the sharp cry that issued from my lips. I was drunk with happiness. I felt as though I were going to break in two. Then with a stiffened back and my head charged backwards, I unloosened my desire and caused a flow of all my passions. I soon plunged into the emptiness of the impossible.
There are moments when I prefer to tell the story in the future tense. This lends the touch of actual instant and places my memory into the very heart of things as they were.
When I write of what has past, I am simply gathering up steam for the future storms. It is regretful for the reader to understand the very motive of this frequent "mimuse" of tenses, but he must feel along with me. Sense what I have sensed and try to understand my pleasure and defeat. My hunger and my spontaneity. The use of the past tense is to incite the future and the present the prolong the past.
I live for tomorrow to bring me better news. Today was too good to be true. I beg tomorrow to verify it for in a different manner.
For many minutes I lay there immobile and pressing that adorable sex close to my cheek and mouth.
Then slowly, I placed my tongue in Clara's love box and I felt her agitation and slow rhythmic gests which awakened her from sweet dream to sweet reality.
I felt her Hp lap in my cock, absorb it and burn it with the tip of her tongue. Her timid hands searched out other particles of flesh.
I didn't wanted to provoke her unduly. I slipped my dick from her oral cave and her the sound of suction which added a thrill to the release which came as a deception to her. I took her in my arms and brought her face up close to mine. My hand caroused along the outline of her lips.
She understood. She opened her mouth and I put in the forefinger which she racked on instinctly. I smiled and delighted in this wicked pleasure. Several times I accomplished the same gest to show her that there was no harm in it. I lowered my finger down to her anus and brought the excretion up to my mouth and sucked on the delicious substance.
She moaned with a child's delight and begged me to continue. But I wanted to reserve this pleasure and others for another time.
I loved to her hear exciting cries of desire. I loved the way she moved about seeking her pleasure. I adored the way she insisted on certain prolonged movements.
This flesh that was hers and mine and always at the same time remaining hers, I wanted to break it apart at one crack with the fires of jubilance.
Clara is a wonderful woman to suck. Her sex has the tinge of a tigress and thousands of savourous liqueurs dwell in that region. The taste of it mixing with my saliva is a nourishment which excites my appetite. This frenzied meal of the secretions of woman brings me to such a pitch that I am able to draw in every drop to the point where she, and not I, falls powerless on the bed.
I am not one who gives up easily in love. I always feel that my astonishing wife is at the point of coming. She has a fascinating way of loosing control of herself.
I can take possession of her at will now and I adore to have her furiously and insist upon the fulfillment of our desires.
She is coming to life now and I can understand what she wishes. A few muddled words break out from her lovely full mouth. They are accompanied by sighs and gasps. I kiss her and we lay there sewed to one another. Her body fits with the curves and spaces of my own. We become one member. My hands reach to her hips and my nails dig into her warm flesh. Her tongue excites me as it penetrates mouth which opens without opposition. My sex responds with a bound in her favor. My prick knocks against her vagina and slops around in the wonderful wetness.
Progressively I slow up my rhythm and direct my lance toward the borders of her pussy. I want to touch ever tiny corner and awaken every crease of flesh.
Clara senses this change and makes her move. She contracts, unfolds, opens and shows that she is at loss as to how to express her desires.
My hands are knotted over her shoulders and my fingers pat the rounder part of her hips. I refuse to permit her any movement of her lower carriage. My finger crawls down the small of her back and the sensation makes her spin around. My hands fall on the contour of her ass. She feels abandoned. But no, this is not true. A subtle finger crawls up to her little crack and begins to explore that special nature.
"Is it good?"
My question freed her from her misgivings. She opened her eyes widely and her glance met mine. She began to stammer and then throw herself against me like a happy thing.
I made her a silent creature by giving her a kiss. I didn't want to hear the words she was about to say and I decided to dissuade them.
An instant later, I lay there with a miniscule part of me embedded in her rump. I heard her gasp softly and her rump seemed to rear back and cry for a greater penetration. I allowed her to crawl onto my finger which remain lucid but inactive. I felt her fill the room with a string of "Ahhhs... " I put my face on fer shoulder and in one move smothered my head under her armpits. What a pleasure to swim in that superb acid bath. I inhaled as though I wanted to drag all of her into my essence.
She raised her arm to help me not forget the many sections of wondrous flesh that were available to me. I rolled around like a drunken boat. I licked her all over and she was covered with my saliva which gave her a clean wet look. My spittle collaborated with her pungent sweat. I loved her armpits and went from one to the other and drew in her odor like I had never done before.
"Oh my lore you are so delectable. I can not help loving your scent, my flower of love."
She placed herself in an intriguing position and I felt my sex inserted in her nest without knowing of it. Then her box squeezed and I felt the joyous pleasure that made my head swim. She turned and bucked all the while sucking in my long cock. I was busy sucking in her substance. I could feel her voluptuousness and her happiness rise with every strident cry.
I weighed upon her with my charged body and permitted my sex to dig into her vitals. Clara was in a world of her own. She had not even noticed that I had withdrawn leaving my sperm roll down her thighs and between the crack of her ass.
As she slowly came to regaining her consciousness, I flooded her with a slow trickle of my liquid once again. Half was inside her while the other half left her to caress her thighs.
Mechanically I placed my finger on the substance and placed some liquid on her stomach. She watched me accomplish this innocent gest and smiled.
"An infinite number of little lords." I said smiling in my turn.
"It's so good." she said raising herself in order to watch the gentle flow.
We embraced each other and fell laughing on to the bed.