"My Mother Taught Me" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kung Tor)

Chapter Three

I went up to my room excited and disturbed by all I had heard and seen. Although the hall was brilliantly lit by a great glass chandelier, my room was dark and, without turning on the light, I closed the door and lay down. For some time I stared up at the immense blackness trying to take in all that had happened. Gradually I became aware of a diffused light in the room. Stirring up a little and looking around, I discovered that it came from the crack beneath a door which apparently led to another room. I quickly moved close to the door. Then hesitated; fearing to open it, but ashamed of the idea of peeking through the keyhole. However, this last compunction was soon overwhelmed by my curiosity and, kneeling down, I placed my eye to the opening.

At first I could see nothing. Then as my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I discovered I was peering into the most marvelous room I had ever seen. Everything was silk and satin, and lace and silk, and velvet and silk. Immediately before me was a screen, and over it was whiteness hanging, and silk. Silk stockings were lying on the deep white rug. Strange, delicate garments were scattered on the white furniture. There was a giant bed and over it hung a canopy of white silk. Even the bedspread was silk. And everywhere was whiteness. Hardly had I taken this in when a. woman came into my range of vision. The kimono she wore was silk. It was also white. The woman was Mother.

She moved in her bare feet to a dressing table which stood to the right of the screen and began to brush her hair, watching herself in the mirror. As she ran the brush through it in a long steady stroke, her chin tilted up slightly showing her face in clear profile to me. Nothing can describe that beauty! The white, white skin, and the clean line of nose and cheek and throat. I stared in complete awe and reverence.

The brush almost sang through her hair making it flash gold and red and amber in the light. But fascinating as it was to watch this constant transformation of light and beauty, my eyes crept to her body which was swaying gracefully with the motion of her arm. I noticed how with each stroke the silk of the kimono clung, slid along, and then fell away from the litheness of her. I stared. When the robe was against her it spoke of her body. When it fell away, the light caught in it and I could almost see through. I became obsessed with the need to know if there was anything underneath… if she was naked underneath! But I couldn't be sure. Everything was motion and the robe never was still enough for me to define what I saw. She turned slightly, so that her reflection was full for me. I discovered that the robe was fastened at her throat, but open from there down. So that every time she moved, the gown opened a little. But always it closed before I could see more than an indistinct glory of whiteness and flesh. But I could tell at least that there was nothing under the robe. Nothing! The robe parted and closed. Almost with the same motion. Parted and shut. My eyes strained to catch a detail. I remembered how they once told me how lightning was a crack in the floor of heaven, and that if you looked quickly enough you could see into paradise. I had tried and tried. I tried and tried now. With the same results. Finally I shifted my attention. First to her beautiful shining arms where the full sleeves had fallen back, giving me the plump, rounded, firm arms. Then I noticed how the body was silhouetted. I fixed on the curves of her. On how the torso flowed down and in to the amazingly small waist, and then out to full rounded hips. And down. I could see her legs. She was standing with them apart, so the long, limber perfection of them was clear. But mostly I feasted on her breasts. They were obviously unfettered under the thin silk. As her arm brushed and brushed, they came alive. The great lush weight of them swayed, leaped, swung, pranced, jiggled, shook, quivered, undulated, pulsed, wiggled, and tossed. The breasts were high and firm despite the fullness, and the ends had small points that traced messages on the robe that I struggled to read.

Mother meanwhile was constantly looking at herself in the mirror with a languorous intensity. Her strokes lengthened as she drew the brush through that long cascade of loveliness, and a flush came to her cheek as her motion quickened and the hair picked up more and more fire from the light. Her eyes seemed to caress her body in the mirror even as mine were doing. The realization of one to me was as startling as the other. A liquid feeling of weakness filled me and a tingling ran over my thighs. Could this be the result of love for her? Holy love? Something in me doubted it profoundly and I was more and more disturbed.

Then she put the brush on the dressing table and, reaching her hands to her neck, she undid the clasp of the robe. She stood admiring herself appreciatively. I could see nothing, yet at the very suggestion of her taking off the gown I was quivering with what seemed more than filial anticipation. I stood transfixed. Mother kept gazing at herself, moving her body slightly all the time. Then she ran her hands up under the robe as though to take it off.

I was paralyzed by anticipation and shock. But this was followed instantly by a convulsion of shame and embarrassment. Somehow I tore my eyes away from the keyhole and stumbled to my feet forcing myself to return to bed.

I was so ashamed. I lay on the bed goading myself with the vileness I had in me. My mind lashed itself for the foulness of peeking through keyholes at a woman. At a lady, who was my mother! I had lusted after her nakedness. In another second I would have looked on my mother's nakedness. I would have seen all her intimacy of flesh.

At this thought, a wild sword of loss stabbed through me. I leaped from the bed and raced to the keyhole while a voice cried “Too late. Too late. Missed it.” As I fell to my knees by the door, a spasm of hunger seized me like a cramp. I couldn't even see I was so frantic to look.

Finally I calmed at least enough to see a little.

Mother was still wearing the robe. This was all I could take at first. There was disappointment, but then a hope began hammering in me. I might still see. Then I realized that something strange was happening. Mother was watching herself as before in the mirror. Her hands were inside the robe, and were slowly stroking her breasts. I strained to see but the angle was wrong. She kept gently stroking and caressing inside the robe as though she were doing what I had seen Annie do for Father. Her head fell back now and her lips parted slightly as her eyes closed. Slowly a flush came into her face and a look of mounting joy. Her breathing quickened and her hands moved faster.

I was seized with a fine trembling all over, something was going to happen, the nature of which was beyond me. Her caresses became more insistent, as her breathing quickened still more. Then she slid one hand down over her stomach and began moving back and forth at the point where her legs joined, while the other remained at her breast. Suddenly she began to shake as a low moaning came from her parted lips. She raised her shoulders and her body writhed as she started to shake off the robe. I was going to see! There was a flash of white shoulder, a blur of side, legs. But at that second, the hall door beside me opened and I was blinded by sudden brilliant light.

For an instant I was helpless, petrified. Caught. Completely exposed kneeling there peeking into Mother's keyhole. I jumped up in terror and ran to the bed sure of my ruin. I threw myself face down in the pillow sobbing with self-incrimination for having destroyed all that life had been about to offer me. The door closed and there was darkness again. A long time went by. I lay there with my heart pounding! I could tell someone was in the room, but I couldn't tell who. I could hear them breathing it was so quiet. Was it Father? I was sick with fear and shame and loss. Then out of the dark, a voice. Gunilla's voice:

“What are we going to do with you? I mean really! Four hours in the house and already you've managed to look everybody over. First me, looking down my dress while I poured the coffee. Then spying on Annie and Father… now Mother! Shameful! What will you do after you've had time to establish yourself? A woman won't be able to relax for a minute for fear you'll be looking up her dress, or down it, or peeking through the keyhole, or boring holes in the walls, or setting up periscopes, or… well, I can't even imagine! But there's no telling what a boy like you will do. What are we to do with you around? We'll have to start locking ourselves in closets if we want to undress!”

I stared into the darkness towards her and began to cry.

“Oh, please, Gunilla, I'll change-I'll change,” I pleaded. “Please don't tell-I promise I'll change. I'll…”

A low, throaty laugh came from the dark. Her voice began again, softer and husky. “Please don't, Lars. Please don't change. Can you realize what it is to a house full of women without men to have you around all at once? Someone who is interested in them? You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to us! Imagine it! On this estate all the time, miles from any town, and only women to talk to! To be with! Father doesn't count because he is away all the time. Now, at last, YOU! And you're wonderful! You're completely perverted. You really want to go! You are all over the place from the moment you step into the house! Marvelous! Of course you don't know anything, but you are eager to learn. And I'm a great teacher!”

She seemed to sense my disbelief and continued reassuringly. “Yes, I mean it! I'll help you. I'll teach you everything I know and help you learn from the others what they know and I don't. I'll give you everything. Everything. Everything you want!” Her voice rose and there was a strange, new hunger in it as she continued: “Let me explain. You have to understand. You see-you have-you have something in you… something other people don't… something I've been looking for for a long time and never seen. You see… but I keep forgetting, you know nothing of the world… but I'll tell you anyway- just take me on faith-you see, people everywhere-everyone I meet and everyone I read about-has something wrong with them that prevents then- being alive. And they never get a chance to find out because their lives are all caught up in the whirl and they can't even begin properly. But we, out here alone with these women-no one to bother us and nothing else to distract us-you and I who have this particular focus -the capability to have it-we can discover together what it is all about. The final thing-what that is about!” Her voice was charged with more and more excitement: this I could tell although most of what she said was beyond me and seemed meaningless. “I have been thinking about this and wondering and yearning, but I had no one to share it with and explore. Now I have you, and I will give you everything! I will give you whatever you want. All of me. All. A sixteen-year-old girl to supply every one of your fantasies. And I will help you to have the others. 111 help you watch Mother undress and play with herself. And you can watch her through the keyhole into the bath I share with her. Every day. Every night… I'll fix it so you can watch Father take her when he is home. Mother is a great adventure. I'll tell you about her… she is very much alive, but terribly shy and frustrated. She has all the right instincts, but doesn't know what to do with them. She's wild and indecent, but she needs a little help to get started. Why when I was a child she used to… but I'll tell you about that some other time. Anyway, she will be fine once she gets into it. I'll give her to you, Lars. You'll have your lovely sweet mother moaning and begging under you. And Louise. I'll help you get her. She will be tougher, since she's so innocent. But we shall have her! Yes. Yes.” Her voice rising with excitement, constantly. “We shall have her, too. Yes. Little Louise will be your toy. She will do all the fine perverted things you have hidden in you that you don't even know about yet. And Annie. She will be your slave. She is a slave. All you have to do is stare at her and talk dirty and she becomes a nymphomaniac. She can't help it. Then you can use her any way you want. You can beat her if you want. Or take pictures of her. Or make her crawl after you. Lars, I will give you the whole All Baba treasure cave of flesh-of woman. You can even have Father as a servant if you want. Anything, Lars. Anything!” She paused. “But I guess this is a bit beyond you, isn't it, Lars?” She seemed to take my incredulous silence as an affirmative. “But never mind… we'll get to all that-I guess I have to really start from scratch with you. Yes.” And then after a pause: “But it is worth it, worth anything and besides, come to think of it, it will be great fun… great fun teaching you from the beginning!”

There was a long pause. Then I felt her sit down on the bed. I must have jumped in surprise for there was a low giggle, followed by a new, calm, teasing tone: “Don't be afraid. I just thought I'd pay you a little visit. After all, if we are going to be brother and sister, and especially if we are going to investigate together all the things we've been talking about together, we do have to get to know each other.”

I didn't know what to say. In all this time I had had no idea what to say or do nor how to react. I lay without moving waiting to see what would happen, my heart racing. She went on, her tone changing more and more to an easy banter.

“Mother said that you had never even seen a girl before today.” She paused. I knew she expected an answer. I was petrified but somehow managed stuttering:

“I-I guess I am rather strange!”

She giggled again.

“I guess you are-boy! After supper I managed to ask Father what Mother had meant. Is it true what they say? That you never saw a girl, or her body, or anything?”

“Well I…”

“Come on, Lars, you can tell me. I'm your sister now, you know! I just mean is it true about your never seeing women or anything?”

“Yes, it's true-never before Mother yesterday, and then the ones we saw travelling, and then you tonight.”

“Jesus! Boy, that's really fantastic! And you never touched, or felt a girl or anything?”

“No, no, never. Never saw nor was around any-except the old matrons at the orphanage in England.”

“Wow! And boy, did you look me over! No wonder, you poor kid! But, wow!” and she started giggling again, but with what seemed a new excitement. “Never even saw a girl. Just never having been kissed would be great, but never to have even SEEN a girl!” And then suddenly: “Here, give me your hand!” She reached for me, touching my body in a way that embarrassed me in her search, so I took my hand, which had been under the sheet, out and held it toward her. It touched the softest thing I had ever felt: the filmy sheer blouse she was wearing, and I felt underneath a strange sensation of flesh that gave to the touch.

But before I could register it, she had taken my hand and was softly stroking it on the palm, and running her fingers gently along the inside of my arm in a way that made me gasp.

“Would you like to know about what a girl is like, Lars?”

“Well-do you mean?” I hesitated. “Well, sure, I would. But I guess I will gradually get to know girls being here with you and Louise.”

“No, I mean what girls are really like. The way they are different than boys-you know, underneath?”

“Well, uh.” I didn't know just what she meant, and I didn't know what to say. I was terribly embarrassed.

“You wanted to see inside my blouse when I served you coffee.” She giggled again. “What were you looking for?”

I just gasped, flushed red in the dark, and couldn't speak.

“It was so great, Lars. All of a sudden I realized you wanted coffee so you could look down in my blouse! Wow. And when I saw the way you looked, I started to get wet. In fact, I got so sopping wet that I was afraid it would run down my leg. And that last time, when I opened the new button, I thought you were going to nuzzle your head right in when I bent down. As it was, I almost spilled them out in your face. Oh, how much I wanted to. I wanted so much to reach in and lift them out and work them into the gaping mouth of my new little brother. I might do just that, Lars. Would you like that? Just think, a few hours ago, you were having a heart attack just to see a little in my blouse, and now I'm going to let you suck them.”

I almost passed out.

“But you have to show you want it, Lars. You have to come and get a little to start me. Don't you want to get your hands in my clothes, little brother? Don't you want a little feel of your new sister, Lars?”

“We can't turn on the lights now as they might notice, but you can feel anything you want. Unbutton me a little and see!” And she took my hand and placed it on the top button of her blouse.

I was paralyzed with timidity and embarrassment, but she moved my hand on the button and it came open.

“Don't be afraid now, I won't bite you!” She kept giggling happily at my confusion. “Come on, now. Unbutton another one!”

The blouse was so soft and inviting, and beneath my confusion and timidity I was becoming very interested and excited. Something told me this was not very proper, but as before, I had this other force in me which made me not care. And as my hand rested on her chest, I could feel the gentle warmth of her skin which heightened my growing tension.

Gunilla took my hand now and moved it across her skin and up along her neck.

“Doesn't it feel different, Lars?” she asked.

“It is so soft and fine,” I amazed myself by saying, “I-uh -I like the way it feels.” I could not speak easily. It was all so strange, and all the time something in me kept wondering if it was proper.

“Another button now. This is the Arabian Nights, Lars. And I will show you all the wonders one by one until…” She paused suggestively. My hand released two more buttons, I was becoming eager. Then I reached for the last, opened it, and found my hand lying against the warmth of her stomach. She had absolutely nothing on beneath the flimsy blouse.

“Now, new born little brother, feel this.” She drew my fingers across her stomach and up her side. The skin was unbelievably supple and soft. “And this,” taking my hand to the front of her chest near her fine neck, then slowly down to where the skin softened even more and began to rise outward. I trembled with awe and excitement, remembering the brief glimpse of what lay below, and hot daring to hope that she would actually lead me to those!

“And now these” she invited, moving my fingers along the edge of her right breast which seemed incredibly full. My fingers trembled against her.

“Yes, Lars,” she whispered. “It's my breasts. The hidden things you wanted so much to see. Touch them. Do like that -it feels wonderful on me. Do it more!” My trembling kept increasing, but I did at the same time move my hand on her.

“Yes, dear, like that. Here, just run your fingers around me and explore a bit.” And when I still hesitated: “Remember I'm your sister now, Lars-so it's all in the family. Come on, just do it-feel me, Lars-you'll like it.” And emboldened by her I ran my hand over the miracle. Never had I dreamed of such flesh! So soft, and yielding, when I pressed a little with my fingertips the sensation burned in my palms and a strange singing caroled in me. The indecency of it-of what I was doing!

“You sure do feel strange-and wonderful,” I said daringly. And then I suddenly caught my breath in a short gasp, and Gunilla uttered a moan as my hand slid to the end of her sloping breast and encountered something new, something hard and round.

“Yes, yes, there! Rub that a little-yes!” Her breathing was quicker and the easy tone had left her voice. I was getting so excited and eager that I fumbled at it, but kept rubbing my hand on it as she said, the feeling growing in me as I felt her tension mount.

But now I was trying to take in the whole thing. My hand moved more boldly, and I moved it around the breast, half in wonder. It was so large and soft. Nothing I had ever felt was quite like it nor so strange. The way it curved from her chest at the top, and out to such incredible size at the bottom. I felt underneath, lifting the heavy weight of it in my palm, a little, and wanting it in a way I can't describe.

Gunilla seemed a little less confident. There was a note of pleading in her voice now.

“Do you like it, Lars?” she asked a little breathlessly. “Here, it has a sister, you know!” And she took my other hand which had been lying between us as I sat up in bed, and placed it inside her blouse on the other side.

It was incredible to me that a person could have such bounty of flesh. I had never known anything so thrilling as the feel of them.

Gunilla was gently taking my hands now and leading them down the sides till they reached the two hard buds at the ends.

“Those are my nipples, dear-don't you like them?” she was asking.

“Gosh, Nilla,” I exclaimed. “Yes! I…”

“Play with them, then. I like you to.” As I began to feel and squeeze at them, they grew harder and harder and her breath quickened as before. My fingers trembled so much I hardly knew what I was feeling, and the tips which were touching her began to tingle like an electric shock. As I kept feeling her, I moved my fingers around the nipples a bit and felt the soft, pink circles I had glimpsed earlier, but I kept coming back to the hard buds with ever mounting excitement.

She took my hands again and placed the palms on the nipples, gently rotating them. It tickled terribly, but the feeling had me wild and I twisted slightly in the bed and leaned forward instinctively, sometimes poking the breast with the fingers of one hand while I rubbed the nipple of the other breast with the other.

Nilla's breath was coming in gasps, and she wanted more and more.

“Harder and faster. Please, Lars,” she whispered. “Please, dear! Oh, what a sweet little brother! Harder now-yes, yes- please, Lars-Oh, it's good!” I grew bolder, and kneaded them, worked them with all the strength in my hands until, with a little sigh, she slid forward with her head in my lap, beginning at the same time to stroke my legs.

I was embarrassed because I feared she would feel my swollen penis. But I was so wildly excited that I hardly cared. She sat up again, moving her fingers to my face with a soothing touch, stroking my temples gently.

“Now, Lars, you must learn how to undress a girl a bit further. Did you like me up there? You kept looking so hard, before-are you satisfied?”

I gulped, all confusion again, and didn't know how or what to say. Then finally: “Oh, yes, Nilla-I'm sorry, I just don't…”

“That's all right, Lars, I understand. But here now, try this!” And she took my hand again and put it to the side of her skirt where she helped me to unhook it, and then to unzip the zipper that held it together. Then standing beside the bed she said:

“Now pull it down all the way-that's it.” Afterwards, she came back on the bed and lay beside me. I was so startled that I almost jumped out, but the excitement was still in me, and she had my hand again and was saying:

“Feel this now-do you like it?” She moved my hand over her tight warm stomach and down. I discovered the panties she was wearing. I guess they were of the same material as Annie's earlier, but these I had only seen in half light and from a distance. I had never known any material that felt so delicate-like silk, I guess. And Nilla was running my hands over her belly now and asking me:

“Do you feel this elastic band, Lars? Reach inside it now! Come on, don't be afraid! Reach inside, Lars. I have some wonderful gifts for you in my pants. All you have to do is have the courage to push your hand under the elastic. Daddy gives me a hundred kroner just for this. I give it to you Lars, I give everything to you. Reach under, Lars. Feel in my pants. Feel me, little brother. Feel your little sister Gunilla.”

I timidly slipped my hand inside the band, and found the skin of her belly soft but firm. With growing interest and excitement I pushed it further, down. I encountered incredibly fine hair right above where I supposed her penis was. But I was trembling hard, and I didn't know for sure how far to go.

“Take your other hand now and pull my panties down,” Gunilla lectured me. “Here, kneel beside me, and you can do it better.”

I guess I was so excited that I forgot about myself and how, if I did this, my penis would be exposed. Because of that weird feeling of guilt, I was embarrassed about it, but it didn't matter. I got up on my knees and, using both hands, took the band on either side of her waist and started sliding it down. She lifted herself somehow. The flesh of her hips was smooth and supple, and my hands, touching it, trembled more and more.

“Feel my leg as you do it, Lars,” Gunilla was telling me. “Isn't it different than yours?” Complying eagerly, I ran my hands over her thighs, and intermittently pulled at the panties.

“Gosh, it sure is, Nilla,” I exclaimed in a small voice, still afraid and shy of her and all that was happening.

“There, now pull them off over my legs and ankles,” she directed, settling back and pulling her legs up to make it easier for me to do. I felt the fine curve of her long legs, and the delicate ankles-even daring to feel one as I took the panties off. She giggled again at this and said:

“Now, Lars, I'm all naked and all yours tonight. It's like we were on our magic carpet. Feel me wherever and however you like. Be free, Lars-and don't fear to do anything you want! You've never seen a girl, and you can't see me now. But you can feel me, and discover a lot that way. There must be many other things about a girl than my breasts that you'd like to know, and that you never dreamed about. So feel me. I'm your magic girl! I will permit you anything!”

All this time, rising and falling, but always going on, excitement and curiosity had been coming like waves stronger and stronger in me. Gunilla was so sweet and natural about everything, and my sense of guilt and shame was slipping further away. So, taking courage, aided by the dense dark where everything was unseen, and a little like a fairy dream rather than reality, I began tentatively to explore.

I ran my fingers gingerly over her feet, marvelling that they could seem so nude, over the ankles, and up the smooth curving calves, till I reached her knees. They were like Mother's round and delicately formed, graceful. And then I continued up her full, plump, hot thighs, and eventually, even dared to slide over to her loins, noticing with tense fascination how the harder flesh of the thigh melted to the loose, sensuous flesh on the inner side. This excited me even more. I squeezed gently at her inner leg, and as I ran my fingers even higher, she lay back with a slight sigh against the pillow.

But this stopped me in confusion because it reminded me somehow of what I was doing and instinctively, of where I was: that I was approaching the core of the miracle.

“What's wrong, dear,” she asked me. “Don't be afraid now, you're almost there, little brother, so don't stop now!” But somehow her voice only inhibited me more as it brought me back toward reality.

“Help me, Nilla-I-well…” and I ran out of words as the shyness returned and for a moment some strange memory tried to tug at my mind and take it away. But Gunilla had her hands on my wrists now, drawing me higher.

“Come, Lars, I'll help you! Is your leg soft like this? or like this? And does it have this?” And she gradually drew my hands up till they felt the brush of hair again, fine and thin on the ends of her loins.. “And now, Lars, haven't you ever wondered about this?” And to my amazement and embarrassment she began to draw me slowly across her pubic hair towards where her organ must be.

“Nilla-I” and my voice raised in consternation, for surely this must be very private-but at the same time that compulsion was on me to discover this above all. I stopped her gradual movement and froze.

“Lars, I told you, everything-everything is yours to learn -come, come on-feel me-I know you'll like it! It's all right, I promise you!” And slowly but firmly she moved me in again, around, all over it!

And suddenly the strangeness overcame all else. My fingers reached for her and tried to feel carefully over the fine mass of hair. But where was it? There was nothing there! I guess it had never occurred to me that women didn't have a penis of some sort like mine, and the discovery was a shock. Gunilla had my hand again and was pushing it down between her legs, moving it against first one, then the other, and sliding it in the strange fluid I found there. She rubbed my hand against her hair, and when I touched a part that seemed bare of hair and very slippery, she shivered and stiffened suddenly.

“But…” I began. Her breathing was very rapid now.

“No, no-you see I don't have one-aren't you surprised?” She spoke rapidly now in a tense voice. “But here, Lars, see what I do have! Feel here, now, and here!” She put my fingers into a hole between her legs which was all liquid and warm. It was the strangest thing I'd ever known. And somehow the most fantastically exciting. The hole seemed to close on my fingers. To kiss and suck at them. A honey flowed from her into my hand. Each time I moved my fingers in the hole, it trembled and Gunilla writhed-making little mewing sounds. Then she began moaning: “The other too, Lars. Please, the other too.” And drawing my hand up, rubbed, or slid it across a fold of skin in a crack between the hairs where they thinned out. At this last she twisted and moaned:

“Lars, darling, please stroke me there-yes, like that, dearest, back and forth on it-now quicker, quicker, quicker, darling! And here, put your two fingers of this hand in here for me?” She took my left hand which was free, fumbling for it wildly at first in the dark, and put my two middle fingers into the slippery warm hole I had just felt… “Pull it in and out, precious, in and out-that's it-and keep rubbing with the other hand-yes-stroke it faster, faster, faster!” Her voice rose and the urgency mounted with each word.

And I was completely lost! Wild with excitement from where I know not, I complied with her every wish as best as my trembling and shaking hands were able. A weird giddiness came in my head which fell forward on her stomach, and instinctively, from some force I do not understand, I began licking it with my tongue. But this impeded my left arm, and Gunilla pushed me up and back.

“Lick me, lick me, Lars, but bend to do it. Don't ever stop with your hands…” Her voice was low and husky now… “But here, here, keep this hand in,” holding my left hand and moving her hand with it in and out, “and lick me here, here on my clitoris! Quick, Lars. Suck me-you'll like it! Please. I'll be your slave, only please suck me. Eat me, Lars, little brother.” And she pushed my head down into the hair to where I was stroking her. I was caught with a moment of revulsion at this, but as her hand pressed on my neck, her fingers gently pressing and squeezing, drawing me down, a sudden liquid feeling of compliance crept over me blotting out everything else. My head seemed to be bursting with the need to please, to succumb, to comply, and over it all this dreamy vagueness.

My mouth was in her hair now, and realizing vaguely that I was to lick the fold I had been stroking, I began to do so. A strong but wonderful smell was everywhere, and it took me back somewhere in my childhood, but I only knew it was beautiful, and like love, and that it was beautiful now-that it was love, and I wanted to tell her, but I wanted more to only keep licking her.

“O, yes, little brother. Dear little sucking brother. Eat me! Eat me! Eat me-eat me!”

In all this I had forgotten to use my fingers in her and now she drew them out and replaced them with her own, her other hand, stroking my hair, running the fingers through it, and pressing me against her. Her legs raised and grasped my head, and she was moaning and twisting her head in pleasure. And as the tension grew in me again, I licked harder and harder, seeming by instinct to know how to please her. But she was whispering hoarsely to me:

“Suck me, Lars, harder now-faster, faster, darling, darling, Lars, lick me, my juice, Lars-come on, come on-yes lover,-I'm coming now, I'm coming-oh, lick me, SUCK ME SUCK SUCK SUCK! AIIII! Ahhh!” Something had happened. Something gigantic. I knew that, even if I didn't know what it was. Gunilla had covered her mouth with the pillow to muffle her last great moans. Then she went all limp. She gently put her hands on my head and drew it to her stomach, tenderly stroking me and murmuring incoherently.

Images swam in my head: images of joy and wholeness and power. Memory picked at my brain but I was possessed.

After a while, her hands slid down from my head, unbuttoned my pyjamas, and slid down my chest. Then along the sides of my body. I shook spasmodically. Her fingers played across my stomach causing the muscles to spasm. I know I was murmuring things helplessly, saying her name, and other things I don't know in a strange voice, begging for something I did not realize nor understand.

Then, sliding inside the pants of my pyjamas her hands ran over my belly, and then on the sides of my legs.

As I jerked and shook, twisting under her touch, completely helpless in her hands, she began giggling. And kept playfully moving towards my penis, but never touching it. I don't know why this maddened me. But I tried to twist my torso towards her hand, tried to get her to touch my penis. Somewhere in my head was the thought that this was terrible, but it was blotted out by a need which was as uncontrollable as it was new to me.

Once I almost got her to touch me, but she swept away in time, only slightly brushing my erect organ. Gunilla laughed low and teased me:

“Don't know what it is you want, do you, brother? Where is it you want me to play with you? Is it here, or here?” And she touched my stomach, and my loins, both sending shivers of frustration through me… “Or do you want it here, lover boy.” And she began sensuously stroking across my pubic hair till I nearly screamed… “Or is it here, darling,” and she slid her hand beneath my back and caressed lightly with her fingers on my backsides.

“Or do you want something different, little brother. Are you ashamed to say it.” Her fingers were in my pubic hair again, stroking and stroking. Getting closer. “Or maybe you don't even know the name of it. But you want me to touch it, don't you, Lars? Don't you?” I couldn't speak. I was being lifted and lifted on a tremendous wave. “You have to ask for it, though, Lars. You have to ask for it so I'll know you really don't dislike it. Say: Please, little sister Gunilla.” Her fingers were so close.

“Please,” I heard myself gasping. “O please, little sister Gunilla.” Her fingers reached me. Her hot hands clasped me. The great wave broke and I fell in a welter of joy. Spurt after spurt after spurt fountained from me all over her and the bed and me. My mind was buried in the masses of the wave. Just before it closed over me, I heard her marvelous laugh, and she kissed me. And ran away. Darkness and joy flooded me. I fainted.