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

Chapter Six

I was already in my room when I remembered Gunilla. I looked at the clock on the dresser. It was ten after ten. Almost an hour. I lay down to think. One of my greatest problems in this house was that one strange and unknown experience followed another so quickly that I had no time to reflect nor to digest it. I had the feeling that I was growing and changing rapidly, but I could not be sure how or to what extent because the rush of events rarely left me time to be in touch with myself.

What had it been, for example, that I had felt tonight for Mother? Surely this at least in me was right and pure! And yet the same emotions I had felt last night for Gunilla had been with me again tonight. The same reaction to Mother as to the other. It was true. I had to face it. But how could my pure love be confused with the other? It must be in me that the ugliness lay. That was revolting.

But perhaps it was good for me. Perhaps I had to go through these things to come to deserve Mother. Or perhaps I had to learn to resist and be untempted by them to deserve her. Then I remembered little Louise and her shrine. The sudden, absolute realization of what I was! The inevitable reality.

Just as the hands approached eleven I recalled Gunilla last night, the feel of her in the dark, the gradual, incredible revelation. I remembered once more in my fingers the soft fullness of her breasts, the hardness of the nipples. How her flesh responded on her belly-the fine pubic hairs-the impossible ecstasy of tasting her. As I remembered a fine sweat broke out all over me, and once more that strange hunger in my loins came on me.

What did she look like? And would I discover this tonight? The eagerness mounting in me, overcoming the resolution to abstain, I ran my hand over my face, but the imagined image of her remained, taunting and driving me in ways I did not understand. I got more and more excited, rather than calmer as I had intended. But why shouldn't I, came the thought. It had been so beautiful, why not partake of it? How could I know, or be sure that it was bad?

It was so hard when I didn't know anything. And when I had such powerful instincts in me that were against goodness. Even as I thought this I began to run my fingers along my thighs and thrill to the tingling. I shook myself violently, sat up in bed, and willed myself to be calm. I was just making new resolve to control myself against all temptation when the door opened and Gunilla came in. I had to admit my need!

Only the lamp on my dresser was on, and in the shadow near the door I could hardly believe my eyes. Gunilla was dressed in a flowing crepe skirt that came to the floor, and above it was wearing another piece of crepe wound around her, covering her to the neck. All of it was black and her face, even tanned as it was, seemed to burst into light above it. She moved soundlessly and gracefully to the center of the room, then bowed to me in a deep curtsey. Then she smiled at me.

“Welcome to The Arabian Nights again, my fine prince. The night of love awaits you, and your own houri attends your slightest wish and desire. I am again your slave. You have only to command me.” She was incredibly beautiful standing there and I could not speak. I was still a shy untutored boy, whatever I was inside. I just kept looking at her my heart full of wonder that stilled the conflict there.

“What, no commands for your houri?” she queried. “Then I must make some for you. Now what could my prince desire? Could he wish me to undress him?” I must have paled at this for she drew back. “Ah, no! He is embarrassed! I have it! I will give him the knowledge of all that he knows not!” She looked intently at me for a moment then suddenly giggled, like before, and sat down beside me on the bed.

The lamp behind her was in her hair now on one side turning it into a corona, while the other side was like molten platinum flowing over the black crepe on her shoulders. The upper part of her body was covered by the windings of cloth except for a bit at the throat which glowed in the light. Through the transparent skirt I could see the fullness of her thighs where they were compressed by her sitting on them, the line of her leg and the form of her knee.

Above was her shining face and the voice that had come from the darkness the night before. The total reality of her was before me and I drank it in. She did indeed look like one might imagine a girl from The Arabian Nights.

She giggled again, and her face came close to me, a little mocking, but also searching and friendly.

“Come, Lars, don't you want to see all the things we discovered together last night? It is one thing to feel a girl, you know, and another to see her!” She seemed to be waiting for an answer, but when none came she teased: “Think about my body, Lars! Can you imagine what it looks like now you've felt it? What my thighs are like, or my tits-or how my stomach looks, or better, how it all looks together?”

I tried to open my mouth. I was very excited and very embarrassed, trying to take it all in. “I-I'm sorry,” I stuttered, “b-but s-sure I want to know. I just…”

“You mustn't be afraid, dear! Remember that I'm your sister and everything is all right. It's just me from last night come back to ride our magic carpet again.” She moved closer to me and asked: “But, Lars, is it true what Mother said-that you never even saw pictures? That you never knew, say, that a girl had a face like mine instead of one like yours?”

“Yes, it's true, all right. They cut all pictures out of my books and all I… well knew from the descriptions in books that girls were… well… different, and I always wanted to know. But there just was no way.” I blushed furiously. “And I had no idea anything would ever… well… look like you!”

“Do you like me, Lars?” she asked raising her arms above her head and posing for me. “Do you find me… ah… attractive?”

“Gee, Nilla, I-I sure do! You're beautiful! Sort of like a miracle I guess! Uh… I just don't know what to say.” I looked at her appealingly.

“Wow! Never seen a picture even!” She was saying. “I'm glad you like me, Lars, and I want to show you everything now.” She was looking into my eyes. “But what did you really see in the living room last night? Did you see this? Or this? Or these?” She slid the crepe off her golden tan shoulders, then opened it at the sides exposing her waist, and then at the top so that I could see the cleavage of her breasts. “Here, reach in again and feel me, but then open me so you can see too… Hey, but slow, Lars! It's more exciting that way.”

I reached out my hand to the skin of her breast feeling the firm smoothness of it. My arm shook, and I stopped abashed. It was different in the light with her watching me. I drew back my hand and blushed. I couldn't look at her.

“Boy, you sure are shy,” Nilla exclaimed making me blush even more. “But you'll get used to me after you see a little, and after you get more excited.” She took both sides of the crepe still wound across her breasts and said:

“Now, lover, look at me! Do you see this? And this? And this?” She gradually pulled the black stuff down so that more and more of her swelling breasts were exposed. The contrast of their color with the black added to and inflamed my excitement. I shivered. Here was my new sister just sitting there uncovering her breasts for me, her secret temples! At last I was really going to see!

“Don't you think they're big, lover? Look at them-your first breasts. Your sister's tits, and she is unveiling them, offering them to you-to your eyes-to your hands-to your mouth! Your sister, Lars, uncovering her breasts, baring herself before you! See how they reach out for you to love them!” The cloth was almost to the end now! I stared at the growing multitude of flesh. The breasts were incredible! They swelled out from her chest like two huge, ripe melons! I watched how the light blue veins ran along the lower side of them, how the skin glowed, and the flesh rose in a rising crescendo! I became more and more excited and filled with wonder.

“Here, touch them, lover! Your first tits and they ache for you to touch them! Your little sister is giving you her tits to handle, and knead, and stroke, and fondle! Take them!” But in the light I was all shyness and couldn't. Gunilla read it in my face as I first flushed and then grew pale.

“How shy you are, Brother! You sure are cute, though! Here, give me your hand and close your eyes.” I shivered again and complied. She took both my hands and I could feel her press them to her neck, her shoulders, and to the cleavage of her breasts.

“Here are my tits, Lover. Squeeze them like you did last night. Feel them. Press your sister's tits and feel hard with your fingers. Grab and pull them toward you!” My head was dizzy, but I did as she bid. The sensation in my palms was incredible. “Now, here, underneath the crepe, do you feel my nipples? Do you remember them?” She pushed my hands beneath the cloth and I felt again the hard buds of flesh. “Now open your eyes!”

My hands had brushed the thin stuff away revealing her nipples. They looked like rose buds opening in the morning. The deep pink tip surrounded by a darker pink circle. She took my hands and rotated the palms against her nipples. The sensation was fantastic! I thought my head would burst as I kept wanting to grab and fondle them, but all the time blushing and paling. Last night, straining to see down her dress to these. Later feeling them in the dark. Now my sister's nipples were in my hands!

“Now do you see this?” she was saying, “Watch!” She took my hands and put them under the breasts, lifting them toward me as I myself had done in the dark. The nipples had grown hard as I rubbed them and were about three times their former size. I kept feeling the weight and watching how the little hole in the tip of the nipple opened as I lifted them.

“Stroke them like this, Brother. Here, hold them at the back and then draw your hand slowly forward… like that!” She drew my hand along the sides of her breasts and then my finger tips across the nipples. “See, stroke my nipple with your finger tips-now close them slightly on it-yes-s…”

She took both my hands and placed the center of the palms on her nipples. “Now, close your hands on my tits-that's it! Squeeze a little-then a bit more…” and as I complied: “Now draw your hand out, always squeezing, till your fingers reach my nipples-then back-then out again-milking me! You'll: get the idea!” I continued till I felt a tremor run over her body followed by a rising tumult in my blood and a rushing sense of power.

I met her eyes directly, always stroking. Did she sense my feeling? Her eyes glazed, her head fell back, and the power climbed and climbed in me. The realization of her vulnerability. The sudden, devastating awareness of “I!”

A little moan came from her lips. Her eyes closed. My ears were two sea shells with the roar of the world! The tension mounting and mounting. The knowledge that from here I could do anything, everything!

But I didn't know what to do and my hands fumbled. The moment fled and she opened her eyes.

Several moments passed. Then, with a strange look of wisdom she said slowly: “Yes.” A pause. Then: “Yes, little brother, I was right about you. It will take time, and you must learn… But I was right.”

She lay down on the bed beside me, stretching out like a cat. “Now explore, Lars. Remember, I'm your magic girl, and everything is yours that you can find. You explored a lot of things last night. Don't you want to see them?” She lay with her head on the pillow smiling up at me, her eyes both daring and inviting. I blushed, then met her eyes. The shyness was leaving me.

I looked down at her naked breasts, the firmness of them standing up so strong even though she was lying down. Then the slim waist, the bare, inviting stomach. I looked at the black clad torso and legs, filled with desire and curiosity. Gunilla turned, drawing her knees up and presenting them to me. I hesitated. Looked at her. Then reached for her ankle protruding slightly beneath the skirt. I ran my hand up her flesh to the knee, cupping it in my palm and stripping back the skirt with the other hand so I could see. I felt over her thigh, placed my hand on the fullness of her loins, and then withdrew it in confusion.

“Lars, think! You never saw one, and now you are privileged to just reach out and take it. Think of the darkness, the depth of it, Lars. Me. Reach out and take me!”

I reached beneath her skirt, running my hand up till it met her belly, the heel of it on her hair. I moved the heel on her, rubbing her. Nilla sighed and fell back against the pillow, opening her legs to me as she did so. With my left hand I lifted up her skirt, exposing her full loins, the round firm belly, and the golden crown of her pubic hair. I stared at it shaking as she watched me.

The hair was not so light as that on her head. It was golden yellow, and as it narrowed to a slit in the middle, the hairs darkened almost to a brown. My mouth was gaping and I shook as with a fever. I ran my hand over it just brushing the hairs, and she shivered. I looked at the abundant growth of hair straggling away from the main form between her legs. I was terribly excited. Then I covered the legs again and sat staring at her body. I was shaking. Gradually I slipped my hand back under her dress and slid it slowly up her thighs, moving it over that smooth, succulent flesh, getting closer and closer, finding myself relishing and reveling in the process, till I finally touched it again.

Something beyond me was in control now. I had been all shyness and wildness, but now only the latter possessed me. The ritual of concealment and revelation drew me on. I had my hand on it, just at the end of her thighs where the warmth grew and grew, and the tremor became almost too much for me when she slowly closed them on me, pressing my hand between them. I squeezed the hot flesh, and the perfume of her body rose to me making me dizzy. We looked at each other, but my eyes were so clouded somehow that I couldn't see.

Gradually I inched my hand higher, feeling with my fingers till I touched the first hairs, my palms on the hot, moist flesh. I heard my breath coming in gasps but I could not stop. The moisture was growing, growing. Now I felt the resistance of her crotch, now the sticky hot fluid. It was on my fingers. Between my fingers. It was coming onto my hands, over my palms. I searched higher, higher. I felt with my fingers for the lips of the fold I had discovered last night. I found it, all liquid and warm for me. I touched it, caressed it, probed into it. Gunilla gave a cry and began to twist and moan on the bed.

My fingers probed, searched, finding the hole, seeking into her while she whimpered assent. I moved my hand back and forth, faster and faster as she had taught me, rubbing sometimes on the fold and then probing deep into the hole. The clamor rose and rose in me, Everywhere was liquid, and everywhere the smell. That smell of her! Stronger. Stronger! The trembling seized me. I couldn't stand it, couldn't… just before I lost control I tossed back the skirt with my other hand revealing to me everything…

And it was all there. The secret dream I had lived for, that I had hidden even from myself. Although I had never known anything of woman, I knew, drinking in this miracle, that this is what I had longed for and dreamed of… or part of it! The light on her legs was all flesh and all golden. The frame of black crepe, like lace. In the center the bushy hair and the wonder… it was the djinn and the magic lamp, to rub it, an act of God.

I looked at my hand. The darkness of the hair at the slit where my hand lay. The smell intoxicated me. I withdrew my hand, rubbing the liquid slowly across my face, and I knew that if this was evil, I was for it! Dimly, somewhere, this was in my head; but my eyes were full only of the fantastic thing of the cunt before me, and the smell was an opiate to my strained senses. I put my head between her legs.

I lay there for several moments half fainting. The smell was powerful now, and by moving my head just slightly I was able to nudge my nose against the source of it, and to lick a little gently with my tongue. There was only the ecstasy in my head and the dreamy seeking with my mouth. Gunilla lay, gently pressing my head with her thighs.

After awhile I sat up and looked at all of her again very carefully. I felt dazed, and unreal, and full of wonder. Finally I lifted my eyes and saw her face. I was startled back to reality. This was a girl, Gunilla, a person before me. Until now it had been only the miracle, the discovery, the incredible object. It was as though Lancelot had found the Holy Grail, then suddenly discovered it was alive and real.

I opened my mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come. I just kept staring at her. Finally I reached out and touched her thigh. She smiled. The spell was broken. Gunilla put her arms around me and kissed me on the mouth. I was startled. It was my first kiss. But in a moment the taste of her lips, the pressure in the small of my back brought the dream, the excitement flowing back into me. My hands were on her, feeling the supple softness of her. Unconsciously I began to stroke. Her mouth gradually opened against mine, and her tongue ran along my upper lip, gently licking and tantalizing it. My blood leaped at the incredible sensation. Her tongue slid over my lower lip, grew more full, and ran lightly into my mouth. I shuddered. My hands ranged over her body. Her tongue pushed my lips apart, kneading its way between my teeth, and swelling up against the roof of my mouth. The tingling sensation coursing everywhere was excruciating, like pain. I tried to kiss her back, the excitement rampant in me. I opened my mouth accepting… accepting the tongue, the mouth, everything!

French horns were blowing in my brain, the tumult growing and growing with that large, succulent tongue in my virgin mouth. Her hands were on me, stroking me through my shirt, pulling it up, running over my flesh underneath. The wildness was loose in me, climbing and climbing. The desire for something which I knew I must have even though I did not know what it was. She pulled me down on the bed, kissing me with a mounting passion. Her fingers unbuttoned my shirt, undid my belt, and reached down to my fly. I was too far gone to be embarrassed now by the swelling thing she would find there. She quickly pulled down my zipper and, before I could register what was happening, was taking off my pants.

She left my mouth, bent down, and completely removed them. Then she turned me onto my stomach, pulled off my shirt, turned me over again and sprawled on top of me searching wantonly, desperately for my lips. I was out of my head and helpless. I felt her fumbling, squirming out of her skirt, and then pressing her body against me. I was against her naked flesh in my shorts. She writhed and squirmed, thrusting her tongue in my mouth, sending shivering pain through my body. I rubbed my loins blindly against her.

Now her hands were seeking again, reaching down inside my shorts, and running over my belly. Down each leg. Across my loins. Her arm brushed my swollen thing and I jumped, writhing and moaning against her. Her fingers were at my testicles, stroking with a soft, gentle touch, caressing and feeling them till I cried out with the ecstasy!

My hands were at her, gaining in my confusion and wildness a will of their own, feeling her heavy breasts, rubbing the nipples till they were hard as berries. Gunilla moaned, shook herself, pulled away and jerked at my shorts, then eased them off over my swollen member. Then she fell to the bed, pulling me on top of her as her body squirmed upward to my lips. Her tongue drove into me, demanding. Her hands were on me, stroking my testicles and playing over the sides of my thing which was pressed against her. I couldn't stand it. I lost all control. I became completely brazen:

“Please, please Nilla, stroke it harder, harder. My thing, I mean… give me, please, give me what I want! Give it to me!” The urgency. The incredible sensation of her against me, stroking me. The wildness prowling in my blood, and a low growling growing in my throat inexplicably.

“You want it! You want it! Yes, lover, oh, yes!” Her fingers gripped my thing and thrust it up, sliding it into her hole! I screamed. It was unbearable. The pain! The ecstasy! The howling fury of my blood! I screamed and screamed as hot flashes raged in my loins, on my thing. It was in the well of wetness, and from within a sticky moist hand was closing on it! Stroking it! Sucking and sucking and sucking it! My body writhed back and forth driving it in and out. And all the time her gripping it, milking it, devouring it! Black and red spots danced before my eyes. I was going mad. My brain was bursting, bursting. My mouth babbled incomprehensible things, as the tension mounted and mounted. Gunilla thrust a mountain of breast into my gasping mouth whispering hoarsely, demandingly:

“Suck it, Lars! Here, suck the nipple! Hard, Lars, but suck it! Suck your sister's tit while you fuck her, fuck your baby sister, Lars!” The words had no meaning but they drove me mad. I sucked and bit at her breast. Our bodies beat out a crescendo of movement, pounding at the bed. I tore away my mouth. I was insane now and screaming. Gunilla was screaming with me as we burst together with the din of exploding cellos.