Taxi to Paris Page 21

  "Most people don't know that." She laughed sensually.

  I concentrated on her navel again. First, I traced its edge with my tongue; then, I wandered slowly inside.

  She shuddered. "That's not exactly unerotic, either," she gasped.

  "In this position, everything is erotic." One could certainly say that.

  She sighed with satisfaction and dove into the backs of my knees once more before working her way back up my inner thighs. I held her hips tightly so she couldn't slip too far up. I wanted her most sensitive places well within reach of my tongue. I felt her coming nearer and nearer to my favorite spot. I let my lips wander across her mound. She moaned and tried to escape my mouth. I held her still.

  "You needn't...," she objected nervously.

  "Mm-hmm," I murmured with my mouth already halfway between her legs. Then I pulled away for one last moment. "I always do a 69 so that only one partner gets something out of it."

  "I just meant that..." Always such a discussion when she was afraid she might get something out of it!

  I pushed my tongue over her mound of Venus. "Come on," I whispered excitedly. "Don't talk so much."

  Her bottom tensed as I got closer to her center. She did the same to me. I tried to hold my legs still, but I couldn't. She couldn't control her hips any longer, either. I felt the tip of her tongue at my gate. We entered one another at the same time. I felt how her moaning reverberated through my whole body. She must have felt the same thing. I wasn't exactly quiet myself.

  Her tongue inside of me was at least as arousing as it was to taste her at the same time. I concentrated on her. After awhile, I couldn't any longer. I had to concentrate on myself. She halted her caresses. "Not again!" I moaned torturously.

  "No." She laughed softly. Her sensuous voice drove me up another level. She entered me again. This time, she stroked deeper with her tongue. I could barely even move anymore, I was so completely aroused. I couldn't get enough air. Suddenly, a flood of feelings overcame me. I didn't even feel them coming. I didn't have enough breath left to cry out, but I had to. I couldn't take it anymore. She caressed me with her tongue, refusing to let me rest. "Stop," I groaned. "I can't take anymore."

  She stopped long enough to say something. I collapsed. "I'll stop at two dozen. Understood?"

  She began to suck on my clit. I exploded immediately. "Oh, no!"

  "Oh, yes," she replied, laughing. "You're halfway there already."

  I surrendered. When she wanted to, she could really be more than demanding. I moaned again. As long as the exertion felt like this...!

  I didn't count, but eventually I got to two dozen or she was otherwise satisfied. I collapsed as if I'd just run a marathon. She lay still and snuggled her head between my legs. It still tickled sweetly.

  There was one thing I definitely wasn't going to do for her now: fall asleep! I rested for a minute, then I remembered her belly in front of my face. I ran my lips over it. She jumped. "What are you doing down there?"

  "Guess," I replied cheekily.

  "You're exhausted." Her voice sounded sweetly concerned.

  "You'd like that, eh?" She couldn't have expected that, after her treatment, I would only be able to move my tongue. But I could! I didn't even wait for her to recover from her surprise. I pushed my tongue between her legs and listened to her moan. "How many would you like?" Revenge is sweet! "Three dozen?"

  "No!" She dug into my thigh.

  "We'll see." I played around with the idea of never letting her come down from her orgasm. At first, it seemed that she wanted me to try to talk her into it at least, but then she parted her legs and gave herself over to me. She moaned without interruption. I couldn't have counted even if I'd wanted to. She seemed to be up on a plateau the whole time.

  She beseeched me, "Let me ... please..." Her voice was barely audible. I stopped soon after. She thought it was over. I waited a few moments. Then I entered her again and stroked her back to the top with my tongue. She moaned. "Darling!" That's what I wanted to hear! I let her go and snuggled up to her lap, like she had done with me. We fell asleep just like that.

  Chapter 24

  I packed my things. She stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms and watching me with an expressionless face. I wished with everything I had that I were already on the road. At the same time, I wanted to put off the separation as long as possible.

  Finally, I was finished. I looked at her. I could've bawled. There was no reason for this. We both wanted each other. Nonetheless, we had no choice. Despite her motionless face, I could feel the tension in her as though it were my own.

  I went to the door. I didn't dare touch her anymore. That would push me over the edge. I opened the door. She came after me, first hesitantly, then with long, fast steps. She took me in her arms. I stood there, desiring nothing else.

  "Stay with me," she whispered, choking on her tears.

  I let my suitcase fall and hugged her back. I pressed myself against her, wanting to feel her one last time. "I can't." I spoke into her shoulder. I smelled her. I could almost taste her. I wanted her more than anything in the world. I tore myself away, grabbed my bag, and ran down the stairs. Tears poured down my face. I didn't look back.

  The drive home went by as though I were in a trance. I pulled onto the turnpike, paid the toll, and drove on. I grew calmer with every mile I put between us.

  I'd found the love of my life and lost her again. No big deal, right? Happens to everyone! I couldn't kid myself. I knew I'd never experience anything like this again. It would always be my happiest, and at the same time my saddest, memory.

  After I arrived, the first thing I did was unplug my telephone. I didn't want to see or speak to anyone. I unpacked my bag, put my laundry in the washing machine, and gathered up the mail that had already begun to overflow from my mailbox onto the landing. The ordinariness of these activities allowed me a few minutes of rest.

  I drew myself a bath and lay in the hot water. That had always been relaxing and calming for me. One of my favorite activities. The physical relaxation did come. But when I tried to empty my head, as usual, I found far too many thoughts. No, there was only one thought: her.

  I remembered how she'd lain in the bathtub in Paris. About how I'd felt seeing her there. In addition to the heat of the water warming me from the outside, I began to feel a new heat growing inside. That would pass. In time... I would get to know other women, I'd sleep with them, they'd chase the memories away. Maybe I'd live with one of them. That was my future, not her. Perhaps I'd remain alone instead. That situation seemed the most desirable to me at the moment. If I couldn't have her, the difference didn't seem that great.

  And sex? You nasty little drive! Can't you leave me in peace! Do you think that all your wishes just come true like that?

  No. No, of course not. But what could follow her? Sex with her was an unbelievable experience. I couldn't get that memory out of my mind. I imagined I was feeling her hands against my skin. I sighed. The stirring in my belly was so real, as was the tingling of my skin. I rubbed the spot with my hand to make it go away. I shouldn't have done that!

  The gentle caresses of the warm bathwater increased my sensitivity a little more. I needed it even more. I saw her face before me, her lips parting slowly. I yearned for her to come to me. I pretended she was there, her hands gliding through the water between my legs. I closed my eyes. I knew it wasn't her, but I summoned up all of my fantasies to imagine that it was a different hand - hers - that stroked me. I moaned as the sensations flowed over me. I didn't need to command my hands. They worked by themselves. They danced across my breasts. In the water, my nipples stood up quickly. A red-hot arrow of desire shot up between my legs. I let one hand glide downward. I saw her bending over me. As I touched myself, she touched me. I moaned her name. I couldn't stop. I wanted to summon her presence somehow. I slid deeper down in the tub and writhed with arousal. Water splashed over the sides. My strokes grew faster. I tightened and moaned alou
d. "My darling." I let my hand lie between my legs, savoring the feeling a little. I lay deep in the water. I almost fell asleep. I opened my eyes. I pulled my hand away. With my eyes open, it was only my hand. And this was nothing more than masturbation.

  Was this it? Was this my future? It had never bothered me before. I'd always enjoyed it, when I was alone and had the inclination. It didn't matter if I had a girlfriend at the time or not. But now the prospect seemed entirely shallow.

  I would just have to get used to it.

  Chapter 25

  I became a hermit again for awhile, compensating for my frustration with work. But this time it was different. I knew it was over. There was no going back. I wasn't angry at her or at myself. We hadn't broken up with a fight. I was simply numb.

  I laughed when someone told me a joke. I scolded my colleagues when they made poor management decisions. I swore out loud when a project didn't turn out as I'd planned. But really, none of that affected me. My emotions seemed to be locked up in a little box. Between me and the outside world there was an unscalable, impenetrable wall. Perhaps not such a bad thing. My head and my body felt like they were packed in styrofoam most of the time.

  Evenings, when I came home, I cleaned my apartment automatically. It had never been so neat. Everything was in its place. No book lay askew; I had no dirty laundry; no CD was left out of its case or in the player.

  I didn't read, I didn't listen to music. When I'd put away my groceries and my dust cloth, I just sat there until I got sleepy. Then I went to bed and slept without dreaming. I had no doubt that I would go on like this forever, but I didn't even feel the need to wish for something better. Life was simply dreary. Hadn't it always been that way?

  A few days after my return, I thought about her suddenly. Would she be back by now? The probability seemed great. But what did that mean? I let that thought fall into a black pit and bolted the door behind it.

  Another few days later, I was sitting in my office, grumbling over a project report. The telephone rang. I picked it up and said absently, "Yes?"

  "I can't do it anymore," she said.

  I sat up stick-straight in my chair. "Don't!" I whispered defensively.

  Her voice sounded choked. "I long for you so much. I can't sleep. And I can't... I have to see you!"

  "That's not possible," I said. "That would only make it worse." I felt it already. My wall had collapsed with one blow.

  "It can't be any worse than it already is," she said tiredly.

  "Yes, it can," I squeaked with iron will. I would have liked most to rush over to her. "Please, don't call me again. We're only tormenting each other this way." I hung up without waiting for her reply.

  I took a long time to recover from that phone call. The afternoon passed me by. Toward evening, I had convinced myself that everything was all right again. She wouldn't call me anymore. That wasn't her style. She would have to live with it just like I did.

  I went shopping and then home. When I arrived there, I saw her sitting on the steps in front of my apartment. I wanted to turn around, groceries in one hand and keys in the other, but where was I supposed to go? I climbed the last flight of stairs. She stood up. Two steps above me, she was more than half a body's length taller.

  I looked up at her. "There's no point to this," I told her feebly.

  "Please." She didn't speak, she begged.

  I walked past her and unlocked the door. She didn't move. I turned around and looked at her. "Come in," I sighed. "At your own risk."

  She followed me in and shut the door behind her. I went into the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" I called back into the hall as I put the kettle on. "Now that you're already here."

  She came over and stood in the entryway to the kitchen. The doorway framed her like a portrait. She didn't seem to want to answer.

  I indicated to the rocking chair. "Please, have a seat. I can't stand to have you milling around like that." My nerves were already exposed. I held my equilibrium by a thread, maintaining it only through the mundane task of making coffee.

  She did what I told her. I tried to act as though this were a completely normal visit. I sat across from her, with the table between us. I could already tell that this distance would not suffice for long. Her charm was already putting a spell on me.

  "Where is this supposed to lead?" I asked, as calmly as I could manage.

  She hung her head, and her voice was barely audible. "I don't know." She looked up. For a moment, I thought I saw tears in her eyes, they were so red and blurry. "I only know that I need you." Need, not love. Even now, she was incapable of speaking it aloud.

  I propped my chin up with my hands. "You know that won't work. We'd drive each other insane."

  "And what are we doing now?" She had a strong point, although her voice still sounded weak.

  We had certainly come to the same conclusion in our estimations of the situation. I had to agree with her there. "Yes, you're right. But that will pass. We just have to give it time."

  "How long, do you think?" Was she trying to convince me or herself? How long would it take until we were so numb that we no longer felt any desire? Until, perhaps, we felt nothing at all?

  "How should I know?" Abysmal desperation overcame me.

  "I've missed you so much." The tenderness in her voice rendered me defenseless.

  I buried my head deeper in my hands. "Please," I begged her. "Don't do this!"

  She got up and came over to me. "No," I said. She stood behind my chair and leaned forward. Her hands slid over my arms. On my back, I could feel her breasts. She sighed.

  "It's so nice to feel you," she whispered in my ear.

  I pushed my yearning back. "We mustn't do this. Then everything will start over again from the beginning."

  "Not from the beginning," she corrected. "From now."

  "What's the difference?" I asked, resigned.

  She said nothing. Her hands glided over my belly and unbuttoned my pants. I leaned back. "Don't," I pleaded. "Be practical."

  "I am being practical," she whispered. "What's impractical about this?" She kissed me on the neck.

  I moaned. "Everything. Absolutely everything about this is impractical."

  She kissed me again. Her tongue traced the hollow between my neck and collarbone. I almost melted. I wanted to, I wanted her so much!

  "I don't want to!" I leapt up. "I don't want to go through all of that again!"

  I'd thrown her backwards by jumping up like that. She had to fight for her balance. I turned away from her. She came back to me and hugged me from behind. I stiffened my body, trying to resist her. But that was useless.

  She caressed me with her voice, like she could so wonderfully well. "Don't think so much." She talked to me like to a sick animal. "Just let go." Now she began to caress me with her hands as well. She unzipped my pants.

  I let her do it. "What are you doing down there?" I whispered with the last of my strength.

  She laughed softly. "What do you think?" Her hand caressed my belly under the cloth.

  I melted. "Please," I pleaded, however. "Think about this first!" I leaned against her. I couldn't say anything more. She pulled my pants down over my hips with both hands. When that obstacle was out of the way, she put her hands on my thighs and began to work her way toward the center. I thrust my hips toward her. She shoved both hands between my legs. My knees went weak. I raised my arms and wrapped them around her neck. My body was strung like a bow. I could tell I wasn't going to last like this very long. "I can't," I gasped with great effort. "Not standing up like this."

  She didn't bother herself with my objections. "I'll hold you up." Her gentle reassurance lulled me momentarily into a sense of security. Her one hand stayed where it was; the other climbed up my thigh and between my legs from behind. She began to stroke me. From both sides.

  I moaned. "Holy heaven!" She didn't let that disturb her. Why did I have to bear this standing up? There had to be more comfortable alternatives! Her caresses w
ould have robbed me of my senses in any case. I moaned again. While she continued in front, she entered between my legs from behind. I didn't find that particularly comfortable. "Stop it," I commanded. "I don't like that."

  "You will," she stated confidently. She reached deeper inside me. Even she couldn't have fingers that long! She stretched me wider and wider.

  "You're going to hurt me," I worried nervously. "I'm too narrow."

  She continued what she was doing. "No, you're not," she whispered excitedly. "Just wait."

  She was going to rip me apart soon. This couldn't turn out well! I felt something touch me deep inside. I'd never felt anything there before. It felt like she was touching the inside of my belly. I cried out as the explosion overcame me. The tension in my groin increased the sensations to the point that they became unbearable. That was no orgasm, that was a volcanic eruption. She pulled out slowly. I collapsed. She held me up. As children, we'd played a trust game a little like that. I turned myself over to her hands.

  "Fantastic!" I gasped, exhausted.

  "And? Did it hurt?"

  "At first it was ... a little uncomfortable," I admitted truthfully. "But then ... simply unbelievable!"

  "I shouldn't have done that," she said suddenly.

  Why not? Now it was all over, and she had my approval.

  "I've never done that to a woman who's never been with men before."

  Ah, true, I'd told her that. I became mistrustful. "Those were just your fingers, weren't they?"

  "No, it was my hand." She seemed self-conscious.

  "Oh, no!" My eyes flew open in surprise. "If I'd known that!"