scurried away when he pushed the girl through the thicket.
He began to think about her. He recalled how she had stood in the shop, smiling, talking, glancing around, unaware of what she meant to him. And he remembered seeing her once on the river-bank, with a tall, handsome boy, a YM swimming champion; every time the boy had inclined his head toward her, her face had lit up with such admiration and joy that Levanter had been filled withenvy and had to look away. If she were a thing, he thought, one day he could own her.
He began to think about her body as he had thought of her all those times; he could remember the filtered rays of sun upon her corn-silk hair. The images seemed remote, yet the girl was now under him. He was preparing to sink into her with all the force of natureâs spring unwinding.
He was fully aroused. Gently, he kissed her neck. Listening to her sobs, he moved his hand down, stroking her, pushing aside the moss and leaves that stuck to her. Her body eased a bit, and when he detected that, in one smooth motion he planted his flesh in her, guiding it with his hand until it was firmly in place, deep and hard, breaking through a delicate inner barrier that seemed no thicker than a leaf. She screamed, and he thought that, without having spoken a single word to her, he had just become her first lover. The thought quickened his movement. She tensed and lay whimpering. He did not want to rush, reminding himself that as long as he was behind and inside her, pinning her down with his weight, she could not see him, and he could do as he wished for as long as he wished. But, like bark pried off a tree, his thought separated from his body; and he stiffened, ready to scream, his hand pulling her hair harder, almost against his own will. Then, his entire body seemed to let go, suddenly free of the inner pull. He collapsed, but the physical release did not bring about the release of his need. He became conscious of time and glanced at his watch: only a few minutes had passed. The girl moaned under him. He became tender, kissing the soft skin on the nape of her neck, sniffing its fluffy hair, tasting the salty sweat, his fingers lightly stroking her temples. He rested.
Then a wave of excitement came again. He felt more in command this time, less at the mercy of his flesh. She seemed to sense that her attacker was not through with her and began pleading with him to let her go. He pushed her face deeper into the earth, and when she gasped and coughed, he entered her again, more forcefully, changing the angle of pressure, feeling her resistance and steadily breaking it. When, at one moment, she tensed and he slipped out, she started to thrash. He grew impatient and angry; hespread her flat. She let out a high-pitched scream and strained to pull away from him. He remembered another of Oscarâs lessons; he slowly moved his legs, first one, then the other, until they were over her shoulders and he was sitting upon her with all his weight. As his feet forced her face harder into the ground, he thrust into her once more, but not where he had entered her the first time; her moans turned into a piercing shriek. There was something unnatural about the sound. He imagined an inner spring had snapped inside her, and even though he thought of withdrawing, he once more succumbed to his own need. His body grew taut and he pushed into her with all his might, no longer able to withdraw. He felt his neck tensing, his fingers involuntarily digging into her skin. Soon it was over; he was drained.
As she moaned, her body splayed under him like a grotesque puppet with its limbs dangling; all he wanted was to see her face. Her body alone could not tell him what he wanted to know. Only on her face would he be able to read what she felt.
Both his body and his mind were empty. Slowly he lifted himself from her, reflecting that his blind date was not over yet. He kept her pinned down with one hand, and with the other used her torn dress
He began to think about her. He recalled how she had stood in the shop, smiling, talking, glancing around, unaware of what she meant to him. And he remembered seeing her once on the river-bank, with a tall, handsome boy, a YM swimming champion; every time the boy had inclined his head toward her, her face had lit up with such admiration and joy that Levanter had been filled withenvy and had to look away. If she were a thing, he thought, one day he could own her.
He began to think about her body as he had thought of her all those times; he could remember the filtered rays of sun upon her corn-silk hair. The images seemed remote, yet the girl was now under him. He was preparing to sink into her with all the force of natureâs spring unwinding.
He was fully aroused. Gently, he kissed her neck. Listening to her sobs, he moved his hand down, stroking her, pushing aside the moss and leaves that stuck to her. Her body eased a bit, and when he detected that, in one smooth motion he planted his flesh in her, guiding it with his hand until it was firmly in place, deep and hard, breaking through a delicate inner barrier that seemed no thicker than a leaf. She screamed, and he thought that, without having spoken a single word to her, he had just become her first lover. The thought quickened his movement. She tensed and lay whimpering. He did not want to rush, reminding himself that as long as he was behind and inside her, pinning her down with his weight, she could not see him, and he could do as he wished for as long as he wished. But, like bark pried off a tree, his thought separated from his body; and he stiffened, ready to scream, his hand pulling her hair harder, almost against his own will. Then, his entire body seemed to let go, suddenly free of the inner pull. He collapsed, but the physical release did not bring about the release of his need. He became conscious of time and glanced at his watch: only a few minutes had passed. The girl moaned under him. He became tender, kissing the soft skin on the nape of her neck, sniffing its fluffy hair, tasting the salty sweat, his fingers lightly stroking her temples. He rested.
Then a wave of excitement came again. He felt more in command this time, less at the mercy of his flesh. She seemed to sense that her attacker was not through with her and began pleading with him to let her go. He pushed her face deeper into the earth, and when she gasped and coughed, he entered her again, more forcefully, changing the angle of pressure, feeling her resistance and steadily breaking it. When, at one moment, she tensed and he slipped out, she started to thrash. He grew impatient and angry; hespread her flat. She let out a high-pitched scream and strained to pull away from him. He remembered another of Oscarâs lessons; he slowly moved his legs, first one, then the other, until they were over her shoulders and he was sitting upon her with all his weight. As his feet forced her face harder into the ground, he thrust into her once more, but not where he had entered her the first time; her moans turned into a piercing shriek. There was something unnatural about the sound. He imagined an inner spring had snapped inside her, and even though he thought of withdrawing, he once more succumbed to his own need. His body grew taut and he pushed into her with all his might, no longer able to withdraw. He felt his neck tensing, his fingers involuntarily digging into her skin. Soon it was over; he was drained.
As she moaned, her body splayed under him like a grotesque puppet with its limbs dangling; all he wanted was to see her face. Her body alone could not tell him what he wanted to know. Only on her face would he be able to read what she felt.
Both his body and his mind were empty. Slowly he lifted himself from her, reflecting that his blind date was not over yet. He kept her pinned down with one hand, and with the other used her torn dress
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