quickened when Lisa mentioned the invitation. “If I can find the time.”
At this Lisa rebelled. “Henry, what has gotten into you?” she cried. “Who are you trying to fool? I have eyes, I saw how you were looking at her. If you're not in love, then I renounce all hope of anyone ever falling in love with me!” As he did not immediately respond, she went on, her passion rising. “Why do you pretend to me, Hen? We . . . you used to tell me everything. Why do you hide from me now? Anyway, you can't—I know you too well. I know you're troubled, and I understand, believe me, I do, but . . .” She stepped close to him and put her hands upon his chest. “If you'd just follow your true feelings, just listen to what your heart tells you. You think I don't know what you feel like in there, but I do. You love her, Hen, you can't hide it. Your heart is so full of her that I can feel it with my hands. You loved her the minute you saw her, and now you love her even more, much more . . . you love her so much you . . .” Lisa was close to tears. Her emotion, however, made him calmer, and he put his arms around her.
“You're the one I love,’ he said, stroking her and kissing her on the forehead.
“You're silly,” she remonstrated, but she smiled with pleasure and let her head rest against his neck. “Silly Hen, you're just an old silly.” Then her voice became serious again. “Go see her, Hen. Go tomorrow.”
31
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(The Nagasaki ms.)
Creighton was an hour and a half's ride away. To economize on time—for I still had more business than I could attend to in the week remaining to me—I decided to see Marika in the morning and Kate in the afternoon, even though the thought did not make me feel entirely comfortable. Setting out at daybreak, I arrived in the little resort town shortly after eight, but to avoid the risk of being seen by Kate, I waited until almost nine-thirty to approach the house. Marika greeted me with a quiet, enigmatic smile. She did not kiss me but, taking me by the hand, led me straight to her room under the roof.
The stairs leading to the attic were narrow and steep. I was guided up by her callipygian sway, obscenely lovely and so close that by leaning forward I could have buried my face in the pert jouncing cheeks. Breathless more from arousal than exertion, I put my arms around her as soon as we reached the top. My hands cupped her breasts as I kissed the nape of her neck, and my desire pushed out at her as if wanting to pierce the layers of material in the way. Half scuffling, half embracing, we got through the door and to the bed.
Her large hazel eyes seemed pensive, almost melancholic, and I was disappointed not to find in them the lubricity that had tuned me once to such a pitch of desire. Her lips, too, lacked fire.My passion, however, needed no stoking; heedless and feverish, I woed her with ravening kisses. In my hunger for a union so cruelly postponed, I fumbled to raise her skirt. To this she made no opposition, less still to the caresses I lavished on her uncovered parts; but it was not long before she turned her mouth away. “Down there,” she said in a clear unemotional voice, and to confirm her wishes gave me a gentle but unequivocal push. I let my head roll down between her breasts and further until the Mount of Venus jostled my cheek. As I groped to clear away the skirt bunched high around her thighs, she suddenly twisted over on her stomach and tucked in her knees. The skirt, swept up toward the waist, exposed her thighs and buttocks; there was no mistaking what I was being offered. The initial shock, as so often, became a deep thrill, and charmed by her sighs of pleasure, I discovered the flavor of love in the tangy, slightly bitter taste on my tongue. I soon began to tire, but she urged on my flagging efforts. Just when I thought I could no longer hold out, she rolled over. Across the length of her body our eyes met. Hers were dark and misty. Unable to wait
At this Lisa rebelled. “Henry, what has gotten into you?” she cried. “Who are you trying to fool? I have eyes, I saw how you were looking at her. If you're not in love, then I renounce all hope of anyone ever falling in love with me!” As he did not immediately respond, she went on, her passion rising. “Why do you pretend to me, Hen? We . . . you used to tell me everything. Why do you hide from me now? Anyway, you can't—I know you too well. I know you're troubled, and I understand, believe me, I do, but . . .” She stepped close to him and put her hands upon his chest. “If you'd just follow your true feelings, just listen to what your heart tells you. You think I don't know what you feel like in there, but I do. You love her, Hen, you can't hide it. Your heart is so full of her that I can feel it with my hands. You loved her the minute you saw her, and now you love her even more, much more . . . you love her so much you . . .” Lisa was close to tears. Her emotion, however, made him calmer, and he put his arms around her.
“You're the one I love,’ he said, stroking her and kissing her on the forehead.
“You're silly,” she remonstrated, but she smiled with pleasure and let her head rest against his neck. “Silly Hen, you're just an old silly.” Then her voice became serious again. “Go see her, Hen. Go tomorrow.”
31
----
----
----
----
(The Nagasaki ms.)
Creighton was an hour and a half's ride away. To economize on time—for I still had more business than I could attend to in the week remaining to me—I decided to see Marika in the morning and Kate in the afternoon, even though the thought did not make me feel entirely comfortable. Setting out at daybreak, I arrived in the little resort town shortly after eight, but to avoid the risk of being seen by Kate, I waited until almost nine-thirty to approach the house. Marika greeted me with a quiet, enigmatic smile. She did not kiss me but, taking me by the hand, led me straight to her room under the roof.
The stairs leading to the attic were narrow and steep. I was guided up by her callipygian sway, obscenely lovely and so close that by leaning forward I could have buried my face in the pert jouncing cheeks. Breathless more from arousal than exertion, I put my arms around her as soon as we reached the top. My hands cupped her breasts as I kissed the nape of her neck, and my desire pushed out at her as if wanting to pierce the layers of material in the way. Half scuffling, half embracing, we got through the door and to the bed.
Her large hazel eyes seemed pensive, almost melancholic, and I was disappointed not to find in them the lubricity that had tuned me once to such a pitch of desire. Her lips, too, lacked fire.My passion, however, needed no stoking; heedless and feverish, I woed her with ravening kisses. In my hunger for a union so cruelly postponed, I fumbled to raise her skirt. To this she made no opposition, less still to the caresses I lavished on her uncovered parts; but it was not long before she turned her mouth away. “Down there,” she said in a clear unemotional voice, and to confirm her wishes gave me a gentle but unequivocal push. I let my head roll down between her breasts and further until the Mount of Venus jostled my cheek. As I groped to clear away the skirt bunched high around her thighs, she suddenly twisted over on her stomach and tucked in her knees. The skirt, swept up toward the waist, exposed her thighs and buttocks; there was no mistaking what I was being offered. The initial shock, as so often, became a deep thrill, and charmed by her sighs of pleasure, I discovered the flavor of love in the tangy, slightly bitter taste on my tongue. I soon began to tire, but she urged on my flagging efforts. Just when I thought I could no longer hold out, she rolled over. Across the length of her body our eyes met. Hers were dark and misty. Unable to wait
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