Eagle in the Sky - Smith Wilbur - Страница 52
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before almost the colour of her eyes, she must have spent many hours
each day in the sun. Suddenly and unaffectedly she threw her towel down
and adjusted the top of her brief costume, pulling open the thin fabric
and cupping one fat breast in her hand to settle it more comfort ably,
David felt his need for her so strongly that it seemed he could not
contain it all within the physical bounds of his chest. He moved
slightly and the gravel crunched softly under his shoes.
Instantly the lovely head turned towards him and froze in the attitude
of listening. The eyes were wide open, intelligent and expressive, they
seemed to look slightly to one side of him, and David had a powerful
impulse to turn and glance behind him, following their steady gaze.
David? she asked softly. is that you David? He tried to answer her,
but his voice failed him and his reply was a small choking sound. She
ran to him, swiftly and long-legged as a roused foal, with her arms
reaching out and her face lighting with joy.
He caught her up, and she clung to him fiercely, almost angrily, as
though she had been too long denied.
I've missed you, David. Her voice was fierce also. Oh, God, you'll
never know how I have missed you, and she pressed her mouth to the stark
gash in his mask of flesh.
This was the first human being who had treated him without reserve,
without pity or revulsion, in all those months, and David felt his heart
swell harder and his embrace was as fierce as hers.
She broke at last, leaning back to press her hips unashamedly against
his, exulting in the hard thrustingness of his arousal, proud to have
evoked it, and quickly, questioningly she ran her hands over his face,
feeling the new contours and the unexpected planes and angles.
She felt him begin to pull away, but she stopped him and continued her
examination.
My fingers tell me that you are still, beautiful You have lying fingers,
he whispered, but she ignored his words, and pushed forward teasingly
with her hips.
, And I'm getting another very powerful message from further south. She
gave a breathless little laugh. Come with me, please, sir. Holding his
hand, she ran lightly up the steps, dragging him after her. He was
amazed at the agility and confidence with which she negotiated the
climb. She drew him into the cottage and as he looked about him,
quickly taking it all in, she closed and bolted the door.
Immediately the room was cool and dim and intimate.
On the bed her body was still damp and cold from the lake, but her lips
were hot as she strained against him urgently. The two beautiful young
bodies meshed hungrily, almost as if they were attempting to find
sanctuary within each other, desperately flesh sought haven within
flesh, within each other's encircling arms and legs they searched for
and found surcease from the loneliness and the darkness.
The physical act of love, no matter how often repeated, was insufficient
for their needs; even in the intervals between they clung desperately to
each other; sleeping pressed together, they groped drowsily but
anxiously for each other if the movements of sleep separated them for
even an instant. They talked holding hands, she reaching up to touch
his face at intervals, he staring into her golden eyes. Even when she
prepared their simple meals, he stood close beside or behind her so that
she could sway against him and feel him there. It was as though they
lived in momentary dread of being once more separated.
It was two days before they left the sanctuary of the cottage and walked
together along the lake shore or swam from the jetty and lay in the warm
sun. But even when Ella looked down at them from the terrace and waved,
David asked, Shall we go up to her? No, Debra answered quickly.
Not yet. I'm not ready to share you with anybody else yet. Just a
little while more, please, David. And it was another three days before
they climbed the path to the studio. Ella had laid on one of her
gargantuan lunches, but she had invited no other guests and they were
grateful to her for that.
I thought I'd have to send down a party of stretcherbearers to carry you
up, Davey, Ella greeted him, with a lecherous chuckle.
Don't be crude, Ella, Debra told her primly, flushing to a dark rose
brown, and Ella let fly with one of her explosive bursts of mirth that
was so contagious they must follow it.
They sat beneath the palm trees and drank wine from the earthenware
jugs, and ate hugely, laughing and talking without restraint, David and
Debra so involved with each other that they were not aware of Ella's
shrewdly veiled appraisal.
The change in Debra was dramatic, all the coolness and reserve were gone
now, the armour in which she had clad her emotions was stripped away.
She was vital and eager and blooming with love.
She sat close beside David, laughing with delight at his sallies, and
leaning to touch and caress him, as though to reassure herself of his
presence.
Ella glanced again at David, trying to smile naturally at him, but
guiltily aware of the sneaking sensation of repulsion she still felt
repulsion and aching pity when she looked at that monstrous head. She
knew that if she saw it every day for twenty years, it would still
disturb her.
Debra laughed again at something David had said and turned her face to
him, offering her mouth with a touching innocence.
What a terrible thing to say, she laughed. I think a gesture of
contrition is called for, and responded eagerly as the great ravaged
head bent to her and the thin slit of a mouth touched hers.
it was disquieting to see the lovely dark face against that mask of
ruined flesh, and yet it was also strangely moving.
it was the right thing. For once I did the right thing, Ella decided,
watching them, and feeling a vague envy.
These two were bound together completely, made strong by their separate
afflictions. Before it had been a mutual itching of the flesh, a chance
spark struck from two minds meeting, but now it was something that
transcended that.
Ella recalled regretfully a long line of lovers stretching back to the
shadowy edges of her memory, receding images which seemed unreal now. if
only there had been something to bind her to one of those, if only she
had been left with something more valuable than half remembered words
and faded memories of brief mountings and furtive couplings. She
sighed, and they looked at her questioning A sad sound, Ella, darling,
Debra said. We are selfish, please forgive us. Not sad, my children,
Ella denied hotly, scattering the old phantoms of her memory. I am
happy for you.
You have something very wonderful, strong and bright and wonderful.
Protect it as you would your life. She took up her wine glass. I give
you a toast. I give you David and Debra, and a love made invincible by
suffering. And they were serious for a moment while they drank the
toast together in golden yellow wine, sitting in golden yellow sunlight,
then the mood resumed and they were gay once more.
Once the first desperate demands of their bodies had been met, once they
had drawn as close together as physical limits would allow, then they
began a coupling of the spirit. They had never really spoken before,
even when they had shared the house on Malik Street, they had used only
the superficial word symbols.
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