She was the queen of the whores, Bijou. Yes, Bijou.
This woman's hair...it was the most sensual hair I have ever seen. Medusa must have had hair like this and with it seduced the men who fell under her spell. It was full of life, heavy, and as pungent as if it had been bathed in sperm. To me it always felt as though it had been wrapped around a penis and soaked in secretions. It was the kind of hair I wanted to wrap around my own sex. It was warm and musky, oily, strong. It was the hair of an animal. It bristled when it was touched. Merely to pass my fingers through it could give me an erection. I would have been content just touching her hair.
But it was not her hair alone. Her skin was erotic, too. She would lie for hours letting me stroke her, lie like an animal, absolutely quiet, languid...The transparence of her skin showed turquoise-blue threads interlacing her body, and I felt that I was not only touching satin but living veins, veins so alive that when I touched her skin I could feel the movement underneath. I used to like lying against her buttocks and caressing her, to feel the contractions of the muscles, which betrayed her responsiveness.
Her skin was dry like some desert sand. When we first lay in bed it was cool, and then it would become warm and feverish. Her eyes-it is impossible to describe her eyes besides saying that they were the eyes of an orgasm. What happened in her eyes was something so feverish, so incendiary, so intense that at times when I looked straight at her and felt my penis rising and palpitating, I also felt as if something were palpitating in her eyes. With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness...something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, anihilate him, with a pleasure never known before.
But it was not her hair alone. Her skin was erotic, too. She would lie for hours letting me stroke her, lie like an animal, absolutely quiet, languid...The transparence of her skin showed turquoise-blue threads interlacing her body, and I felt that I was not only touching satin but living veins, veins so alive that when I touched her skin I could feel the movement underneath. I used to like lying against her buttocks and caressing her, to feel the contractions of the muscles, which betrayed her responsiveness.
Her skin was dry like some desert sand. When we first lay in bed it was cool, and then it would become warm and feverish. Her eyes-it is impossible to describe her eyes besides saying that they were the eyes of an orgasm. What happened in her eyes was something so feverish, so incendiary, so intense that at times when I looked straight at her and felt my penis rising and palpitating, I also felt as if something were palpitating in her eyes. With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness...something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, anihilate him, with a pleasure never known before.