“It’s caught a bit on the right side, dear,” Mother was explaining. “Just pull a little more there!”
I did, and she twisted hard trying to get into it, and in the process, she fell against me. My stiff penis was tight against her leg, and my hands closed on her stomach trying to steady her! Only by fiercely biting my lip so that the blood came, did I manage to keep from coming, all over her. Then I realized that she too was trembling- quivering against me-and did I only imagine it-pressing back hard against my penis and moving on it. The inside of my head was all liquid-and she liquid against me, and somewhere a bong began to toll with louder and louder urgency.
She stayed there a moment shaking till my own shaking threatened to drop her, then her own arms free now, she bent away and helped me quickly move the dress the rest of the way over her, then turned quickly and looked at me, a wildness in her eyes.
“Thank you, dear,” she said. “This thing is so tight and is always a horror to get on. Uh-I’m sorry it was so-so hard on you. But, Lars… you must get used to having a mother, you know!” And she looked at me with those beautiful, wide, blue eyes, and I didn’t know what to say or do… so I just nodded and blushed at her.
Mother moved to the dressing table, and began her makeup. I just stood there and stared at her. Finally she seemed satisfied, and turned to me again:
“Well, Lars, I hope you really liked the things I showed you tonight.” My eyes must have popped, for she lowered hers slightly, flushed a little, and said:
“Uh… I meant your clothes, you know. Do you really think you will enjoy them?”
I guess she saw then that I was beyond speech. I stammered assurances of my appreciation of the clothes, and she accepted them. Finally she said:
“You go to bed now, darling, and please rest well for me. These clothes will do you till we can go to the tailor’s together. And like I told you before, you will get used to having a mother, in time. It is only natural that you-ah- find it embarrassing now. Remember, Lars!” And saying this she came to me, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me full on the mouth! Deep incredible softness!
I was hopelessly in love. I almost fainted. Her soft mouth went away-clinging just a little as it left. I shook, blushed, and stammered: “Thank you, Mother… good night!” And fled.
Chapter Six
I was already in my room when I remembered Gunilla. I looked at the clock on the dresser. It was ten after ten. Almost an hour. I lay down to think. One of my greatest problems in this house was that one strange and unknown experience followed another so quickly that I had no time to reflect nor to digest it. I had the feeling that I was growing and changing rapidly, but I could not be sure how or to what extent because the rush of events rarely left me time to be in touch with myself.
What had it been, for example, that I had felt tonight for Mother? Surely this at least in me was right and pure! And yet the same emotions I had felt last night for Gunilla had been with me again tonight. The same reaction to Mother as to the other. It was true. I had to face it. But how could my pure love be confused with the other? It must be in me that the ugliness lay. That was revolting.
But perhaps it was good for me. Perhaps I had to go through these things to come to deserve Mother. Or perhaps I had to learn to resist and be untempted by them to deserve her. Then I remembered little Louise and her shrine. The sudden, absolute realization of what I was! The inevitable reality.
Just as the hands approached eleven I recalled Gunilla last night, the feel of her in the dark, the gradual, incredible revelation. I remembered once more in my fingers the soft fullness of her breasts, the hardness of the nipples. How her flesh responded on her belly-the fine pubic hairs-the impossible ecstasy of tasting her. As I remembered a fine sweat broke out all over me, and once more that strange hunger in my loins came on me.
What did she look like? And would I discover this tonight? The eagerness mounting in me, overcoming the resolution to abstain, I ran my hand over my face, but the imagined image of her remained, taunting and driving me in ways I did not understand. I got more and more excited, rather than calmer as I had intended. But why shouldn’t I, came the thought. It had been so beautiful, why not partake of it? How could I know, or be sure that it was bad?
It was so hard when I didn’t know anything. And when I had such powerful instincts in me that were against goodness. Even as I thought this I began to run my fingers along my thighs and thrill to the tingling. I shook myself violently, sat up in bed, and willed myself to be calm. I was just making new resolve to control myself against all temptation when the door opened and Gunilla came in. I had to admit my need!
Only the lamp on my dresser was on, and in the shadow near the door I could hardly believe my eyes. Gunilla was dressed in a flowing crepe skirt that came to the floor, and above it was wearing another piece of crepe wound around her, covering her to the neck. All of it was black and her face, even tanned as it was, seemed to burst into light above it. She moved soundlessly and gracefully to the center of the room, then bowed to me in a deep curtsey. Then she smiled at me.
“Welcome to The Arabian Nights again, my fine prince. The night of love awaits you, and your own houri attends your slightest wish and desire. I am again your slave. You have only to command me.” She was incredibly beautiful standing there and I could not speak. I was still a shy untutored boy, whatever I was inside. I just kept looking at her my heart full of wonder that stilled the conflict there.
“What, no commands for your houri?” she queried. “Then I must make some for you. Now what could my prince desire? Could he wish me to undress him?” I must have paled at this for she drew back. “Ah, no! He is embarrassed! I have it! I will give him the knowledge of all that he knows not!” She looked intently at me for a moment then suddenly giggled, like before, and sat down beside me on the bed.
The lamp behind her was in her hair now on one side turning it into a corona, while the other side was like molten platinum flowing over the black crepe on her shoulders. The upper part of her body was covered by the windings of cloth except for a bit at the throat which glowed in the light. Through the transparent skirt I could see the fullness of her thighs where they were compressed by her sitting on them, the line of her leg and the form of her knee.
Above was her shining face and the voice that had come from the darkness the night before. The total reality of her was before me and I drank it in. She did indeed look like one might imagine a girl from The Arabian Nights.
She giggled again, and her face came close to me, a little mocking, but also searching and friendly.
“Come, Lars, don’t you want to see all the things we discovered together last night? It is one thing to feel a girl, you know, and another to see her!” She seemed to be waiting for an answer, but when none came she teased: “Think about my body, Lars! Can you imagine what it looks like now you’ve felt it? What my thighs are like, or my tits-or how my stomach looks, or better, how it all looks together?”
I tried to open my mouth. I was very excited and very embarrassed, trying to take it all in. “I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered, “b-but s-sure I want to know. I just…”
“You mustn’t be afraid, dear! Remember that I’m your sister and everything is all right. It’s just me from last night come back to ride our magic carpet again.” She moved closer to me and asked: “But, Lars, is it true what Mother said-that you never even saw pictures? That you never knew, say, that a girl had a face like mine instead of one like yours?”
“Yes, it’s true, all right. They cut all pictures out of my books and all I… well knew from the descriptions in books that girls were… well… different, and I always wanted to know. But there just was no way.” I blushed furiously. “And I had no idea anything would ever… well… look like you!”
“Do you like me, Lars?” she asked raising her arms above her head and posing for me. “Do you find me… ah… attractive?”
“Gee, Nilla, I-I sure do! You’re beautiful! Sort of like a miracle I guess! Uh… I just don’t know what to say.” I looked at her appealingly.
“Wow! Never seen a picture even!” She was saying. “I’m glad you like me, Lars, and I want to show you everything now.” She was looking into my eyes. “But what did you really see in the living room last night? Did you see this? Or this? Or these?” She slid the crepe off her golden tan shoulders, then opened it at the sides exposing her waist, and then at the top so that I could see the cleavage of her breasts. “Here, reach in again and feel me,
