For an instant a veil was torn off from between our eyes and we met directly-looked directly into each other. She started to speak. In my blood was the death struggle of mating minks. The scream. I dropped my eyes. I was on my hands and knees frankly looking under her dress. I felt an impulse to crawl forward. Did I dare? Could I? What would happen? Just before I decided there was a blur of flesh and silk and whites. Her legs closed and her skirt was pulled down.
“It’s wrong, Lars. I am your mother. I must think! I must!”
She got up and hurried out.
It is not easy to describe the insane excitement. Everything lent to it: the abnormality, the ambiguity, the permissiveness (with the restraint!) the raw act of seeing, the terror (yes- that too). I still didn’t know whether it had been my last chance. Tomorrow I might be sent back to the gray orphanage. But over all there was still an incredible sense of corruption and real power. As I remained there a moment, on my hands and knees, I knew that I had found my vocation no matter what happened. I knew the feast that my life was to be. A steady joy filled me like French horns. And always I would have that sight of Mother in me.
Chapter Nine
I went out and walked around the house. And again. Several times.
But I couldn’t calm down. How do you get calm after all that? I walked with the image of her looming in my stomach, aching in my groin. The things she had said were serpents squeezing my brain till the dizziness and the ringing were absolute. I had to have more! Had to! Even a little piece of her would do, but I had to have it. I went in and started up the stairs. I would go to her room and get something-a stocking, a brassiere, a pair of panties-then lie with it in my bed. Sure she was my mother and it was wrong, but I had to have it!
As I went up, I heard her talking to Gunilla in the living room. I was safe. I went to her door and paused a moment. Did I dare? Yes… I opened and went in.
For the second time I had entered paradise. The silk everywhere. The whiteness. The sense of woman. Of luxury. I remembered the bureau where she kept her underwear and stockings. The top drawer was handkerchiefs and lace. The second had panties and stockings. Thousands. Pink panties, violet, black ones. And white, white. I plunged my arms in until my face was buried in the silk. It was the flesh of goddesses. And their smell. It was the stuff of angels. Moon-cloth, and the smell of twilight in heaven.
I took a black pair and a white, started to close the drawer. Then I heard voices outside in the hall. Coming to the door. I was trapped. I whirled. Across the room was a closet. I dashed to it soundlessly on the thick rug, entered, and closed the door to a crack. I had barely concealed myself among the coats and dresses when the door to the room opened and Mother and Gunilla entered.
“Come in, dear,” Mother was saying. “I have some things that may help. You can try them on and see.”
“Mainly what I need is a bra that gives me better support,” Gunilla said, “and a black slip to go with my new dress.” She stood in the middle of the room by the end of the bed while Mother passed out of my view towards the bureau.
“Funny, this drawer is open. Annie must learn to tidy the rooms better.” I could hear Mother close the drawer and open another. “The trouble is that your breasts are getting larger than mine now and I fear none of these will fit you. Take off your blouse and we’ll see, but I really think I must go to town and order some for you that fit.” She came back into my range of vision carrying several brassieres and smiling lovingly at Gunilla. She put the brassieres on the bed and selected one, which she held to the light, turning to the window. Both their backs were towards me, so I carefully pushed the door open a little more. I wanted very much to be able to see. The scene which was developing promised to be interesting. Little did I know…
Mother turned to Gunilla, but she had not taken off the blouse, was just standing there embarrassed.
“Why, Gunilla, what’s the matter?”
“Well, uh, I’m not wearing a bra, Mother.”
“That’s pretty obvious, dear. With breasts as big as yours, pushing out that blouse, and with your nipples sticking up like that, anybody could tell that you aren’t even wearing a slip.” (As she said this, she reached out and touched Gunilla’s nipple to emphasize her point. Gunilla seemed to shudder slightly.) “And look how they’re growing now!” (She caressed delicately at the nipples with the tips of her fingers as they visibly grew and fattened. Gunilla shuddered again and closed her eyes. Mother began to stroke softly at the whole breast as she continued in a low voice!)
“You haven’t had a brassiere on since Lars came, Nilla. Don’t you realize that built like you are, your breasts bounce every time you move? Don’t you think that might upset your brother?”
(Gunilla’s voice was dreamy and far.) “He likes it.”
“What.”
(Gunilla’s eyes opened in panic, realizing what she’d said. She began to blush and stammer.)
“That is, I mean, that probably he doesn’t mind. That is, since he doesn’t know about girls, maybe it’s all right. I mean, maybe he doesn’t know about breasts…”
“It’s all right, Nilla. Just relax. Just let me get this blouse unbuttoned.” (Her voice was very soothing, as though she wanted to lull Gunilla back to what she had been. She undid the blouse. Gunilla was obviously confused. She tried several times to say something but Mother just reached inside and began stroking her bare breasts.)
“There, there. It’s all right, Nilla. You don’t have to hide things from your mother. You know that I don’t criticize you. It’s all right.” (Stroking, stroking. Gunilla’s eyes closed again.) “I know you’re just Mother’s little animal. Her little sweet animal who probably has already been visiting the new little brother. It’s all right, darling.” (She stroked and stroked. The blouse had worked open so that I could see the magnificent breasts with Mother’s long fingers fondling the skin which glimmered in the late afternoon light. It was wild seeing Mother play with Gunilla.)
“Now just let me get your blouse off, dear.” (It slid off Gunilla’s shoulders and down her arms and dropped to the rug. Her torso was magnificent. The fresh, perfect flesh gleamed in the subdued light. The memory of what was inside that thin cloth opened in me. The memory of what I had done to that flesh, the ultimate intimacy I had been allowed to with those breasts seemed even more exciting now that I saw it locked away from me in that cloth which decency required. Somehow, I was more aware of the privilege I’d known now seeing her from a distance. It seemed almost impossible. It was the same when I looked at Mother and thought of her sprawled in the living room. I said carefully to myself: inside there are Gunilla’s. fat nipples which I have sucked, and which she will give me any time I want. It seemed unbelievable.)
“Now you’re getting all quiet and passive like I remember you, aren’t you, Nilla. I love it when you get like this and put yourself completely into your Mother’s hands. Let’s just get this skirt out of the way. And this pretty half slip.” (Gunilla soon was standing there in only her pants. The full softness of her filled the room! Her beautiful hair on the smooth, soft shoulders. The round, rich arms hanging limply. The great breasts rising and falling as her breath quickened with her ever growing excitement. Her narrow waist and full hips. The long, beautiful, bare legs. There was only the black pants left.) “And the pants, too, so Mother can see what a big girl her Nilla has grown into. Why, Nilla, you’re all wet.” (Mother slid her fingers under the elastic, and being careful, lowered them half way down Gunilla’s thighs. There was the beautiful golden cunt. How beautiful she was standing there all fine and curving with her eyes closed. But also how fantastically exciting with her pants pulled only half off, and with Mother stroking Gunilla’s cunt.) “You’ve become such a big girl, Nilla. Such a glorious fur you have. So much of it now. And I suppose you aren’t a little virgin like you were, are you, my little animal. Let me just see.” (Gunilla, without opening her eyes, spread her thighs enough to let Mother’s fingers find what they were looking for.) “No, you’ve changed a little since we used to play together, Nilla. Do you remember those times, sweet? But probably you were too young.” Her fingers worked more fully into Gunilla.
“I remember so well, Mother. It was so beautiful. The most beautiful thing of my whole life.” The voice seemed to come out of a dream-drowsy and far away.
“Would you like us to play a little now, Nilla? Just a little to show how much I still love you?”
“I would like that more than anything in the whole world, Mother. If we only could. Could we please, Mother? Just a little?”
“Just let me close the door, darling, so that we won’t be interrupted.” Mother turned to go to the door. I
