Read Online Teleny or the Reverse of the Medal by Oscar Wilde, Anonymous - Free Book Online
Authors: Oscar Wilde, Anonymous
Ads: Link
that moment he was thinking of me—fondly, longingly; and then, as he did so, he got more excited, and he caught her in his arms, and hugged and kissed her with far more eagerness than he had hitherto done— nay, he began to suck her tongue as if it had been mine, and then began to thrust his own into her mouth.
After a few moments of rapture she, this time, stopped to take a breath.
'Yes, I am wrong. You love me. I see it now. You do not despise me because I am here, do you?'
'Ah! if you could only read in my heart, and see how madly I love you, darling!'
And she looked at him with longing, passionate eyes.
'Still you think me light, don't you? I am an adulteress!'
And thereupon she shuddered, and hid her face in her hands.
He looked at her for a moment pitifully, then he took down her hands gently, and kissed her.
'You do not know how I have tried to resist you, but I could not. I am on fire. My blood is no longer blood, but some burning love-philter. I cannot help myself,' said she, lifting up her head defiantly as if she were facing the whole world, 'here I am, do with me what you like, only tell me that you love me, that you love no other woman but me, swear it.'
'I swear,' he said languidly, 'that I love no other woman.'
She did not understand the meaning of his words.
'But tell it to me again, say it often, it is so sweet to hear it repeated from the lips of those we dote on,' said she, with passionate eagerness.
'I assure you that I have never cared for any woman so much as I do for you.'
'Cared?' said she, disappointed.
'Loved, I mean.'
'And you can swear it?'
'On the cross if you like,' he added, smiling.
'And you do not think badly of me because I am here? Well, you are the only one for whom I have ever been unfaithful to my husband; though God knows if he be faithful—my husband; God knows if he be faithful to me. Still my love does not atone for my sin, does it?'
Teleny did not give her any answer for an instant, he looked at her with dreamy eyes, then shuddered as if awaking from a trance.
'Sin,' he said, 'is the only thing worth living for.'
She looked at him rather astonished, but then she kissed him again and again and answered: 'Well, yes, you are perhaps right; it is so, the fruit of the forbidden tree was pleasant to the sight, to the taste, and to the smell.'
They sat down on a divan. When they were clasped again in each other's arms he slipped his hand somewhat timidly and almost unwillingly under her skirts.
She caught hold of his hand, and arrested it.
'No, Rene, I beg of you! Could we not love each other with a Platonic love? Is that not enough?'
'Is it enough for you?' said he, almost superciliously.
She pressed her lips again upon his, and almost relinquished her grasp. The hand went stealthily up along the leg, stopped a moment on the knees, caressing them; but the legs closely pressed together prevented it from slipping between them, and thus reaching the higher story. It crept up, nevertheless, caressing the thighs through the fine linen underclothing, and thus, by stolen marches, it reached its aim. The hand then slipped between the opening of the drawers, and began to feel the soft skin. She tried to stop him.
'No, no!' she said; 'please don't; you are tickling me.'
He then took courage, and plunged his fingers boldly in the fine curly locks of the fleece that covered all her middle parts.
She continued to hold her thighs tightly closed together, especially when the naughty fingers began to graze the edge of the moist lips. At that touch, however, her strength gave way; the nerves relaxed and allowed the tip of a finger to worm its way within the slit—nay, the tiny berry protruded out to welcome it.
After a few moments she breathed more strongly. She encircled his breast with her arms, kissed him, and then hid her head on his shoulder.
'Oh, what a rapture I feel!' she cried. 'What a magnetic fluid you possess to make me feel I as do!'
He did not give her any
After a few moments of rapture she, this time, stopped to take a breath.
'Yes, I am wrong. You love me. I see it now. You do not despise me because I am here, do you?'
'Ah! if you could only read in my heart, and see how madly I love you, darling!'
And she looked at him with longing, passionate eyes.
'Still you think me light, don't you? I am an adulteress!'
And thereupon she shuddered, and hid her face in her hands.
He looked at her for a moment pitifully, then he took down her hands gently, and kissed her.
'You do not know how I have tried to resist you, but I could not. I am on fire. My blood is no longer blood, but some burning love-philter. I cannot help myself,' said she, lifting up her head defiantly as if she were facing the whole world, 'here I am, do with me what you like, only tell me that you love me, that you love no other woman but me, swear it.'
'I swear,' he said languidly, 'that I love no other woman.'
She did not understand the meaning of his words.
'But tell it to me again, say it often, it is so sweet to hear it repeated from the lips of those we dote on,' said she, with passionate eagerness.
'I assure you that I have never cared for any woman so much as I do for you.'
'Cared?' said she, disappointed.
'Loved, I mean.'
'And you can swear it?'
'On the cross if you like,' he added, smiling.
'And you do not think badly of me because I am here? Well, you are the only one for whom I have ever been unfaithful to my husband; though God knows if he be faithful—my husband; God knows if he be faithful to me. Still my love does not atone for my sin, does it?'
Teleny did not give her any answer for an instant, he looked at her with dreamy eyes, then shuddered as if awaking from a trance.
'Sin,' he said, 'is the only thing worth living for.'
She looked at him rather astonished, but then she kissed him again and again and answered: 'Well, yes, you are perhaps right; it is so, the fruit of the forbidden tree was pleasant to the sight, to the taste, and to the smell.'
They sat down on a divan. When they were clasped again in each other's arms he slipped his hand somewhat timidly and almost unwillingly under her skirts.
She caught hold of his hand, and arrested it.
'No, Rene, I beg of you! Could we not love each other with a Platonic love? Is that not enough?'
'Is it enough for you?' said he, almost superciliously.
She pressed her lips again upon his, and almost relinquished her grasp. The hand went stealthily up along the leg, stopped a moment on the knees, caressing them; but the legs closely pressed together prevented it from slipping between them, and thus reaching the higher story. It crept up, nevertheless, caressing the thighs through the fine linen underclothing, and thus, by stolen marches, it reached its aim. The hand then slipped between the opening of the drawers, and began to feel the soft skin. She tried to stop him.
'No, no!' she said; 'please don't; you are tickling me.'
He then took courage, and plunged his fingers boldly in the fine curly locks of the fleece that covered all her middle parts.
She continued to hold her thighs tightly closed together, especially when the naughty fingers began to graze the edge of the moist lips. At that touch, however, her strength gave way; the nerves relaxed and allowed the tip of a finger to worm its way within the slit—nay, the tiny berry protruded out to welcome it.
After a few moments she breathed more strongly. She encircled his breast with her arms, kissed him, and then hid her head on his shoulder.
'Oh, what a rapture I feel!' she cried. 'What a magnetic fluid you possess to make me feel I as do!'
He did not give her any
Similar Books
