Read Online The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas - Free Book Online Page A

about was how to seduce her.
    ‘It’s true,’ he said quietly. ‘Harry had no right to hit the child.’
    She was taken by surprise; he even thought a shadow of disappointment might have crossed her face. She unclenched her fist. ‘No, he didn’t.’ But her response was muted, unconvincing.
    ‘You put the kids to bed. I’ll start cleaning up.’
     
    He was stacking the dishwasher and he felt like dancing. He flicked Benny Goodman into the kitchen stereo, feeling like something jaunty but solid. He was whistling as he closed the machine and started clearing the benches.
    ‘How the hell can you be so cheerful?’ She was standing with her hands on her hips, her expression unamused.
    He danced up to her and kissed her lips. ‘Cause I got you, babe.’
    And it was true. It was so fucking true. He put his arms around her, lowering his hands to cup her buttocks. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her earlobes. He tightened his grip.
    ‘They’re not asleep yet.’
    ‘I don’t fucking care,’ he whispered. His cock was hard and he took one of her hands and placed it on his crotch. She giggled, and it reminded him of Connie. He closed his eyes, realising that he’d been hoping the girl had faded from his imagination forever. But of course she hadn’t. He gave himself over to the fantasy. He was undoing the buckle of his wife’s belt, lowering her skirt, stroking her belly, reaching for her breast. With his eyes closed, he was recalling the soft, sparse bristles of Connie’s cunt.
    ‘I don’t need a rubber, do I?’
    Aisha shook her head. ‘It shouldn’t be a problem,’ she whispered close to his ear. He shivered, the sound, her breath, entering and invading his body, waves of euphoria rollicking through him, again and again.
    ‘Let’s go into the bedroom.’
    He did not reply. Instead he lifted Aisha’s arms in the air, and began kissing her neck. He pulled her top up and first cupped, then he began kissing her breasts. She tried to pull away from him but he would not let her. His lips closed over a stiffening, obliging nipple, then he was sucking it, biting it, till Aisha let out a small whimper of pain and reluctantly he stopped. He straightened, faced her, her eyes were sparkling, and then, suddenly, they were both giggling. He wondered, briefly, if the children could hear, then the thought was gone. His zip had lowered, his cock had been released from the cavity of his Y-fronts and he could smell Aisha’s desire. He pushed a finger inside her, she moaned, and he pushed his jeans down and his cock was inside her. Like that, standing up, her skirt bunched around her ankles, his jeans pulled down to his knees, moaning into each other, the drug keeping him hard and allowing him to forestall climaxing, they fucked for ages. When he came he could not help crowing out his rapture and Aisha, laughing, placed her hand across his mouth. He left his softening cock inside her, thrusting gently, whispering he loved her, whispering her name. He heard her gasp, then she was kissing him hard, almost biting his lip. His eyes were still closed, he wanted to stay inside her. He had banished all thoughts of Connie—now that he had come. Not before, he couldn’t before. He had merged them in the fantasy of his exertions, fucking his wife, fucking the girl, all at the same time, their bodies, their cunts, their skins both one and distinct for him. Aisha shifted and his cock slipped out of her. Still grinning, they pulled up their clothing.
    Aisha went to check on the children and came back. ‘I think they’re asleep.’ It was years since he had seen her look so sheepish.
    ‘We were quiet.’
    ‘No, we were not.’ She went to the kitchen sink and started clearing the remains of the salads into the compost bin.
    He went up behind her and clasped her tight. ‘Let me do it. I’ll clean up.’
    ‘We’ll do it together.’
    ‘I’ll do it.’ He was firm. The drug, though less relentless now, was still in his blood and