The bed had become moist through the perspiration from our bodies.
So we decided to install ourselves, for dinner, on the sofa near the window. With the twilight the atmosphere turned somewhat cool. I fetched a dressing-gown for Therese, who, seized with a tardy fit of modesty, had again hidden herself under the sheet. When I returned, bringing our provisions, she was up, closely enveloped in her gown, the belt of which she attached with minute care, — adding a second knot, and then a third. And while doing so she glanced at me from underneath her eyelashes mockingly.
All that we had to eat were the remains from the day before, — a most meagre repast, but, thanks to a little champagne forgotten in the Thermos flask, appearances were kept up. The meal at an end, we chatted and smoked. The sky-blue rectangle formed by the window changed from royal to Prussian blue, and then became studded with stars, more and more numerous. We were unaware of the exact hour.
But what did that matter to us?
When night came completely, — a summer night which was astonishingly tardy, — we cast aside our cigarettes by tacit consent, and Therese snuggled up towards me, with her mouth extended towards mine. A long dialogue between our lips and our tongues followed. I meditated on the fact that, under her dressing-gown, Therese was nude; but I did not dare to slip my hand within her bosom, fearing that she was weary of our orgy of caresses of the afternoon.
Prudently, I placed my hand on her knees, covered by her garment.
To tease her, I drew back a little, with a semblance of wanting to avoid her lips; and in the movement she made to reach my mouth her knee became uncovered. I experienced a lukewarm surprise at finding a morsel of bare flesh under my hand. Prudently I advanced my fingers, wishing, to extend this unexpected conquest, without awakening her attention unduly. Only the dressing-gown suddenly slipped, uncovering the whole of her thigh as far as the shady line of the groin; whereupon my wife made the movement I feared, ready to drape herself afresh and still more closely. However, she did not complete her gesture; feverishly-and as though she herself were completely dazed-she thrust her tongue into my mouth, while her legs parted in my direction, accepting my caress.
Notwithstanding her acquiescence, I still hesitated. What I wanted was, indeed, a more complete conquest, and the slightest piece of clumsiness might compromise it. Timidly, my hand went further up, lightly touching the interior portion of her thigh, the epidermis of which was so immaterially soft that I was astounded. As I progressed the muscles relaxed, the skin became still more soft and then, without transition, I felt under my fingers the crease formed by her sex and its aureole of silky hair. Suddenly, however, her legs closed and my hand was arrested. Once more there was refusal: modesty's invincible reflex, which every time forbid me the ultimate privacy of the flesh.
Exasperated-giving up the idea of continuing my deceptive incursion- I sought to withdraw my imprisoned hand. But Therese prevented me, exclaiming:
"No, remain where you are. Wait a bit!" Her thighs relaxed their grip, then opened completely. Her sex being, at long last, offered to me, I placed my entire hand on it, with the palm on the thickest part of her fleece, and the fingers right on the red and blooming flower of her flesh. For a long time, too, I made no attempt at a more active caress, but gave myself up to the voluptuousness of that warm contact, — to the intoxication of having conquered the secret home of love. Under my inactive hand, the intimate nudity of that part of her person became animated by a succession of ripples: long and passionate waves which thrilled through my wife's body until they reached our closely united lips. The dead silence of the night was disturbed merely by the low sound of our kisses as we embraced and disembraced.
Therese's tremors at last became less frequent, less passionate, whereupon my hand awakened. Momentarily abandoning the satisfied flesh, my fingers strayed over her smooth stomach and ascended, under the dressing-gown, in search of the nipples of her breasts. But soon they descended, — to become, as it were, Will-o'-thewisps, which no more than grazed her sex, without actually touching its inner folds. Like a light flame, my fingers went hippety-hop on her fleece, skirting its shady, downy edges, and then slipping to her hips, along the secret line of which my fingers travelled. Then, most delicately, they made the return journey to their point of departure; and thus the backward and forward movement proceeded. Little by little, however, my fingers became more insistent and more penetrative. Parting the curls, which my vagabond fingers had entangled, I resumed tactile contact with the most secret spot of her whole body. And soon on the most tender parts of her sex my caresses-more and more rhythmic-were centred.
Therese, wholly absorbed in the intensely voluptuous sensations which were again thrilling her, ceased to kiss me. She tried to undo the triple knot of her waist-belt; then tore it off impatiently; and, casting her garment aside, offered me, in the sweet light of that clear night, her wholly nude body. Under my agile fingers, whose caresses I still further accelerated, the flesh of her flesh became moist with desire; her legsparted still more-stretched towards me her exasperated flesh; and with both hands clasped to her breasts she threw herself back with upturned eyes.