quarta-feira, 22 de julho de 2009

LOUIS COULD NOT SLEEP . . .







Louis could not sleep. He turned over in his bed to lie on his stomach and, burying his face in the pillow, moved against the hot sheets as if he were lying over the woman. But when the friction increased the fever in his body, he stopped himself.

He got out of his bed and looked at his watch. It was two o’clock. What could he do to appease his fever? He left his studio. The moon was shining and he could see the roads clearly. The place, a beach town in Normandy, was full of little cottages, which people could rent for the night or a week. Louis wandered aimlessly.

Then he saw that one of the cottages was lighted. It was set into the woods, isolated. It intrigued him that anyone should be up so late. He approached it soundlessly, footsteps lost in the sand. The Venetian blinds were down but not tightly closed, so he could see right into the room. And his eyes met the most amazing sight: a very wide bed, profusely covered with pillows and rumpled sheets, as if it had already been the scene of a great battle; a man, seemingly cornered in a pile of pillows, as if pushed there after a series of attacks, reclining like a pasha in a harem, very calm and contented, naked, his legs folded out; and a woman, also naked, whom Louis could see only from the back, contorting herself before this pasha, undulating and deriving such pleasure from whatever she was doing with her head between his legs that her ass would shake tremulously, her legs tighten as if she were about to leap.

Now and then the man placed his hand over her head as if to restrain her frenzy. He tried to move away. Then she leaped with great agility and placed herself over him, kneeling over his face. He no longer moved. His face was directly under her sex, which, her stomach curved outwards, she held before him.

As he was pinned under her, she was the one to move within reach of his mouth, which had not touched her yet. Louis saw the man’s sex rise and lengthen, and he tried with an embrace to bring her down upon him. But she remained at a short distance, looking, enjoying the spectacle of her own beautiful stomach and hair and sex so near to his mouth.

Then slowly, slowly she moved towards him and, with her head bowed, watched the melting of his mouth between her legs.

For a long while they maintained this position. Louis was in such a turmoil that he left the window. Had he remained longer he would have had to throw himself on the ground and somehow satisfy his burning desire, and this he did not want to do.

He began to feel that in every cottage something was taking place that he would like to be sharing. He walked faster, haunted by the image of the man and woman, the round firm belly of the woman as she arched herself over the man …

'Little Birds' by Anaïs Nin - 'The Woman on the Dunes'

17 comentários:

roserouge disse...

Excelentes fotos, excelente texto da libidinosa Anaïs. Roubei-te uma foto e a parte final do texto para por no Pé de Moça. Bj

Eduardo P.L disse...

Paulo,

a Bé fez muito bem em levar sua primeira imagem para o Pé de Moça! Ela esta bem lá!
Seu sub-título do blog foi para o:http://monoglota.blogspot.com/

onde também ficou bem!

Forte abraço

Missanguita disse...

Coitado do Louis....
Mas tamém... à vezes que não é mesmo para dormir!

Gata2000 disse...

Miss Anaïs tem o condão de destabilizar até as imagens dos santinhos no altar.

Se o Luis não conseguia dormir antes, de certeza que não dormiu depois!

Paula disse...

acho que agora sou eu quem não vai dormir....
:D
demasiado sugestivo!

Moleskine disse...

'Os Passarinhos'.. : )
Mas esta estória não acaba aqui...
Continua na praia, com uma estranha...

Gostei..!

(Hei-de passar cá mais vezes..)

PAULO LONTRO disse...

roserouge,
podes roubar o que quiseres eu fiz o mesmo...
O tal blog do pés...
:)

PAULO LONTRO disse...

Eduardo,
bem-vindo aqui ao canto.
um abraço

PAULO LONTRO disse...

missang,

pois claro que nem sempre é para dormir...

PAULO LONTRO disse...

Gata,
podes ter a certeza... eu pelo menos com "aquilo" no nariz não adormeceria.
:)

PAULO LONTRO disse...

paula,
pois a minha intenção também não era dar-te sono
lol...
;)

NI disse...

Eu vi o post pela manhã, mas porra, nem comentei.

1º porque tinha que trabalhar e não podia perder a concentração. Ok, confesso, perdi a concentração.

Só agora comecei a recuperar, ahahahaha

PAULO LONTRO disse...

Moleskine,
bem-vinda ao canto.

sim continua, e continua quente... tal como tudo o que Anaïs escreve.

volta sempre
:)

PAULO LONTRO disse...

NI,

minha linda, pensei que estas imagens e o texto substituíssem os primeiros 3 ou 4 cafés...
:)

cantinhodacasa disse...

"He began to feel that in every cottage something was taking place that he would like to be sharing. "

Fantástico este excerto.
Se estivesse em Português, muitas excitações iria provocar, pois nem todos entendem Inglês.
Esta parte final achei-a interessante, porque o pensamennto de Louis reflecte o que todos nós pensamos quando olhámos os outros.

Beijinho.

leitanita disse...

Pois tb eu aqui vim e fiquei sem folego pensei em voltar um pouco mais tarde... e voltei! mas continuo sem palavras...

Missanguita disse...

E gosto dos sapatos da primeira....
Achei que tinha de partilhar...