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since Rhoda."
Nancy thought for a moment or two, and then stood up. "Come," she said, and
held out her hand for him. He stared at her, uncertain of what it was that she
expected of
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him. But then he took her hand, climbed up off the zabuton, and followed her
along the corridor to a plain, wood-floored anteroom. Its walls were hung with
a collection of five erotic woodblocks in the style of Kiyomitsu, beautifully
dressed Japanese women in flowing silk robes ^ their clothes only slightly
lifted or parted to vreveal the huge gnarled penises that were penetrating
their vaginas.
Without a word, Nancy loosened Jerry's necktie, and began deftly to unbutton
his shirt. Jerry stayed still, his hands by his sides, watching her with a
feeling of unreality but also, for the first time since he had heard that
David had been kidnapped, a feeling of peace. As he had noticed the last time
he had visited her, Nancy had an extraordinary quality of inner tranquility, a
calm that reminded him of the still lake around the Gold Pavilion in Nara, of
walking along the little alley called the Path of Philosophy by the Old Canal
in Nanzenji, when the rows of cherry trees silently blizzarded their blossoms
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into the water.
In a matter of moments, with humility but also with dignity, Nancy had
stripped him naked. His penis rose higher with every heartbeat. She ran her
hands down his bare chest, making him shiver, and down his thighs. Then she
loosened her own pale-pink silk robe and let it slide on to the polished
floor. She was slim and small-breasted, naked except for an embroidered ribbon
of white silk that was fastened around her waist and between her legs, tied so
tight that it disappeared into the cleft of her sex.
She untied the ribbon, and drew it off herself, to reveal that it had been
keeping in place, inside her, a miniature jade figure of a baldheaded deity
carrying a peach, the symbol of the female vulva. Without comment, she set the
figurine aside, and then took Jerry's hand and led him into the bathroom.
Under a sharp, needling shower, Nancy soaped his shoulders, his back, and his
buttocks. She cupped his balls in her hand for a moment, while she soaped up
and down the shaft of his erection; but not for too long. The true
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stimulation would come later. Then she stood with her eyes closed, her long
dark hair spreading wet across her shoulders, as Jerry slowly and firmly
lathered her back, her breasts, and her slender thighs. The water dribbling
between her legs turned her dark heart-shaped pubic hair into a tail.
Afterward, fresh and dried, they closed themselves in the bedroom, where a
large soft futon lay on the floor. Nancy insisted that Jerry close his eyes
and lie on his back. She massaged him with lightly scented oil, and spoke to
him monotonously and matter-of-factly about the mystical power of yin and
yang, the sexual union; and of the nutritive powers which wise men could gain
from drinking "the medicine of the three mountain peaks" from the women they
couple with. The first juice was the juice of the Red Lotus Peak, saliva from
the tongue; the second juice was from the Double Lotus Peak, milk from the
breasts; the third was the most nourishing juice of all, and should be imbibed
by men in the greatest quantities possible, the precious juice of the
Mysterious Geteway.
Jerry lay back on the futon, feeling Nancy's fingers working at his muscles,
feeling her naked skin against his, and although his anxiety for David never
left him, it became tempered with a new determination, more resolute and more
balanced. He began to feel that if he had gone to Nancy Shiranuka for help,
instead of his shrink, he might have forgotten Hiroshima years ago.
At last, with exceptional elegance, as beautifully curved as a bamboo-brush
painting, Nancy lifted herself over him, and took his penis in her hand, so
that she could couch it in the slippery curves of her vulva, and, with a
musical sigh, sink down on him, so deeply that she trembled with a sensation
that was part pleasure and pan shock.
She was like no other woman, Caucasian or Oriental, that Jerry had ever slept
with. She seemed to give herself to him totally, surrender her pride and her
personality without any reservation whatsoever. She rose up and down on
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him as if she were conjuring the very soul out ot him, through his penis; and
at the instant of his first climax she withdrew herself, only by a fraction of
an inch, so that they could both witness the jets of semen anointing her open
lips.
They were locked together in the bedroom for an hour and a half, and during
that time she brought him to three climaxes, opening her body up to him in
every possible way. Yet, when it was finished and she lay next to him on the
futon smoking a cigarette, he felt as if he had been through a mystical rather
than a physical experience. He understood now what she had meant about the
bond between two living people, the knot tied between their spirits, as if
every movement had twisted one silken cord around another, as if each act of
intimacy had tightened the ties.
When they were quiet again, when their breathing was gentle and even, Jerry
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said, "There's something else I have to ask you."
Nancy lay beside him, her face so close that he could scarcely focus on it.
He'd been growing increasingly far-sighted with age, and he found that he was
reading newspapers at arm's length these days. Eyeglasses, bridgework, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]