XXVI.
Something happens to me now, there is an old satyr in my room. He
has knocked on my door hoping to meet my master who is not home yet. I
know him from before. I have seen him at parties so I let him in to wait. I
have seen pictures of satyrs in books my master has. They are not real, they
are imaginary. So they are real, but you can't touch them, that's all.
First of all they are a little ugly, they have unruly tufts of hair here
and there, large noses and ears, full lips, and their bodies, what is
wrong there, slightly out of proportion, what is it with the little
feet and bent knees. You see pictures of Perseus and Jason and they
are athletes, perfect. The satyr's body is gnarled through absence while
it thinks on its own body too much. The curse of the gods.
This one stands at the window now, sipping at the vodka I gave him.
Indeed, his hair is short but scruffy, streaked all over with gray as is
his beard, short and pointed. His pale brown eyes look at me with
not much curiosity, hairy too under fronds of eyebrow and eyelashes
brown and gray, skin a mottled white, he appears to me a symphony of
winter, brown lips attached to the glass the lower one splays sluglike
and inside the mouth a flash of yellow palisade.
The scent of vodka tends to comfort me, I cannot describe it well,
high, thin, earth passed through cold air, a sense of distant horizon at
sunset. I watch him take the glass from his lips with long thin fingers,
hairs growing below the knuckles, the arm extends crablike from
shoulders narrow and his own scent reaches me curving round the other,
blooming on a trellis I cannot help but climb.
"Your glass," I say, "needs refilling." He looks at me while I pour
from the bottle out of the fridge, cold in my hand, I carry it back to
the sofa and turn around for him standing there.
"Let me," I say lifting the glass to his lips. He puts his head back a
little but does not look at me as he swallows, the movements, the lumps
in the mottled throat hypnotising to me. His stomach protrudes over his
belt, its roundness brushing against me.
"Your body is horribly unattractive to me, " I say to him putting the
glass down and running my other hand over his stomach along the line of
his belt, and try to push my fingers down behind it. Too tight, have to
loosen it with my other hand, and my left slides over this roll of fat
down to his crotch, fingers slipping over each side of his prick into a
double crevice while the ridge between gets higher harder. Belt buckle
dangles in my other hand so I yank it pull it out.
"You have to take off your clothes," I tell him, my own crotch burning
now.
When he's done that I look at his round hips, thin legs and narrow
chest with slight revulsion the belt still in my hand, and with my own
body I push him face down onto the sofa and grab his arms behind him,
bind them together with the belt when he reacts with a gasp for the
first time.
The sound and sight of him lying there head to one side, one leg on the
floor starts my heart beating faster till I can feel the blood pulsing
down my legs. I reach around his waist pull his haunches up in front
of me and wet everything he has with my own saliva, then kneel behind
his bum and pull up my skirt, lean over onto his back and grab his
prick with my left hand, pull my tail through my legs with my right and
push it into him first go. Start rocking into the rhythm of his moans,
pushing up with my hips through the base of my spine and down through
the tail, curving up into him, dragging at his prick at the same beat,
my tail rubbing at my own ganglia, the muscles inside me contracting
with the thrusts, phew, feels awful good, but.
Nipples erect brush against his back and limp fingers at my pleasure,
while in my own hand convulsions carrying his voice a scream in tune
happen like so, and I press myself up hard againt him while I go
blind, while my whole body centers on one event horizon inside my guts
somewhere the expanding particles ending up evaporating in a pop at the
limits of the known universe.
Seduced by a satyr... does this mean that I shall disappear?