This is the second part of the tale started here
Picture: © Rimel Neffati Photography
Dissertation, Longing
For the next four weeks I was busy working on my dissertation. At weekends I only had time for a short ride through the parks, or around a nearby lake, a place where I, and many locals, visited in summer, for a long swim. It was now getting colder, as this longitude the end of October marks the onset of winter. My work was progressing well, so I started thinking of visiting my sister in London.
Yet, at the back of my mind, I kept reflecting on my strange encounter with the lady in the forest. My memory of her was vivid, so much so that every day at sunset I felt a strong urge to see her again. I thought I would not, but I was mistaken. And so it was that fate would prove again that the unexpected does happen.
A Call
It was one very early morning, I had decided to finish off the first draft of my paper, had made coffee, showered, and I was about to set down to work. At the very instant the land line telephone rang. I was surprised, for very few people had the number. Even more surprising was the fact that the calling number was none other than my mobile number, the phone I had lost in the forest. It was her voice, strangely close: she wanted to return the phone, said she had a debt to repay, was at the entrance door. I was stunned. Her dialect sounded stronger than I remembered it. In a daze I rushed downstairs.
She was standing at the door holding her bike, an old very stylish ladies bike. She wore no longer a cape but a short jacket and worn blue jeans. In the dim pre-dawn light she also wore dark glasses. I repressed the urge to take her in my arms. In this urban setting she seemed lost. I helped her to lock her bike in the courtyard next to mine, took her hand and led her upstairs. Her hand was warm, I could feel the skin of a manual worker.
At my door she stood still
At my door she stood still, threw her arms around my shoulders, and after taking off her glasses, looked deep into my eyes. Hers were dimmed, as if the green light I remembered so well had been turned off. I took her in my arms and carried her inside, closing the door. She looked around, seeming to take in the details of my place. Freeing herself of my grip she kissed me on the cheek. I offered coffee, which was declined, but she accepted a glass of water. I invited her to look around and admire the view from my window which gave over on the park.
Her scent was of autumn leaves and burnt wood. She took off her jacket and asked for the toilet. I drank some coffee. My mind was in turmoil, unsure of what to do, vaguely aroused. She was standing behind me, holding my phone. “I found it in the woods, close to where we met.” I was thinking that she had also somehow worked out the password and found my address. I looked at her, she did look tired, and a little older than I remembered her. She asked me to take her to my room. I hesitated. I was suddenly anxious, very unsure of what she wanted. What was the “debt” she had mentioned?
Drawn Curtains
In my room the curtains were still drawn, so it was quite dark, with just a little ray of morning sun filtering through. She quitted her glasses, then came close to me. “I want to give you a gift, she said, but if you want me to go, just say, and I will. I took advantage of you the other evening in the woods, so I want to be pardoned.” I had no idea as to what she meant. I merely said: “You don’t have to be pardoned for anything, For me it was a delightful encounter, and I want to thank you for leaving this note for me, otherwise I would have spent the night in the woods!”
We stood, face to face, for some time. I forgot about the dissertation. Then she kissed me on the mouth, pressing her small body against me. With slow gestures, her green eyes suddenly brighter, she started undoing the buttons of my shirt. Paralysed I was looking at her, and I was soon naked in front of her, not embarrassed, but still uncertain. She gestured to me to lie down, then slowly stripped, carefully folding her clothes on a chair.
Her body was exquisitely sculpted by exercise and living in the open, but her skin was very pale. She had a flat belly, small but firm breasts and bottom cheeks, I also noticed she did not shave at all: she had long hair under her arms, and around her genitalia. Her limbs were muscled and beautifully shaped. I was lying on my back, half erect, as she came over me, the green eyes deep into mine.
Expertly she guided my penis into her vagina. I understood she did not want any foreplay, nor me wearing a sheath: the lady meant business. Yet there was something else. She started contracting her vagina’s muscles, and I realised she had full control of her body. I was hypnotised. She held my head in both her hands, I saw only her red lips, and as she smiled, her small shining teeth.
Threshold
She was contracting slowly, releasing me and contracting again, at a slow rhythm. I felt myself grow inside her, as each of her move seemed to pull me in deeper. I held her tighter, feeling her strong heart beat. Her lips were on my neck, caressing. With her hands she was lightly pushing my head sideways. Confused images flooded my mind: the owl, the great oak, a sinking feeling. Her body motion had accelerated a little. I could feel her own excitement, and suddenly I knew what she wanted.
I yielded to the pressure of her hand as she opened her mouth on my skin. It was a strange, unreal feeling. I was close to orgasm, and I was certain she was too. I knew what was happening now: I only felt the moment her teeth broke in, and she started drinking. Her body went hard in my arms, a long spasm shook us both, as together we came. She was drinking and I felt sinking deeper into her.
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