Эд Макбейн - Mothers and Daughters

“Kiss me.”

He held her in his arms gently for a moment, and then touched her hair. He lowered his mouth and kissed her. She held him tight for a moment, and then moved her head to his shoulder and whispered, “I like the way you kiss.”

His hands cradling her face, he pushed her hair away from her ears, capturing it at the back of her head.

“No, please,” she said. “Don’t do that. I can’t stand it.”

He released her hair.

“But... kiss me again?”

He kissed her, and she tightened her arms around his neck and then released him suddenly and said, “David, I think...” She shook her head. She turned away from him, opened her bag, and looked for her key. She unlocked the door and threw it open. She was turning toward him again when his arms encircled her waist. Standing behind her, he kissed her throat, and she turned in his arms and breathlessly found his mouth, and they moved into the dark apartment silently, caught in the dim illumination from the light in the hall. He closed the door with one hand. They clung to each other in the soft dark. She lifted her mouth to his and whispered against his lips, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me all night long.”

“Yes, I wanted to kiss you.”

“We’re telling too much,” she said.

“We’re not telling half enough.”

“Oh, yes, I want to tell you. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Neither have I.”

“I’m frightened. I don’t think we should start anything.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Oh, David, kiss me.”

His lips found hers in the darkness, parted, he held her close, she whispered, “I don’t believe in things like this, do you?”

“I believe in whatever happens.”

He could hear a clock ticking somewhere in the apartment. Her voice came into the darkness and the silence, a whispered voice, uncertain.

“David... David, do you want to make love to me?”

“Yes.”

“I never have,” she said. She paused. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes. Of course, I believe you.”

“I’m trembling, do you know that? Can you feel me trembling?”

“I can feel you.”

“David, don’t do this unless...”

“Unless what?”

“I’m not a casual person, David. Please... unless...”

“I loved you the minute I looked at you,” he said.

“Oh David, oh David, do I ask for the wrong things? Do I frighten you?”

“No. You ask for the right things. All the right things, Gillian.”

“Come with me,” she said. “Hurry, come with me.” She took his hand and led him down the hallway. Outside the door to her bedroom, she said, “Say it again, David.”

“I love you.”

“Oh, yes. Oh, you say it. Does it sound strange?”

“No.”

“Have you ever loved anyone before?”

“I think so.”

“Who? What was her name?”

“Ardis.”

“Did you go to bed with her?”

“Yes.”

There was moonlight in the room, streaming through the single window. They took off their coats, and he sat beside her on the bed, and they stared at each other very seriously, and suddenly she smiled, and he smiled back at her and said, “I can see your eyes in the dark,” and she said, “Touch my breast. Yes. Oh, I want to cry.”

“No, darling.”

“You’re so wonderful. You were so sweet to that drunken man on the train. Charlie. You were so sweet. You excite me tremendously. Should I tell you these things?”

“Yes, everything.”

“Hold me. You feel so hard. May I touch you?”

“Yes.”

“You make me dizzy.”

They leaned back against the pillows, and he kissed her again and then unbuttoned her blouse and said, “Your breasts...” and then stopped.

“No, please say everything. Never stop, David.”

“You’re beautiful, Gillian. You’re so beautiful.”

“Yes, yes, for you. I’m glad. For you. David, I’m very excited. Are you excited?”

He kissed her again, and she pulled her lips from his and said, “Should I feel embarrassed?”

“No, why should you?”

“I thought I would feel embarrassed. I don’t feel that way at all.”

“Good.”

“Shall I take off my clothes?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, is that what... I mean, does the girl or...?”

“Yes, take them off,” he said.

“I act as if there are rules.” She took off her blouse, but her hand hesitated on the button of her skirt. She looked at him and said, “David, I don’t wear panties.” She paused. “I feel embarrassed now. I... I suddenly do.”

He reached out and she extended her hand, and he pulled her gently to the bed beside him. He unbuttoned the skirt and lowered the zipper and his hand touched her belly beneath the skirt and then moved under the garter belt, flat against her skin, and she said, “I know I’m going to die when you touch me. I just...” and fell suddenly silent with a soft shocked intake of breath. She closed her eyes and said, “Please,” wanting to say more, wanting to ask him to be kind and gentle and not to hurt her and to please make this what it should be for her because this was the first time, but she only said, “Please,” and David, understanding all in that single word, answered, “Yes, Gillian.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be good.”

“You’ll be lovely.”

“I want to be good for you. I want to please you.”

“You do please me.”

“Take off your clothes. I want to touch you again.”

He stood beside the bed and took off his clothes without embarrassment. She watched him, intensely curious, studying his body with wonder.

“It’s brass,” he said suddenly, and then quickly added, “The bed, I mean.”

She thought that was the funniest thing she had ever heard in her life, and she began laughing suddenly, and suddenly he was beside her again, the long length of his body against her, and he kissed the laugh from her mouth, and she felt her brassière loosening, her breasts falling free, his hands suddenly claiming her.

“I’m wet,” she said. “I’m terribly wet. Am I supposed to be so wet?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I like touching you. Am I doing... is this right?”

“Yes.”

“How do I feel? Tell me how I feel to you.”

“Soft. Wonderful.”

“When... when will you...?”

“When you want me to.”

“Would you tell me when?” she said. “Because I...”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Am I beautiful?”

“You’re lovely.”

“My hair is all messed.”

“Your hair is lovely.”

“David, will...” she started, and felt him suddenly inside her, suddenly and without warning inside her, filling her, immense inside her, she wanted to move against him, stretch, enfold, she wrapped her arms around his neck and said “Oh!” in surprise, and then “Oh!” again, and then she bit his ear and pulled back her face and stared directly into his eyes and then thought, How comical we must look, and then forgot entirely how comical they must look because her body was suddenly not her own, her body was suddenly trembling in uncontrollable spasm after spasm after spasm, “Oh!” she said, “it’s... it’s... oh!” and she kissed his mouth and pulled her head away again and said, “Do it, do it,” her voice rising, “do it, love me, I love it, I love you, do it, do it! ” and he plunged deeper inside her until she felt nothing but a rolling succession of waves, dizzy on the crest of each wave, falling uncontrollably into troughs of giddy faintness, and then the lurching shock of his release shuddered inside her, and she pulled him closer as a greater spasm echoed through her, pulled him deeper, squeezed her eyes tight shut as he drained himself, close to him, close. She stroked his hair as he lay limp against her. She kissed his cheek and his nose and his forehead. She smiled in the darkness, and in a little while, she asked, “Was it good?”