A Month Later I Turned Into

A Month Later

A month later I had turned into an animal that saw only one thing — a woman’s body, capable of satisfying passion and restoring calm to a spirit rubbed raw.

But, damn it, I hadn’t become a tame beast — I’d become a wild one!

Fear me!!!

The day came when I made a desperate attempt, a lightning strike, an all-crushing assault — Clausewitz himself would have envied me! Ha, she was strong and had spent a month fighting me off with ease, but on this day I had experience, cunning, and desperation on my side. I understood: now or never again.

Nevermore!

Early in the morning I crept up on her and swooped like a hawk onto the body I craved. The girl threw me off the couch and rained a hail of searing whip-blows down on me. Child’s play!

I gave my mind, pierced through with unbearable pain, one order: endure!

It went on unbearably long… about two seconds. The whip slipped from her hands.

«Victory!» pounded in my ears, but the girl suddenly unleashed a hail of dense, powerful blows, clearly drilled into her by some bitch of a trainer. This, too, dragged on just as wearingly. Three, four, five seconds…

dodging the flashing arms and legs, i pressed her back…

quietly, stealthily, edging the girl back toward the wall…

pinning down her freedom of movement, not letting her feel sure of herself…

so, so, so, quiet, careful, sidling along, throwing up blocks, feet never leaving the floor, pressing just a touch, ducking, but step by little step forward…

…when a flicker of unease crossed her huge eyes, I caught her ankle with my left hand as it whistled toward my chest, pulled her against me, and toppled her onto the couch. She gasped in surprise. Her muscles went slack, gave way — got her!!! victory!!! — and without wasting a moment, pressing my miraculously won advantage, I twisted her arms behind her back and pressed my lips to her slightly parted, dream of a mouth, ran my tongue along her teeth… and very nearly blacked out.

My God!

I nearly died from the wave of fulfilled desire crashing over me. My tongue met hers, supple and ardent. Our tongues intertwined, whipping up a whirlwind, a storm, in the space bounded by our mouths! I had conquered that writhing body! It went still.

She put her arms around me.

Pulling back from the kiss, she whispered something hot into my ear, and… four men, appearing from who knows where, grabbed me by the arms and legs and carried me out into the corridor.

— A-a-aaah! — my throat tore out. I could have killed myself from despair, fury, and hatred!

I hated everything, everyone, myself included, to the point of madness, of utter self-forgetting.

Примечания

Carl von Clausewitz

Carl von Clausewitz

Carl von Clausewitz, the Prussian military theorist and author of On War, famous for defining war as the continuation of politics by other means.
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Nevermore

Nevermore

Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven" and its refrain "Nevermore," with the full English poem and a note on its celebrated Russian translations.
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