Американские боги
Chapter 8
Thewomanpurredagainsthimecstatically,herhandmovingdowntothehardnessofhimandsqueezingit.Hepushedthebedsheetsawayandrolledontopofher,hishandpartingherthighs,herhandguidinghimbetweenherlegs,whereonethrust,onemagicalpush…
Nowhewasbackinhisoldprisoncellwithher,andhewaskissingherdeeply.Shewrappedherarmstightlyaroundhim,clampedherlegsabouthislegstoholdhimtight,sohecouldnotpullout,notevenifhewantedto.
Neverhadhekissedlipssosoft.Hehadnotknownthattherewerelipssosoftinthewholeworld.Hertongue,though,wassandpaper-roughasitslippedagainsthis.
—Whoareyou?heasked.
Shemadenoanswer,justpushedhimontohisbackand,inonelithemovement,straddledhimandbegantoridehim.No,nottoridehim:toinsinuateherselfagainsthiminseriesofsilken-smoothwaves,eachmorepowerfulthantheonebefore,strokesandbeatsandrhythmswhichcrashedagainsthismindandhisbodyjustasthewind-wavesonthelakesplashedagainsttheshore.Hernailswereneedle-sharpandtheypiercedhissides,rakingthem,buthefeltnopain,onlypleasure,everythingwastransmutedbysomealchemyintomomentsofutterpleasure.
Hestruggledtofindhimself,struggledtotalk,hisheadnowfilledwithsanddunesanddesertwinds.
—Whoareyou?heaskedagain,gaspingforthewords.
