| 3rd page of LECTEROTICA. Then, another agonizing pause. She waited. All at once the chiffon caressed her left armpit, as though he were wiping her with it. The same on the right side. After a moment she realized what he was doing when her nose detected the odor of her aroused sweat, mixed with the scented bath oil she used. Then a brief touch at her lips, then another, and she extended her tongue and licked the scarf, tasting the length of it as he drew it slowly in a horizontal line. He then drew it inside her elbows, under the bottoms of her breasts, and she felt them lift and tighten. He shifted the tension from one breast to the other and she knew he was observing the way they moved and appeared to change size. He gave a soft sigh and slowly released her breasts�but made sure to tease her nipples fleetingly with the scarf as he withdrew it. Clarice prayed this wouldn�t go on too much longer, but forbid herself to utter a word. Lecter had incredible patience, but she knew him well enough to predict that he�d soon bring this game to a satisfying conclusion. He didn�t disappoint her. She felt the soft scarf tickling the bottom of her buttocks, then the insides of each thigh�it came higher and Lecter was using it skillfully on her engorged labia, making the most delicate, delicious circles that seemed endless. She gasped and bucked her hips, unable to restrain herself. He kept a rigid pace, never going any faster or slower. Inevitably, she felt her entire body tense and the flood of pleasure as she climaxed with a sob. In response, he bunched the scarf and worked it, inch by soaking wet inch, into her vagina, pushing with two fingers until she felt it fill her. Then finally, scarf number ten, tickling her throat as she panted, recovering only partially from three consecutive orgasms. She could feel the other scarf still inside her and clenched herself around it. She realized he was using both hands: The right to control the ends of the scarf at her throat, which he looped around and pulled from the back, and the left to grasp the scarf that poked out from between her legs, and draw it out, a centimeter at a time, with teasing, torturous little tugs. He pulled it toward the front of her, so that it surged against her labia and clitoris, and she felt her heart rate zoom as another orgasm commenced. This time, as she succumbed, he drew back slowly with his right hand, constricting her jugular, making her feel lightheaded. For the first time, she understood something of the late Mason Verger�s predilection for the noose and the mirror; realized that if Lecter wished to, he could kill her, and realized also that she couldn�t think of a better way to die. The instant the ninth scarf dropped limply to the bed, the pressure at her throat ceased, and Clarice took great draughts of fresh air. Full consciousness came back steadily, as the ringing in her ears diminished and her vision cleared. It had been close. Dr. Lecter kept his Harpy knife atop the night table at all times when he was at home. Clarice found this oddly endearing. Now he reached for it, and she felt a tug on her right ankle and heard the tear of fabric. The bed bounced twice as he went to the other side and freed her left foot. She was too weak to make any adjustments in her position, and used the time to recover, not trying to hold back the sobs of emotion. Lecter cut through the material that girdled her hips; then he loosened her hair gently. She heard the knife scrape briefly against the wood of the headboard and knew there would be small nicks there the next time she looked. Her hands were free, but she continued to grip the headboard, not wanting to collapse in a tearful, ungainly heap. Finally, he carefully worked the knife into the knot behind her head and the blindfold fell away. She kept her eyes closed. For the first time that evening, she felt the warm flesh of his hands, gently pulling her back, turning her, arranging her legs more comfortably, and replacing the pillows to cushion her head. Only when she felt him descend to align the length of his body with hers, did she look at him. His face was an exotic blend of lust, grief and triumph. He took her head in his hands and held her tightly, licking the tears off her cheeks, as he had done so many times before. He traced her lips with his tongue and she opened them, sucking his tongue into her mouth and lunging to capture him with her arms and legs in a grip of iron. Her legs were spread wide again�after such a prolonged period they almost felt more natural that way�and he responded promptly, sliding into her with urgent force, making them both cry out. He�d tortured himself the whole time, watching Clarice undress, recording her movements around the room as she lit the candles, laid out the scarves and positioned herself on the bed. He�d felt her body respond to his touch and had breathed in her primal scent. He knew she was already well satisfied and gave himself over to completion of his pleasure, thrusting fast and hard, making her writhe even more, and descending into his own whirlwind of ecstasy. Turn to next page of story.... |