Chapter 14 The Happy Couple
Jack had finished the story by the time Kate was long out of the shower. Now that he had come to, he decided that although the author of these stories was very talented he was also greatly disturbed, or at least in a very dangerous state of mind when he wrote these. Jack figured maybe it was a fine line between genius and crazy.
Her return broke him out of his feast of literature, and he directed his attention to her lovely, curvy, soft pale body. He grew hard as instinct began to take over. He wanted to be with her now, and not the books any more.
“I see you’ve got quite the collection here,” Jack commented on the room full of Poe and Shakespeare. As he got up and gently kissed her on the neck and snuck a soft hand down the back of her towel.
“Oh, well thank you,” Kate said in that tender, erotic whisper that was her bedroom voice. He had such strong hands yet such a delicate touch. Jack’s kisses slowly began to trail down her back. “Yes, I really love reading.”
`“Me too,” Jack said as he moved her arm up, allowing the towel to fall so that Kate stood naked, wet, and helpless, Jack’s lips got closer to their target.
“I try to read everything, classics, contemporaries, obscure authors and works, essays, journals, but my personal favorite, are my art books. I love art, Oh my god!” She wasn’t going to be able to contain herself anymore.
Jack began to dig his tongue deep into her as she tried to carry on, but she just couldn’t. For some unknown trail of time Jack buried his tongue and two fingers into her body as fast and gentle as he could until the inside of Kate’s legs were gushing and sopping wet, and her screams of pleasure echoed throughout the house.
The two needed a minute to catch their breath in between their loving and congratulatory kisses of climaxing. “Would you like to read with me?” Kate said in a sudden spur of smiles, love, and inspiration
“Sure,” said Jack as the two laid down on the bed to rest. “I read that last book while you were in the shower. The guy who wrote it is pretty twisted…”
“That’s nothing, you should read Naked Lunch,” Kate interrupted
“Anyway,” Jack carried on. “I’m kinda tired of reading, so why don’t you read to me, while I just lie at your side and kiss you until my lips are sore?”
She kissed his chest in order to signal that this was a splendid idea.
Kate picked out a book and the two made themselves comfortable on the bed. Kate made herself some tea and Jack poured himself a strong full glass of bourbon. Kate showed Jack the book, it was a collection of essays and poems by the same looney who wrote the other stories. Jack wondered why she was so fixated with the author, but he didn’t care. He was just glad to be with her and to listen to her read.
She carried on and she began in that amazing theatrical style she did so naturally while Jack cupped her left breast and kissed her neck, gently finding his way down her stomach to the bottom of her leg and back again. He did it soft enough to make her smile and not distract her from the reading. She selected her favorite poems and began.
wishes by crazy modernisms and former external instincts.
By natural unnatural intoxication knowledge.
Depraved yet smiling on another winded day.
But so of another wandering light of love on milton forgotten days.
What so can be said of a forbidden lust and wandering capture.
What escape and what a love of such a word of that and what!
By center and by try these all and forever will and will not,
ever by light of the modern, and the former, and the knowledge,
and the forgotten days.
“Beautiful,” exclaimed Jack.
“Yes, it is a good poem isn’t it?” replied his love. “It reminds me a lot of e.e. cummings.:
“No,” exclaimed Jack. “The way you read it.”
His love blushed and turned the page, carried on with another poem as he continued his kisses up and down her body.