Vitomil Zupan: Menuet for Guitar

I don't remember how I turned her onto the stove and pressed down on her with all my strength, without any thoughts, without any awareness, in some kind of fog, I kissed her on the mouth, we sucked each other in, I buried myself in her, and in a wild rhythm we both climaxed at the same time. I stayed on her, just laid my head on her hair, and she whispered in my ear, but probably very loudly, or maybe it just seemed that way to me, her voice became hoarse, deeper, she trembled beneath me and I felt the contractions of her vagina on my member.

Do I even want Vesna? Or do I just have to fulfill some task that I set for myself? Damn, it caught me just as I watched her walk in front of me. I could sneak up to her, maybe I would get playful, oh, this silly kid has never betrayed me. We know this job after all.

Something repels me. But not hygiene or anything like that. Between me and Vesna, I feel a wall, cold, repulsive, and if I don't break down that wall, I will be grumpy tomorrow, defeated, I will feel like I was used for her satisfaction after a good dinner, and not even asking who I am at all, what is in me: now I must wholeheartedly take care of her, I must ensure - as best as I can - that she is not hungry, that she is not thirsty, that she is comfortable, but, besides all that, in the end, I still have to put hairs on hairs, tick-tock, tick-tock tuk tuk, give a kiss, kitty; mine, mine, good night. Because all of that is more beautiful than saying bluntly: just give it already, what are you waiting for? It's rough and simple, but beautifully coated with the varnish of our civilization. After dinner, she unmistakably grabbed my thigh a few times and squeezed. One more thing: if I don't push her down, I risk her getting offended; the least she will think is that I am impotent or even homosexual; she knows how attractive she is, irresistible, worthy of the greatest desires. How she sat on the cart - so that it was just visible under her skirt, neither too much nor too little. Anton was terribly repulsive to her - he was the only one who didn't want to look at the arranged bait; Vesna's naive soul doesn't know that Anton knew exactly why Vesna was showing her thighs, and he resisted her.

I leaned back against her, and slipped my hand under her coat, legs in stockings, unfastened the clasp on her garter belt. "Are you feeling better already?" she asked me seemingly worried. She helped me unfasten the stockings, we pulled them down, she had smooth, warm skin, taut flesh, indeed, if it wasn't better than I expected. Panties down. To hell, those are real thighs and butts, it simply struck me and I was completely transformed, all agitated, even shivers ran down my back, which only happens to me in anticipation of great pleasure. I just pulled down my pants and underwear and threw them towards the wall so that nothing falls out of my pockets. Old experience. If a man doesn't know how to suddenly, almost in a flash, free himself from his pants, the situation can suddenly become terribly tangled. She looked with interest at my lap and reached for my member too quickly, so I felt her nails along the way. She had pleasantly soft hairs and moist lips, with a slight backward slant. So, and now the breasts. I took off her sweater and blouse over her head, under the thin bodysuit her lush breasts swelled, two firm mounds, each the size of a larger palm. She wanted to take off the bodysuit too, but I caught her by the hand.

This airy purple silk fit so well against her golden-brown skin. Besides, I am somewhat afraid of complete nudity: I have too good eyes, what? No, no, there is something else: complete nudity is never as naked as slightly covered nudity, which can promise a lot. From complete nudity, there is no way back - only back to covering. Besides, the Easterners are right when they teach us: one should not rush to unite, nor should one be hasty, nor should one break off immediately; one should enter the game slowly, gradually increase the speed of experiences, reach a climax, and then beautifully slowly execute the final play. They are right, I say - but I often do not adhere to this, because other, perhaps deeper things are more important to me. To be aware of what you are looking for, what you actually want from this or that woman - that is the hardest. No one in the world lives a sexual life without a certain mask. Even the very tactics and strategies of getting closer require a lot of pretending. And then shame. Then habits and the style of the age. By incomprehensibility, what all possibilities actually exist. Someone has a hydroelectric power plant in bed, and he needs nothing but a sip of water. Besides, we each have (mostly unconsciously) our own model - which we seek throughout the erotic journey, we try to deceive ourselves, we indulge in imagination, we mess up our memories; we deceive partners and ourselves. The relationships of two souls strongly affect physical relationships - and an ordinary sexual act can become very complicated.

I caressed her limbs, accustomed my palms to her, and she got accustomed to them. It annoyed me that she held me so tightly like she was afraid I would escape. "Gentler," I told her. She suddenly relaxed, too suddenly; I saw that she was obedient and insecure in herself. Her face took on that beautiful fertile expression, when the eyes become a bit drunk, cloudy, full of deep warmth, when the lips swell and slightly curve as if in agony and behind the lips, teeth shine, ready to bite, cheeks in their paleness turn red, and along the nose, two lines descend, as if from fatigue, when the hair gets tangled in a peculiar way, when a person loses the features of their photograph and takes on the primal expression of an unmarried woman who waits... She looked at me as if she didn't see me, and I felt how I was sinking into the expression of her face, how I began to forget who she is, where I know her from, how her charm captivates me, how it intoxicates me, how against my will I begin to fall in love with her... and how the scent of her skin and her sex electrifies me... just a little moment longer and I will collapse... I will bend down... fall on her... it will happen.

"Show me where they hit you," I said. She was surprised, as if I had awakened her from a dream. I already thought she had made it all up. She turned onto her side and showed me her butt. Indeed, the marks of blows were visible from top to bottom, some dark and light spots in rainbow colors, from bluish to yellow. I stroked her. My palms no longer felt like sausages. "Kneel. Get on all fours," I said, helping her to rise on her knees. "But why?" she wanted to know. "Don't ask." - "Is the old man sleeping?" "He's sleeping." I don't remember how I turned her onto the stove and pressed down on her with all my strength, without any thoughts, without any awareness, in some kind of fog, I kissed her on the mouth, we sucked each other in, I buried myself in her, and in a wild rhythm we both climaxed at the same time. I stayed on her, just laid my head on her hair, and she whispered in my ear, but probably very loudly, or maybe it just seemed that way to me, her voice became hoarse, deeper, she trembled beneath me and I felt the contractions of her vagina on my member.

For a certain time, I was not present at all, but she was - she allowed me into the present, into the here and now, here on a peasant stove in an unknown house.

- If you only knew how strange you seemed to me! I never even thought you would be interested in me... I actually felt that I was repulsive to you...

I felt that I could go again, if she remained silent. I tried. She sighed and gently kissed me on the face and ear.
Then she surprised me with a question I did not expect, least of all at this moment:
- What is your name?
Really. She doesn't even know my name. But it is now impossible to say. I knew what her name was, but I probably never called her by name. I was too disgusted by the eternal Mislovo addressing her as Vesna here and Vesna there.

So I didn't answer her. She continued to talk.
- Oh, how good I feel... I'm fine, dear...
- Stop with those tasteless jokes - I interrupted her - rather talk about what it is, if you must talk. Come on, say, what are we doing!
- We are kissing - she replied immediately, it seemed to me that she would break her tongue with that inappropriate verb.

I slowly forced her to say how we say these things in our language, in a crude way. "Does that excite you?" she asked me. "No, but I can't stand sweet prattling."
She said I was a bit cruel. And she loves beautiful words about beautiful things. And she surrendered to pleasure again, she started mixing her style with mine, the situation became funny. "Oh dear, how good you are, darling... push it in, how beautifully you do that for me... push it in, my golden fukifukac... I don't even know your name... are you pushing your nails into my butt... I didn't even think you cared about me..."
Then we slept like puffs. She hugged me and snored quietly.
It was already nearing morning when I woke up hard, and immediately pounced on her. I don't know if she even woke up, we melted into whispers, sighs, and panting.

The old man lay just as still, the lamp burned with a dim glow, only in the window behind the curtains, something sparkled - the coming day.

I turned away from her and fell asleep freely without dreams.
In the morning, I was already washed and dressed when Vesna woke up.
She looked at me smiling, dressed under her coat, and I sat down at the large maple table and took the old People's Calendar in my hands.
The old man was watching lively from under the covers.

Vesna got off the stove, came to me, kissed me on the cheek, and then left the room. Hardly had she closed the door behind her when the old man stretched out his hand from under the covers and waved for me to come closer. "Come here!" he said in a low voice, holding back laughter. I approached him. He whispered so that I had to lean over him.
- I have never had such fun - he said laughing. - I saw everything, you know... but you don't need to tell her that... Maria, God's helper, what all exists in this world... do you know that I have never known how it is done my whole life... my wife and I were always in the dark... those were such times...

He could no longer speak from laughter.

When we were leaving, the old man waved at me again, I approached him again, leaned over him, and listened to his whisper:
- Know that I will die easier now...
He was unusually serious.