Will I find him again one day? I thought, as I opened the new door. Already I was unsure who this man was for whom I was searching. Wasn't he one of those I had made love to here? By following in the steps of the man who had entered the little circus, who must be wandering like me through this strange kingdom and making love to other women, was I not pursuing an illusion? Or, on the contrary, were the men I had loved here no more than mere phantasms? Would I find true love only once I had completed this quest, so full of desires, joys and pains?
How we would all like to be lucid all the time, to know what we are doing and why we are doing it! But,
just as the more we gather knowledge
the more we see the depth of our ignorance, so the more we progress in
our understanding of ourselves and of the world the more the mystery,
within us and around us, deepens. That is why, cast out in these dark
corridors, we find ourselves at the I had entered a small, simple room. I went to the window, which was covered by light white curtains. It faced directly into the window of another building, separated from mine by a narrow alley. And in this room, which was similar to mine, a man sat in an armchair, reading.
He was tall, well-built, mature, obviously handsome and athletic in his youth, but now grown a bit heavy with age. Was it the act of observing him through a window? Straight away I felt a strong curiosity about him.
Strangely for a man reading quietly in his room he was wearing a dark, elegant suit, a white shirt and a narrow, sober tie which he had loosened around his open collar. His hair, cut short on his thick neck, was greying, and, even though he had an intellectual look about him, his heavy head could almost be that of a boxer, with his lumpy nose, his low brow, his prominent cheekbones and square chin. The bottom of his right trouser leg had ridden up as he sat cross-legged and I could see his sock, a fine, grey cotton sock snug over his ankle. I wasn't able to make out the title of the book he was reading.
The man didn't move, yet the fact that I was spying on him without his knowledge excited me considerably. I felt that, by observing him, I was going to penetrate inside him, pierce his secrecy. It was like a rape without violence, something which filled me with a very soft, very sharp sensation.
I looked at him and wondered what his life must be like; I imagined his naked body, his way of making love, his way of life . . . What was on his mind at this exact moment? What type of woman did he like? Was he sensuous, loving and sexual? Free? Capable of fantasy? Intelligent? Fun-loving? Shadowy? Mysterious?
The man got up, went to his window and stopped, directly opposite me. I don't know whether he could see me behind my curtains. We stood motionless for a while and soon I knew, from the expression on his face, that he was looking at me. I started slowly to undo the buttons down the front of my dress.
Once I had opened my dress, I opened the curtains. He looked at my body, looked at me. I knelt down at the window and placed my mouth against the glass at the height of his penis on the other side of the alley. With my lips against the pane I started sucking, staring into his eyes, imploring him to respond to my desire. He undid his flies and took out his penis. He was erect.
I closed my eyes for a moment in sheer happiness. He was magnificent. I devoured him with my gaze, again and again. Those balls and that thick cock sticking out of his elegant suit, beneath his tie, were magnificent. I got up, took off my dress and turned around slowly, wiggling my hips to allow him to examine my anatomy at his leisure.
I pressed my breasts against the window and fondled them. He took his cock in his hand and slid up and down. Then I pulled the chair up to the window, sat down with my legs spread over the armrests and started wanking right in front of him, without taking my eyes off him. I came as I watched him rub himself, faster and faster. At the moment when my hips convulsed and lifted from the chair, at the moment when I cried I out, with my head back, I was aware that he was watching me eagerly and that I excited him as much as he excited me. I opened my eyes in time to see him ejaculate, shooting his lovely semen all over the window, where it began dripping down slowly.
Then he left the room and didn't reappear. I went to lie down and fell asleep immediately. I woke up at dusk. In bed, my first action was to look out the window. At that precise moment I saw the light go on and the man come into the room accompanied by a woman.
She was a tall, strong woman wearing lots of make-up. A whore, I thought. She took off her coat, beneath which she was wearing a basque and stockings, her shoes had excessively long and pointed heels. Her large bosom swelled out like a pigeon's breast.
I left the light off in my room. They started making love and I told myself that he had deliberately brought her back to fuck her in a fully lit room before my eyes. She knelt down in front of him, as I had done in front of the window, and began sucking him off. Then he took her to the bed and began to grope and chew her large tits. How I wished I were in her place! How stiff he must be! I wanted him to have pleasure, even if I couldn't give it to him myself. Yet, he soon lost interest. With the help of the girl he got undressed, lay on top of her and took her.
The girl's ankles, with their pointed heels, were wrapped around the neck of my loved-one, and his broad back moved up and down steadily between her thighs. I felt both very excited and very sad to see him making love with another woman. And I wasn't sure whether it was the flame of jealousy or lust that was keeping me there behind this window in the dark, my chest tight, breathing in short gasps, making sure I caught every single detail of their copulation.
The man made the girl go down on all fours in front of the window and, kneeling behind her, he buggered her, directly opposite me. I peered intensely at his face which was contorted with pleasure. I wanted to cry out "No, no!" and "Yes, yes!", for I wanted to be her, I wanted to be him, I wanted him, I wanted this to be happening in my body . . . At the last minute he withdrew from the girl and ejaculated in the air, towards me. That's for me, I thought, it's my present, he did it for me. I came at the same time as him, my mouth open, as if I could swallow the come he was sending me.
I left the room, feeling a little lost. I was never able to touch the man. He had given me nothing but the sight of him, and he would never give me anything else. Yet, if I had been able to meet him, he might have been the man I could have loved most in the world . . .
I walked for a long time in the corridors, constantly seeing the same cruel and fascinating images. Was I right to expose myself like that in front of him? It was so ridiculous . . . but it would have been even worse if I hadn't been able to express my desire. What had he thought of me? Had he loved me a little? Now that I had lost this man, this man I had never had, I had no appetite for anything else.
