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sábado, julho 24, 2010

e é assim...como sempre.


The Cat’s Eye

I grew up very much alone, and as far back
as I recall I was frightened of anything sexual. I was nearly sixteen when I met Simone, a girl my own age , at the beach in X. Our families being distantly
related, we quickly grew intimate . Three days after our first meeting, Simone and I were alone in her villa. She was wearing a black pinafore with a starched white collar. I began realizing that she
shared my anxiety at seeing her, and I felt even more anxious that day because I hoped she would be stark naked under the pinafore.

She had black silk stockings on covering her knees, but I was unable to see as far up as the cunt (this name, which I always used with Simone, is, I think, by far the loveliest of the names for the vagina). It merely struck me that by slightly lifting the pinafore from behind, I might see her private parts unveiled.

Now in the corner of a hallway there was a saucer of milk for the cat.

“Milk is for the pussy, isn’t it?” said Simone. “Do you dare me to sit inthe saucer?”

“I dare you,” I answered, almost breathless.


Georges Bataille
STORY OF THE EYE
by Lord Auch

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