![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() The light of the sun blurred and annihilated all color. It’s via Hélène Lagonelle’s body, through it, that the ultimate pleasure would pass from him to me. I want it to happen in my presence, I want her to do it as I wish, I want her to give herself where I give myself. I’d like to give Hélène Lagonelle to the man who does that to me, so he may do it in turn to her. I want to take Hélène Lagonelle with me to where every evening, my eyes shut, I have imparted to me the pleasure that makes you cry out. I am worn out with desire for Hélène Lagonelle. I’d like to devour and be devoured by those flour-white breasts of hers. ![]() I’d like to eat Hélène Lagonelle’s breasts as he eats mine in the room in the Chinese town where I go every night to increase my knowledge of God. Those flour-white shapes, she bears them unknowingly, and offers them for hands to knead, for lips to eat, without holding them back, without any knowledge of them and without any knowledge of their fabulous power. She makes you want to kill her, she conjures up a marvelous dream of putting her to death with your own hands. “Hélène Lagonelle’s body is heavy, innocent still, her skin’s as soft as that of certain fruits, you almost can’t grasp her, she’s almost illusory, it’s too much. ![]()
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