Harlot's Ghost by Norman Mailer

Author:Norman Mailer [Mailer, Norman]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9780517106969
Publisher: Ballantine
Published: 1991-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

28

ONE MORE LIE. THE LETTER HAD NOT BEEN CUT SHORT BY A DESIRE TO chastise Kittredge. I simply did not know how to continue. After all, I had begun with the fabrication that Chevi had phoned me, and ever since, had been attempting to balance my account, a common practice in putting Agency reports together. If, for some reason, you could not send the truth back to Washington—if, for instance, you hired Gordy Morewood to do a specific job after the Groogs had instructed you to let him cool his heels, why, then, you gave Gordy another name, and paid him out of a new file. Double-entry reporting—an art! Rare was the field man who did not practice it on occasion.

Now Kittredge had been placed on double-entry. I had suppressed a critical passage between Libertad and myself. Wholly at her behest, I expect, Chevi had closeted himself in her gold and marble bathroom for a good twenty minutes during our visit, and in that time Libertad conferred on me one of her royal gifts—fellatio. We had not been alone for a minute before her fingers walked over the buttons on my fly. I will not give the details—suffice it to say that she exhibited such sensitivity to one’s shifting states of tumescence that we did not get to the offering until Chevi had splashed enough water in bowl and washbasin to indicate he would soon be back with us—instead, she took me up and down a steeplechase of long and languorous hoops and loops. I might have discharged with sensations extraordinary enough to be hers forever but some residual Hubbard stubbornness, refusing to hand over the drawbridge to a stranger, was there like a mailed warder and slammed a gate in my soul; I came, to my surprise, painfully. Alpha, taken in whole, must have gone clear over the hurdle; Omega shattered darkly below. My loins ached when I was done and I buttoned myself quickly, whereupon she made a point of licking her plump lips as if seed were cream, gave a squeeze of her hand to mine, and kissed Chevi with considerable passion when he came back to the room. I was not about to pass all this on to Kittredge. Yet I hardly wished to mislead her by too much. That would once again violate the spirit of our correspondence. So I had given a fulsome description of Libertad’s attractions, as if to communicate by that route the depth of the magnetic field her mouth and lips had put upon the nether parts. At its best, I had felt, I confess, like a superbly prepared canvas upon which a truly notable artist was laying the most purposeful strokes. To make up for any real loss in my account of—yes, I now knew the meaning—of such exquisite pleasure, I had exaggerated the initial impact of meeting. In truth, I did not feel in the presence of a goddess until her mouth led me to study the turns of expression on her face.

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