The Book of Samson by David Maine

Author:David Maine [Maine, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2007-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Something to Consider

Now we reach that part of my story which is perhaps of greatest interest to you. And maybe you should pause here a moment and reflect as to why this is so.

My Weakness for Harlots—II

Dalila was not a tall woman but a tremendously vital one. I’ve always been drawn to the quickness of slight women who flit like birds from one perch to another and such was she. Though small she was well formed with hard muscles in her calves and a slim waist and a deep line running down the center of her back. Black hair flashing reddish in the sun. Curly it was and it fell past her shoulders and the woman knew much about keeping it oiled and perfumed and garlanded with loops of small white flowers. She possessed also two neat rows of uncommonly white teeth with none missing at all—merely a slight gap between the two in front which always made me want to poke my tongue there—and was one of those women whose natural tendency when looking upon something or someone unknown is to smile. Perhaps I was especially vulnerable to this: much of my life has been spent being looked upon by strangers who were not smiling and so I found this trait of hers attractive.

Besides all this she had other pleasing physical attributes and talents of a womanly nature which I will leave you to imagine as I’ve no doubt you’re well able to do.

As for her temperament—well it was a changeable thing. During our time together I witnessed many facets of that particular gem. For instance there was Passionate Dalila but also Curious Dalila and then again Sulky Dalila and so forth. As time passed she seemed to try on these tempers one after another as a different woman might change robes. But which of these moods was the closest to her true nature—or whether they all were or indeed if each masked equally the true contours of her soul—I can’t answer even now.

The valley of Sorec was where she dwelt with her father: a man who did business for some of the prominent Philistine families there. For Dalila herself was a Philistine but I had no notion to let that fact interfere with her attractiveness. Nor did I have any idea of the true prominence of the families her father dealt with.

The marketplace was where I first looked upon her. I said to myself Now this is a rare woman. And I was right. And I thought also Here is the last woman I shall ever lie with for after her my days and nights of wandering are done.

Right again I was when I thought that. If only I had known.

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