Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 15 - Imagining Bella



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny

The Hollow Men V- T.S. Eliot

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

Chapter 15 E

EPOV


Turner
Dawn was starting to break and I knew of a little trattoria near our hotel.





"Let's go get something to eat? Are you hungry?"






"I am", she said. And she got up to get dressed.






Outside on the piazza we are washing our fruit in the bowl of water, and sipping some dry white wine for breakfast. Such a simple way to eat. I order a plate of roasted calamari and two lattes.


Renoir


Looking out at the water the sky still has a tinge of the palest pink that is turning to that azure blue that Venice is known for. The incredible light you find nowhere else. And looking at the landscape that has been painted by almost everyone of note, it is difficult for me to see it fresh. I see Turner especially and I can't remember if he painted this or I am just imagining it as if he had.



And then I turn to look at Bella and the seascape disappears. Her face is washed in this special light and I really see how beautiful she is.






"You are so beautiful Bella. You look like the morning of the world."






She looks at me until her eyes grow darker and I catch my breath.






"I want to tell you about my dreams, Edward. But not just yet. Later. We will go to see your paintings? That's not a question."






"We will. That's not an answer either," and I smile at her not taking my eyes from hers.




Everything is delicious and we linger without talking. I feel myself becoming aroused and look at the water instead which is lapping at the steps making tiny foam waves. When I look back at her she is staring at me, licking her lips, and she doesn't look away as I lock in on her eyes. They darken again and she breathes more heavily.






"This has to stop," I say, "or I won't be able to concentrate when we look at art."






"I don't want to stop," she says simply, in a hushed voice.






My breath catches and I cannot stop gazing at her.






"We can go back to the hotel first. It's too early anyway to go to the exhibit." I'm smiling lazily at her. Her eyes widen and she turns in her chair.






sorry
She giggles, then laughs, "First one back gets to be on top," and she sprints for the hotel. She has a head start but I am a fast runner. I catch up to her and leap in front of her and grab her saying, "You lose. for a little while at least." And then I lean in to kiss her and she opens up to me completely, arching, and breathing heavily. From running or desire? Or both?





"Good god Bella, now how are we going to get back there?"






She laughs a tinkling laugh and pulls me closer. Now I am so hard and I want her so badly. I grab her hair and tighten my hold on her head as I kiss her more demandingly. We are both gone now and neither of us want to stop as we stand here in the middle of crossing the piazza with fluttering and cooing pigeons all around us.





"I'll make you come right here without touching you."




Renaissance perspective ???


Her eyes widen and she kisses me harder.
"Yes, yes, now."






"Right now I'm going under that little silk skirt of yours and you have no panties on. I am feeling your thighs. I am sliding up because I smell you." Can you feel me, Bella?"





"Yes, oh yes, Edward. More."






"I am touching you now where you are hot and oh so wet. I am slowly, slowly touching you gently as I slide my index finger from your clit down sliding past your open cunt, just open for me, and all wet, so wet."






"Feel me my Bella, feel me."






"Oh Edward," and she pulls me closer as we stand here crushing our bodies against each other.






Now I am putting my finger in you, and you are so hot inside and so wet. I slowly draw it out and push it in again. I want to stop and taste you."






"No Edward, don't stop, please don't stop. More, more."






"I am rubbing your ass with my other hand. Do you think anyone will notice? Now I am taking my other hand and my first two fingers and wetting them in you. I am going under your skirt in the back and rimming your ass opening. Do you like it?"






"Oh god, Edward, yes, yes, I love it, I love it."






"Are you feeling my fingers in your cunt? My thumb rubbing your clit?" I can stop, you know. It isn't too late yet."






"No," she moans, "don't stop, don't stop. I'll collapse on the stones here if you stop. Hold me tighter. I'm trembling so. I feel like screaming."






"No no no, you must be quiet and hold it in. You can't come yet. I'm not done with you."






"Edward," she whispers softly and raggedly. "Please, please stop teasing me."






"But I love to," I say. "I love to bring you to the edge, and then stop and look at your face."




Bella is gasping now. "I am putting three fingers in your cunt and I am circling your clit with my thumb. Now I press hard on your clit! And my fingers curl up inside you, hard! And my cock is urging me to move into you. My other fingers have entered your ass now and I am gently rubbing, around and around inside you, while I move my other hand in your cunt. So soft. So wet, just for me."






"Oh Edward, yes, just for you. Only you. Please I can't… please please please."




"Now I am moving hard and fast in you. I feel your trembling. Can you feel my hands and fingers? Can you, can you?" I say softly. "You can't hold it back much longer, can you? But I don't want you to come yet."






"Please Edward, please. Enough enough, please let me come now."






I lean in to kiss her throat and I whisper commandingly, "Now, Bella, now. Come all over me!"




And I bite her neck hard enough to leave a bruise and she shudders all down her body as I hold her tightly, so tightly, that she cannot move or fall. I pull her mouth close to my skin to keep her from screaming, and she continues to convulse and shake while I hold her imprisoned.






When she begins to breathe normally she looks up at me with tears running down her face. "Oh Edward, oh Edward, I can't believe you did that to me. I can't believe it. It was so wonderful, so wonderful. I never dreamed,"… and she kisses me with abandon.






And me. I can't believe it either. I imagine loving her in this way and it comes true.



Friday, September 16, 2011

Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 11 - Cumaen Sibyl



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny
_____________________________________________________________________






 The Cave of the Sibyl


According to the Roman poet Virgil, the entrance to the underworld lies inside the Cave of the Sibyl, a hole cut into the cliff that circumscribes Lake Avernus, a volcanic lake northwest of Naples, Italy.

Outside the sibyl's cave, you can see a sign carved into stone:

More History and Images


For Savage's Hide and Drink Edward

The blood blossom flowers
At the fragile girl's throat
The vampire bears down
Holding her imprisoned supine form
His mouth open
His lips caressing
Silken skin suckling
Plumbing pulsing each precise precious
Deep and delicious mouthful
Throbbing into him
Drinking and calming his frenzy
Then with his venom
Seals her wound.
Saving her for yet
Another day
Another night
Another time
Until….

Chapter 11 Death 

EPOV


As we go up the stairs Bella begins to undress. At each landing she undoes more of her clothes.


My god I am ready for her.

I'm not sure I will even get in the door.

And then when we do and she begins screaming at me to take my pants off. I don't know who I am looking at. She is possessed. Her eyes are wild, her eyes are black and luminous, and she is unstoppable.

She goes down on her knees in front of me and takes me in her mouth. But I slide down her throat and her throat muscles clasp me tightly, pull me down deeper and deeper; her teeth graze me in warning. My god! Vagina Dentata!

She grabs the skin on my ass to hold on and then I am horror struck as I realize what's happening. I see it all the way to the end. To Death.


I am about to be initiated into a practice that has no return.




I hit her hard across the face to stun her.

And she gasps and I leave her throat and mouth in a rush.


She looks at me in hurt and astonishment, before she crumples into sobs while I am throwing her to the floor, on her back, restraining her with my body, hands, legs.

I know about this. It is ancient. The ecstasy it offers is without comparison. Anyone who indulges does not come away alive. I will come in her mouth and she will keep milking all of it out of me and it will be so wonderful I will want her to do it again. And again. In a short time my semen will become mixed with blood and she will milk my blood out of me. She will crave my blood and I will crave her mouth but her throat even more. She will bleed me, and I will beg her to keep bleeding me. As I die from lack of blood I will still beg her for just - yet - once - more.


And I will die.


 Just like those rats who press the bar to stimulate their pleasure center and don't drink, don't eat, don't fuck, don't take care of their babies. That's all they want. Just that. And it will be all I will want and all Bella will want. And when I die and there is no more of my blood she will go mad and die.


Asian prostitutes know this. Men did not die because they didn't have enough money to continue to the end. When AIDS came on the scene they were more careful and now it is impossible to find one who knows the ancient art, who will do it.

Mothers train their daughters starting in early childhood. Bella knows from a past life. We have done this in the past. We have died like this in the past. I know it, I know it. The desire is so strong, we must have never been able to resist before. I can hardly resist now and only because I know about it. If I didn't know about it I would never have stopped. And we would have been doomed yet one more time. My god. This is where this incredible demand that she be mine, mine and no one else's. Only her. She is the only one who can do this to me. I am the only one whose blood she will want once we begin.


Oh my god. This is where the legends of vampires come from, only the genders have been reversed to reveal and conceal the secret.

The sexual ecstasy just suggested, but death clear and open.




I keep telling her no, no, no that she doesn't know what she is doing.

She can't know. Now is not the time she will listen to words, so while she is sobbing I hold her tight around her sides and stomach and my left hand digs into the base of her spine where that abominable glorious kundalini energy lies dormant, a snake ready to coil out and strike when we least expect it.

I put my mouth on her and begin to devour her folds, her center, thrusting my tongue in her, sucking her clit, my teeth demanding she respond to me. Slowly she begins to move as I insist with my fingers, my mouth, my tongue, my moans, my voice humming against her.


She returns to this world of ours and looks at me eyes wide open, breathing heavily but no longer erratically.




"What happened? What Happened! Where was I? I was gone. I was in another time. I couldn't stop. I wanted to kill you if you left me. Is that what I meant when I said I would kill you if you even thought about trying to leave me? And I know given the slightest opportunity I would do it again in a heartbeat.


 How could you have stopped? Whatever made you stop? Why did you stop? I don't understand. Tell me. Tell me."




So I entered her slowly, pushing deeply into her, slowly, very slowly, and as I did I began to explain this ancient practice. I kissed her throat, her lips, her breasts, her nipples, and held her face with my hands and looked deeply into her eyes as I began to tell her about the beautiful, powerful Cumaean Sibyl who lived in a cave and was a prophetess.

Michelangelo painted her on the Sistine Chapel. Aeneas visited her to help him go into Hades and return. Virgil writes about her. And it was in her cave that a Christian burial ground was discovered in 1932.


Her cave looks just like a vagina. I have no doubt who those bodies belonged to. I was even willing to believe that I was one of them.




"No wonder I knew you right away when I saw you across the hallwayYou have haunted men's dreams for all time. And you know secrets of pleasure and power that you don't know you know. There is something beyond us going on.


I haven't asked but I know you are using a chemical means of birth control. No condom, IUD, jelly, cream or anything would stop what is going on with us. You have a barrier against me, a barricade so to speak. Something is in a frenzy to break it, to have us vulnerable to each other, vulnerable to danger and Death. Something is urging us uncontrollably to procreate and something else is trying just as forcefully and dangerously to stop that from happening by killing us. The tiniest of details disrupting destiny each time we almost met. That tiny thing kept diverting us, by ruining it for Destiny.




"If I had met you at the opening I would have known you, but we would have gotten to know each other a little slower, more socially. I have no doubt we would have been together, but in a more conventional way.


And I doubt we would have known what we know now in just these last 24 hours. And we would have had children without thinking about this and these forces propelling us and forbidding us, these avenging, dueling angels if you will. We just would never have known.


Perhaps we had children in the past? Maybe not. I think not. I think we died of this in the past. Many times. To keep us from procreating. But there would have been no transgression for us in New York City, that way. Everything would have proceeded naturally and normally. We might have lived at the edge of mainstream, but that would be it, just the edge, the avant garde. And I would have continued discovering my way through painting, and you might have continued to be a psychic. And we would have grown old together normally. No we would have died of this first, long before.




"But in that moment of Transgression our Doubles appeared. When the Double appears, then Death is by our side.


Only I think this time we fully know it. And that is our trial in this lifetime. We know more than we ever did before. Before we were just very willing victims. Unconscious. Unknowing. We have to protect each other this time.




"Your latest psychic endeavor is to distract you from the deep knowledge of who and what you are and what we are. It was exciting enough to do that. So was my painting. My success with it. My independence from the standard art world. Mary Boone helped me as she has been doing this for strange and singular artists for a long time now.




But oh my god, this is way out of my league.




Without that moment of Transgression in the hallway we would never have known.




And then I hushed and lost myself in her, entering her anew over and over, slow and slower, until my control slipped and I began to lose it again. I couldn't stop. I couldn't have stopped if the hotel burned down around us.

I was gone.
.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Twilight: Irresistible Destiny - Chapter 8 -


Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny

BPOV




We are taking a private gondola to the art show. The vaporetto would be a noisy beast now, and the age old swaying motion of the gondoliers, so proud of their inherited skill, create such a quiet time for lovers like us. Edward says there will just be some tourists there, not the crowd that was at the opening. In fact we may have it to ourselves at times.




"So why are you in Venice, Bella?"




"Hmmmm. Other than the real reason you mean. Well, I'm a psychic," I say. "An expensive one. My client wants me to go to Livorno. It used to be Leghorn, you know. Anyway she wants me to find which canal Modigliani threw his sculptures in."


"What!" He says. "You were sent here to do what!"




"What. You didn't know this?" I say.


"No. We're talking about millions and millions of dollars here."




"I suppose so. All as a result of a major temper tantrum."




"Tell me the story."



Modigliani's Birthplace  - Leghorn
"Modigliani came from a wealthy privileged family in Livorno. He went to Paris to continue his art there because Livorno was so staid, so normal, so, well, you know. And Paris was the center of it all then. He drank a lot, used drugs a lot, but still he painted a lot. Then he became interested in sculpture. He didn't have any money so he used the cheap sandstone that was available in Paris, but it was soft, dusty and he already coughed a lot. He was on his way to tuberculosis even then. So it made him sick to use the sandstone. There's one of his sandstone carytids on the steps at the Barnes foundation in Merion. Have you seen it?"




"I have."




"I would bet all the canals in Venice that we just missed each other there."




Modigliani Drawing -  Museum Modern Art 1914
"Yes. I was supposed to go one day. I had the appointment. But something happened, I forget what, and I had to reschedule. I would not be surprised if you were there the day I was supposed to be there and couldn't go. Continue", he ordered with a smile.



I am imagining what would have happened if we had met at the Barnes. The beautiful grounds, the incredible aura of the place. I'm looking at him and I forget everything I was saying. My breathing hitches. The gondola is hitting choppy waters here and I don't dare move and rock the boat. The water is filthy.



"I forget what I was talking about."




"You were telling me about Modigliani."




"Oh," I said. "Yes. Yes I was. Now I remember."




Modigliani Drawing - Barnes(?) 1914 
I continue. "So he decided to pay his family a visit, go home, and use the wonderful and cheap marble they had in Livorno, Leghorn then, and spend the summer making sculptures out of it. He did. And they must have been lovely, breathlessly beautiful. At the end of the summer he gave a show of his work. It was laughed at, ridiculed, denounced, trashed. Just like Albert Barnes's collection. He was so furious he got a wheelbarrow, piled them in and went to the canal and dumped them. Very impulsive. Really a major temper tantrum as I said. And then he went back to Paris, drank, did drugs, made art and
died."




"And they are still there? I can't believe that."




"Well, it's very silty mud, and it's been so long, they figure that during the bombing in World War II they were buried so deeply by then that they were covered with it and protected. But this bit of information is in a biography that's not very academic, and no one reads it because it was written for a popular reading audience, so no one has looked for them.




"Besides the Italian government would never allow them to leave the country, which would make it difficult to make a fortune on them. Difficult, but not impossible and I think that's what my client has plans to do. But she can't go digging around a bunch of canals because then she would be above the radar. If she can precisely locate them, then she can pretend to be doing something else as she digs them up. Once they are out of the country they can be, you know, found somewhere, hidden in a barn or something, just waiting to be discovered by someone who happens by.




It's a creative plan if she can pull it off. So I am supposed to intuit where he dumped them. But I'm in Venice because I thought as long as I was so close, I might as well see it. And Alice wanted me to look at the art show, so that's why I'm here."




"But I know why I'm really here," she said darkly.




He looks at me in disbelief. Astonishment.




"I will go with you."




"Yes, I already know that you will. What point would there be to separate."
And I stop talking and just gaze at him without thinking of anything at all. I'm just looking and breathing, just looking and breathing. That's all.




I am beginning to tremble again, but now it's deep inside me.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Irresistible Destiny - Chapter 6 - Alterity



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny

"If she had not had too many beers. If she had been listening to a different radio station. If he had not been on the road in the wrong place at the wrong time. The fatal crash was the sum of an infinite series of "ifs," tracing back to if life had never evolved on Earth in the first place. In our lives, we surf the wave of chance."

Chapter 6: Alterity
BPOV 6
I talk to him knowing that I am his for eternity, so I am not concerned or distracted by his aggressive obsession, his obsessive aggression. He will realize soon enough what I already intuitively know. We are here for each other in this lifetime, and for forever. It has already been decided long long ago and nothing we can do will change that. I cannot leave him and he cannot lose me. We are joined.

"I saw a movie just before I left. Another Earth written and acted and directed and edited by two people whom I suspect are in love. Shoestring production and it just won at Sundance, the jury prize and the Sloan prize with no fanfare at all when it arrived."

I continue. "A girl has just won a prestigious chance to study astrophysics at MIT and she is wildly celebrating, drinking too much.

"She drives home and on the car radio hears that Another Earth has appeared in the sky. She leans out the car window to see and glimpses it, running a red light, crashing into another car, and killing a woman and child.

"Getting out of prison four years later the man in the car, the husband, has recently come out of his long coma. He was a musician, a professor of music and now is a recluse. She is tortured by guilt and we see that no prison term or societal punishment has any effect except perhaps to give the person a long time to think, when they are not protecting themselves from the aggression in the prison.

"She feels drawn to the man, searches him out, and offers to clean for him. He is living in white trash squalor, drinking himself into an oval oblivion.

"The reviewer Ebert says this. Listen because I memorize too without knowing why":
If she had not had too many beers. If she had been listening to a different radio station. If he had not been on the road in the wrong place at the wrong time. The fatal crash was the sum of an infinite series of 'ifs,' tracing back to if life had never evolved on Earth in the first place. In our lives, we surf the wave of chance.


"And she offers to clean for him. She has a job cleaning at the local school after hours. I guess the psychologists would say she was debasing herself, punishing herself by working a menial job. I see it differently. There is no amount of cleaning that will ever clean her soul for what she did in her carelessness.

"She begins to clean for him. She orders his house. He stops boozing; she becomes lighter, and almost happy sometimes. He begins to play music again. But all the time she knows who she is and knows he does not know who she is. She enters a contest to be the first to visit this other earth.

"She tells him a story of the first cosmonaut who is on the space station. He hears a sound of dripping, but it's not liquid. It is more metallic but regular and relentless like a drop of water. The way they do it to torture you and drive you mad. Those stories. He searches all over the space capsule but he cannot find it, he cannot stop it. He knows he has 47 more days to listen to it and he knows he will go mad long before that. And then he knows how to escape madness.

"He needs to fall in love with the sound.


"He falls in love with the sound, listens to it intently, it turns to music and he listens to the music in rapture for the rest of his time up there in the capsule.

"And we see the musician later giving her a solitary concert in an auditorium where he plays a saw. A real musician really does this, by the way, and the filmmakers had the musician in the film really learn. A while ago he had seen her cleaning, saw her pick up the saw and bend it and listen to it.

"Do you know there are ants that take caterpillars into their nest?"

Edward raises one eyebrow in disbelief at me. I continue.

"They have liquor on their fur, and the ants drink it and get drunk. But why must they take the insects into their nest? And then someone thought to record with boosted intensity inside the nest. As the caterpillars were stroked for the liquor, they made music. It was the music the ants craved to keep with them.

"Isn't that beautiful. I know because once when I was high, I did something like that. It was night and summer and there were mosquitoes in my cabin near the woods. Pesky creatures that drive you crazy. But this night I felt one at my ear buzzing and instead of swatting it I waited - as I have been waiting for you – to see what it would do. It crawled down in my ear and I let it."

He is listening quietly to me.

"And then you can't imagine! A million violins were in my ear and the music was like no symphony I have ever heard!

"And I don't remember how long I listened. Or fell asleep, or whether I passed out or what.

"Back to Rhoda and the story. She has won the contest. He begs her not to go. He cannot bear to lose her. So she tells him a story about a girl. She is the girl.

"He begins to realize who she is and as she tells him she has made him happy but he has made her happy too, he leaps up and begins to strangle her. They have already violently kissed and made love before this. Not unlike us. But now he wants to kill her for ruining his life. So she runs out and escapes and he lets her.

"And this other earth is our mirror. There are Borges mirror people living there, and they are us. They are our doubles.

"Just as who I was before tonight is drifting away now and my Double has emerged with you. She wants to see her Double. The woman she would be if she hadn't killed her lover's family.

"And the last scene is: she sees herself dressed in a nice coat with high leather boots with heels looking back at her in her bunchy made for practicality coat, hat, gloves. And they just stare at each other.

"Why am I saying this to you. That's not a question. Why am I telling you this story. Destiny arranged all of it. The party, her drinking, the crash, the death of his wife and child, his coma while she is in prison, her seeking him out, his permitting her into his life, their passionate embrace, and her journey to Another Earth.

"All of it planned to the tiniest detail."

"Why are you here in Venice?"