The Labyrinth of Passion (romantic experiences)

by Charles Westmont

  Qué quequoy oqua!

  It was just after noon in Bergerac, the sun shone with unusual force on this mid-February winter’s day. The clinic windows were open wide and the bright sunshine painted the room with a special glow. Catherine, feeling the sun’s warm rays on her body, sat in her bed, ready to give birth. It was her second child, but somehow, she felt that she was living a new experience. Two years before, she had been quite fearful with the anticipation of Mimi’s arrival. This time, she felt enveloped and protected by a warm and peaceful cloud. She felt good. She felt the comfort of a mild elation throughout her body. The old doctor was at her side, encouraging her. “It will be very soon, Catherine, I can feel the baby wanting out.”

  The sunrays had turned and were striking at Catherine’s pulsing loin. The room was filled with a blinding light. Catherine felt a sharp bolt of pain tearing at her groin. The pain left her and in the space of an instant she felt peaceful again. She saw herself floating in the light. The man and the woman that she had envisioned in her dream, were floating in the sun ray. They were smiling at her. The beautiful white horse came riding, on its head stood a bird of crimson, on his back a monkey holding a cat in its arms. The animals were bowing at her and she heard the man’s voice in the depth of her soul “Of all times, her name is Justine, the flesh and soul of Isis and Osiris.”

  With the baby’s sharp cry, she came to her senses. She let herself fall back on her pillow in complete exhaustion. “Qué quequoy oqua! What a beautiful girl!” the doctor beamed, in an exclamation, in the ancient ‘langue doye’ dialect. He held the little girl’s long wiry body.

  Catherine turned when the door opened. “Mister Mayor!” Catherine exclaimed looking disappointed. “I am sorry, Jean Charles, I expected Wilson.” The Mayor came to her side. “I heard his plane landing, he should be here soon.” He then turned to the baby, saying “What a beautiful baby. She looks as if she is observing us, with these wide opened blue eyes. Quite unusual for a child at birth.” The Mayor’s face was taken by a serious frown, “Catherine, in the name of the long friendship between our families, would you honor me with being her godfather?” Catherine looked amused. “It is you, dear Jean Charles, who honors us with your request. By all means, you are the godfather of our little Justine.” She was surprised at herself, for it seemed that she heard and said her name for the first time. “Let us pray that she will need more of your love and less of your drugs,” she said laughingly at the Mayor pharmacist.

  Wilson came in, followed by Mamie and Victor. The grandparents had been waiting for his arrival in the hall. They came to her with broad smiles. Mamie picked up little Justine. After a few minutes of congratulations, the doctor invited everyone to leave. “Catherine must regain her strength quickly.” Wilson took the baby from Mamie’s arms. For the first time, Justine began to cry. He replaced Justine beside her mother. “Well done, darling!” and he left without another word.

  Chapter 4 - The apprenticeship of Justine

  “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.”

  - William Yeats

  Justine’s education

  Justine had grown into a sweet little blonde doll. In the morning, Tutu the Algerian maid would awaken her. Mimi would already be sitting at the breakfast table. Tutu was always present to oversee their play. She was not very articulate, but the attentions from her generous heart always made Justine feel good. On a few evenings each week, Maman would arrive from work to share a delicious couscous. Tutu would leave to return in the morning.

  Catherine, all day long at work, anticipated the special private evening moments with the girls. After dinner, they would undress and take a bath. Catherine would then sit with them on the white carpet and review and attend every part of their body. There were creams, oils, ointments; the nails of hands and feet were trimmed and filed, the hair was brushed.

  Victor took many afternoons away from his supply business to be with his little angel, his favorite granddaughter, Justine. He would take her to the park to play, they would take long walks along the river bank. She especially enjoyed the walks through the city’s numerous gardens. Victor would patiently explain to Justine the special character of each flower. “You see my little angel,” he would begin, “The flowers are for the plants, just like your face is a representation of your soul.” Justine would look at him with her deep blue eyes, “But Pappie, there are so many flowers and they are so different.” Victor would take her little hand, “Each flower, just like people, is unique and different from the other. You must remember that flowers, like animals and everything you see and touch in nature, must be handled with great care and love. Their life and their beauty depend on your gentle attention.”

  Justine could not get enough of her grandfather’ attention. Most afternoons, she would wait patiently on the porch for his arrival. When he turned the corner down the street, she would run to his arms and kiss him. With every meeting, his words would awaken her heart with a passion for life and everything around her. These same words had been carved and imprinted in her soul such a long time ago. She would spend her life giving love to all the flowers, all the animals and all the people who would be blessed to share with her.

  All these experiences had prepared her entry to school. From the first day, she became an assiduous and attentive student. She had a craving for knowledge and marveled at everything that she learned. For this reason, she excelled in every subject. Very early in her youth, she was attracted by Maman playing the violin. In the evening after hearing the first note, she would run to her room and sit at her side, letting the notes travel with her dreams. Later, Maman would take her in her arms and bring her to bed, sound asleep, Maman recognized Justine’s early fascination for music. Very soon, she was sitting on the piano bench next to Mamie Hélène, filling herself with the mellow notes of Mata Althery’s French operetta music. Justine began piano lessons. As with everything she undertook, she gave herself wholeheartedly to the task and became a proficient pianist at a very young age.

  After a few years in school, she had grown into a tall girl, overtaking her classmates by a head. It made her feel awkward and sometimes, she would come home crying at the mean comments of the other children. Within a few years, many of the boys had grown to reach her height and became even taller. She began to notice their shy looks in her direction. It was amusing to her, that as soon as her eyes would meet theirs, they would quickly turn away, blushing.

  One day, she was quite embarrassed when she caught a boy observing her legs and thighs under the pulpit. She was stunned, and instinctively crossed her long legs and the boy looked away. Somehow however, his curiosity did not annoy her. “Not that I would encourage it, she thought, and yet...but… is he ever good looking!” She blushed at the thought.

  The next day at the library, she stood behind a screen when she heard the boys’ conversations. “Wow! You must see the petal showing out of her undies,” one boy was saying. “We have to be careful when we are looking at her, or she will keep her legs crossed.” She left the library smiling to herself.

  The next day, she sat at her pulpit with her legs crossed at first. Then, she would purposely split her thighs slightly and turn her head away. The boys would furtively begin observing her. She would keep her legs closed for a few days and take pleasure at the disappointed faces during recess. Other days, she would open her thighs wider and even pull her undies on the side to reveal more germe.

  Justine was becoming addicted to the little game that made her feel so excited. Her performance was so perfectly innocent, that the boys never realized that she was intentionally enticing them. As a matter of fact, they became more and more courteous and attentive to her. For her part, she was innocently awakening in her soul the unique and fulfilling pleasure of attraction and of being attractive.

  Yvette

  It was a balmy late summer afternoon, one could feel that rain was on the way. Justine was in the garden with her sister. “Well Justine! I thought t
hat you would help with the picking of apples. Remember, we promised Mamie enough fruits for her pies. She will soon be here to collect them.” Justine was observing the girl peeking at them through the fence. “I am coming, Mimi.” She climbed on the branch of the apple tree.

  Yvette, the girl next door, was the same age as Mimi, yet she had learning disabilities, so was in Justine’s class. She had repeated grade three twice already. But while a bit naïve, she was pleasant. Justine would invite her to play on occasion.

  She turned and Yvette was still at the fence, her large dark eyes begging for an invitation to join the sisters. “Mimi! Yvette is craving to join us.” Mimi was coming down the tree, satisfied with her quite full bag of apples. Justine jumped down like a feline and shook her long blonde hair. She was already much taller than her older sister, despite the two years’ age difference. “Ok! Yvette,” she called, “Run with us to the house, rain is starting to fall. “Thank you girls,” said Mamie Hélène, leaving for the kitchen with the bag of apples. You have earned a large piece of pie for dessert tonight.”

  Mimi turned toward the two girls. “I think it will be a boring afternoon with that rain, what should we do?” and without waiting for an answer, she continued, “Let’s play doctor!” They ran upstairs to Mimi’s room. “I will be the doctor, Justine you are my nurse and Yvette, you are the patient.” Mimi and her sister eased Yvette on the bed. Mimi put on a pair of daddy’s reading glasses, and the two girls slipped into Tutu’s white tunics. “Dear Madame,” Mimi said to Yvette, “let us diagnose the problem.”

  Yvette was happy, receiving so much attention. “Well nurse,” Mimi said, “I think we have one of these female problems. Justine, you remember Tutu’s explanation, when you began your menstrual cycle last month. Help me undress the patient, we better have a closer look.” Mimi turned to Yvette who would not stop giggling. “Have no fear my dear patient, we will fix this problem.” The two sisters proceeded to undress Yvette. She was completely naked, her hands covering her private parts. “You can close your eyes Yvette.”

  Justine was beginning to feel a little embarrassment. She knew that these two large black eyes were reading her mind. When Mimi placed Yvette’s hands to her side, Justine felt a tingling of excitement reach her stomach. Just last week, when she was washing, the warm sponge was sprinkling water on her vagina. It had felt very good. The night before she had remained in the bath, caressing herself with the sponge and feeling great, until Maman had knocked on the door.

  She looked at Yvette, at her little breasts and pink nipples, “Keep your eyes closed,” Justine ordered. She began massaging Yvette’s breasts with the palm of her hands. The sensation was that of soft satin. Combined with Yvette’s mild moaning, she found that she was becoming more and more stimulated. A louder murmur, erupting from Yvette pulled her out of daydream. Yvette kept her eyes shut tight, but she was betrayed by her body, which was revealing her approach to seventh heaven. Justine observed the doctor, when she separated the lips of Yvette’s pulsing little mound. “Justine I think we found the problem. This mess has to be cleaned promptly. Fetch a warm sponge, but no soap.” Justine knew better that using soap and she could not hide a culprit’s smile, thinking of the previous evening. She came back from the bathroom with the sponge. “Start washing, I will keep it open.” Expertly, Justine began surfing the pink flesh, held wide open for her.

  With every move, she shared Yvette’s pleasure. Mimi did not appear to suffer either. Justine could not miss her sister’s lower tummy polishing the brass bedpost. For long minutes, she maintained her sanitary operation. “Justine move aside please.” and Mimi brought her face over Yvette’s begging vagina. To Justine’s surprise, Mimi began kissing and licking gently inside the little pussy. Justine felt a little revulsion and turned towards Yvette’s face. She had opened her eyes wide. Her face was glowing with pleasure. Yvette grabbed Mimi by the hair and began pressing her face on her vagina when she exploded from pleasure. There was a knock on the door. “Girls are you inside?” In a panic, Yvette ran to the bathroom and Mimi answered. “Coming Tutu! we will see you downstairs for our afternoon snack. Yvette will join us.”

  That night, Justine sat on Mimi’s bedside. “I meant to ask, didn’t that vagina smell and taste like pee? How could you do such a disgusting thing?” Mimi smiled pompously at her sister. “Quite the contrary, my dear sister, I used to have the same thoughts. But last month, I watched a video that father had inadvertently left on the TV stand. You should have seen these people going at each other. The women were sucking the man’s penis and they were licking them between their thighs and even their rectum. Even the women were sucking and licking each other everywhere. You saw how much our little friend enjoyed the experience. So no, Justine, it did not smell or taste like pee.”

  The next day in class, Yvette came to sit beside Justine. She seemed more at ease than ever before. They remained friends for a time. On a few occasions at Yvette’s pressing request, Justine accepted to cuddle in bed with her friend. She experienced sucking and licking Yvette, but by far preferred being the object of her attention. In the end, she realized making love to women was not for her.

  Mimi’s story about father and the video was another matter that awoke new passions within her loin. One night while lying awake in bed, she caught herself daydreaming, sucking her thumb. She was thinking of her father. This morning she had seen him coming out of the bathroom when his towel dropped to the floor leaving him naked in front of her. He walked past her without a word, as he always did. He never paid attention to her. She had seen his penis balancing between his thighs. It looked large, gruesome, disgusting and yet so troubling to her.

  A few evenings later, she was invaded by mixed feelings about the shocking morning encounter with her father that had not left her thoughts since. She was quite annoyed that she could not chase the thoughts of him from her mind. He was always so rude, ignoring her completely. But did he not always ignore her? All her life, he had passed her by, never acknowledging her presence, her existence. Yet…she missed him. Why would she miss him so much? He was not a kind or gentle man. As far back as she could remember, he was terribly unpleasant to Maman, although he rarely raised his voice in the presence of the children. At night however, their aggressive conversation would sometime awaken her from sleep. The muffled words heard through the floor of the old house would pierce her heart like poisoned darts. She could not remember any instances when her parents would smile together. Yet, she still longed for his attention. “I would accept all the humiliations, if he would only talk to me, hold me in his arms.” Deep in her thoughts, she wiped away a tear.

  “Maybe he would like me to suck his penis, like the woman that he watched on the video?” She felt her body freeze that she could have had such a thought. Yet, she felt so aroused and she could not suppress the thought anymore. In her mind she was sucking his penis and it felt disgusting but so good. She felt the tingling and the craving in her loin. She saw herself crouching under the bathroom sink. She would gently remove his towel and begin fondling his organ in her hands. He would continue shaving, not paying the least attention to her maneuver. She would bring his swelling penis to her lips. Her tongue would travel so softly on the length of his erection. She would lick a pearl of the dripping dew and take the head in her mouth, sucking… her thumb gently. She was in a deep sleep.

  In her dream, she met a beautiful woman who looked very much like her. She had blue eyes, long blonde hair and a golden complexion. She was however quite a bit older. The woman came in front of her, taking her hands in hers and said, “Justine you are the mistress of the God Osiris, the all-powerful will come to you. You are preparing your heart, your body and your mind to enter the haven of great passion, which will soon consume your body and your soul. Until then, you will be served and serviced by the men and women that you will encounter in your pilgrimage over the world. Opening your soul, your heart and your body, you will receive their gifts and their passion. Although humans are i
mperfect, they will help develop your divine attributes and help you recover your status as the marvelous mistress of the God. One day soon, Osiris will come into your life and make you his. You will be his servant and he will be yours. Your love will return from the millenniums and make you everything to each other. You will burn from the fire of love and passion just like the brightest of stars.”

  Piano and history

  Justine’s piano lessons were bringing additional dividends. Christian, a colleague in her music class, had developed a unique pianistic dexterity, approaching the skills of a virtuoso. She found his interpretation of Chopin’s Grande Polonaise fascinating, but her fascination went beyond the notes. The more often she saw him, she became restless and eager to get closer and closer to him. She would sit next to Christian for his entire practice that somehow seemed to fade in brief minutes. She would sit on the bench turning the pages, while he repeated. Christian did not appear to take notice of the intensity of her assiduities. At first, she figured that it was an innate male characteristic. She had experienced the same disregard from her father on so many occasions. She persisted nevertheless, her heart filled with hope.

  One evening, Christian invited her to his home. Justine’s mother was quite comfortable with the visit, since Christian’s father was her daughter’s professor of history. The father insisted that she stay for diner, offering to confirm permission with her parents. They sat at the table and Christian moved across from her. She became quite involved in a conversation with the father. She found Christian growing less and less attentive to her. After dessert, Christian offered politely to take her home, but his father insisted that he would take her home personally. Christian left for his room, muttering an indifferent goodnight.