Italian English
Venerdì, 05 Marzo 2004 21:53

Luana (Original translation by Lady Macbeth)

Scritto da  vince
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...Well, he nearly invited me and I decided. I noticed immediately that he was close to me, very close for the usual distance when you try your shoes on…He took my feet in his hands and he lingered too much …and his nose was on my fingers: I smiled inside myself and I was pleasantly astonished…

Luana’s voice. Warm. Sunny. Just like the colours of the streets of the South. Our streets.
Did you really like my site, Vince? What especially?
It is easy to say. Elegance, good taste, sobriety. The care about the details. The opening quotation can be traced back to the Red Hot Chili Peppers’rough ballads. And a lot of other things. Far, mysterious as Luana’s eyes. I was impressed by that, looking into her site. With an initial wariness. Fast food, but why? Something quick? But wariness disappeared when I met her glance on the other side of the net. Just before her feet. Unforgettable. In the white and in the black of a summer in the South.

***

And of another summer. Maybe two hundreds years ago. In Seville. Posing for one of Goya’s pictures.

***

...by the way, you sit in that chair
I can tell your feet are like animals...

Your feet are like animals

...though...

Though

...the rest of you be human...

The rest of you is human
Human? Perhaps more than this.

***

- Hi Lou: what about your dinner?
We are speaking about ravioli at the artichokes. Omelette with aparagus. Cheese. Avocado. Wine: Coda di volpe.
I chose Rubycon by the “Tangerine Dreams” for the mysterious Luana by the sensuous voice.

***

I listen her speaking.
Do you know, Vince, that the people who comes in contact with me describes exactly his ideals of beauty about feet?
I can argue.
- Yours are wonderful, Lou Yet, I think feet are the source of longing independently from their beauty. I stopped in your site, I met your glance and I would like to know how your feet were. For your eyes, Lou.
The notes of Rubycon in the night.
- Hum… Your sentence sounds strange in comparison with the letters I receive… Come on, Vince, are you trying to flatter me?
- Not at all, Lou.
- It’s true to me, Vince. To me it is like that too. At the beginning, in the first sites, I lingered on the pics of the feet Later I understood they were nonsense, they were separated and lifeless parts if they were not associated to a face, to a glance, to a smile. So doing they get back to life. And they get their unity back.
Luana’s hot voice. The night. The notes of the Tangerine Dream.

***

- What do you think of us who are looking at your feet, Lou?
- Hey, what a nice question! Curiosity, anguish. And yet a strong sense of exibitionism. I think they belong to different categories. I don’t think the visitors of my site have got the same drive. It is a kind of introspective feticism, an individual and always different experience. I think they excite themselves on a sexual level and on a psychological one. The two things together.
Yes, Lou. Women’s feet, the dominion.

***

...He knew the range of the things which excited him, but only on certain circumstances they became the most hateful to do. To cut the nails of her feet, when they were dirty, just a moment after when she did one of her humiliating control calls. Or when she was speaking to one of the people he knew and checked what he had referred to her. Masturbating in front of her at lunch or dinner time, then eating on his kneels and at every morsel he had to take off her slippers, to kiss her soles and put them on again.
She didn’t invent these exercises: they were always born from their speeches and from their intimacy on their wish. From the most secret corners that let their wishes come true...


***

It’s one of your stories, Vince, isn’t true? The Fire? It’s very interesting. It reminds me Lynch…
- You must use your wish just like a pentagram, Lou.
- That happens very often…don’t you think so?. Briefly S/M is but the celebration of reality, of the daily routine, don’t you think so?
- …For this reason she appeals so much. Women, their fantasy of dominion. Dangerous. Their fancies are interesting for men, but they didn’t realize how the roles change, and how more difficult and suffering is now the dominant role. The responsibility of being creative and of giving to her/his own slave, and of answering the people who surrounds fully to you. The dominant role is the most complaisant, the one that gives pleasure because you can invent and mould as you like.

***

…You look at my eyes and you can’t help from spying my swinging sabots…
- This never occurred to me…I mean in my life…That is to say to realize that someone is giving a look or is watching my feet. I never lived such an experience. For this reason too, I keep distance from the “visitors, can’t fully understand their inner thoughts…

***

I remind that very day when, without any hesitation, after he drove me back home I let you mouth kiss my feet…

***

Did you find out by yourself that feet might be the source of longing or it was someone else who introduced you to it?
- Uhm… Some time ago a people who saw one of my photos at the seaside in summer. It was very beautiful. I was tanny. A wonderful photo: he looked at him for long. I thought he was appreciating my radiance. Really he was attracted by my feet, as he told me after. He said they were the most beautiful feet he had ever seen. This flattered me, but it sounded strange at the same time. Yet, I began to make experiments with other people. Of course, I couldn’t get the same thrill with some, but with others…Since then I proposed that part of my body…that it was never spied or peeped…Later when I got surer I started to use my feet. I had understood the charme that they can have on some people. Even some people beyond suspicion are united by a common denominator. A mysterious and ancient worshipping. Old and childish, perverted and adult, at the same time innocent and corrupted, desired or uncontrollable, the source of shame and pleasure. Now, I’m examining the matter more accurately I confirm my theory about it. They are a lot, really a lot of people. Some will never admit, frustrated by their education on what a safe sexual life is, and, above all, on what a normal one is for ages. Nowadays the word normal scares some, don’t you think so? Why? What does it mean, Lou?

***

…I see your glance, it becomes bright, do you feel the energy gathering inside me, anxious to blow up? How can you do that? Do you guess, maybe, from the imperceptible swinging of my foot you are watching with an adoring look?…

***

It occurred to me to see in the eyes of a man caressing my feet the same adolescent look of the boys giving the first kisses…They are full of gratitude and secret hopes: it is a unique sensation…

***

…I can’t help but wondering whatever you found so exciting in that deed you were acting so devoutedly and passionately…

***

- Today I’m wearing brown leather boots: but it’s rather hot, isn’t it? Maybe it is the time to wear sandals… violet sandals.
- Violet sandals? Maybe. Have you ever worn boots on the bare skin ?
- Do you mean purposely? To feel the naked feet in strict contact with the leather? Sometimes and effecteviley it is a pleasant sensation.

***

…Thinking of her naked skin inside her boots. Fancing about the Mistress’s feet, her weight on him, of her strong tastes carried him on an unreal dimension where he moved when he lived with her in symbiosis.

***

- A book. “The perfume”
Oh yes, I know it, Patrick Suskind’s. A perfume able to conquer the souls…
- Well… I think you know the relationship between the feet and the smells…Very often the authors tell stories about excitement and smells. The submission through them. What is your relation with all this?
- Very childish…nearly Proustian, if you like. The smells, above all the ones of the body, remind me the first drives when a little girl. The relation I had with my body, with my same smells changing as time goes by…

***

He began to put off her leather boots using only his tongue. Slowly. His tongue a little under her knee and then lower and lower, to lever between the bare heel and the leather of the boot and then farther more toward her fingers… among her fingers.

***

I would like someone to look after my feet as the Eastern people do…It occurred to me very few in mylife, but I adore it…Washing, drying, rubbing them with perfumed oils. And then to take care of the snails, the enamel…
I’m sure a lot of men would like to get specialised in the Eastern pedicure, Lou. But let’s change matter. A little ice…
- Tell three book you liked most.
- Uhm…only three? Well “Life in front of you” by Emil Ajar, “Black Dhalia” by James Ellroy. “Wait for the spring, Bandini” by Joe Fante…

***

I can tell your feet
are like animals...


***

- Some time ago I had a strange relationship with my feet. Yes, I didn’t look after them much, I showed them not properly and unconsciously. Later, when I realized what they might mean, I developed an unusual decency, a kind of renewed virginity that made myself to hide them… Nearly to accomplish my nakedness, if I showed them. For instance, at the seaside, when a girl I used to conceal them under the sand, on the contrary I wore a teenager bikini. And now the process fulfilled… Speaking about them, sometimes, showing them, having them touched… But everything must happen on very special occasions, as a pledge of love. We needn’t be rhetorical… They are an important aspect of my sensousness, not to everybody, and yet someone can be jealous… They must be able, I mean… I think they are a part of my womanhood.

***

He didn’t know Nathalie’s smell. He had dreamt it. She had wanted him to dream about it for hours. A painful pledge just like others. Writing for her. A different letter for every hour. Different matters. An only common element. The Mistress. Nathalie. The worshipping. She called it tip. The buzz of the phone became her music.

***

Yes, I got it… Well, at the beginning I took a particular care to the smell of my feet: they had to send out no smell. I humiliated them with cream and long massages, carbon insoles and other things… And one day I understood thanks to a sentence of one of my dearest friends..He told me that the man is attracted by non-smelling perfumes… they cover the natural smell of the body (not the disgusting odour). All the smells wake the female charme and so for my feet. He let me understood, he appreciated them...and now they must be tired, sweat and so they live without hiding their smell. I love walking barefoot on the wood and later I smell the wood under them…
- Ice. Three films, Lou.
- Come on, Vince. Three? You are really perverted. I’ll try. “Blue Velvet” by Lynch; “Leolo” by Claude Leuzon; “The Tin Drum” by Schlondorff...
- “The Tin Drum”? Why the film and not the book?
- My God, Vince, it’s your fault. You insist with three!!
- And now for the music…
- Ok, stop with three… Aphex Twin, David Sylvian e David Bowie...are you happy now?
- Not at all! And where are the Rolling Stones?
- Ah, ah…I love the Beatles. My favourite song is “ A day in the life”

Somebody spoke
and I went into a dream
I read the news today...


***

Oh Lou, wait for a while…If I forgot this I would have never forgiven me…what about your favourite shoes?
- Ah,ah, Vince, you ran a risk…I’ll tell you: no heeled summer flip-flop, but I love the sandals à la mode of the slave, the ones that coil under the knee…Well …it occurred to me a fact: shall I tell you what happened to me some time ago? It is linked to my shoes and your questions about the smells…
- I’m listening at you carefully.
- Well, I was in a shoe shop. There was a shop assistant, a very careful one…I had walked all the day with my trainers and my feet weren’t very perfumed…In fact I was a little embarassed, unsure to show them naked …and particularly in front of a man…You know woman’s privacy…He saw me uncertain, perhaps he understood, I don’t know..Well, he nearly invited me and I decided. I noticed immediately that he was close to me, very close for the usual distance when you try your shoes on…He took my feet in his hands and he lingered too much …and his nose was on my fingers: I smiled inside myself and I was pleasantly astonished…
- Did you take your feet backward?
- No, I liked it a lot…
- And did you say a word?
- You’re really curious, Vince… Well, yes… I watched him in his eyes while going away. I smiled at him and thanked him. He blushed…
- It isn’t unusual..I dare say…
Perhaps he had an orgasm, Lou...
- Come on, Vince. I don’t think so: being unable to be self-controlled would be a problem with his work, don’t you think so?… Think of consequences… He would get back home sapless: at home, probably, there is a woman… and he is unable to take care of her feet...
Maybe it is true, but who knows?
- Bye, Luana, I ‘m sure the people of Tribune will choose the noble job of being a shop
assistant,now. Call on us soon, Luana.
- Sure, Vince: it’s a promise. And now good luck for your novel.
Letto 2785 volte Ultima modifica il Mercoledì, 23 Maggio 2012 12:45
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