murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

"No, I guess not. It's complicated, and I, kind of, don't think I could
explain it very well."
"That's OK. You don't have to explain anything," said Midori. "But do
you mind if I tell you what I imagine is going on?"
"No, go ahead. I suspect anything you'd imagine would have to be
interesting."
"I think she's a married woman."
"You do?"
"Yeah, she's thirty-two or -three and she's rich and beautiful and she
wears fur coats and Charles Jourdan shoes and silk underwear and
she's hungry for sex and she likes to do really yucky things. The two
of you meet on weekday afternoons and devour each other's bodies.
But her husband's home on Sundays, so she can't see you. Am I
right?"
"Very, very interesting."
"She has you tie her up and blindfold her and lick every square inch of
her body. Then she makes you put weird things inside her and she gets
into these incredible positions like a contortionist and you take
pictures of her with a Polaroid camera."
"Sounds like fun."
"She's dying for it all the time, so she does everything she can think
of. And she thinks about it every day. She's got nothing but free time,
so she's always planning: Hmm, next time Watanabe comes, we'll do
this, or we'll do that. You get in bed and she goes crazy, trying all
these positions and coming three times in each one. And she says to
you, "Don't I have a sensational body? You can't be satisfied with
young girls any more. Young girls won't do this for you, will they? Or
this. Feel good? But don't come yet!"'
"You've watched too many porno movies," I said with a laugh.
"You think so? I was kind of worried about that. But I love
porn films. Take me to one next time, OK?"
"Fine," I said. "Next time you're free."
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