La Suite by M. P. Franck Page A

else?”
    “All I can tell
you is how Jérôme explained it to me. I didn’t understand it at
first, either. Later on, I did.”
    “So, what did
he say?”
    “First you have
to know that for Jérôme and me, our relationship was never about
possession. We were together by choice and neither of us controlled
the other. When he and I were having sex together, we were both
deep in our own sensations. Of course, we were trying to give
pleasure to each other, but essentially, we were responsible for
our own orgasms. Clear so far?” Gaëlle asked.
    When Gabi
nodded, she went on, “On those occasions when Jérôme watched me,
or, much less often, when I had the chance to watch him with
another person or other people, we were able to give all our
concentration to what we were seeing. It’s quite amazing to be a
passive observer. The person that you love with a burning passion
is in the grip of sexual ecstasy, almost totally out of control,
and you are watching that happen. You have to love them very much
to appreciate it.” Gaëlle shivered. “Just to talk about it makes me
quite faint,” she admitted. “Words can’t really do justice to the
power of the feelings at moments like those.”
    “I don’t think
I’ve ever felt so strongly about anyone, certainly not as much as
that,” Gabi said. “Sex for me has been mostly fun. What you’re
describing is almost a mystical experience.”
    “Mystical? Not
when it made my whole body feel so breathtakingly alive, so
erotically charged!”
    “But it’s far
more than just fun, is what I meant,” Gabi said. “I can see the
goose bumps on your skin right now, so when it’s happening, it has
to be overwhelming.”
    “That’s it!
It’s a tidal wave that grabs you, bowls you over and over and lets
you know just how helpless you are against it. Whoo!” Gaëlle blew
her cheeks out, hard. “Give me a moment, Gabi. I need to get my
breath back.”
    Gabi glanced at
her watch.
    “Maybe we
should leave it there for now, Gaëlle. I also need time to think
about what you’ve said. I’m trembling too, and I wouldn’t like to
disgrace myself by saying or doing something stupid.”
    “You’re
probably right. I haven’t talked like this for a long time, and
only ever really with Jérôme.”
    When Gabi had
left, Gaëlle sat for a moment on the sofa. Telling the story of her
life with Jérôme had left her feeling wrung out like an old floor
cloth. But it had been cathartic, too, she realised. She’d been
able to talk about Jérôme, and about sex, without the shattering
feeling of loss that had dominated her life for almost a year. She
went to bed, brought herself to a shuddering orgasm, and slept
soundly.
     
    From Gaëlle’s
Journal
     
    It was quite
exhausting telling Gabi about Jérôme and me yesterday. And I
haven’t got to some of the more extreme experiences yet. My life is
changing, or perhaps is beginning again. I find myself thinking
about sex in a way that I haven’t since I lost Jérôme. I’ve
certainly had more orgasms in the past few weeks than in the
previous year.
    There seem to
be several strands in my life at present that are all leading
me—back?—towards different forms of sexual exploration. First, I
can envisage exploring the pumping thing further, with Odile and
Barbara. Somewhere among her pump attachments, there has to be the
one that Vivienne used on me, one that will make my whole sex swell
up, not just my clitoris. Jérôme said it was very erotic and I’d
like to remind myself of what he saw on that occasion. Then,
there’s Gabi and the telling. That may lead to something happening
with her. Finally, I’m tempted to see how it feels to do some of
the things I used to do with Jérôme, shave or be depilated, maybe
even show a little in public. If I’m honest, I miss my clitoris
hood ring and I might even dare to have that piercing done again.
My responsibility! Oh, I do love you, Jérôme. You taught me so
much! Without your help, I’d