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A Fragment

Edith Wharton
Brains and culture seem non-existent from one end of the social scale to the other half the morons yell for filth, the other half continue to put pants on the piano legs. EW

This is the most magnificent piece of women s stroke fiction ever written. Even the act of transcribing even describing the act of transcribing the short scene you are about to read is getting me so incredibly hot, I m going to have to walk around a bit before I can compose myself. There. That s better. This passage actually a side fragment from an unpublished short story by EW and dated, depending on who you re listening to, either 1919 or 1935 has been tossed about the groves of academe for nearly thirty years, ever since it was discovered slyly hidden by the author among her donated papers. For reasons that have nothing to do with its literary worth, it has shocked, intrigued, infuriated, and just all around sent scholars into a tizzy. Pornography or liberation? A great piece of writing, or a frank souvenir of childhood abuse? What the heck do we care? In fact, that it s a luridly graphic scene between a sophisticated father and his willing daughter only gets me hotter. You can t find this fragment on the internet. I ve looked. Its ephemeral existence is brought up regularly on high-toned literary discussion boards; two professors lay claim to its ownership . Well, I m liberating it. Those cows don t know how to appreciate a work of true beauty. This bit of literature has been a cornerstone of my inner erotic life, along with pirates, priests, sexy arab patriarchs, and Alan Rickman. Rule on, baby.


as he whispered to her. darling. his face close to hers. Again her burning lips were parted by his tongue. sucking them with a tender gluttony. like the bread of the angels. was spread out before it. and a lustrous black bearskin run. you see. repeated in a penetrating whisper: Only you and I. Already she felt every fibre vibrating under it. so perfectly patient The room was warm. passing from one to the other till his lips closed hard on the nipples. he added gently. Mr. And now his warm palms were holding each breast as if in a cup. clasping it. modeling it. She let herself sink backward among the pillows. and she felt it insinuate itself between her teeth. Palmato said. and was twisting like a soft pink snake about each breast in turn. and she felt her two breasts pointing up to them. only now with the more passionate eagerness bred of privation. One by one they gained her bosom. and looking straight into her eyes. and already Mr. let me show you what you what only you and I have the right to show each other. A little fire sparkled on the hearth. Palmato was on his knees at her side. He caught her wrists as he spoke. An instant more. on which a few purple velvet cushions had been flung. and softly lit by one or two pink-shaded lamps. the nipples hard as coral. and plunge into the depths of her mouth in a long searching caress. drawing her to the deep divan. And now. and his tongue had left her fainting mouth. 2 . softly kneading it. while at the same moment his hands softly parted the thin folds of her wrapper.I have been. and of the dull misery of her marriage. But his touch had never been tenderer. as of old. but sensitive as lips to his approaching touch.

The mounting hand paused. Now we shall reap its fruit. The sensation was so exquisite that she could have asked to have it indefinitely prolonged.Then suddenly he drew back her wrapper entirely. Suddenly she remembered Austin s rough advances. beyond his dark silver-sprinkled head. But now it was light. she could see her own parted knees and outstretched ankles and feet. Palmato was never idle. and forcing itself in deeper and deeper through the passage that glowed and seemed to become illuminated as its approach 3 . But Mr. That experience was a cruel one but it has to come once in all women s lives. but suddenly his head bent lower. and with a deeper thrill she felt his lips pressed upon that quivering invisible bud. pressing apart those close petals. here was his subtle forefinger pressing it. lying before him in her fresh young nakedness. At the same moment the other hand softly separated her legs. and while this sensation flashed through her one of his arms had slipped under her back and wound itself around her so that his hand again enclosed her left breast. for the old swooning sweetness was creeping over her. But she hardly heard him. and shuddered. and in a moment she was free. darling. my own? I was remembering last week she faltered. and laying on their sensitive edges a circular touch so soft and yet so fiery that already lightnings of heat shot from that palpitating centre all over her surrendered body. What is it. quivering hotly to burst into bloom. and then the delicate firm thrust of his tongue. so full and yet so infinitely subtle. and feeling that indeed his eyes were covering it with fiery kisses. so that my eyes can see all that my lips can t cover. she was uncovered. forcing its tight petals softly apart. and began to slip up the old path it had so often traveled in darkness. yearning. to the tips of her fingers. whispered: I want you all. and the ends of her loosened hair. Yes. Ah. and looking downward. below her breath. As his hand stole higher she felt the secret bud of her body swelling. the dark head was instantly raised.

sinking backward into new abysses of bliss.Ah she gasped. and plunge into the deepest depths of her thirsting body Was it like this last week? he whispered. bent over her. he breathed. With panting breath she wound her caress deeper and deeper into the firm thick folds. one of her hands was caught. Instantly. to call his third hand. as if at its mercy. thrusting her lips open. till at length the member. and she saw it before her. a drop of moisture pearling at its tip. rising. and while Mr. and her heart swelled excitedly: to have her touch confirmed by sight enriched the sensation that was communicating itself through her ardent twisting tongue. pressing her hands against her sharp nipples. sinking down beside her.anamericanromantic. It was the first time she had ever seen it actually exposed to her eyes. felt it descend on her. and began to caress it insinuatingly with her tongue. Mr. it was withdrawn. letting herself downward along the divan till her head was in line with his middle she flung herself upon the swelling member. his muscular trunk bare. like a crimson flash. 4 . then. and at last. she felt his firm fingers pressing into her hand that strong fiery muscle that they used. and flinging her legs apart. My little girl. above her. and the third hand quivering and thrusting upward between them. in a trice. his lips on hers again. Palmato: A Fragment © Edith Wharton AN AMERICAN ROMANTIC http://www. She instantly understood the reminder that his words conveyed. press open the secret gates. in their old joke. held her gasping. her knees were pressed apart.