Georges Bataille - Story of the Eye

I grew up very much alone, and as far back as I recall I was frightened of anything sexual. I wasnearly sixteen when I met Simone, a girl my own age, at the beach in X. Our families beingdistantly related, we quickly grew intimate. Three days after our first meeting, Simone and I werealone in her villa. She was wearing a black pinafore with a starched white collar. I began torealize that she shared my anxiety at seeing her, and I felt even more anxious that day because Ihoped she would be stark naked under the pinafore.She had black silk stockings on covering her knees, but I was unable to see as far up as the cunt(this name, which I always used with Simone, is, I think, by far the loveliest of the names for thevagina). It merely struck me that by slightly lifting the pinafore from behind, I might see her privateparts unveiled.Now in the corner of a hallway there was a saucer of milk for the cat. Milk is for the pussy, isntit? said Simone. Do you dare me to sit in the saucer?I dare you, I answered, almost breathless.The day was extremely hot. Simone put the saucer on a small bench, planted herself before me,and, with her eyes fixed on me, she sat down without my being able to see her burning buttocksunder the skirt, dipping into the cool milk. The blood shot to my head, and I stood before herawhile, immobile and trembling, as she eyed my stiff cock bulging in my trousers. Then I lay downat her feet without her stirring and for the first time, I saw her pink and dark flesh cooling in thewhite milk. We remained motionless, both of us equally overwhelmedSuddenly, she got up, and I saw the milk dripping down her thighs to the stockings. She wipedherself evenly with a handkerchief as she stood over my head with one foot on the small bench,and I vigorously rubbed my cock through the trousers while writhing amorously on the floor. Wereached orgasm at almost the same instant without even touching one another. But when hermother came home, I was sitting in a low armchair, and I took advantage oft he moment when thegirl tenderly snuggled in her mothers arms: I lifted the back of her pinafore, unseen, and thrustmy hand under her cunt between her two burning legs.

I dashed home, eager to masturbate again. The next day there were such dark rings around my
eyes that Simone, after peering at me for a while, buried her head in my shoulder and said
earnestly: I dont want you to toss off any more without me.
Thus a love life started between the girl and myself, and it was so intimate and so intense that we
could hardly let a week go by without meeting. And yet we virtually never talked about it. I
realized that her feelings at seeing me were the same as mine at seeing her, but I found it difficult
to have things out. I remember that one day, when we were in a car tooling along at top speed,
we crashed into a cyclist, an apparently very young and very pretty girl. Her head was almost
totally ripped off by the wheels. For a long time, we were parked a few yards beyond without
getting out, fully absorbed in the sight of the corpse. The horror and despair at so much bloody
flesh, nauseating in part, and in part very beautiful, was fairly equivalent to our usual impression
upon seeing one another. Simone was tall and lovely. She was usually very natural; there was
nothing heartbreaking in her eyes or her voice. But on a sensual level, she so bluntly craved any
upheaval that the faintest call from the senses gave her a look directly suggestive of all things
linked to deep sexuality, such as blood, suffocation, sudden terror, crime; things indefinitely
destroying human bliss and honesty. I first saw her mute and absolute spasm (which I shared)
the day she sat down in the saucer of milk. True, we only exchanged fixed stares at analogous
moments. But we never calmed down or played except in the brief, relaxed minutes after an
orgasm.
I ought to say, nevertheless, that we waited a long time before copulating. We merely took any
opportunity to indulge in unusual acts. We did not lack modestyon the contrarybut something
urgently drove us to defy modesty together as immodestly as possible. Thus, no sooner had she
asked me never to toss off again by myself than we had met on top of a cliff, then she pulled
down my pants and had me stretch out on the ground. She tucked her dress up, mounted my
belly with her back towards my face, and let herself go, while I thrust my finger, lubricated with my
young sperm, into her cunt. Next, she lay down, with her head under my cock between my legs,
and thrusting her cunt in the air, she brought her body down towards me, while I raised my head
to the level of that cunt: her knees found support on my shoulders.
Cant you pee up to my cunt? she said.
Yes, I answered, but with you like this, itll get on your dress and your face.
So what, she concluded. And I did as she said, but no sooner was I done than I flooded her
again, this time with fine white come.

Meanwhile, the smell of the sea mixed with the smell of wet linen, our naked bodies, and the
come. Evening was gathering, and we stayed in that extraordinary position, tranquil and
motionless, when all at once we heard steps crushing the grass.
Please dont move, please, Simone begged.
The steps halted, but it was impossible to see who was approaching. Our breathing had stopped
together. Simones ass, raised aloft, did strike me as an all-powerful entreaty, perfect as it was;
with its two narrow, delicate buttocks and its deep crevice; and I never doubted for an instant that
the unknown man or woman would soon give in and feel compelled to masturbate endlessly while
watching that behind. Now the steps resumed, faster this time, almost running, and suddenly a
ravishing blond girl loomed into view: Marcelle, the purest and most affecting of our friends. But
we were too strongly contracted in our dreadful positions to move even a hairs breadth, and it
was our unhappy friend who suddenly collapsed and huddled in the grass amid sobs. Only now
did we tear loose from our extravagant embrace to hurl ourselves upon a self abandoned body.
Simone hiked up the skirt, ripped off the panties, and drunkenly showed me a new cunt, as lovely
and pure as her own: I kissed it furiously while finger fucking Simone, whose legs closed around
the hips of that strange Marcelle, who no longer hid anything but her sobs.
Marcelle, I exclaimed, please, please dont cry. I want you to kiss me on the mouth
Simone, for her part, stroked the girls lovely smooth hair, covering her body with fond kisses.
Meanwhile the sky had turned quite thundery, and, with nightfall, huge raindrops began plopping
down, bringing relief from the harshness of a torrid, airless day. The sea was loudly raging,
outroared by long rumbles of thunder, while flashes of lightning, bright as day, kept brusquely
revealing the two pleasured cunts of the now silent girls. A brutal frenzy drove our three bodies.
Two young mouths fought over my ass, my balls, and my cock, but I still kept pushing apart
female legs wet with saliva and come, splaying them as if writhing out of a monsters grip, and yet
that monster was nothing but the utter violence of my movements. The hot rain was finally
pouring down and streaming over our fully exposed bodies. Huge booms of thunder shook us,
heightening our fury, wresting forth our cries of rage, which each flash accompanied with a
glimpse of our sexual parts. Simone had found a mud puddle, and was smearing herself wildly:
she was jerking off with the earth and coming violently, whipped by the downpour, my head
locked in her soil-covered legs, her face wallowing in the puddle, where she was brutally churning
Marcelles cunt, one arm around Marcelles hips, the hand yanking the thigh, forcing it open.