Venus Envy (34 page)

“I thought you’d vamp around. You know, the tits-and-ass school of femininity.”

“Too crude. You know I once had great power. It’s not so easy anymore. For one thing you people don’t really
want to love anyone but yourselves. You make Narcissus look good. Then, too, the Christians took over and tried to cheapen me into some slutbunny. It’s sex, sex, sex with them and I take deep offense at that.”

“Why don’t you get even with them?” Frazier was falling into those inviting deep-blue eyes.

“Than I’d no longer be the goddess of love, would I? Do you remember your mythology? I am the only Olympian who doesn’t demand blood sacrifices.”

“I don’t think they’ve destroyed your power. You’ve been driven underground. Can anyone or any institution destroy the power of love?”

“They can cheapen it into the power of sex.”

A cold spear pierced Frazier’s stomach, or it felt like that. Did this mean Venus wouldn’t sleep with her? “Yes, well, they’ve done that. But, uh, how shall I address you? Your Majesty?”

“You can call me Venus, or Aphrodite if you prefer the Greek. Juno thrives on formality. I don’t.”

“Ah, what I was going to say is that the female principle can be suppressed but never truly vanquished. Those early Christians couldn’t eradicate your power, so they gave your robin’s-egg blue and many of your attributes to Mary, the Blessed Virgin. Basic theft, I’d say.”

“Yes.” Venus propped herself up on her right elbow. “Now let’s discuss you. You violated your true self. You thought you were dying and told the truth and now”—she reached out with her left hand and ran her forefinger from Frazier’s shoulder to her hand—“now you’re paying the price for love—no?”

“There hasn’t been much love in my life. I’m really paying the price for an idea.”

“Ah, is it my fault—?”

Frazier interrupted, “Oh, no. How could any of this be your fault?”

“I made you almost divinely beautiful but I forgot to give you a partner.”

“I think I’d prefer to find my own,” Frazier blurted out.

“Willful.”

“Uh—yes.” Frazier smiled. “That’s a polite way to put it. Venus, it’s not your fault there hasn’t been a deep love in my life. It’s my fault. I valued success and money more than people. And I was chicken to admit that I loved women best. I just lied and lied and lied until there wasn’t much of me left. No wonder I thought I was dying.”

“Perhaps part of you has.”

Frazier twisted on the Récamier chair to better face Venus. “Good. Now maybe there will be room for love and friendship. I was so goddam busy—excuse me. I didn’t mean to swear.” Venus waved it off and Frazier continued: “So by trying to control life, I wasn’t living it. And, Venus, the machines we have now. In a way it’s awful, because you can never get away from business. Americans, some of us, even have phones in their bathrooms.”

“Yes, I know all that. Alexander Graham Bell held no allure for me. My husband was close to him. Do you think you can open yourself up to life?”

“I’m trying. It sure hurts more than I thought it would.”

“Do you cry?”

“No.” Frazier shook her head. “I’m not a crier. I’m a fighter in my own quiet way.”

“There’s no shame in tears. The shame is in not feeling. Just as there’s no shame in loving women. The shame is in not loving at all.”

“I don’t remember any stories about you making love
to women.” Frazier’s heart slammed against her ribcage.

“Men fear any pleasure women experience in their absence.” Venus laughed. “Do you think they’d tell the truth about me? Much as I liked the Greeks of the fifth century, they were petty little patriarchs. Certainly I make love to women. I believe one should be able to make love to one’s partner as a woman to a woman, as a man to a woman, as a man to a man. Why limit yourself? You should be all things to your partner.”

“How imaginative.” Frazier’s mouth was again parched. “Might I have another drink?”

Venus clapped her hands and Eros appeared with a cup. Frazier eyed him suspiciously in case he was hiding his arrows in a quiver. Virile and handsome, he resembled no Cupid she had ever seen. “Madame.”

“Thank you. Is this nectar again?”

“Yes,” Venus’s son answered, “but I’ve also brought a Coca-Cola, since I know you are from the American South. As I recall, you all swim in Coke.”

“Well, it does taste pretty wonderful.” Frazier polished off the nectar and then chased it with the best Coca-Cola she had ever drunk in her life.

Venus nodded to Eros and he quietly left.

“He’s not what I expected either.”

“Who is? You’re not what I expected.”

“Really?”

“I knew you were beautiful, of course, but I thought you’d be more frightened. Most humans are overwhelmed when they meet one of us, although usually we’re in disguise. Especially Jupiter and Mercury. Those two are always transforming themselves. How is it you’re not afraid?”

“Well, I’m rather afraid of Pluto, Neptune, and Juno. And I’m not at all sure about Dionysus. He doesn’t seem to be wrapped too tight. But I’m not too frightened. I
don’t think you or the others want to kill me. You might use me for sport though.”

“I had other uses in mind.” Venus leaned forward, her left breast brushing against Frazier’s back.

Electrified, Frazier stiffened. She felt warm, sweet breath on her neck and then a tongue flicked just beneath her ear. Venus then bit her on the neck and languidly fell back on the couch. Frazier turned and met Venus’s eyes, sparkling eyes, kind eyes. “Has anyone ever resisted you?”

Venus laughed again, that silvery, feathery sound. “Well, if they did they missed a good thing.” She reached up and pulled Frazier down onto her. She closed her lips and kissed Frazier’s closed eyes. Then she returned to Frazier’s lips and kissed her.

The intensity of the kiss befuddled Frazier. Heaven or earth, alive or dead, sane or insane, she had no idea where she was, why she was there, who this woman was really, but her blood turned to lava.
Who
needed to know?

Losing her inhibitions, she ran her hands over Venus’s strong body. She could spend a decade just moving down those long, lean thighs.

Frazier kissed the sole of Venus’s foot, noticing as she did that the goddess’s toenails were pearl, catching the light with an opalescent shine. Her skin, smoother and opalescent, glowed with an inner light and Frazier was bathed in a soft peach haze.

As she ran her tongue along the inside of Venus’s calf and then her thigh, she wondered if she ought to stop at the soft curling mound beckoning—but that would be too soon. She bit Venus’s groin, then slid her tongue up the tight stomach to a breast that swayed like a chime.

Frazier felt a strong hand press down on the small of her back. She rubbed her face against the goddess’s left
breast, then circled the dusty rose nipple of the goddess’s right breast with her tongue.

Frazier hadn’t made love in so long that inserting and removing her Tampax qualified as pleasure. The months of her relationship falling apart with Ann, then the severe bronchitis eroded not only her sex life but her desire. Now in her arms writhed the apotheosis of love, not just physical love but waves of tenderness that rolled off Venus’s body. A sweetness wafted from the goddess, a sweetness born of truly caring about someone. Frazier had no idea why Venus would care for her, but this was hardly the moment to question.

The hand on her back pressed harder and, as Frazier lifted her head to kiss those full lips she looked into the deep eyes. Venus opened her mouth slightly.

Frazier pressed her lips to Venus’s and a surge of blazing heat shot through her body. The more she kissed Venus the lighter she felt until she was floating in the air.

The next thing she knew Venus was on top of her, kissing her, biting her neck, licking the palms of her hands, sucking her fingers, nuzzling her breasts. The light emanating from the goddess forced her to squint.

“What a gift,” Venus murmured. Frazier blinked in noncomprehension. “What a gift love is,” Venus continued.

“You’re the goddess of love.” Frazier felt truly stupid.

“Everyone asks me for love. It’s a gift when someone gives me love. Your body is a gift. Your flesh is so warm and I can taste the salt on your skin. What a delicious experience.”

Venus kissed her on the lips and then put a leg on either side of her torso. Slowly she moved up Frazier’s body until her crotch was over Frazier’s face.

Venus parted the curls to reveal herself, glistening and
deep pink. Then she opened herself and Frazier beheld a pink hazy light coming from inside the goddess. As she moved closer to the source of this fragrant haze, the hot pink vagina pulsating, she saw secret worlds within the goddess. Cities and symphonies echoed in her vagina.

Drawn into the body of Venus, a womb of fire cleansed her. As Frazier swirled around, she felt she was in a platinum washing machine on a hot rinse cycle. How long she burned in this state she didn’t know, but suddenly she was thrown back onto the bed, her whole body gleaming with fire. She gasped for breath, her bronchial tubes, still unreliable, scorched and hurt.

A strong hand slipped under her head and cool nectar was poured down her throat. Venus wiped her lips. “I’m sorry. I forgot you’re human.”

Frazier sucked in as much air as she could. She was shaking and bathed in sweat. She reached for the cup. Venus poured more of the restorative liquid down her throat, as well as Coca-Cola.

Frazier finally caught her breath. “I think I’m supposed to ask ‘Was it good for you?’”

Venus laughed so loudly that the chandelier in the next room crashed to the floor. The walls reverberated with her joy. “It was heaven.” Then she laughed some more at her joke and so did Frazier. “You must have lost ten pounds with that orgasm. Let me feed you.”

H
UGE FLAPJACKS SWIMMING IN THICK GERMAN HONEY
enticed Frazier nearly as much as did Venus’s body. The sight of the goddess flipping pancakes at a stainless-steel six-burner Vulcan stove gladdened her heart. Venus wore nothing but a red-checkered apron and she sang to herself as she cooked.

“Juno says she can make pancakes big enough to cover Nevada. Who cares? Who wants to eat a pancake that big? Even my husband isn’t interested in that, and he can eat morning, noon, and night. Don’t you like this stove he made for me?”

“Very much. I’d like to have one for myself but they’re quite expensive.”

“Anything good is, I’m afraid. Here.” She tossed a bronzed medallion of dough and it fell on top of Frazier’s other pancakes. “As I recall you once wanted me to show you how to make a cheese soufflé.” Then Venus filled
her own plate and joined her guest. The teakettle whistled.

“I’ll get it.” Frazier leaped up. “You remember everything. I’d been reading the paper, the food section. It seems so long ago.” She grabbed a hotpad. She lifted the kettle off the stove and groaned, “Damn, this is heavy.”

“Here.” Venus joined her. She easily lifted the pot, spilling the steaming contents into a beautifully enameled teapot.

Frazier sat back down with her hostess. “I haven’t seen you at full strength, have I?” Venus shook her head. “Well, in human terms, how strong are you?”

Venus got up, walked to the Vulcan stove and with one hand lifted it off the ground, then put it back down. “It’s hot or I’d have lifted it over my head.”

Frazier’s eyes were as big as saucers. “You could have killed me in bed.”

Venus waved her hand, airily dismissing the statement. “Any woman worth half her salt can fuck a man to death. Women are a little tougher in that regard, but given enough time and energy you could probably do one in too. Multiple orgasms.”

“I’ve often thought that’s why men want to control us—because we are stronger sexually.” Frazier merrily ate her pancakes while the tea steeped.

Venus sighed. “It wasn’t always that way. There have been times when we were closer together but then women got the upper hand, matriarchy, and that lasted for millennia. Then men got the upper hand and that’s lasted, oh, perhaps ten thousand years. It depends on how you’re counting. The real revolution will be when neither sex has to dominate the other. It will happen.”

“In my lifetime.”

“That’s up to you.” Venus poured the tea into exquisite red and gold cups. “Anyway, goddesses and gods
cannot determine the future. We can try to sway it but we can’t determine it.”

The honey rolled down Frazier’s throat. “You’re a very good cook.”

“Simple things. I leave the cuisine to Juno. She’s so damned jealous about it that if one of us, even her adored Mars, cooks something better than she did or invents a new dish, she goes on a rampage.”

“Bad.”

“The worst. What’s funny about her is that if you’re in trouble—say you’re having a difficult childbirth—she’ll help if she hears you. She’s good to her favorites.”

“Like Jason and the Argonauts?”

“Oh, Frazier, that’s so long ago. I was thinking of Craig Claiborne. She’s just so jealous of her prerogatives. She can’t share anything.”

“Certainly not her husband.”

“He was faithful for three hundred years. What else does she want? Anyway, all men will play around and if a woman doesn’t know that, then she’s a fool.”

“Monogamy is impossible?”

“Nearly impossible.”

“What about marriage vows?” Frazier was enjoying this.

“Whose marriage vows?”

“The Christian church’s.”

“Ha.” Venus stirred her tea. “When those vows were first written the average life span was twenty-one years. Of course people could be faithful. Look how long you live now. Do you honestly believe that a couple who marry at twenty-five years of age and who live to eighty will be faithful? Impossible.” She put down the teapot with a flourish of triumph. “You aren’t made that way. You’re just animals with a bit of intelligence. The more you violate your animal nature, the crazier you all get.”

“Still”—Frazier wistfully stabbed at another delicious pancake—“I’d like to think my husband or wife could remain faithful.”

“I keep forgetting that you’re a Protestant.” Venus raised an eyebrow. “Protestants take it all so seriously. Ask yourself this: Did we have a wonderful time?”