Act One Scene Three
Interlude
The
love of the young
Hamlet
sat by the jetty that extended out to the lake. It was the summer break of
school, and thereafter he was to go to college to major in his subject. He was
dressed in a casual shirt and shots with his feet bare. He swung his legs
inches from the water's surface.
“Hello
there”, Hamlet heard his friend who sat there next to him.
“Laertes, how did you fare?” Hamlet asked of the
other.
“It was better than I thought. We did it, as
described.” Laertes had on a smile that brought him many hugs from the girls in
the town. “She was pure like me but I thought her a few tricks.”
Scoring with the girl then was their ambition in
the summer, and Laertes was the one who made the most of the situation. Hamlet
smiled at his friend.
“Did you?” Hamlet was asked.
“No, I did not. I respected your sister well.”
Hamlet smiled. He felt aroused but he drove his mind away. He recited the works
of Socrates instead.
“You got to be pulling my legs, Hamlet. Ophelia is
a beauty. She got the ….chest that is rounded and the …”
“Speak no more, Laertes. I do …love your sister but
I am not going to score on her until we are ready.” Hamlet protected the honor
of the other.
“Your loss then, Hamlet. I am going for the next
round with Gloria later. She promised herself to me.” Laertes got up and left
Hamlet to himself. He sat there looking at the lake while his ears picked on
the sound around him. He was alone then. He then reached with his right hand to
touch himself. He felt the urge but he will not rush it. It was to be enjoyed
with careful ministration, like watching a play to the climatic end. It was
never a rush to the finish. It was how he felt then.
“Are you sure, Ophelia?” Hamlet had met the other
in the attic that afternoon. They were alone with the other occupants at the
swim or walking in the woods.
Ophelia had sat across from him on the stacked-up
mattress with her hands on her lap. She had on a dark red knee-length dress.
She was a year older than Hamlet.
“I … am.” Ophelia nodded. “Are you going to …”
There was apprehension in her voice, but her inner
voice told her she was ready. She read medical books and prepared herself. She
even wore red in case she bled.
“I...I think so.” Hamlet had sat on the chair
there. “Shall we begin?”
Hamlet moved over to sit next to Ophelia. He
reached out with his arms to hold her and then kissed her on the left cheek. He
moved from there to her lips which she kept closed. They have been doing kisses
since last summer and it was autumn when his hands touched her flesh on the
front. It felt nice but he did not move beyond there. She had squirmed under
his feels and that day was their initiation.
“Shall I …” Hamlet asked for permission and it was
nodded. He unzipped her dress from the back and slowly pulled it off her
shoulders. She was not wearing any top undergarments that day.
“I took it off earlier” Ophelia whispered to his
ears. He could not resist but pulled away to stare at her. She looked away
while he admired her breasts.
“May I?” Hamlet asked and again he was given
permission. He reached with his lips to suckle on her while she moaned. They
fell back onto the mattress while he was kneading her there. It was heavenly
like a child taking milk from the mother. She felt his hands on him. He pushed
himself up on his elbow.
“Are you…” Hamlet was silenced by the hard grasp on
his groin. He grimaced in pain and she released her hold.
“I did not..” Ophelia apologies. “Let me…”
Hamlet lay there watching her raise herself. She
pulled at his shorts and released his manhood. She turned with embarrassment.
He took the initiative to take her right hand and placed it over him.
“Be gentle.” Ophelia was gentle and when she felt
ready, she raised her hips to pull the dress upwards. Hamlet sat up and offered
to help. He did it gently and saw she was naked there. He turned toward her and
found her nodding to his move. He climbed over her while pulling her legs
apart. He felt himself above her and then he imagined her desire. He reached
with his right hand to guide himself, but it was then he felt the sudden push
of his desire.
“I am sorry. I did …” Hamlet rolled over. “I was…”
“It’s okay, Hamlet. We can try again. I can wait.”
Ophelia pulled the dress down to cover her legs. “I can …”
“No, I am done. I need to go.” Hamlet left Ophelia
by herself while he ran off to take a shower. If only he could explain to her.
He can’t do it because he felt it to be cheating. It was his fault to be there
when he should not have been. It caused him to feel the cheat.
Ophelia had taken to the lake and saw the loving
doves on the branch. She felt that they were one pair but even loving needs its
time to be there.
“I will wait for you, Hamlet.”
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