The Diary of Geza Csath by Geza Csath Read Free Book Online Page A

distorted face with pink lips that looked like raw meat. Lying on her back, she was able to pull her knees all the way back to her shoulders. At those times, she always declared:
‘I worship you, because you crumple me up under you so.’
Aside from this, she always showered me with praise, and during the act of coitus itself, from under a veiled gaze, she quietly moaned:
‘Unreal, fantastic, it’s all unreal!’
Several times she asked me to get a job for her in Budapest, and to allow her to come and see me at least once a month. I always hedged – the devil with it, a woman who had already tried suicide once could make a lot of trouble. Nevertheless, I could not prevent her from looking me up a couple of times in Budapest. The unparalleled weakness of human nature allowed her to have her way on one such occasion.
At the end of September or the beginning of October she came in a ‘princess’ dress, under which, as I discovered later, she wore only a blouse and knitted pants. That’s when I gave in to temptation. From behind, standing up in front of the mirror, I performed the savagery upon her. A great weariness followed. I made grave accusations against myself of having cheated on my loyal little Olga, and with such a woman. But even today I conclude that it would be easier for Olga to forgive me if – as was the case
– the woman was far beneath her in quality. I would restrain myself from telling her what intense sexual excitement this nasty beast could induce. (If I analyse the cause of it, I arrive at the following: (1) resemblance to Charlotte, (2) masturbatory past, (3) her little daughter, (4) her contemptibility, (5) in contrast to the preceding, her insolent hauteur, (6) the contrast between her pimply, ugly face and her outstanding figure, (7) the way she offered herself, that is, her shameless lust.)
The further evolution of my relationship with Bozsi B. occurred in the first half of August. Until then, I did not want to hurt the lass because I felt sorry for her; now, however, I desired more and more to occupy her little virgin chalice. On 8 August, I undressed her in order to examine her, carefully inspected her hymen, and found it faultless.
‘Allow me, my darling,’ I said, ‘to make you mine.’
‘No, absolutely not,’ she said, ‘it’s out of the question.’
The arrogance and provocation in her tone made me wild. I laid her down and sans condom I soon penetrated her. Lustfully, as if it was something she had been anticipating for a long time, she received my assault. She gave herself like a little lamb, with fiery eyes, and only protested out of propriety.
    Stubnyafurdo, Green Mirror women’s baths
    ‘Don’t hurt me, my dear sweet one, don’t hurt me, you’ll break me, my God, don’t hurt me!’
In the meantime, however, she embraced me with fire, and I could well see that her joy exceeded her pain. We both soon reached ecstasy and looked at each other astonished. She had only bled slightly, no doubt on account of the copious Vaseline I used and also because I had not penetrated her roughly. I did not want to rip the curtain apart entirely, and was satisfied to have got halfway through the door.
Afterwards, I was a little frightened of what I had done. She was a weak, kind little girl, after all! What would happen if she conceived? Such questions thronged in my mind, and I bothered the sweet thing no more at the baths. A few days later, when she departed, I forced thirty crowns on her and provided her with advice and stamps, so that she could inform me of her condition. Later, in Budapest, she sought me out once a week for further treatments, usually on Sundays. On these occasions I always served her coffee, oranges, and pastry, and made her sing the songs she heard in the Budapest night. Her musicality left me in awe more than once. I played the piano for her many times. During a selection from Lohengrin, she exclaimed: ‘How beautiful!’ She understood music. She could sit at the