Kafkaesque Porn

Over the years, he became completely stupid and had long forgotten that there was a woman. All his despair is concentrated in the breasts, which now in his old age appear to him more and more like towering mountains, impassable, whose summit he will never again be able to reach

Before the Breast (Source)

Before the breasts stands a gatekeeper. A young boy comes to the breasts and wants to enter. But the woman says: Maybe later. Years pass and the woman sometimes allows him to get close, sometimes to peek, sometimes to touch and even to fondle and suck - but never to enter. Occasionally she asks him questions: What grade did you get on the test? What are you studying? What do you do for work? How much do you earn? And the boy works very hard and answers all her questions. But she never shows him the entrance. In his despair, he even starts talking to the nipples and trying to suck from them some hidden inner essence that might hint at what's inside, and begs them to let him enter, as if they were buttons that needed some code pressed into them. He tries different combinations, different angles of touching, various pressures, circling the breasts from all directions. But the entrance never opens. He tries to run around them quickly as if they were mountains where the entrance is hidden only from him - and if he's just a bit faster he'll get to see the edge of the cave before it closes. Sometimes he thinks he hears some kind of pulse beneath the surface. Some throbbing under the taut, smooth skin that offers no place to grip. He runs from one breast to the other, frenzied, as if he can't comprehend how the entrance could be on one side and not the other since the symmetry is perfect, dizzying. Sometimes he hopes the breast will crush him with its weight and waits in the fold underneath. But the breast is always gentle and soft. He sits down angrily in his place, as if if he doesn't come to the breast - the breast will come to him. But in the end, he returns to the breast.

Over the years, he became completely stupid and had long forgotten that there was a woman. All his despair is concentrated in the breasts, which now in his old age appear to him more and more like towering mountains, impassable, whose summit he will never again be able to reach. He begins to doubt that anyone ever reached their summit and that even he in his youth got there, and the nipple seems to him like a distant and very dubious rumor, almost religious. As if at the peaks of these mountains - which are themselves enormous tablets of the covenant - stands some Torah [Translator's note: sacred law], sublime beyond both his understanding and his grasp. Now it's clear to him that his time is limited and he has missed the deadline, and he sighs in the vast valley of tears between the ridges of the white snow-capped mountains above him, which seem to him to be endlessly growing taller while he is covered in an ever-increasing darkness. Just before the end, all his life that passed like a shadow beneath the two giants - whose heads are covered in clouds, and it's possible that they, the breasts, reach the heavens, where the 'd' connects to the 'm' [Translator's note: This is a reference to the Hebrew word for breasts, "shadayim", where the last letter 'm' can be seen as connecting to the first letter 'd'] - concentrates into one final question: How is it possible that I didn't find the entrance, after all, isn't this where I came from as a baby? If there was an exit then there must also be an entrance. And if there was an entrance to the world then that's also where the exit is. After all, there are children, or at least there were children in the world. And the woman answers, her mighty voice coming to him from afar like rolling thunder: The entrance wasn't here. Now I'm going to close it. And she zips up the zipper.