Chapter 6
The tenant in possession
The next morning's post brought me letters from both Eva and Flossie.
"My dear Jack (wrote the former), "To-morrow will be a red-letter day for you two! and I want you both to get the utmost of delight from it. So let no sort of scruple or compunction spoil your pleasure. Flossie is, in point of physical development, a woman. As such, she longs to be fucked by the man she loves. Fuck her therefore with all and more than all the same skill and determination you displayed in fucking me. She can think and talk of nothing else. Come early to-morrow and bring your admirable prick in its highest state of efficiency and stiffness!
"Yours "Eva".
"I cannot sleep a wink for thinking of what is coming to me to-morrow. All the time I keep turning over in my mind how best to make it nice for you. I am practising Eva's 'nip'. I feel as if I could do it, but nipping nothing is not really practice, is it, Jack? My beloved, I kiss your prick, in imagination. Tomorrow I will do it in the flesh, for I warn you that even the seven inches which I yearn to have in my cunt ever bring me to consent to being deprived of the sensation of your dear tongue when it curls between the lips and pays polite little attentions to my clitoris! But you shall have me as you like to-morrow, and all days to follow. I am to be in the future.
"Yours, body and soul "Flossie"
When I arrived at the flat I found Flossie had put on the costume in which I had seen her the first day of our acquaintance. The lovely little face wore an expression of gravity, as though to shew me she was not forgetting the importance of the occation. I am not above confessing that, for my part, I was profoundly moved.
We sat beside one another, hardly exchanging a word. Presently Flossie said.
"Whenever you are ready, Jack, I'll go to my room and undress."
The characteristic "naiivete" of this remark somewhat broke the spell that was upon us, and I kissed her with effusion.
"Shall it be... quite naked, Jack?"
"Yes, darling, if you don't mind."
"All right. When I am ready I'll call to you."
Five minutes later, I heard the welcome summons.
From the moment I found myself in her room, all sense of restraint vanished at a breath. She flew at me in a perfect fury of desire, pushed me by sheer force upon my back on the bed, and lying at full length upon me with her face close to mine, she said.
"Because I was a girl and not a woman, Jack, you have never fucked me. But you are going to fuck me now, and I shall be a woman. But first, I want to be a girl to you still for a few minutes only. I want to have your dear prick in my mouth again, I want you to kiss my cunt in the old delicious way, I want to lock my naked arms round your naked body, and hold you to my face, whilst I wind my tongue round your prick until you spend. Let me do all this, Jack, and then you shall fuck me till the skies fall."
Without giving me time to reply to this frenzied little oration, Flossie had whisked round and was in position for the double gamahuche she desired. Parting her legs to their widest extent on each side of my face, she sank gently down until her cunt came full upon my open mouth. At the same moment I felt my prick seized and plunged deep into her mouth with which she at once commenced the delicious sucking action I knew so well. I responded by driving my tongue to the root into the rosy depths of her perfumed cunt, which I sucked with ever increasing zest and enjoyment, drawing fresh treasures from its inner recesses at every third or fourth stroke of my tongue. Words fail me to describe the unparalleled vigour of her sustained attack upon my erected prick, which she sucked, licked, tongued and frigged with such a furious abandon and at the same time with such a subtle skill and knowledge of the sublime art of gamahuching, that the end came with unusual rapidity, and wave after wave of the sea of love broke in ecstasy upon the 'coral strand' of her adorable mouth. For a minute or two more, her lips retained their hold and then, leaving her position, she came and lay down beside me, nestling her naked body against mine, and softly chafing the lower portion of my prick whilst she said.
"Now, Jack darling, I am going to talk to you about the different ways of fucking, because of course you will want to fuck me, and I shall want to be fucked, in every possible position, and in every single part of my body where a respectable young woman may reasonable ask to be fucked.
The conversation which followed agreeably filled the intervening time before the delicate touches which Flossie kept constantly applying to my prick caused it to raise its head to a considerable attitude, exhibiting a hardness and rigidity which gave high promise for the succes of the coming encounter.
"Good Gracious!" cried ^lossie, "do you thing I shall over find room for all that, Jack?"
"For that, and more also, sweetheart," I replied.
"More!" Why what more are you going to put into me?"
"This is the only article I propose to introduce at present, Floss. But I mean that when Monsieur Jacques finds himself for the first time with his head buried between the delicious cushions in there" (touching her belly) "he will most likely beat his own record in the matter of length and stiffness."
"Do you mean, Jack, that he will be bigger with me than he was with Eva?" said Flossie with a merry twinkle.
"Certainly I mean it" was my reply. "To fuck a beautiful girl like Eva must always be immensely enjoyable, but to fuck a young Venus of fifteen, who besides being the perfection of mortal loveliness, is also one's own chosen and adorable little sweetheart-that belongs to a different order of pleasure altogether."
"And I suppose, Jack, that when the fifteen-year-old is simply dying to be fucked by her lover, as I am at this moment, the chances are that she may be able to make it rather nice for him, as well as absolutely heavenly for herself. Now I can wait no longer. 'First position' at once, please, Jack. Give me your prick in my hand and I will direct his wandering footsteps."
"He's at the door, Flossie, shall he enter?"
"Yes. Push him in slowly and fuck gently at first, so that I may find out by degrees how much he's going to hurt me. A little further, Jack. Why, he's more than half way in already! Now you keep still and I'll thrust a little with my bottom."
"Why, Floss, you darling, you're nipping me deliciously!"
"Can you feel me Jack? How lovely! Fuck me a little more, Jack, and get in deeper, that's it! Now faster and harder. What glorious pleasure it is!"
"And no pain, darling?"
"Not a scrap. One more good push and he'll be in up to the hilt, wont't he? Eva told me to put my legs over your back. Is that right?"
'Quite right, and if you're sure I'm not hurting you, Floss, I'll really begin now and fuck you in earnest."
"That's what I'm here for, Sir", she replied with a touch of her never absent fun even in this supreme moment.
"Here goes, then!" I answered. Having once made up her mind that she had nothing to dread, Flossie abandoned herself with enthusiasm to the pleasures of the moment. Locking her arms round my neck and her legs round my buttocks, she cried to me to fuck her with all my might.
"Drive your prick into me again and again, Jack. Let me feel your belly against mine. Did you feel my cunt nip you then? Ah! how you are fucking me now!-fucking me, fu...u...ucking me!"
Her lovely eyes turned to heaven, her breath came in quick short gasps, her fingers wandered feverishly about my body. At last, with a cry, she plunged her tongue into my mouth and, with convulsive undulations of the little body, let loose the floods of her being to join the deluge which, with sensations of exquisite delight, I poured into her burning cunt.
The wild joy of this our first act of coition was followed by a slight reaction and, with a deep sigh of contentment Flossie fell asleep in my arms, leaving my prick still buried in its natural resting-place. Before long, my own eyelids closed and, for an hour or more, we lay thus gaining from blessed sleep fresh strength to enter upon new transports of pleasure.
Flossie was the first to awake, stirred no doubt by the unaccustomed sensations of a swelling prick within her. I awoke to find her dear eyes resting upon my face, her naked arms round my neck and her cunt enfolding my yard with a soft and clinging embrace.
Her bottom heaved gently, and accepting the invitation thus tacitly given, I turned my little sweetheart on her back and, lying luxuriously between her widely parted legs, once more drove my prick deep into her cunt and fucked her with slow lingering strokes, directed upwards so as to bring all possible contact to bear upon the clitoris.
This particular motion afforded her evident delight and the answering thrusts of her bottom were delivered with ever increasing vigour and precision, each of us relishing to the full the efforts of the other to augment the pleasure of the encounter. With sighs and gasps and little cries of rapture, Flossie strained me to her naked breasts, and twisting her legs tightly round my own, cried out that she was spending and implored me to let her feel my emission mix with hers. By dint of clutching her bottom with my hands, driving the whole length of my tongue into her mouth I was just able to manage the simultaneous discharge she coveted, and once more I lay upon her in a speechless ecstasy of consummated passion.
Any one of my readers who has had the supreme good fortune to fuck the girl of his heart will bear me out in saying that the lassitude following upon such a meeting is greater and more lasting than the mere weariness resulting from an ordinary act of copulation ' where love is not'.
Being well aware of this fact, I resolved that my beloved little Flossie's powers should not be taxed any further for the moment, and told her so.
"But Jack", she cried, almost in tears, "we've only done in one way, and Eva says there are at least six. And oh, I do love it so!"
"And so do I, little darling. But also, I love you, and I'm not going to begin by giving you and that delicious little caressing cunt of yours more work than is good for you both."
"Oh, dear! I suppose you're right, Jack."
''Of course I'm right, darling. To-morrow I shall come and fuck you again, and the next day, and the next, and many days after that. It will be odd if we don't find ourselves in Eva's six different positions before we've done!"
At this moment Eva herself entered the room.
"Well, Flossie... ?" she said.
"Ask Jack!" replied Flossie.
"Well Jack, then...?" said Eva.
"Ask Flossie!" I retorted, and fled from the room.
The adventures I have, with many conscious imperfections, related in the fore going pages, were full of interest to me, and were, I am disposed to think, not without their moments of attraction for my fellowactors in the scenes depicted.
It by no means necessarily follows that they will produce a corresponding effect upon the reading public who, in my descriptions of Flossie and her ways, may find only an ineffectuel attempt to set forth the charms of what appears to me an absolutely unique temperament. If haply it should prove to be otherwise, I should be glad to have the opportunity of continuing a veritable labour of love by recounting certain further experiences of Eva, Flossie and
Yours faithfully "Jack."
FINIS
Again the boy relaxed and they slept in each other's arms. Christie threw her legs over his and his cock kept rubbing against the mouth of her cunt until she could almost scream.
"Quick," she told him, "hold my cunt. I seem to need something."
"Darling," he whispered, "anything you say."
"Then, please, my sweet one, give me a rimming." She had heard that word used by the Signor and now she wondered if it would feel just as good if this delightful boy would give it to her.
"What does it mean-rimming?" he asked.
"Just get down," she replied, "and put your mouth up against my pirogue. See, just take it apart. It has two lips, where you put yov prick in before. Do you see them?"
He answered that he did and the sight so enchanted him that he put his cheek up against
"No, no," she said patiently, "kiss that little raised mound you see inside. Then be a good boy, lick all around the cunt, you'll give me a marvelous feeling."
The boy did as he was told and the game began to give him as much pleasure as it did the girl. He put out his tongue and licked all around the inside of the lips and then rested on the mound of venus, the clitoris. This was so beautiful to look at, that he began to kiss it and then suck on it. Christie was in heaven and she began to squirm and jerk, until at last she began to come, and a fine liquid came out of the little hole. Not until then was she thoroughly sated.
While she lay in the arms of morpheus, she heard the oddest sounds coming from the adjoining room and her curiosity got the better of her. Quietly she donned her negligee and stole away from the sleeping youth.
She opened the door of the other boudoir and was astonished to see Marie and Papa Etienne engaged in what seemed to her a sort of game of hide and seek. Both were stark naked and she marvelled to notice how straight, strong and virile the old man looked. Except for his grey locks he was as vigorous as any youth of half his age or less. His body was covered with a fine, gray down and his chest was like a tangled mat of wool.
Marie was on her hands and knees, her enormous buttocks expanded, her torso bent over, so her head seemed to touch the ground.
Papa Etienne was standing behind her buttocks and holding his penis in his hand. It was long and snakey, red and swollen. It reminded her of some python she had seen in the zoo. He was, however, not standing still, but pushing his eel into the orifice between her buttocks.
Every time he bent forward and plunged his fleshy dagger into the splendid behind of the girl, he emitted an "Oh" or an "Ah" and one could see that he was enjoying the game immensely. Marie was giggling in a delightful ripple.
Suddenly the old one grew quiet, closed his eyes, seemed to stop breathing and as he bent back a bit, Chris saw a long, white stream of viscous liquid come out of the eel and spurt over the glorious white buttocks of Marie.
Neither of them was aware of Christie's presence and it was not until the old one had sated his passion, that Marie turned. She caught sight of Christie and reddened.
"What are you doing here?" she asked in a panic, and hastily she sought to have Papa Etienne cover his body with a robe she threw
"I could ask you that," Christie replied.
"You were never to see anything like this," Marie wailed. "Your mother would do something dreadful if she knew."
"Come, come," Christie admonished, "I'm not as innocent as you think. Do you really believe I've never seen a man's prick or a woman being fucked?'
Marie was aghast. She had Truly believed the girl to be a virgin. She had spoken of the business here as if it were some commercial transaction, devoid of anything even remotely connected with sex or passion. She had only told Christie of the business side of it, never imagining that the younger girl would have the slightest conception of the actual work involved.
However, she quickly revised her opinion of Chris and only cautioned her to secrecy.
"What's become of the young fellow?" she asked.
Christie smiled. "Oh, he's enjoyed himself," she said cryptically.
"You don't mean that he has lost his virginity?" queried Marie in astonishment. "Do you mean to tell me you fucked him?"
"Well, yes I had to do that to him at first, but let me tell you," she confided, "he won't need any urging from now on."
Papa Etienne listened to the conversation in some surprise and then laughed heartily.
"So the young 'uns have had their fun too, eh? Well, well, well. I knew he had good blood, the younker. He couldn't resist anything like that pip." And he looked with admiration on the beautiful girl.
"Say, what was that game you were playing?" asked Christie.
"Why," the old man chuckled, "ain't you never seen no arse-fucking? Maybe it ain't so much fun for the lady, but it beats all the other kinds hollow for the man."
"Gee, I'd like to experience that once at least," thrilled Christie.
"Well, I can help you, if you want," said the old one.
Marie was shocked. "Nothin' doin' you old bastard. She ain't no coozy. You stick to th regulars, you old fuck."
"Well, I was only trying to help."
"Ain't you had enough," Marie retorted. "I don't see how you avoid wearing the damn thing off. You fucked, and arsed and rimmed. If there's any part of me you ain't had, it's because I ain't exposed it: That's enough for a day."
Papa Etienne grinned sheepishly. "I don't know where I get all the gism. But I always sez if you can still give the gals a thrill you ain't so old."
Seeing that she was not to experience the game, Christie didn't press the point any longer and left the two to wrangle to their heart's content. She left the room to go to her own where she thought the young fellow was still sleeping. She was surprised to find the room empty.
On the pillow of the bed she found a note on a piece of paper: "Darling little one," it said, "you gave me heaven and I'm eternally grateful. I have left you money to buy something for yourself. It's all I have now, but I will return from my next trip with the finest of everything I can pick up for you in the ports of the world. Thanks. Thanks again."
And next to the note lay a large fold of bills. She was surprised at the large sum it represented.
Followed days of hectic enjoyment. Other men came and went and Christie entered into what she still considered a game with complete and unadulterated pleasure. She was so young and lusty that she could not consider it work. And to be paid for it was a constant source of surprise to her.
It seemed that others were becoming aware of the new regime in the hostelry and during the next fortnight the callers were numerous and varied. And the coffers were again full and the establishment blooming.
Lola was still in a semi-coma and the doctor came frequently. She was no longer the large, bloated woman she had been. She had visibly begun to shrink and Christie saw with horror that her mother was slowly passing away.
One night, when the work of the day had been over for some time, she sat beside the bedside of the old woman and watched the pallid brow of the strumpet.
Lola was in a delirium and every once in a while she muttered, "She must never know. She must never know. Oh, if only she knew who her father was. Wasn't he a figure of a man?"
The girl did not at first catch the significance of the rambling, but after a while the repeated phrases began to eat into her consciousness. Why, her mother must be talking about her own father! Then she did know who he was. She had never spoken about him before. The girl had always thought he had died. That he was a gentleman she had surmised, but since Lola had never cared to particularize, she hadn't pressed her too much.
Now, however, she listened carefully.
"Sure, sure, my darling," the old woman continued to mutter as though talking to her, "your old man was a grand gentleman. He wasn't like them other pimps. He had noble blood. Noble blood. A duke, no less."
And she began to toss around in a reminiscent agony.
"And could he fuck. No one like him. All the others didn't even begin to get to me. They wuz like stone compared to him. I knew I was going to remember him all my life. I knew the time he gave me a real hot one that I was going to feel it forever. And then you came. I was shocked, sure. But I wasn't exactly surprised. He was the only one who could do it. I didn't never let the others get that close td me."
For some unearthly reason, Christie thoroughly understood that seemingly' incoherent raving. So she was different from her mother's friends and business companions. So she did have better blood.
She bent over and wiped the old woman's brow. A cold sweat seemed to ooze from every pore.
She heard a curious rattle in the old one's throat and bent closer. Lola was gasping, "I ain't sorry. I had a good time. Lola the Whore's had'a baby. I'm the only one who ever did in my line of business. I'm better than the others."
And the rattling noise grew louder. Suddenly she heard a gasp. Lola seemed to have difficulty catching her breath and then she opened her eyes.
"I'm goin', Christine," she whispered. "I'm goin' far away from you." And then she closed her eyes and when Christie seized her hand it was cold and lifeless.
Lola the extraordinary strumpet was gone.
All the joy seemed to have gone out of life for Christie.
She dried her eyes which had almost ceased to be able to tear. She only marvelled at the long procession that had followed the plain, humble hearse in which her mother was carried to her last resting place. It's true that those who followed the carriages seemed a bit furtive; that they were not all those whom society considers in the best odor, but all seemed possessed of real grief. Maybe her calling was on the seamy side, but those who had known her, had been comforted in times of sorrow and often been helped out of desperate straits by her understanding kindness and willingness to help.
Many were the whispered condolences. And it was certainly a fact that the chief mourners were men and that they were a motley crew Yet every one of them was imbued with the spirit of divine contrition. All knew that here was a soul that had been human, earthly and helpful, if not strictly moral. Some told her, in confidence, that they thought more of her than of the grandest ladies in the land.
"Yeah," said one buck, "I knew her and I ain't ashamed to say it. When my old woman was trying to blackmail me into getting something from me by refusing what God gave me the right to have, I wasn't worried. I knew where I could find sympathy and understanding-and something even a so-called decent woman wouldn't be able to give me. The difference between them was that the homebody had all the hidden vices of Lola and none of her good qualities."
But worst of all was the fact that the estab lishment broke up. Of course, the girl couldn't carry on. All the help left. The house appeared haunted and the coozies were a superstitious lot. They did not want to be in -a house of death.
Only Marie was faithful. And between them they could not continue the business.
Marie, however, knew the "ropes." For a while she supported Christie with her earnings gleaned from the streets of Paris. Nightly she would go out into the Avenues her face painted provocatively, her lips carmined so her trade could not be missed. And always she came back with a full purse.
But Christie could not 'accept favors from her forever.
She applied to various establishments for work, but having no trade, she remained unemployed, until Marie suggested that she knew the manager of a cabaret "Cafe du Nord."
Christie visited the man, who at once saw the potentialities in the girl, and hired her.
She became a sort of dancer and learned the simple routine of wiggling her half nude body to the fantastic rhythms of the jazz band, and to roll her eyes wickedly, while her face still kept that childishly innocent look. This soon made her the toast of the Cafe and brought her many admirers.
Then came a gentleman. He told her his name was Pepe. At least he said he wanted her to call him that. He lavished everything on her that money could buy. His store of it seemed inexhaustible.
He was no longer young and though she would not have refused him anything, he never asked her for anything.
He took her to places she had never been before, dined and wined her. She liked him too much to accept the many presents he showered on her.
Before long all the habitues of the Cafe du Nord kept away from her, for they seemed to realize that Chris had gotten herself a man and what a man. He was evidently more than just a gentleman. No one knew who he was, but everyone surmised that he must be some one of consequences. He monopolized her spare time and she seemed happy with him, so the young bucks steered clear of her.
She never knew that Pepe quietly bought off any competition. And if she had known, she would certainly have been highly complimented by the fact, and he would have become endeared to her.
He was not so ardent as a younger man might have been, but it was restful to be with him.
So, she met him every night after the show and went places with him she might never have been to alone. She never realized that the places he took her to were not the best spots in the city, nor that the glamor of them was a bit meretricious, but she did enjoy being with him.
And then one night he told her to meet him when the floor show was over, outside the Cafe.
He was taking her to some place he had wanted to show her for a long time. She would be thrilled. Yes, she consented. Any place the "old one" said. He was so pleasant about it, so polite, so kind and thoughtful, she couldn't refuse him anything.
The bright lights of the Casino du Nord were dimmed and the first pale streaks of dawn were covering the Avenue due la Gare with the dun light presaging a gray day, when from the side entrance of the Casino, a gay, lilting laugh broke the stillness of the early morning hour.
"Ah, Pepe, faithful old sweetheart," a young voice said to the elderly cavalier who waited beside the entrance, "you still here?"
"But yes, mon Cherie," the wistful tones of the old "angel" replied, "but where else shall I be, but waiting for you? I have been all a twitter with love for you. Come, my sweet, I have my cab waiting."
The girl-she could have been no more than seventeen in the light-tucked her arm into that of her escort and gayly tripped beside him until reaching the limousine, he gallantly raised his high hat and helped her into the luxurious interior. With a sigh, more wistful than sad, he sank down beside her.
With the whirring of the motor and its swift pace through the almost deserted streets, the man turned on the light, and its indirect beams disclosed the luscious bundle that was his companion.
A pair of large, saucer-like, sloe-black eyes, wide spaced and slightly slanting, served to bring out the pert, oval face. Heavy silken fringes covered those shining orbs and gave them a mystery that made the man's aging heart beat with a desire that was almost an ache.
She cuddled up beside him, pillowing her little head on his ample bosom. Every pulse in his body throbbed with ecstasy. That this little sprite should be his I Where and from what Heaven had she come thus into his heart? Of all the teeming millions in Paris, what windfall of Fate had brought him to this Elysium on earth?
He put his arm around her and was again surprised, as he always was, with the eternal wonder that such a small figure could be so rounded and well favored with the charms that were seldom given to any but the most statuesque Venuses. Cautiously, so as not to frighten her, he felt of her soft bosom, and was thrilled to feel her little hand press against his knotted one, as she pushed it into her bodice under the warm, fur coat. He felt, the hot, electric flesh of one font of joy and little prickles ran up and down his spine as its velvet contour fitted into his hand. He sensed a sudden stiffening of the pulsing globe and he fondled it with a downward motion until the tapering end came to a delicious point. He palpated the glorious nipple, until he felt an uncommon disturbance in the muscles under his abdomen. He was so astonished at that unwonted feeling, that he bent down with a glad cry to burrow his head in the satin depths she so tantalizingly pressed against him.
"But, mon cher," the girl whispered, as she slowly withdrew from his embrace. "You are too precipitate. I do believe you would rape me here in the car."
"Never, my angel, never," the old one panted. "Never would I harm a hair of your head, my little one. But I am human. You are So desirable. I just wanted to feel that little rosebud and kiss its tip with reverence."
She gave a little, silvery trill. "Come now, my bold one, there's no need for reverence. You have explored me before and if there is any further mystery about me, you will have to invent one. And besides, we are almost home. So bid your time."
He subsided with as good grace as the occasion allowed. The car drew to a stop without undue noise, before a large, imposing mansion.
On the iron, lattice-work gate, one could see a crest emblazoned in bronze. It was a coat of arms that was familiar to every Parisian as the hub cap of a world famous automobile.
It was the home of the Duc-du......, an ageing millionaire, famous alike for his philanthropy as for his philandering.
The butler opened the heavy doors with a bland, unconcerned, but respectful face that came of long training.
"Good evening, your Grace-and Madame," he whispered, taking the gentleman's cane, hat and overcoat, while at the same time helping the girl out of her wrap.
"We will dine in the Rose Room, Henri," his master told him. "And when you have served, you may go back to your quarters. We are not to be disturbed."
Henri nodded his head, his face a blank,-indicating only by the sardonic twinkle in his eye, that he understood the Due perfectly. "Oui, your Grace. I have anticipated your desires. Dinner will be served in a moment."
After a most delightful repast, plentifully interspaced with fondling and kissing, the Due escorted her to her boudoir, kissed her longingly and lingeringly and departed.
A slight sound coming from the door apprized her of the fact that she had an old but anxious admirer watching through the keyhole. Slowly undressing she started a most tantalizing dance that would raise a hard-on on a brass monkey.
Involuntarily the Due began to keep time with his own body, to the rhythm of that undulating movement of the little houri. The vixen, assured that her admirer was glued to the keyhole took an unconscionably long time to undress, caressing each bare, uncovered part as she peeled the clinging fabric first from her rounded arms and then from her luscious, velvety thighs.
As she took one little mincing step forward, she dropped the silky covering to the ground and then with a feline motion, raised her arms, slouching forward a bit, coyly crossing one thigh as if to conceal something precious. The Due felt a burning sensation course down his diaphragm, in little trickles, until the agitation centered in the nerve cluster under his abdomen. Without will or notion, he put his hand forward as if to ease the unwonted pain and wonders to behold, the organ he thought long without life or vigor, responded like something manly and virile.
The delightful wanton must, by some telepathy of the senses, have realized the effect she was having on her escort of the evening, for languidly she bent her arms back and released the thin string of her brassier, which fell from her and fluttered in the warm air of the room like some leaf in a summer breeze. Then, almost with a sigh, she cupped one beautiful breast in her sweet young hand, and lightly and lovingly massaged that peach-bloom sphere until it stood out full and free like some juicy fruit from its bud. She cupped her other young breast with her free hand, and then lazily allowed one hand to pass lightly down her abdomen, following the countour of that heavenly curve until it rested against her groin.
No longer able to contain himself, the ancient cavalier, burst into the room.
"Darling," he cried, "I can wait no longer. I must hold you in my arms or find this rheumy old heart giving way. I am frantic with love for you."
The girl yielded prettily and draped her youthful form against the outline of his body. She saw that the Due was in a dither of excitement and she allowed him to lay her gently on the bed.
"But, mon Ami," she laughed delightedly, "you are younger that I thought. You are simply ravenous. You do not even give me time to undress." And then contritely, "But, my dear one, you will help me, ne cest pas?"
Tenderly the nobleman laid trembling hands on the diaphanous step-ins in which her shapely limbs were clothed. Feverishly he undid the clasp and with a childish joy, looked down upon her bared cunt, almost drooling as he saw the curly tendrils which adorned the Gates of Eden. They were aglow with a sheen and purity that almost made his heart stand still.
He palpated the labia' with agitant hand and their warmth and dewy softness sent a wave of madness through his veins.
"Oh, the glory of it," he breathed, and he bent down to kiss each glowing part.
"You like it?" she whispered.
"Like it?" he breathed, "I'm mad about it. Why, sweet child, you are exquisite. Never, never have I seen such a triangle, so firm and yet so soft, so full and yet so delicate. The Gods of Love and Life have been good to you." And he fell again to kissing and caressing the surface, fondling each silky strand as if it were some precious golden fiber. He reverently separated the two lips with aching fingers and then gazed into the pink depths with a curiosity that, was hardly consonant with the experience his age warranted.
"Wonderful," he whispered, "wonderful. Like a beautiful rose. And what fragrance. Ah dear one, do not tell me that other birds have dipped into this chalice and sipped of its nectar."
The girl giggled deliciously. "Ah, you men," she laughed. "Always wanting to be the first to discover unknown land. Does the grass always grow greener on a desert isle?"
"But my sweet," he cried, "let me but taste of the honey in the cup." With an avid tongue he searched into every corner of that sacred urn, savoring its sweetness, and until finally he lit on a little mound that rose out of the center like a little bud. He felt a tiny dent in the center of it and there was a throb to it that electrified him. It was so much like the nipple of her breast, that he pursed his mouth and drew on it gently. Suddenly he discovered that the girl's body was moving up and down, up and down with a rotary movement. Never in his wildest moments had he experienced such a sensation. It was as if the whole world were in tune with his delight. A singing and a ringing in his ears told him that he was getting a bit dizzy. And then he felt a tautness in the tiny organ and a minute trickle of some thick fluid. The girl's body had relaxed; she lay as in a swoon.
"Darling," he cried as he desisted from his labor of love, "you are not asleep?"
Her lips moved. They murmured, "My sweet, my sweet old one. It was glorious. Lie down beside me and just hold my breasts."
He lay down next to her and caressed her quivering globes. They were hot and firm. He began to notice that his own organ was playing him a merry tune and the restriction of his clothes, which he had neglected to remove, were causing him , extreme discomfort. H began removing his garments slowly, so as not to disturb his mood, when he felt a slight breeze over his face.
He sat upright, still holding a lovely breast in one hand, and there in the open doorway stood a distinguished lady. Her arched neck, and grey hair piled high on a shapely head betokened breeding and noble birth. A bust encased in a green velvet bodice, high in the Empire style, and a long train completed an ensemble that spoke of quiet, good taste and expensive tailoring.
"Don't mind me," she laughed in a quiet tone, "go right ahead, Armand. Amuse yourself, but don't overtax the child."
The girl sat up with a start and was about to spring from the bed, meanwhile drawing a part of the coverlet over her nude body, when the lady walked over to the bed, and with a twinkle in her eye, reassured the frightened young thing.
"You are not afraid of-me, my dear?" she queried. "You may uncover for me. You see, I am the Due's wife, and I am very much interested in seeing for myself just what you have that attracts my Armand to you."
The girl was panic-stricken, expecting any moment to be struck by the quiet lady. Her calm was a stronger whip than a scourge.
"But, Madame, I-I-I," she stammered.
"Don't. Don't try to explain. I believe I understand perfectly. Your charms, my child, are obvious. You are beautiful. You are young and your body is like something modeled in alabaster."
"Armand," she turned to her husband, "would you mind very much, dear, if I asked you to leave me alone with this gorgeous child?"
The girl was scared. Her saucer-like eyes were filled with unutterable anguish. She feared to be alone with this woman, whom she took to be outraged. But she could not open her mouth to protest.
The Duc docilely obeyed and left the room.
"Now, child," said the Duchess, seating herself on the edge of the bed, "I don't want you to think me odd because I do not rave or rant and scratch out your eyes. I'm not an ugly old harridan, am I?"
"No, no, your Grace," the girl cried, "but please let me go. Really I didn't know that he had a wife, or that this was you: hums. I wouldn't have come . . ."
"Certainly. That's understandable," the other agreed. "But don't fret, I'm not going to punish you. I believe you have done a worthwhile thing for Armand."
The girl was amazed. Actually the Duchess was not angry at all. She could hardly believe her senses.
"Worthwhile?" she repeated. "I do not understand."
"You see, dear, for years the Due and myself have not slept together. Unfortunately neither Armand nor myself have had the slightest sex attraction for each other from the very first day we were married. You must understand that ours was a marriage of convenience. It's quite common in our sphere of life. And lately I have seen dear Armand suffering from lack of feminine companionship. I would have wished for no better relationship than that which you have with my husband. You are young, very pretty, full of joie de vivre and can give him something he has missed in his life for many years."
"But, your Grace," the girl said a little shamefacedly; "we did not actually have any relations such as woman has with man."
"Oh, I know," the Duchess replied. "I witnessed the whole affair."
She raised a protesting hand. "Don't be foolish enough to apologize. I understand perfectly. Certainly you did not. You couldn't because poor Armand is a bit too old to enjoy his sex experiences in the ordinary fashion. But you have given him all he could possibly desire. To him you are a paradise in which he may browse at will and enjoy pleasures that only youth can bring him."
She caressed the shapely form of the girl, touching her velvety skin and lifting each perfect breast, fondling each rosy nipple with a motherly hand. "Why, you are delicious. I could blame no one for finding an elysium in you. You are the crystallization of all that is beautiful in the feminine form."
"Come, my child," she continued, "just slip into your underthings and I will give you a negligee, so that we can talk some more."
It was all delightful. There was a certain, magnetic something that exhuded from this stately woman that somehow attracted the girl. Her hands were soft as eider-down and her caress sent ripples of delight coursing down her sleek body.
The older woman helped her into her stepins, fondly touching the girl's thighs, feeling the faint down that covered them and com meriting on their perfection.
She gave the girl a transparent dressing gown that draped her youthful figure and brought out each curve in startling outline.
"You must be tired, child," she told her. "Come to my room and you can spend the rest of the night in my bed."
The Duchess led her into another boudoir that was tastefully furnished and was delicately scented, making the girl's senses swim.
Against one wall of the room was a large bed covered with a silken and embroidered canopy, the hangings of a sort of silk voile so arranged that they could be lowered or raised by a drawstring. The coverlet was of a fine chenille and in the center it had the ducal crest embroidered in fine chenille tufts.
A maid, who had come at the lady's pull of the bell-cord, conducted the girl to a bathroom off the boudoir. It was large and highceiled and the walls, and ceiling were tiled in rosecolored tiles. The floor was patterned in mosaics with rosettes in vari-colored small tile.
The maid turned on the water and waited until the bath was half full, then dipped her arm into it up to her elbow testing its temperature. Satisfied, she then dropped a myriad lavender and rose crystals into the water, which thereupon gave off a sweet, delicate odor. She helped the girl to undress and gently aided her into the bath.
Embarrassed, the girl turned to the maid, as if expecting her to leave, but the other stood by with a smile.
"I shall help you, Madame," she said.
Before the girl could do or say anything, the maid began to soap her body with a soft sponge and scented soap, gently massaging her arms and back, and then laved them with the water. Then she began to wash each lovely breast, stroking it softly as if it were something precious, drawing the soap to each tip. She then reached into the water and massaged each shapely limb and finally began to wash her abdomen, working downward. The movement was so gentle and caressing that a sweet languor began to steal over the girl. She leaned back, stretching her body out into the bath, while the maid kept quietly rubbing her abdomen and then her organ. The soap was not the kind that bites and stings and the delicate tissues of her organ felt refreshed and soothed. The lips opened and contracted with every motion.
At length she rose from-the bath and the maid enveloped her in a large Turkish towel Dry, she was then scented and perfumed until her body glistened and shone like some luminous orb, beauteous to the eye and sweet to the nostrils. The maid then touched each little nipple of her breasts with a perfumed unguent and then softly rouged the area around each nipple. When she looked into the large wall mirror which covered one wall of the bathroom, she was amazed at the beauty of her body. It was a beautiful, healthy pink, and the breasts stood out like large, perfect, ripe peaches, only the nipples jutted out at an angle and were colored gold. They were so perfect and kissable that the maid stood transfigured with admiration.
"Ah, Madam," she sighed, "you are so beautiful."
A discreet cough broke in on them, and the Duchess appeared in the doorway.
"Now, my child," she said, "you are ready for bed. Go to sleep and may sweet dreams attend you."
With the morning came the realization that she was in a menage that was as different from anything she had ever know, as was the tawdry life of her mother and her strumpets from the calm, serene course of this noblewoman's ordered existence.
There was no tension in the atmosphere. It was, to the young girl, like coming out of a storm into a cool pergola in a formal garden, protected, safe and warm.
At the breakfast table, such was the calmness of their demeanor, that even this waif out of the dregs of human existence, felt no nervousness. She could see that no single reference by word or deed would be made of the occurrence of the evening and night before, and that she would be accepted as an honored guest.
Milady was charming and treated her entirely as one of the family, plied her with every viand on the table and put herself out to make her stay as pleasant as possible.
After breakfast the two women retired to the lounging room, the Duchess arrayed in a charming negligee that failed to conceal her stately figure.
"My dear," she told Christie, "I do not know what your plans are, nor would I want to obtrude myself into your affairs, but I would like to have you stay with us for as long as you want."
"But, your Grace," Christie replied, "you know I am employed as a dancer in the Cafe du Nord and I cannot very well stay away whenever I feel like it."
"Ah, but why?" the other said softly.
"Well, you know, or perhaps you do not, that I work for a living. The work is not of the pleasantest, but-" with a laugh, "one must eat."
The Duchess moved nearer to her on the settee and took her hand.
"My dear child," she said warmly, "you know that we are childless. We live in this great, big mansion-beautiful perhaps, but like some railroad terminal-with no one but servants to attend us and time hanging heavy on our hands. Believe me, I have always wanted to do something that would make my life more interesting. Why, don't you come to stay with us permanently?"
Christie was astounded. The whole situation was taking on a garish hue. She, a piece of debris from the streets of Paris, found in the embrace of this lady's husband, offered a home by the woman she had wronged! And she could not help but believe that she had done this great lady a fearful wrong-coming to her house and intruding her profane presence into the hallowed atmosphere.
"But, your Grace," she cried, "you do not know what you are saying. You have already been too good to me. I certainly could not have expected you to allow me to stay one momentafter yesterday," and she had the grace to blush, even if prettily.
"Oh, that!" the Duchess said with a wave of her hand, "please don't give that a thought. You know I was sincere when I told you that you did something for Armand that I should be grateful for. I am, indeed. And it is for that very reason I want you to stay here. He would surely want you-and I would really consider you as my own daughter."
The tears came readily to the girl's eyes and she seized the lady's hand and kissed it fervently.
"You are so good to me, that I feel even more guilty."
The other was stern. "I absolutely forbid you to think anything like that at all. You are a heavenly vessel given to humans for their delectation, child. You were made for pleasure. I'm not a prude. I have been all over the world. I have learned to be broadminded and tolerant. If not, my whole life has been a failure. Come, come, now, you must stay with us. We shall make every effort to keep you in every comfort. You shall be our child-my very own daughter."
She took the girl in her arms and pressed her against her breast. There was such a warmth emanating from this noble person, that the child threw her arms around the lady's neck and wept. A delicious sense of protection enveloped her-a warm feeling of having found a haven of security.
Then followed days of unalloyed pleasure. The Dutchess insisted on having her call her
Elise and she in turn called the girl-Angel. "You are an angel, darling," she said to her. "You are my very own, little cherub."
The Duke, of course, was delighted with the arrangement. He thrilled to her nearness and caressed her with even greater warmth. With the full knowledge and consent of his wife, he lavished gifts of great value on her.
At first, the child felt self-conscious about his embraces, but seeing that the Dutchess smiled genially every time her husband took the girl in his arms, she lost her unreasoning stiffness and began to blossom under the effulgent rays of their pleasure.
A delightful camaraderei grew up between the trio. The Dutchess encouraged her to be less and less prudish and they all went around in the privacy of their sitting rooms in more or less deshabille.
One night, while she was fast asleep in her sumptuous boudoir, scented and curried, like some fine brood mare, ensconced in the depths of her warm silken pillows, she felt a soft body slide next to her. As she slept completely nude she felt the soft touch of another nude body against hers. Even in her slumber she could not quite help having a delicious thrill run up and down her spine. This body beside her was so soft and yielding. She awoke with a start.
In the dimness of the room, she could make out the contour of a feminine body.
A soft pair of lips, full and hot were kissing her throat and soft, warm arms were encircling her waist and holding her gently in an enveloping fold.
"Don't be frightened, darling," the gentle voice of the Duchess whispered in her ear. "I just wanted to hold you. I am so lonesome."
The girl couldn't very well have refused, even if she had been inclined to do so. This fine woman had endeared herself to the homeless waif-had taken her in and given her the freedom of her home and been as good to her as any mother. A fine feeling of affection coursed through her body. She, too, kissed the lady in return and threw her arms about the older woman.
But the other did not hold her in the manner of a mother fondling a child. A feverish heat seemed to emanate from her body and after a while her lips were glued to the girl's, while her tongue quested in the recesses of the child's mouth, hungrily sucking on her tongue. Nothing like this fervid heat had ever struck Christie. Even the Signor Picarelli gave off a faint glow by comparison. It was devastating and through it all Christie couldn't help but marvel at the vigor of this midle aged aristocrat.
"Always," the noblewoman whispered, "always I have wanted to hold a child in my arms. My body ached for such as you. Look," she was fiercely urgent, "my breasts are bursting with desire to have you hold them. I want to feel your beloved lips on them, just as if you were my little child feeding at them."
She pushed one glorious mound, blue-veined and exquisite, between the girl's lips and the nipple stood erect and heroic, begging for the other's tongue. Christie held the throbbing nipple between her teeth and hungrily fed on it, although no liquid came therefrom. There was, however, a pulsating, palpitating electricity that communicated itself to her from the contact. The Duchess fed her the other sphere and she soon experienced an exquisite agony of suspense.
"Look, darling," the older woman whispered, as she disengaged her velvet globe from the girls pliant mouth. She lay on her back, threw back the covers, stretched her legs apart and disclosed the most perfect triangle that it was the girl's pleasure to have seen. It was hairless and smooth as that of an infant. It was in a remarkable state of preservation, as though those sacred preserves had never been profaned by any human organ. Evidently it was a secret, unpoached Eden that the noblewoman had guarded a long time. Some depilatory had made it as fine and satiny as gossamer.
"Have you ever seen anything like this, my sweet," the older woman throbbed. "Never has any male even seen this triangle of mine. No penis has ever entered its portals. Touch it darling with your tiny fingers."
She stretched a little wider and the by now feverish girl looked avidly at the beautiful labia, pink-tipped and shaped almost like the mouth of a child. The lady had even preserved the illusion, by limning the outlines of the lips with a delicate lipstick. Inside a pristine clitoris loomed large and clean. A subtle perfume issued from the depths of that pirogue. It looked, as it smelt, a fragrant flower.
"Feel it with your tongue," the lady begged. And by now Christie was so worked up that she gladly bent down and put her mouth to it. She pushed her tongue alongside the pulsing clitoris, which wonderfully seemed to expand and grow out until it filled her mouth like a male penis. A fine stream of saline liquid kept oozing from the little orifice in the center of that clitoris. All the while, the Duchess kept writhing orgiastically, increasing her movement as the girl's mouth grew more urgent. Then, finally, as a spent arrow, her body fell flat, while her velvety legs drew together, enveloping Christie's little oval face as would the arms of a lover, gently and caressingly.
At long last the two slept in each other's arms till the dawn's light came faintly streaming through the long windows.
When they roused, Christie was hardly sated and the Duchess saw it.
"Dear child, little lover," she whispered, kissing her. "I have sadly neglected you. I have taken every sweet you have given me but have given nothing in return."
"No, no," Christie murmured politely, but she couldn't help but agree.
"But I'm going to make up, sweetheart," replied the Duchess. "Watch me closely."
She thereupon took from a pocket in her negligee an odd instrument which she allowed Christie to examine. It was made of a soft, spongy rubber and shaped exactly as a man's penis. It was long-longer than any male's prick the girl had ever seen, and was coated with a fine, oily substance, cleverly simulated to be like the fluid that covers a penis in the depths of a woman's cunt. At one end it had a flat, sucker-like pad that had curved ends.
The Duchess fitted the pad into her vagina and marvel to behold, the spongy, rubber" penis, stood out from her body like any bold male's organ. She adjusted it, so that it was rigid.
"Now, darling, let me get on top of you," she said.
The girl was entranced. The Duchess got astride Chris and began slowly and carefully to manipulate the penis as if it were flesh and blood. The soft, oily surface was soothing and delicious. The greasy substance emanated a warmth-producing sensation.
The lady kept working it up and down, side wise and downward, until the walls of the girl's cunny began to itch with delight. Withal Chris had the exquisite pleasure of holding the Duchess' body, soft and pliant in her arms, while her hands could work pinchingly on the lady's splendid buttocks, which were not too large but luscious. Too, while she was being fucked, the lady's teats kept plunging themselves into her mouth. She now had the extreme pleasure of being maled and femaled, as if by two sexes at once.
There never was any such joy. No hard, male hair to bruise and maul her, and yet the sensation was as exquisite and soul-satisfying as if some great stallion had fecundated her.
It was a dream come true.
The rubber penis held true to its course and finally with a gasp of utter delight, Christie felt herself "coming" with many jerks and sighs. She was further surprised when the Duchess touched some portion of the penis and it squirted a delightful liquid which seemed healing and soothing into her throbbing cunny.
The illusion was perfect. No man could have given her such pleasure.
The rest of the night, or rather day was a delirious dream. The two women lay in each other's arms like two perfect lovers.
From then on came a period of pleasure and joy, punctuated by her dutiful assistance to the old Duke that gave her a glow of satisfaction. He seemed happy at last and treated her also like a combination child and lover. He was gallante and fervent by turns. Nothing that money could buy was too good for her.
And the Duchess was both motherly and as warm to her as any sweetheart. It was an ideal arrangment.
Christine soon forgot her eventful past. She was enveloped in the lap of luxury, coddled and cozened like any child of the extremely wealthy, surrounded with every comfort and convenience that money could buy. She was cradled in love and adoration. She was ac
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