Chapter 6
Fifteen minutes later I was neatly seated between Mrs. Bayer and George on the soft cushions of her handsome Rolls-Royce. Mrs. Bayer the famed director of the Bayer House of Lingerie was at the wheel.
She was more than just pleasant. She gave me the impression in a few minutes as though I had known her for years. She questioned me thoroughly. What did I do in life? What were my ambitions? etc. She was very open and she had an amazing frankness about her.
When she learned that I was not making very much in the hospital, she asked me if I didn't want to change jobs and she even promised to look after me.
"You are just a young girl. I believe you're intelligent and you should't spend your entire life just vegetating away as a nurse in a rundown hospital," she advised me.
I thanked her and was confused by the compliment. When the car turned sharply, the knee of the charming Mrs. Bayer bounced up against mine. Right through the garment I could feel a burning sensation that did not at all displease me.
"Besides you're very well made, my dear. Now don't say no, I've carefully looked you over. And after all it is my job to know attractive girls. I'm sure George approves of what I am saying. You see, George who already known you is of the same opinion." She was very free with her talk.
I blushed and I didn't want to contradict my fellow companions who were awfully nice to me.
In spite of everything the leg of the complimentary Mrs. Bayer sank into mine and she seemed not to notice it at all for she continued to drive the car calmly.
There was a force in this woman that was almost an unnatural mystic and physical power. I felt it cr®ep within me. Her leg trapped me and I was filled with all kinds of secret desires. I wanted to spring upon her and cover her with a thousand kisses.
Just at the moment when my thoughts almost became an automatic action, George's leg caught up against mine. I looked over at him, but he was just looking out the window indifferently. I was wondering whether he was only interested in the nocturnal landscape. Suddenly his hand reached up underneath my skirt and his soft hand slid along my thigh.
My first movement was that of bringing my knees together in order to restrict this intrusion. Then I would have to wrestle with the muscular writer and finally be forced to give into him. But his fingers where already at my cunt and entangled in my hairy bush.
George Monk excited me very quickly and especially with the automobile's movement. This added to the charm that we already have known together.
I was quite aware of the woman's leg to the right of me. It was impossible to deny it.
She intrigued me infinitely more than my partner. I was hoping to win her friendship for she was occupying all my thoughts. Although George was feeling me up and down, the superb lady besides me was already possessing my troubled soul.
Mrs. Bayer kept quiet, as if she saw or at least could guess what George was doing. I was excited by what George was doing with me, but was suffering somewhat because he was performing this in front of the woman I esteemed. She did not merit this and our comportment was abominable. I was tortured by the idea she might have entertained concerning me.
At least George could have behaved delicately. He was rubbing my clitoris and entering my vagina just to the hilt as though we were perfectly alone.
Fortunately, the lovely leg of Madame Bayer was glued to my own and the warmth she communicated helped me translate the excitation that was provoked by the writer.
I arched back with as much sentiment as though it were she who was masturbating me and as though it were for her my gratification had no bounds.
But George grabbed my hand and put it on his stiff and burning sex. He had the audacity to take it out of his pants even though the night was black as pitch. I pushed him away, but he forced me to hold on to his penis. I didn't want to create a scene in her car so I gave into the perverse George.
He wasn't content to have his member just squeezed normally. No, he wanted it rubbed with loving fingers. Always afraid of creating a scandal, I agreed to his wishes and treated him royally.
In the dark, as Madame Bayer conducted us to her villa I massaged the full-grown prick of the blissful writer.
But if the right hand was busy, at least the left hand was free. Instinctively it crept over to Mrs. Bayer's leg.
In spite of the skillful caress applied by my writer friend, all my attention was directed toward the female beside me. My fingers brushed over the hem of her garment and slowly reached her thighs.
With great caution I caressed the silk hose and the flesh of the capable chauffeur. She let out a sigh and it was a sign that permitted me to continue. With one hand that freed itself from the steeing wheel, she grasped my wrist. Did she want me to discontinue with my loving exploits or was it the contrary -to go on to greater horizons?
I kept up my work dutifully with George and he had a premature ejaculation. My hand became sticky with his thick, whitish sperm. He disgusted me there. At least he was gallant enough to dry my hand off with his handkerchief.
During this time Mrs. Bayer showed unusual discretion by ignoring all the turmoil that George and I had caused.
She pressed her legs together and kept a tight grip on my wrist.