Chapter 6
So, having returned from Cannes, I made my inventory: I had covered half of Carla's list-and in doing so, had committed adultery, had an evening (gratis) with a whore, posed for nude photographs, and heard a number of strange tales and encountered several very curious people. Half the list done, and yet three more visits remained to be made, as well as a trip to a village near the Spanish border.
The fourth name was Rex Baxter-obviously either an American or an Englishman. I rang him up the morning after I returned to Paris.
"Hello," he said in a crisp pleasant British voice.
"Mr. Baxter?"
"That's right."
"My name is Cunningham: Howard Cunningham I'm an old friend of Carla's-"
"Carlo's! Good heavens. Do you know I was just reading about her in the newspapers the other day."
"Awful, isn't it?"
"Hideous. Who did you say you were?"
"Howard Cunningham."
He hummed across the wire an instant. "I say, I have heard that name before."
"From Carla. I'm an old, old boy-friend of hers."
"Oh, of course. That's it. You threw her over, didn't you-or something like that."
"In a way. Look here, do you think I might come over and see you for an hour or so?"
"Certainly. Delighted. Can you come along right now?"
"Yes, I can."
"Good. Do you have the address."
"Yes, Carla left it for me."
"Then I'll be expecting you."
I walked to Baxter's place. His apartment was in a house which overlooked the Tuileries. Baxter himself answered my ring.
"Come right in," he said.
He was a short, slight, blonde man with rather feminine features. He could have been a well-preserved fifty or an ill-used twenty-five; actually-I think he was not mote than thirty-there was a certain awkwardness in his manner which had not yet been rubbed away.
Leading me into the enormous, sunny salon which looked down upon the Tuileries, he said:
"You know, I do renumber Carla having said something about your coming to visit me one day. But I thought surely it would never happen. Please sit down. What will you drink?"
"I really don't-"
"How about some nice tomato juice-in token of the morning-spiked with vodka: in token of the sunshine."
"All right," I agreed.
He left the room and returned after a moment with two glasses filled with dazzling red liquid.
"Blood and spirit. To Carla's inevitable end," he toasted. "Forgive my indelicacy." We drank.
"Now," he said, drawing his chair up beside mine, "tell me what I can do for you."
"Well, Carla left me a letter, listing your name among others. Her request was that you tell me of your relationship with her."
"Yes?"
"That's all. The rest is up to you. If you're willing-"
"Of course I'm wiling." He paused. "The only thing is that it is such an odd tale...."
"After the other stories I've heard of Carla's adventures, nothing could shock me."
"Perhaps not. But I'm not quite sure. In any case, I will tell you all there is to tell, but you must assure me that if you are shocked, you will stop me. I simply couldn't go on talking to a horrified audience."
"Yes. I agree. In the unlikelihood that I'm shocked, I'll stop you."
And so, for the fourth time, I settled back with a drink in my hand to Hear a tale of Carla's lust:
First of all, Mr. Cunningham, I must give you some idea of myself. I am an individual for whom love is indivisible. That is to say, for me sex is equally agreeable whether with woman, man, child, beast-or even objects or corpses. Everything on earth has a certain irresistible appeal for me. I will exclude nothing or no one from my bed. I've always been this way: nature, as you know, shapes the libertine in childhood. My first memories of sex, in fact, go back to my mother's dearth-or immediately afterward, when my brutal drunken father raped me not one night but many nights. When he remarried, his new wife took me as husband in the afternoons. At school, I was corrupted by (or, to tell the truth, I corrupted) teachers and students alike. I was, and am, insatiable. And what is more: I create insatiability in many people I meet.
After the war I came to Paris, a student of little means. Some of my money came from admirers, for even the French took a certain interest in me. Shall I describe all my degenerate ways to you? Let me give you one example, one that goes back to 1947.
I had fallen in with a rather wealthy group of people. The richest of them all was a woman named Marcelle. That was in the spring; and one day she told me that she was planning a costume ball at her home in the country. Would I come? she asked. Needless to say, I was delighted. Having little money of my own, I set to work putting together a costume for myself. I had chosen to go as Cinderella, and I worked a good many hours on the gown and on a wig of white wool. By the time the day of the ball arrived, I was ready to appear as a most ravishing Cinderella.
Being short, and having small features, I knew I would be able to deceive strangers into thinking I was a woman. But I wanted also to deceive those I did know. To do this required a feat of makeup, and I labored lengthily over this, putting layers of powder upon my face to conceal my beard, wearing much color on my eyes. The result, extraordinary as it may seem, was a perfect woman. My bodice was filled out with two false rubber breasts whose shape and texture was so uncanny that, after taking on my body's warmth, even I was deceived by them.
Masked, I arrived at Marcelle's home, and in fact no one did recognize me. Those, whom I knew looked at me curiously, then turned to one another and asked who I could be. I danced with men and women alike, and I deceived everyone. How splendid it is to be at once known and unknown, to be both man and woman. Needless to say, I was so taken with myself that I paid very little attention to others.
That is to say: until just before midnight-at which time the most extraordinary man appeared in the ballroom. He was dressed as Robin Hood, was masked and bearded. The tights he wore were so revealing that everyone's eyes were glued to the man's genitals. I confess that I was overwhelmed, and taking advantage of the situation, I walked over to him, wondering how far I dared go without giving myself away.
"Good evening, Robin Hood," I said to him.
"Good evening, Cinderella." He bowed to me and I bowed back.
"I am sure I know who you are," I whispered, not having any idea, but in order to keep the conversation going.
"Who am I?"
"You are-you're Jules de Marville."
He laughed; it was a soft, musical laugh. "No, I'm not de Marville. And all the Jules are in your eyes."
"Robin Hood can really flatter," I said rather nervously.
"I never flatter. It's quite true. But you haven't guessed who I am."
"Well, if you're not de Marville, I can't imagine who you are."
"Then, shall we make a deal?"
"Perhaps...."
"I'll trade my name for yours."
"Oh, no," I said. "That's no trade. I'm Cinderella and no one else."
"In that case, Cinderella, will you dance with one who is neither Marville nor Robin Hood?"
We walked to the center of the floor and he put his arms around me, drawing me close to him. Almost the moment we were together I was amazed to sense the pressure of his rock-hard tool against me. What an irresistible woman I had turned out to be! My difficulty was, however, that, while dancing, my own penis had begun to stiffen, and I feared that, should he feel it, I might end the evening with nothing more romantic than a black eye.
"Let's go out into the garden," I said, interrupting the dance.
"I should love to."
We walked out with his arm round me. Since there were many couples in the area immediately around the house, we strolled for five or six minutes before sitting down on a rough wooden bench in a concealed part of the garden.
"What a wonderful night it is," he said, his arm dropping from my shoulder to my waist.
"Yes, it is," I agreed, rather breathlessly. I knew we would not spend the rest of the evening discussing the weather, and I wondered what I might do when his embraces would begin threatening to give my secret away. What would I do if he tugged at my breasts and found them removable? What would I do if he longed to touch a woman's soft places and found instead some-thing as hard as the instrument that even now bulged from his loins?
Without thinking, madly attracted to the very bulge I've just mentioned, I reached out and put my hand over his tights. The length and thickness of his penis dazzled me, and I realized what I had done and pulled my hand away.
"No," he said. "Don't stop."
"I mustn't," I said.
"Why mustn't you, for heaven's sake?" I shook my head. "I can't explain. I simply mustn't. Believe me."
His arms went round me in a powerful grasp, and he pulled my face to his, bringing our mouths together. I tried to keep my mouth closed to his insistent tongue, but its sweetness coaxed my lip's, and at last I relented, relaxed the drawbridge of my teeth, and allowed him into the castle of my mouth. Our tongues met and lapped at each other until I was blind with passion. Suddenly I felt his hand moving along my neck, descending along my chest. In a moment, it would grope into my bodice.
I'm lost, I thought. Lost.
Terrified, I wanted to break away, but passion refused to allow me, and I gave myself recklessly to the kiss, pushing inevitability out of my mind.
With calm certainty, his hand dug down my dress and took the firm warm rubber breast in his hand. He didn't seem to notice anything unusual, and with relief, I threw caution to the winds and let my hand stray once again to the tremendous lump in his loins.
After a moment, his hand released my breast and soon reappeared at my ankle. It strayed upward, sliding over calf and knee, and then gently, with infinite tenderness, stroked my thigh. I snapped my legs together with violent determination.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You mustn't touch me there."
"Why not? I want to."
"No, please."
"Surely there must be some explanation. I know you desire me."
"Yes, I do,, but-"
"But what? Tell me."
And then I had an incredibly brilliant idea.
'You can't," I said. "Because-"
"Because why?"
"It embarrasses me to say it."
"Nonsense. You mustn't feel embarrassed with me. Please tell me."
Lovingly, coaxingly, he planted little moist kisses along my neck. "Tell me," he said.
"Well, the truth is-I'm having my period."
He burst into laughter. "Do you think a little blood would frighten me?"
"It's not only you-but I myself can't bear to be touched there at these times."
"Let me, and I'll show you the pleasures of it."
"No, no." And then, gathering my courage, I made the recommendation I had been longing to make from the moment I saw him. "But there are other ways."
"Other ways?"
"Yes, other passageways through which your passion may travel." He smiled. "I understand."
We were silent as I stood up and knelt before the bench, leaning my elbows on the rough wood. He knelt behind me and I felt him lift my gown. Gently, he lowered the panties I wore and pressed his warm lips upon my buttocks. Then he paused and I trembled at the sound of his own clothing being lowered.
His hands went again to my flesh and drew my buttocks wide. I felt the enormous head of his penis touch my delicate flesh. He thrust, once and again, ripping me, and inserting his length into me. Bound together, we remained motionless. Then his arms went round me to fondle my breasts; but. only one hand stayed at my breasts, the other descended, descended, descended.
So taken was I with my role of woman that I completely forgot what my lover's hand would touch as it reached for moisture. I allowed him to descend, and then suddenly awoke to the realization that his fingers were in contact with my enflamed member. Utterly terrified, I wrenched my hips forward and tore his penis out of me. I jumped to my feet, pulling my panties up, expecting the blows to start falling. But when I looked at my Robin Hood, he was still on his knees, his tremendous tool outstretched before him; but instead of expressing fury, he was shaking with laughter.
"You're not angry?" I asked.
"Angry?" He could hardly speak for laughing.
"Yes."
He controlled himself slightly. "Why should I be angry of all things?"
"Because I deceived you."
"But you haven't deceived me."
"I haven't-" I was dumbfounded. "You mean you knew all along that I wasn't a woman?"
"Of course I knew. Dear boy, as it has turned out, it's I who've deceived you."
"You? But how?"
And, bursting into laughter once more, he rose to his feet, and from round his plump fleshy hips unstrapped the belt to which was tied the pink rubber penis, perpetually erect. Once it was gone, what remained was a woman's triangle of hair within her loins.
"You're a woman," I said.
"Of course I am. My name is Carla."
Now it was my turn to laugh, and I did so lengthily.
"I came to this party," she said, "with the express aim of doing something I've always longed to do: to fuck a man. I hope you'll be good enough to allow me to complete a job that was so well begun."
"With the greatest pleasure."
She readjusted her dildo and we sank back into position. Once more the rubber penis was driven into my bowels, but this time, when Robin Hood's hand reached round, I waited with delight for Carla's fingers to circle my rod. Thus, pumping and pulling, Carla continued driving at me until my fluid watered the ground beneath us.
Afterwards J she said: "I realize that your tool is less mighty than mine, but I'm sure it can give me as much pleasure as mine has given you. If you don't mind, of course."
And, to show her how little I minded, I began at once to pull her costume from her; and she joined the disrobing by pulling my gown from me. We were not still until Cinderella and Robin Hood lay flung upon the ground, and Carla and I stood facing each other. Her full, mature body glowed at me. My hands reached forward, circling her swollen globes. We drew closer, flesh meeting flesh, my penis firm against her belly. Our lips glued together, tongues circling. My fingers ran the length of her body, massaging each inch of her: the silky back, the resilient buttocks, the soft but compact thighs.
Without a word we dropped to the dew-laden grass, rolling over and over in the moisture, thighs hard against thighs. The cool dampness of the ground muddied and wet our flesh; soon Carla was everywhere as slimy as she was between her legs. My hands rummaged in all her slime, searched in her box of hair and jelly. I inserted my fingertip, drew it out, ran it again and again across her clitoris. Finally, her legs drew back: the lips gaped up at me. I bent over her, putting my penis at the threshold of her sheath. She trembled and I pushed, pushed, broke into her, joined our throbbing meat together, and thumped heavily, crazily. Her legs were in the air, spinning with her passion. Then, at the moment of our climax, her buttocks flailed up and down wildly so that nothing remained but the pouring of our juices.
We remained pasted together for some time. "I congratulate you," she said at last. "Whatever for?"
"For being as accomplished a husband as you are stimulating a wife."
"I can say no less for you. In fact, I really must say more-since you are easily twice as much of a husband as I am."
"Twice as much and half as much, since part of the time I am no husband at all."
"Nor am I."
"Yes," she laughed. "We are a strange couple. I think we may look forward to many interesting evenings together. Isn't that so, my husband-wife?"
"Indeed, my wife-husband."
When we returned to the ball, we danced a good deal and talked somewhat, telling each other of our past adventures. I, who until that evening had considered myself the most degenerate of creatures, was flabbergasted to learn of Carla's exploits. She had left nothing undone.
"How remarkable you are," I told her.
"Why do you think so? Your life has been almost as full as mine; and besides you are considerably younger than I."
"No, that's not what I mean. I say you're remarkable because debauchery has left no trace upon you. Your body is full and young, unblemished. Your face-well, I needn't describe your beauty. Certainly, dozens of others have made you aware of your charms."
"You flatter me."
"I don't. Why should I? But tell me, Carla, how do you manage to keep yourself so well, to show no trace of reckless living?"
She sighed. "Well, Rex, as I've told you: only a very restricted part of my life is devoted to my loves. When I return home each night, I go to bed and sleep until noon. My daughter, Angela, is at her studies then, and though we almost never see each other in the morning-I am very careful never to be absent from home."
"She has no idea of your-your second life?
"None whatsoever."
"How incredible that seems!"
"Not at all. It has often cost a great deal to insure my secret. I've had to change servants regularly, and often to pay heavily for their silence. Not that they have ever suspected anything. But it has unavoidably happened, of course, that a maid or a butler or Angela's governess has become aware of my absence during the night. It is easy to buy their silence. They think I am a hysterically doting mother-"
"Which, in fact, you seem to be."
"Yes, that's true. You see, my conduct isn't inconsistent. I tell the servant I have been to visit a friend, but that my daughter mustn't know. She must be certain that no one is more important to me than herself. And this is true."
"Yes, but how does this devotion keep you beautiful?"
"It isn't devotion. It's simply that from the moment I rise at noon until I leave my home toward midnight, my life is peaceful, regular, ordered. I have eighteen hours of rest for every six hours of madness."
"I see."
"Most libertines, as you know, cannot keep their secrets very long. They find it difficult to restrict their loves to a certain time. Their days are interrupted a dozen times and at any hour. This is what wears then-out-not their fictions, but that there is no regulation to their lives."
"I'll remember that," I said.
"If you do," she told me, "and if you act accordingly, I think you'll find that your endurance is greater and that you'll be potent over a longer period of time than most men."
I realized then that Carla was someone who not only practiced sex, but also theorized about it. She had not, I could see, gone about her experience blindly as most do. When I asked her about this, she replied:
"Would you expect me to ignore such a vital part of my life?"
"I don't mean ignore...."
"Most of the people at this party, no matter how debauched they are, and even though they think of nothing but sex, do actually ignore it."
"How do you mean?"
"They think of it only in terms of physical accomplishment. They dream up the wildest variations. Once I knew a man who taught me to make love standing on my head!"
"Really? I've never heard of such a thing."
"Few people have. And yet there are cults all over the world who will do it no other way."
"You must teach it to me."
"I will, one day. But to get back, the man who taught me this, saw in it only another exciting and violent way of fucking. For me, it was more than that: it was another achievement, a defiance of nature. A conquest."
"Of what?"
"Of myself, if nothing else. Of my own limitations." I see.
"But for God's sake, Rex, please don't think I feel like a philosopher when I'm in the middle of love-making."
"You don't act like one."
"Thank you."
"And you certainly don't look like one."
"Now I'm really complimented."
The party ended, as those parties invariably do, in one tremendous orgy. Costumes were shredded and thrown into comers of the room. Mountains of living throbbing flesh rose from floor to ceiling as people threw themselves upon each other. Carla, back to the role of Robin Hood, drove her rubber phallus into every opening that turned her way. I was always behind her, my relentless penis riding through the wet lips into her twitching sheath, my hands crushing at the tense softness of her breasts.
Somehow, in the course of the orgy, we were separated, for a man had come at her, torn her dildo away and dragged her off to another comer of the room. I heard her agonized shrieks over the noises of the crowd, heard the sound of her flesh being beaten. When I at last managed to crawl over to her it was in time to see the man holding her hips in the air so that her body rested on her shoulders. He leaned forward between her thighs and plunged himself into her. Then he took hold of her arms, pulled her into the air, and flung her back: the floor shook as she fell. Yet her legs held tight round the man's back so that nothing could break their contact.
At that point I was interrupted in my watching, for two women and a man came rushing at me, dragging me to the ground.
It was not until much later that I saw Carla again. She came toward me, struggling with the man who had carried her away from me.
"Let me alone," she kept shouting.
"No." He pulled her.
"Find yourself someone else. I've got to leave now."
"You can't leave. The party will go on for days."
"I'll come back tomorrow then and we'll take up where we left off."
"I'll make you stay."
"You won't. Now don't be ridiculous. Let me alone. You can find yourself someone else."
She had managed at last to move over to my party. Her lover looked at me.
"I'll let you alone," he said to Carla. "If I can have him."
"Delighted," I said.
"You'll have to wait a minute," said Carla. "I must be going now, Rex."
"Can you come to my place tomorrow night."
"Yes."
I told her my address while she rummaged among some costumes. Since her own clothes were not to be found, she settled for a tiger skin which covered only one breast, leaving the other to stare at me enticingly.
But then she was gone and Carla's former lover threw me to the ground, lifting me to the position he preferred. He spread my buttocks, drove his member into my bottom, and when we were secured together, he proceeded to fling me up and down as he had Carla. I felt his penis grow, the blood in it throbbing against my flesh, and his cream burst into me. Since this satiated neither of us, we continued in exactly the same way well on into the morning. But then, my bowels being so laden with liquid, I could not prevent the spasm which flung his organ out of me, followed by several enormous creamy turds which splashed upon him and covered his genitals With a layer of brown. "Lick me clean," he roared.
And, never daunted, always obliging, I obeyed him, thus returning to my body what it had just ejected. After this, we tired of each other and I decided to follow Carla's advice. I went home to sleep and rest, to prepare for my next encounter with the beautiful woman.
She arrived at my room at midnight, bringing with her a man I had seen before, but could not place.
Carla looked round my room and said: "This is too small a place for good sex. Have you a bath?"
"No, of course not."
She turned to the man. "Buy Rex an apartment tomorrow. I'll pay you back in the evening." He nodded.
"We need room for love. And besides, we must have a bath. I'll teach you a marvelous way to make love. But first let me introduce you to my friend and business associate, Paul Lenoir."
We shook hands, and I said: "You know, I've seen you before, but I can't remember where."
"It's possible," he replied. "My job keeps me on the run."
"Paul," Carla explained, "is in the semen business."
"Really?" I couldn't help smiling.
"I too was amused at first," she said. "But when you've found how his business will affect you, you will take it more seriously."
"It just seems a trifle odd," I apologized. "In brief, what he does is buy and sell semen."
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "That's how I happened to see him."
"Really?" Lenoir asked me. "I don't remember having done business with you."
"No, you haven't. But several months ago, I was walking down the street with a friend, and you passed on the opposite side. My friend pointed you out to me, and said: 'Do you see that fellow? He's a most extraordinary creature. He was sent to me a few weeks ago by a friend. He offered me 2,000 francs for a bottle of joy-juice. Not a big bottle at that: two or three days' work at most. I said I'd be delighted to oblige but that it was quite a bit to ask a girl if she wouldn't mind giving back what I'd just bestowed upon her. He gave me a box of rubbers and said: use these, then empty them into the bottle, or if you'd prefer you can simply give me the used rubbers. Needless to say, I agreed and I've been filling bottles galore ever since.' My friend didn't tell me what you do with the stuff."
"I resell it," said Lenoir.
"And I'm one of his most regular clients," Carla informed me.
"And what do you do with it?" I asked her.
"That, you will learn tomorrow."
"As a matter-of-fact," said Lenoir, "Carla is my most demanding client. I've had to give up a number of others to keep her orders filled."
"That isn't true, Paul. Once I had the amount I needed, it was only a question of a small steady supply."
"I certainly am anxious to know," I. said, "to what uses you put the stuff."
"You'll have to wait. Now, before we get down to tonight's business, I want you to remember to have all your things packed by midnight tomorrow. I'll come found with a taxi and take you to your new quarters." She turned to Lenoir. "You'll be sure to find something really excellent for him?"
"Have I ever failed you, Carla?"
"No, you haven't-not in any way."
And so, the three of us undressed and had a party that lasted until dawn.
Needless to say, I was thrilled at the idea of leaving my little room for a spacious apartment. All my packing was done hours before Carla was due to arrive. So I spent the evening pacing back and forth across the floor waiting for the great moment.
At last she came, Lenoir and the cab-driver behind her.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"Ready? I've been packed since the afternoon."
"Good. Shall we go along then?"
We each took a valise, left the room and went down the stairs into the street. We climbed into the taxi and were on our way in a moment.
"I'm thrilled about all this," I said, hardly able to believe it was actually happening.
"Wait until you've seen the place!" said Carla.
"Have you seen it?" I asked.
"We've just come from there. And it's all yours."
"God, Carla," I said, "I can't think of any way to hank you!"
"Don't be silly. It's a pleasure for me. And besides, you simply had to have a place with a bath."
When the cab came to a stop, I was astonished to see we were just across the street from the Tuileries.
"Surely it isn't here?" I said.
"Of course it is. And what's more, it has a view upon the gardens."
We all went upstairs and Carla gave me the key.
"I think you ought to carry me across the threshold," she said.
I opened the door, picked her up in my arms and carried her into the flat.
"Furnished," I cried. I was incredulous to see that nothing was wanting in the apartment.
"Of course! Furnished. I thought it would be such a bore to have to waste time if there weren't any furniture."
We went round the apartment, Lenoir and the cab-driver still with us. I had noticed that Carla seemed interested in the driver. He was a good-looking man-but more than that, he was a potential sexual partner, and that was enough to interest Carla. As we made our way round the flat, I saw her edge close to him and whenever possible wiggle her buttocks against him. The poor man seemed half-mad with desire. When we reached the bathroom, Carla suddenly turned upon the man and said:
"We're going to have a little party here tonight." Her leg moved against his. "A very intimate party, you understand. Perhaps you'd like to stay?"
"I'd love to," he said in a hoarse whisper.
And so Carla told him everyone's name, and he in turn said he was called Louis.
"Well, then, gentlemen," Carla began, turning the knob of the bathroom door, "allow me to present the treat of the evening."
And she threw open the door. It was the most spectacular bathroom I had ever seen: larger than an ordinary sitting-room. And it was furnished not only with a tub but with a large bed and a chaise-longue.
"Come closer," she said. "Come closer. And see what's in the tub."
Louis and I approached. The tub was half-filled with a thick gleaming milky fluid. It took me several seconds' to realize what it was.
"So that's why you were so anxious for a bath," I said.
"Exactly."
"But it must be terribly cold."
"Not at all," she replied, and turned to Lenoir. "Paul, will you warm the bath?"
"Certainly." And he left the room.
While he was gone, Carla reached her hand into the tub, stroked the thick fluid, then took her dripping fingers out, patting them across my face and that of Louis, the cab-driver.
"What is it?" he asked, taken aback.
"What does it look like?"
"I-I'm not sure."
Drawing herself close to him, she said: "It's what you'll soon be pouring into me."
Louis' arms went around Carla, and their mouths sucked together in a wide passionate kiss. I watch;. I his hands fondle her back from thigh to shoulder.
When Lenoir returned he was carrying with him a curious device: two long metal rods fastened together and from whose top appeared a long wire which ultimately tapered into a plug. This plug he shoved into a socket not far from the tub, and then he plunged the twin rods into the bath of semen.
"As the rods heat up," Carla explained, "the liquid is warmed. God bless the machine age. Let's undress."
So the four of us began to disrobe one another. When we were naked, Carla once again reached into the tub.
"It's almost ready," she said. "Who will smear my body with the precious stuff?"
She had three volunteers, so it was decided that since Louis was the newcomer, he would coat Carla. But since actually it was my great evening, Carla, once coated, would cover me with the liquid.
Louis was enraptured. He approached Carla, his hands and tool outstretched. Again, their bodies met, and as they kissed he wriggled until his penis moved in between her thighs. They shimmied and rubbed and stroked and sighed. At last, Carla broke away:
"No no, you terrible man. I must first of all be covered with the most precious-and expensive-juice in the world."
Moving to the tub, Louis reached his hands into the fluid, then drew them out and began massaging Carla. He put the stuff upon her shoulders, and rubbed downwards across her chest. He coated her breasts thickly so that they were like milky blobs. Taking more fluid, he stroked her belly and hips, and with two great handfuls smeared the hair of her loins into a gluey mess. Carla was now dripping with semen. Louis' ecstatic wet hand reached between her thighs, and Carla leaned against the wall, raising herself so that we could all see the area upon which he worked. Her woman was thick with sperm, and Louis' fingers moved into her hole. Then he painted her thighs, her knees, ankles, even between her toes.
She turned round saying: "Now the second part."
Louis willingly obeyed. Soon her back dripped with the juice of a thousand orgasms. Delicately, Louis spread her buttocks and massaged the cream there and into her anus. Soon she was one mass of already-drying semen.
"Now, Rex...."
"Yes."
"It's your turn to feel the delicious moisture on every part of your body."
Her hands swooped into the bath, tupping out masses of the liquid. She was less economical and in a much greater hurry than Louis had been. The warm sticky mess came pasting upon my body in thick patches; it ran down my neck, chest and legs. With two handfuls she fondled my genitals and the sensation was so pleasant I thought I might any moment add to Carla's supply. But, in fact, she was done with me almost before she began.
"That was much too quick," I said.
"But I wanted to finish before it dried."
Her face came close to me, and with passion burning in her eyes she began licking from my body what she had just applied to it. She drank from my chest and armpits, from my navel, from my thickly-coated loins, from my legs, from my back, from between my buttocks. Her tongue flickered out hungrily, her lips sucked along each inch of my fevered body.
When I was licked clean, Carla removed the electric rods from the tub and said:
"Come, Rex. Come into the bath."
She stepped in and I followed her, sinking my body into the thick jelly of joy.
"Isn't it marvelous?" Carla shrieked, splashing both herself and me with the fluid.
Paul Lenoir and Louis knelt beside us and rubbed us with our bath-water. I stretched my hands forward, through the thick mess, and sought Carla's slimy breasts. I squeezed them, tugging her large nipples. She in turn took hold of my penis, pulling at it in the velvet softness of the semen. Now and then a rubber contraceptive floated to the surface, and Carla grabbed at it and slid it across her face.
"Think of all the love we're lying in," she cried with mad delight in her face.
When one of the rubbers surfaced, she took hold of it, and told Louis to stand up. When he obeyed, she opened the rubber and drew it on to his member, rubbing her sperm-laden hands across his scrotum. Then Louis pushed his organ toward Carla's face; her mouth opened and the dripping rubber-covered penis burst into her mouth. She sucked at it hungrily.
While she did this, I moved forward, lying down between Carla's legs. I threw her knees back and felt her jellied twat under the liquid. I moved on top of her, edged my rod to her burning hole and lunged forward, carrying with me a dozen orgasms. Just as we joined together, Lenoir leaped into the tub, jumped on top of me and plunged his heated mass into my twitching anus. To complete the party, Louis too came into the bath, never removing his instrument from Carla's devoted mouth. The four of us jumped and shook and twitched. Lenoir pounded in and out of me, and I pounded in and out of Carla. At last we all came to our climax, and our fresh juices mixed with the juices in the tub.
Carla stretched languidly.
"Isn't life wonderful?" she said.
Yes, life was wonderful, but the tub had begun to grow chilly, so we all jumped out and thrust the electric rods back in to heat the stuff.
We bundled up close together in a kind of weird dance, shivering across each other's jellied body. Carla was delighted to lick us all clean, and she tore the rubber off Louis' penis, pushed it into her mouth and sucked it until it emerged spotless. This so enflamed Louis that he dropped himself to the floor between Carla's legs and drank passionately at her cunt. After a moment she moved away, arranging herself above Louis' member. Gracefully, she descended upon it, fixing its length in herself. As they sat thus, Lenoir and I began scooping up semen and showering it upon the lovers. (In fact Lenoir threw such an excessive amount that I could not help suspecting he had one eye on his business.)
As Carla leaned forward over Louis, her breasts swayed out and I filled the valley between with joy-juice. Then I filled my own behind with the jelly and planted my bottom square into Louis' face, bending forward so that my own mouth covered Carla's moist teat. To my delight, I felt Louis' tongue licking at the substance I'd placed at his disposal. Lenoir too joined us by plunging his anointed instrument into Carla's mouth. We all bounced savagely, and to insure my orgasm, I removed my behind from Louis' mouth and substituted my penis. Thus, the four of us once again poured away our juices.
Afterwards, the bath had warmed, and we climbed back into the restful jelly, playing with gentle exhaustion.
"Wouldn't it be marvelous," said Carla, "if we could identify every drop of this semen?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, suppose I pointed to that drop on your nose and said: oh, that's from the time that Joseph fucked Lucy in her father's garage. It would be so nice to know each instance of every drop."
"Your curiosity is insatiable," said Lenoir. "How much can you expect me to ask of my laborers?"
Carla laughed. "Oh, I don't expect you to ask! I just think it would be marvelous to know. Here hundreds of people have come thousands of times and we sit in it all and don't know under what circumstances it was made."
"Well," Louis told her, "you can be sure that from now on I'll save every trickle for you and tell you exactly how it happened."
"I'd like that," Carla said, rubbing his back with the unidentified fluid.
"I know where you can collect a lot of it-and get it for nothing," Louis said to Carla.
Lenoir was obviously displeased. "I'm sure that I've left no stone unturned in my quest for the vital liquid."
"I'll bet this is a place you never went to," Louis challenged. "Because few people even know about it."
"Where is it?" Carla asked.
"It's an old soldiers organization. They have a monthly meeting, and after the meeting there's a party in the back. A couple of men and women come out and fuck in the middle of the room and the old guys sit around watching and whacking off."
"Are there a lot of them?" Carla asked.
"About a hundred. And they go at it three or four times during the performance."
"How can we collect it though?" said Carla.
"Leave that to me. If you're willing to give a performance, I'll take care of the rest."
"I'd be delighted," she said.
"There's going to be a meeting a week from today. The show starts about one o'clock, so I'll pick you up here, say, about half-past-twelve."
"That's fine."
Having settled the business, we returned to pleasure, and continued with it until it was time for Carla to leave. When they'd gone I settled down to the problem of unpacking.
Carla visited me every night during the week that followed and she invariably brought two or three people with her. She was, I must confess, the least discriminating of individuals. As far as love was concerned, Carla was truly blind. She would bring fat prostitutes and old vagabonds, anyone in fact she chanced upon. And curiously enough, each person flowered under her touch.
Thrust into a steaming bath of semen, a pimply boy could become the most violent of lovers.
Thus, the week of waking passed. And, as he had promised, Louis appeared at my door at half-past-midnight.
"We've got to hurry," he said.
"We're ready," Carla told him, and she and I followed him out and into his cab. Carla sat with him in the front seat and sucked him all the way to the meeting-place.
We parked in an alley back of a large building, climbed a very dark staircase, entered a small nondescript room which ultimately led into a tremendous hall where scores of chairs were arranged in a large circle round a small space.
"They'll be here in a minute," said Louis. It was only then I noticed he had a large box in his hand. "What's that?" I asked him.
"It's to collect the joy-juice Wait, I think I hear them."
A large door in the back of the room burst open and the veterans entered in a rush. They were all sizes, shapes and ages, and I could hear their heavy anxious breathing. In a group, they walked to a comer of the room and there proceeded to remove their clothing, each putting his things into a little locker-like box which had apparently been constructed for these occasions.
When they were nude, they came forward and took their seats. Louis raised his arms, bringing the men to silence.
"Tonight, gentlemen," Louis began, "I've brought for your pleasure a woman who is not only the most beautiful flesh many of us have had the pleasure to gaze upon, but is also the most spectacular."
The audience leaned forward.
"I take pride," continued Louis, "in presenting Carla, the insatiable."
The men applauded appreciatively, and then Louis said it was time to undress. This was done at length and with infinite slowness. When the three of us were naked, Louis once more began to speak.
"Now, tonight, gentlemen, you are in for a very special treat. Carla is a passionate collector of that juice which is such a delight for men to produce. In this box which I've brought along with me are hundreds of rubbers. Carla herself will place them on your throbbing organs. I have enough caps to go around for ;ach of you six times. Now, this is the special treat of the evening: to any or all of you men capable of two orgasms, Carla will let you deposit a third, a fourth, and even a fifth and sixth-into the beautiful hot meat which I shall now reveal to you."
Louis lifted Carla up in the air, her back to his chest. I, in turn, stepped forward, stooping, spreading Carla's thighs wide to the audience. We circled the room, and the men sighed with appreciation.
"Now, gentlemen," said Louis. "If you will permit, she will cover your thundering erections with the caps."
Louis tore the box open and we passed round the room while Carla stopped before each of the hundred men, moistened their penises with her mouth, and rolled the rubbers over them. No man could resist fingering the flesh that had so recently been displayed to him.
When all the rods in the room, save mine and Louis', had been covered, we three performers returned to the center of the floor and began the rites of love. Carla was superb that evening. Every inch of her body trembled with excitement. Passion radiated from her, and I myself became so crazed with desire that I felt I could easily add a half-dozen to her collection. Louis and I labored over her, and the three of us rolled on the floor, came close to the men in the first row whose hands reached out. My mouth sealed upon one of Carla's teats; Louis' mouth sealed upon the other. My hand rode down her body, exploring it anew, finding her flesh for the first time under two hundred watching eyes. My fingers dug downward, clawing into her wet pink woman; and another hundred hands reached with mine.
The three of us turned on our side; I was in front of Carla and Louis was in back. Simultaneously, we began the penetration of her body. Her left leg was raised high in the air so that all those watching could observe the head of my aching penis slide into the widening sheath; and just back of this, another penis was entering into her. We lunged, driving ourselves in to the hilt. The room was alive with passionate sighs. Again and again I plunged myself in and out of her, and Louis followed suit. Her leg remained fixed in space so that our contact was freely revealed. All the men stood up and moved forward, closing the circle round us so that the hot breath of their excitement poured down. In this heated fevered mass, we flung ourselves at Carla, and in a moment there was nothing but the sighs of more than a hundred orgasms.
The men returned to their seats and Carla stood up and went round the room collecting the used rubbers, knotting them and depositing them in a comer. In this way, each man had the supreme delight of being licked clean by Carla's ever-hungry tongue. Afterwards, she went round placing fresh rubbers on all of them.
A second performance ensued with variations on the first, and ultimately another hundred caps were filled.
"And now, gentlemen," Louis said. "The rest of the evening is yours. Each of you may use Carla as you see fit."
It was now time for Louis and myself to retire to the audience's position, and what ensued was a free-for-all such as I have never, before or since, seen. The more assailed Carla was, the mote responsive she became. The more orgasms she was driven to, the more she desired. Penises covered and filled every part of her flesh. She was bitten and flailed, scratched and torn, and she merely screamed for more.
But Louis and I, I must confess, were not long watching. There were a couple of dozen men who thought it an excellent idea to keep their irons, as it were, in our fires-until Carla's furnace was ready to receive them. Needless to say, I found this highly enjoyable and there were quite a number of men who were anxious to put their fires at the disposal of my iron.
In all, it was an extravagant evening. Carla left at dawn, and Louis and I soon followed with several hundred rubber-wrapped orgasms. He drove me home in his taxi and helped bring the semen up to the flat where, as exhausted as we were, we managed to coax each other into increasing Carla's supply ever-so-slightly.
But, strangely enough, Carla never returned to my flat. Nor did Louis. And the only time I ever saw her again was a month later when it occurred to me she might return to the veterans' meeting. Truly, she was there with Louis and several other men; the soldiers had not yet come in.
"Carla," I called.
"Oh, Rex, my darling."
"What's happened?"
"Nothing's happened!"
She seemed so casual I couldn't think what to say to her.
"Why should you think any thing's happened?" she asked.
"It's a month since I've seen you."
"I know."
"Well, why haven't you come to the flat?"
"Frankly, Rex, ever since that first night here at this place, I've realized that one, two, three, or even ten men just aren't enough for me. I need a mob-like this."
"But this is only once a month."
"This is. But Louis knows of parties like this all over Paris-night after night." I see.
I stayed around for the party that night and promised Carla I would come to the others whose addresses she gave me. But I never did go. The truth is, I'd grown fond of her and wanted her for myself-at least now and then. Since this was impossible, I thought it wiser to break the attachment immediately.
The next day I had a woman sent in to clean my bathtub. It had become a dry cruddy mess during its unused month and the woman grumbled and complained she had never seen a bath in such a frightful state. She didn't seem to know what the rubbers were
"What are all these things?" she asked. "Dried-up balloons?"
"Are you married?"
"Yes. And with ten kids."
"Ah, that explains it."
She shrugged and finished cleaning. When she left I gave her the twin electric rods as a present, telling her they heated water in no time....
"And so, Mr. Cunningham, Carla's last trace disappeared from my apartment-and my life."
"She came a long way from the time I knew her," I told Baxter.
"But you weren't shocked by my story."
"Good heavens, no."
"Then I can only say that what you've heard from others about Carla must have prepared you well-enough for this."
"Yes, indeed. Well, Mr. Baxter, I won't trouble you anymore."
"It's been no trouble at all. In fact I've enjoyed every minute of it." We stood up and he showed me out of the salon.
"Just one thing more," I said.
"Anything."
"Might I see your bath?"
Baxter burst into laughter. "But of course," he said. And led me into the room.