Chapter 1
Noon. A blanket of fog covers the city, and the heat, heavy with humidity, weighs on the people scurrying about between the high gray walls of the buildings.
Here in a few words is the description of that person who shall serve as the principal hero of our book. First, a wide-brimmed hat from under which peeks long wavy hair, framing a young face divided by a thin blonde mustache. He is wearing a suit of blue-gray cloth, cut in the latest style. His walk gives him an air of elegance and reveals the suppleness of an effeminate body. However, let us not anticipate any further.
His name? Richard, if you please. Right now he is walking down McDougal street and at the steps leading up Bleeker he practically stops. Just before his eyes are two calves, tightly gloved in sheer flesh colored stockings. His attention is glued on the slim ankles, the perfectly shaped curves of the legs which by virtue of the fact of climbing the steps are uncovered to his gaze to far above the knees. Richard's eyes wander higher up to the nape of the neck. He saw her hair was a natural russet color. Not dyed. This fact is such a rarity these days that Richard fired by curiosity quickened his pace in order to see whether her face matches with what he has already seen. Just as he comes up to her a most unwanted dog-and God knows the number of cats and dogs that are to be found in this neck of the woods-dashes in between the good lady's legs, and she loses her balance and falls to the ground, or rather would have, had not Richard been there to catch her in his arms.
"Oh! please excuse me sir. I'm so sorry, but thank you for having been where you were . .
"Really, it was nothing madam. There is nothing to thank me for."
The woman detaches herself from Richard's arms, and then suddenly lets out a sharp cry of pain.
"Have you hurt yourself, madam?"
"I don't know, at least I don't think so; but possibly I have twisted my ankle."
She tries to walk but each step, executed with some difficulty, brings to her lips a moan of pain.
"Listen, my studio is just a few steps away. There, right opposite, at the corner. Permit me to help you there. After a few minutes of rest you'll be as fit as a fiddle."
"You're really too land, but I am afraid to take advantage of your generosity.. .
"Here, put your weight on my arm. Yes, like that...there, you see, here we are..."
Richard takes a key ring from his pocket, and with the one hand picks the right key and fits it into the keyhole, while supporting the woman with the other.
"There you are, come in. Easy now. Sit down on this couch-there-now rest a minute."
"I really don't know how to thank you enough."
"Consider this your house, madam. Would you like to read a bit?"
The woman chooses an illustrated magazine which is within reach, but her arms remain outstretched with the magazine already in her hand.
"You really have some very beautiful things .here. Is it you who has made all of the things here?"
"Yes, dear lady, but I must admit that at the present all these beautiful things, as you are so kind to judge them, have been eclipsed and are now empty of pleasure and personal gratification."
"How so?"
"How so? Oh! Solely by your presence in our midst."
"Oh! really flatteries already. I will be leaving, especially since I no longer feel anything of the pain caused by my minor misfortune. I beg of you, sir-Oh! oww . .
"As you see, you are still in pain. Stay a while, and do not misconstrue for flattery or compliments the simple expression of an artist's feelings. Would you like to drink something? Wait just a second, don't move."
A few moments later, Richard is seated on the coffee table with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"Now here's something which will make you more patient," he says as he uncorks the bottle.
"It truly does hurt! It's so silly, and to think that I'm expected at only two steps from here. Oh! thank you. That's really too much; you've filled a large glass. I'll never be able to drink all that."
"Posh, it's a very light wine, and won't indispose you at all, quite on the contrary."
"Well, here's to you, but I really feel that I'm taking advantage..."
She drinks slowly, one little sip after another, and in effect the wine seems to calm the young woman. The conversation, at first halting, now becomes animated and warm, and the two hosts of the studio lose track of the passing time. Richard describes in detail each object, each painting, every curio, but the woman's attention is caught by an object placed high on a shelf on the edge of the upper bedroom and which in fact was something worthy of this lady's gaze. Having noticed all this, Richard would have liked to go up and fetch the object in order to remove it from view, but he was kept from doing so by the woman.
"Please don't, I am perfectly aware that in an artist's studio one must expect to find all kinds of things, but you must admit that its size is a bit exaggerated! After all! Oh, and that, at the back, which I didn't see, what does it represent? One would say that it was a woman with an animal."
Richard went to get the group in plaster which intrigued the woman and handed it to her.
"This is an exact reproduction of a group in marble found in the ruins of Mossul. The...the thing aside, notice the beauty and the accurate observance of each movement. The movement of the woman with her arms circling the ass's strong neck and the latter's body bent like a bow in order to facilitate the insertion of his member. Isn't it a beautiful ensemble?"
"Yes certainly...but after all, I cannot help but doubt that an ass of that size could have worked' himself that deep into the body of the woman. I wouldn't say that a smaller ass...but one of that size...after all do you realize to what depth...his instrument is imbedded!"
"You are certainly not ignorant of the fact that Messaline experienced her greatest pleasure with asses, and with the help of habit, having begun with care, with secret terror perhaps, with a very young ass; who knows what limits she broke in being serviced by animals still more powerful, and still larger."
"Well, perhaps...As for me, it is something which I have as yet not tried. For to begin with, it frightens me a bit, and then one must find an ass, and again a place, for one cannot do that sort of thing in front of any Tom, Dick, or Harry!"
"Oh! I think that given a certain desire, it is less impossible to do than it would seem . .
"What! Do you mean that you would do it if you were a woman?"
"By Heaven, I feel that all is permitted for those who search for the highest forms of pleasure corresponding to the state of our senses and to our temperament. Only those who are lacking' can restrict themselves to certain forms because they are incapable of tasting divine pleasure, no matter what the form chosen."
"Well in that case, when and if you should have a young animal at your disposal let me know!"
"It's a deal. Would you like that I massage your foot, I just happen to have some camphor and rubbing alcohol. Don't move! I'll be your servant and nurse, only you must take off your stocking."
"Decidedly, I am obeying your every command, and to think that I'm awaited at this very moment As a matter-of-fact what time is it now, since I was to have coffee with friends at twelve-thirty."
"It's two o'clock. Here, look for yourself."
"What! Two o'clock! What will they think?"
"That you have twisted your ankle and that you had to return home by car."
"You have a way of arranging things to suit you.
"Bah! At this hour you can no longer think of finding your friends, and don't forget how pleasantly these past two hours were spent...Come now, I'll give you a massage. You can make yourself at home you know. An artist is not profane in his attitudes, so do anything you desire in order to make yourself comfortable."
"It is a fact that it is terribly hot here. I do think that we will have some thunder-storms. Only would you stay in the room next door for a moment, and don't come back till I call you."
So Richard waits in the little room connecting to the studio, where he hears a low groan. He opens the door separating the room from the studio, in order to investigate the cause of the groan.
"Oh! I told you that you shouldn't come back till I told you that you could. I just ripped the hook of my suspender belt and now I'm in a fine mess."
"Don't get upset, I have a kind of robe that you can put on, and some thread and all the necessaries for sewing the garment back to health."
As he was talking, Richard had already produced the robe which buttoned in the rear, and presented it to her.
"Thank you. Would you turn around for a minute..."
A few minutes passed, and Richard passed the time looking at a book. "Would you help me button your robe."
"But of course."
Here we have Richard beginning to button the robe, but because of lack of habit, or perhaps some all together different reason, the job proves a very difficult one. The two bodies are almost touching. Richard cannot help but admire a beautiful bosom which is free of any blemish, and of a whiteness of skin usually given to red-heads but minus the freckles that are often the bane of the red-head.
"What a pretty neck you have. It's a pity that I should not have a model such as you."
"Come now, hurry it up a little."
"Allow me to admire you a little, in the manner of an artist only-your bosom has a remarkable lift to it."
"Do you really think so? Is that good or is it bad?"
"Let me have a better look. Oh, don't be afraid. Oh! how firm your breasts are, and the nipples, so pink and small-pull back the robe a little..."
"My hips are a little low and my thighs are a little too heavy . .
"Heavy? Not at all. Take off the robe entirely, i But no, you mustn't be afraid, and you will certainly feel more comfortable. What lines-but you possess a truly Grecian type beauty, my little lady-and the softness of your skin..
"Now that's enough...you're tickling me, stop, come now be good and behave. If somebody should see us. Now stop it...take your hand away...ah . .
Mouth glued to mouth, their tongues seek each other out. Richard presses her body against his own, while his hand sneaks down between her thighs, and between the curly bush, a finger enters the cave which soon becomes moist. The pressure of the two bodies increases and so does the sucking of the tongues.
Now, Richard feels love's cave literally melt about his finger and so he removes his hand and begins to undo his fly with trembling fingers. Then taking out his tool in a condition which you may well guess at, he goes about dutifully the business of introducing it into the soaking slit of the pretty little lady who he throws back on the couch at the same time.
Gasping, the latter makes no move in defense, already made before the fact and waiting for the final blow of the conquering male.
"Aaah...aaaah...oh...eas...easy...oh, yes...go...aah...aah . '.
Tis done, the tool in the best of form, inserted to the private parts, determined in its duty: long sighs escape from the lips of the patient.
Soon a long cry of love and voluptuousness announces the supreme moment of pleasure. The beautiful arms twist and become rigid.
"Ah! ah...aaah...aah...ah...aaaaah.. . "
A moment of silence insues, disturbed only by the ticking of the old country alarm clock. Richard pulls out his gooky member, but on seeing it the little lady grabs it. Richard lets her have way. The woman regards the tool which has just fulfilled her and her eyes express all the admiration that it excites in her. His cock still being stiff it is possible to determine its admirable structure. Its head appears still more pink beneath the dew which covers it and the total length of it seems to be a good seven or eight inches long-at the very least. One must admit that we are here dealing with a goodly instrument, especially if one considers that its breadth is in perfect proportion with its length.
The little lady draws near to this beautiful tool and kisses it slowly...slowly. Her tongue tickles the opening of the rosy head. Richard, under influence of these pleasing sensations, sits himself down on top of the woman and makes himself comfortable. He removes his pants which he had retained till then, and places his knees on either side of the sucker's chest, and as soon as he does so she places a hand under the large balls, still sufficiently swelled, and with the other puts pressure on his male ass.. . :
At the moment she is sucking with avidity, breathing in and in. Imperceptibly, Richard intrudes his instrument deeper and deeper into her mouth till it is jammed in her throat. For a long time he is able to hold back the moment of climax, but under the tender workings of this ardent mouth he is not able to continue to do so for long. In vain he tries to free himself, but the lady's two hands prevent him with a violence. He lets out a long cry of pleasure and done in he collapses onto the cushions, while the mouth continues to suck in the divine liqueur, and a long time after, she still sucks, she sucks always, without end-sucks...