Chapter 5
The afternoon was drawing to a close slowly. This September day had been hot and humid. Richard was smoking a cigar, stretched out languidly on the couch, and was lost in reverie among the clouds of bluish smoke.
In this particular section of the city no sound could be heard and as such was the very spot for daydreaming.
Richard while gazing at the smoke rings of his own making recalls the happenings of a few weeks back.
It was at a dinner party given at a friend's house near Central Park. A young girl (could one really have said young girl?) had literally brought him to a dead stop. Never before had he seen such a beautiful face, so regular, and shoulders and arms of a wonderful fineness. Not to speak of her legs.
Then she had sung and on finishing she came to sit down next to a woman who happened to be sitting next to him. On looking at them sitting together he recognized them to be mother and daughter.
Had it not been for the daughter, Richard would have certainly concentrated all of his attention on the mother. Both had Venetian blonde hair which was not dyed. The mother, although a little heavier, was as splendid as her daughter. A banal remark made by the hostess permitted him to begin a conversation. The hostess had come to Richard to ask him if he would recite for them (for Richard was also a poet when the occasion called for it) and then bending over she whispered into his ear:
"You who are a painter-don't you find those two beautiful?"
"Extraordinary."
"I'll introduce you."
And so it was that he learned that Madam de O...was the wife of a bank director, who was in Hong Kong at the present time, negotiating some very important business.
Richard read two Southern poems which were much applauded, especially by the two ladies.
"Sir, you have given us a very real pleasure.
Such simplicity, and what depth of feeling one senses in what you have just read."
"Oh, madam have mercy, I have no pretensions; it's just that I write poems in the same way that I paint."
"What? You both write poetry and paint. But sir, you are truly a complete being in that case."
And then the hostesses interposed pointing to a painting hung on the wall:
"And that is by Richard."
"But wait isn't that the 'Source' which was exhibited at the Museum of Modern Art this year and are you really the painter?"
"Oh, it's one of those paintings which I no longer like. It had too many imperfections, and had I known, I never would have allowed it to be put on exhibition."
"How can you say such a thing. It is being reproduced everywhere and I assure you that the public finds that it is marvelous. And too it seems to resemble a woman."
"No, dear lady, especially after tonight, now that I have seen you both I am made aware to what extent my poor little painting is removed from the reality."
"Oh, sir, you wouldn't be a flatterer by chance?"
"May God forgive me if I am. I simply voice that which I feel and that which I believe to be. true and just"
They had met several times afterwards at various literary gatherings that they had been both invited to. Finally on the last occasion he had invited them both to come and pay him a visit at his studio.
The last time that they had been together at a party he had surprised them in the corner of a room, and to his astonishment the mother was kissing her daughter exhaustively on the lips. However, Richard said nothing, for after all there was nothing that unusual in it.
He remembered especially their wild hair which for him had indelibly fixed in his memory two women.
The first was a boarder in the most important house of call. The second was the daughter of a general, considered the most beautiful woman in New York. Of her he enjoyed most the memory of those times when they would go to the opera or to some worldly gatherings; she dressed like a princess in a dress of blue or black, extremely d‚collet‚, free of jewels with the occasional exception of two gold earrings. Her appearance always caused a sensation.
She had been his mistress some three and a half years and yet in all that time he had hardly twenty intimate relations with her. He had no thoughts of complaining at this situation; he loved her for her beauty, and both were rather brother and sister to each other, and then he knew that the duchess shared his affections with others with whom she was certainly more assiduous in her passion. And so he kept his peace.
However he kept these two women in a special place of his memory. Never had he enjoyed fucking anyone as much as these two women, and God only knew he had certainly fucked women from all levels of society and from many different worlds. No, never had he experienced such perfect pleasure as when he had plunged his tool into the cunts of these two vestal virgins of love, rare as those were. For contrary to what is usually maintained, there are few, very few women who know how to fuck simply and at the same time afford a maximum of pleasure to the male who is sticking them.
And these two women with their blonde hair had reminded him of Madam de O...and her young daughter.
He was torn from his daydreaming by several knocks on the door of his studio. Should he open the door? It was so good to just he there and dream. For a second time the knocks resounded on the door. Who could it be? So many people called at his studio. All the same to clear his conscience he got up and pulled back the bolt, for he had taken the habit of always closing the bolt even when people came for a visit, he drew the bolt behind them.
Finally he opened the door.
"I hope we're not disturbing you Richard? Lord, it's quite a climb to your place. But will you look at this, one has the impression of being in the country. Those tall trees in front of the studio. Come in my little darling. How nice it is here and look at those beautiful things and those' women."
"You must excuse me ladies for receiving you dressed as I am."
"Oh, not at all Richard. You're perfectly correct that way and what's more you're comfortable. But how lovely your place is. Of course, I shan't ask if the place is presided over or kept by a woman."
"Well then, I'll have to point out your error; I alone preside here."
"Really, why you're a treasure. And in addition you like flowers; I notice that you have some in almost every corner."
"They were most certainly expecting your visit."
"Come now, don't start on compliments so early in the day; we really don't like them, neither you, nor I. God, it's hot; don't you think so darling?"
"Yes, especially when one has to walk the streets bare of shade, and under a sun like today's."
"Don't complain of the sun, young miss, for I am sure that it plays in your hair as it does in your mother's and is therefore a friend."
"Ah, poet, you poet. But really, you have such nice things and they are arranged with such good taste. May I look around? And even without your permission I will, for after all you did invite us. Look, darling, this reclining woman, is she not beautiful, natural, and these landscapes, really very good. And are you a musician as well? You play the violin and mandolin-just a little? Well, decidedly you are a wonder."
The reader has certainly guessed that the two women in question were Madam de O...and her daughter.
"And what is there up there? Another room? Ah, and there's another room next to this one. Really very nice, very nice. And what lovely colonial furniture."
For a time Madam de O...and her daughter examine in detail every painting and object of interest in the studio. Richard keeps silent giving his attention to them. Finally Madam de O...breaks the silence as she places her hand on the banister of the stairs going up to the loggia and says without waiting for an answer:
"With your permission, Richard, I'll go up and take a look about."
"Oh, Madam, nothing is in its place."
"All the better, I like disorder."
Richard is suddenly overtaken by a feeling of embarrassment; for he has transformed the upstairs into a veritable museum of things secret and damned. There are things there which were not meant to be seen by all comers. He therefore hurries up behind Madam de O...in order to soften the disastrous effect which he awaits.
The first thing which falls under Madam de O...'s gaze is a huge plaster cock, standing erect at the head of the bed.
"Oh, after all, that's slightly exaggerated, a thing like that. It must belong to a horse."
And the good lady burst out with a hilarious laugh, which resounds through the entire studio.
"What is the matter mother?"
"Oh, Madam, I am most embarrassed."
"Come" now, Richard, I know perfectly well what it is."
"But Miss."
"Believe me, she hasn't been raised in cotton. Isn't that right, darling?"
Miss de O...had climbed up the stairs to the loggia and she too, on entering, has burst out laughing at the sight of the object already mentioned.
"Oh, no, Richard, you really exaggerate just a little. And then look at that and at this. But you must have difficulty sleeping surrounded by all these things, for, of course, you do sleep here, I presume."
And so the two women stayed to look at all the etchings, suggestive bric-a-brac, and the photographs of women in poses that the stupid call obscene, when they are nothing but the most natural.
At first Richard feels a little ill at ease; but then being a fatalist and having seen too much to be surprised by anything for any length of time, he begins to explain and to comment on all the photographs, etchings, every object. On a shelf, Madam de O...sees a large album and reaches for it. Richard on seeing this springs forward and attempts to take it from her.
"No, not that, Madam."
"And why not? Is it that of your loves? My God, you are funny. But it's very interesting. Come look, my little darling. Oh, look at these poses, these poses."
A little taken aback, wondering if he was awake or dreaming, Richard looked from one to the other, while they both devoured the photographs in the album. Pressed against each other, the mother kissed her daughter from time to time, as she commented on some pose.
"Look, honey. This one, what a wonderful group that is."
"And this one, oh, they're so beautiful those women. It's almost as if we were there."
To say the least, Richard was becoming more and more mystified by these two women, if they had been strangers to each other, but a mother and her daughter?
JBut as we have seen, Richard is a fatalist, and immediately accepts that which he sees, without any astonishment, nor any attempt to understand further than the immediate.
"Lord, it's hot in your museum. Do you mind if I make myself comfortable?"
Richard goes to her in the case that she should need some help.
"No, thank you. All I'm wearing is this dress. Out, there. I'll hang it on this strange coat hanger. Ah, that feels better."
Richard is now able to admire Madam de O...in her full glory, for underneath her dress she wore but a sheer slip which served to highlight her skin, and a garter belt and that's all.
"You don't mind, do you? I simply hate all those things women seem to like to encase themselves with. You did say when we came in that we should make ourselves at home. But perhaps I've taken advantage?"
"God, but you're beautiful, Madam."
"You're just a terrible flatterer. I'm too fat, and I must admit that it disturbs me a bit."
"Fat! Come now, you are a superb woman and that without exaggeration. And then it's better to be fat than flat."
"It's true, isn't it, Richard, that she's beautiful, my darling mother. And all of her is so firm, touch her, go ahead-feel her."
"Now behave yourself, darling."
"Please mother, I want that you be admired.
Feel. Don't you think that those breasts are firm. Feel."
As she was speaking, Miss de O had slipped down the straps of the slip, and two perfectly shaped breasts had appeared from under the sheer material of the slip. They were full and round, and Miss de O took his hand and placed it on their skin.
Madam de O juts out her chest. Richard prolongs his caress of those lovely contours, and as he meets with no resistance continues down to the hips and then the shoulders.
"Oh, you're making me shiver, Richard. How soft your hands are."
Suddenly she grabs her daughter's dress, and in a wink she takes it off from her, and despite a moment of resistance, in a second it is hanging from the same coat hanger as her own.
"Oh, mother, mother."
"And my daughter, don't you find her beautiful. Look here, you who are an artist, look here. But let him look you little idiot...now look here."
Once the dress was removed, Madam de O had undone her daughter's garter belt, and holding her arms, slipped off her slip, for Miss de O was dressed as was her mother.
"Now look at this darling child. Do you not find her beautiful. To think that she is the fruit of my labor, look at how firm she is, and she but seventeen."
Richard could find nothing to say. He had sat himself down on the edge of the large bed, and now just looked in ecstasy at this marvelous body, this lacquered flesh against which the nipples of her breasts look like two red strawberries, and below her belly, between her thighs, a lovely tuft of blonde down.
For a long moment he cannot find any words to express his wonderment. The two women keep the silence, realizing that it is due to the admiration of his artist's eye. Finally, Richard breaks the silence.
"I never dreamed that I should ever see such perfection in one body. I'm confounded, I feel...I feel completely beside myself. I don't know how to express myself...Those breasts, that body, those arms...those legs and...and that face illuminated by those beautiful eyes."
"And you, mama, take off your garter belt, for all that's left, you can take it off. There, I'll help you."
"Now, daughter. Well here I am without anything."
"Well, don't you find her as beautiful, my little love of a mama. Isn't she wonderful?"
Richard doesn't know where to turn, the daughter has the beauty of a virgin and the mother the beauty of a Venus in love.
Sitting down on either side of Richard, they continue the conversation which enlarges on the subject on the physical make-up of women, and no setting could have been more appropriate than this museum, now inhabited by these two splendid women. From the study of the woman the controversy led to that of the man.
"Of course," Madam de O was saying, "for many, the image of man is one of power; represented by a mountain of large muscles, and huge appendages."
"Then, rather than the play of the muscles as an expression of the spirit, one arrives at the result that in reality what appears is the picture of the brute."
"I agree with you wholeheartedly. As for me, I admire the man whose body and appendages form a graceful whole. I do not speak of the face, for a man who is really a man, capable of being called a genius by his fellow man, whether it be in the arts, philosophy, or sciences, cannot have an effeminate face. History is filled with examples which prove this, from earliest times to the present. An effeminate face is always such at the expense of the intelligence and personality; a man with an effeminate face is incapable of evolving far nor profoundly."
"But Madam de O did you know that you were erudite. Really, when one is with you not only can one find infinite pleasure in looking at you but in listening to you, as well. Which proves that that which is true of the man is also true of woman."
"Flatterer, and how's that?"
"Why, you combine a beautiful body, with a beautiful face, and with a wonderful intelligence."
During this conversation, Miss de O smiled with amusement at the turn it had taken. And then she interrupted, and said:
"But, as for you Richard..."
She stopped, blushing, not daring to continue.
Madam de O took up where she had left off:
"My little darling is right. You have the hands of a woman; it's the first thing that I pointed out to my daughter. Do you remember Liz, at Madam R's party, I told her. 'Richard, is a real artist, look and see how fine his hands are.' And you know how extremely rare real artists are. There are those which have a certain ability which has been developed by a teacher or in school, but who never become anything more than good craftsmen. I'm simply certain that you don't have one bulging muscle. Come on, take off all of that, you must be as hot as we are. I'm sure that hadn't we come along, you too would have made yourself comfortable."
"I must admit, dear Lady, that on days like this one, I usually do lock myself in without wearing a stitch of clothes."
"Well then. Take off all that. Come here Liz, and help me."
Before he could make a move to defend himself his shirt had been unbuttoned, his pants undone and pulled down onto the rug. By an act of modesty, Richard had hidden his tool between his thighs, for it had long since begun to grow hard. The body which is now uncovered is really that of a woman.
This time, it's the two women who stare at him, with his long hair, mussed up when the shirt was removed. If it hadn't been for his slight mustache the illusion would have been perfect, the illusion of a woman with not much of a breast.
They now began to caress his soft and tender skin which seemed to be completely lacking in virility. Then one of the hands touched his hip and tickled him, and moving involuntarily, suddenly out popped his cock, so stiff that it touched his belly button.
"Oh, oh, oooh."
"Ah, ah, aaah."
On hearing these two exclamations, Richard tried to put his bellicose member back into hiding, but he wasn't fast enough.
"Ah, what a piece. Leave it, leave it, Richard, how soft it is. Oh, what have you got in it? It's enormous, enormous."
The mother's head met her daughter's just underneath Richard's nose, and as their lips met, they both put a hand on his dick and an arm around his waist; their legs squeezing his, and Richard quite happy let them to their desires.
Releasing her mouth, her arm, and her hand, Madam de O took her daughters face between her two hands.
"Look Richard, look at this pretty mouth. Stick out your tongue, honey. Suck that tongue, those lips, suck...suck them well.. . "
Madam de O had brought their two faces close together and now their two mouths came into violent contact without having to be told twice what to do.
Satisfied with her work Madam de O now got up and contemplated this wonderful composite of two beautiful bodies interlaced and sucking at each other's lips from a short distance. She also observed the superb lance that was touching her daughter's belly.
After a moment thus spent in looking she understood that the two interlaced bodies whose embrace became more brusque and insistent were, being overtaken by passionate desires. Despite the fact that their arms and legs were twined so tight that they were printing purple marks on each other's flesh she succeeded in slipping a hand between her daughter's thighs. The humidity with which she met proved her to be right, and then one finger placed on her clitoris felt it grow erect and hard.
"My poor little darling, you want to...you want to come...you're wetting yourself."
Her knowing finger had begun to caress her clitoris and the surrounding area. Her daughter twisted about, rolling her buttocks, and what buttocks. An ass to make the dead come back to life, and to give an erection to the most caved-in arch.
"Poor darling, come...wait..
As if she had guessed Madam de O's intentions, she now straddled Pochard, causing him to fall backward onto the bed with her on top of him. Then Madam de O grabbed the stiff club and ran its head for just a second between the lips of her daughter's cunt. Oh, but not for long, for in one sudden lunge the tool disappeared into her love grotto. Given the position in which they found themselves, Madam de O could see nothing more with the exception of the balls knocking up against love's door. In order to get a better view she got down on her knees and so never left her eyes from this area of activity. With her long fingers she caressed the brown skin of his large nuts and the brown streak of her daughter.
Not a word past the lips of the two in labor, but long drawn out sighs bore witness to the joy that they evinced. The girl pulled back and then bore down again with the full force of her buttocks as if she desired to swallow his nuts into her hole. The sighs began to become increasingly hoarse. Liz gave a violent bump of buttocks, and then another, and then another; a sharp cry, prolonged into a third...her buttocks and thighs began to tremble with convulsive activity. On his nuts ran down a light nectar, then thicker and in greater abundance, and then her limbs came to rest.
Liz now let the now slightly visible cock slip out of her cunt.
Madam de O then managed to get her head between the moist thighs and began to lick up the nectar from the edges of her daughter's cunt. Unable to restrain herself any longer she began to work her own cunt with both her hands. At that moment the cock slipped out of the too slippery hole and somehow was immediately snapped up into Madam de O's greedy mouth.
Suddenly overtaken by a frenzy of desire, Madam de O stops in her double labor and throws herself on the two bodies covering them with kisses; Liz understanding what it was that her mother desired let go of Richard's lips rolled off him to one side: this was in effect what her mother desired.
Then Madam de O like a wild woman jumped astride Richard still stretched out on his back, and with her hand down below her belly she grabbed hold of the re-hardened cock and directed it toward her flaming cunt. With a single flick of her thighs she thrust it into the depths of her belly, circling Richard's thighs in a vise-like grip, her mouth pressed hard against his lips.
Crazy with desire she stepped up her rhythm on the tool entrenched in her hole of love...her whole body twisted and turned...Richard could not budge an inch since he was so tightly held!
The minutes ticked by and Madam de O let out a harsh groan and then another. The sweat dripped from every pore of her skin...but untiringly she continued.
"Oh, oh, oh,...OH, OH, AH!..." was all that could be heard.
Liz was standing up and looking at her mother: she could see as her thighs moved up and down a continual stream of sweat and fuck juice streaming down.
The refrain of passion continued: "Oh, oh, oh...OH!"
Liz, doubtless wishing to play a part in this magnificent fleshly duet knelt down, and since the divan was very low, pointed her tongue between the thighs right at the little pink hole in the middle of the deep furrow. Then the hole transformed itself into frenzy...Madam de O became an unleashed fury beneath this caress which made her whole body rise upward and made her groans louder and louder. Her whole body was covered in streams of sweat.
"Oh, oh, oh!"
However she did not stop her exertions, that was quite obvious, she was possessed completely with lust. She jerked her body backwards and forwards almost letting his tool come out of her streaming cunt and then jerking forward hard again. But under the influence of this prolonged exercise one could hardly expect the tool to remain rigid I Madam de O realized this, and seized hold of the prick in one hand and began to rub it up furiously while with her other hand she tickled the lower portions right up to the anus hole...so that the member should retain at least some semblance of rigidity. "Ah, ah, ah! Ah! . . '
And the game went on and on...until suddenly a frightening cry broke out and filled the studio, gradually becoming weaker and then suddenly shrill before weakening again and becoming a kind of prolonged moan. Madame de O had jerked herself violently, bringing the tool quite out of her and she was rolling around on the divan, gripping the cushions in her hands and on the whole seemed as if she was undergoing an epileptic fit. Her eyes were glazed and staring, her mouth gaping, panting and foaming, her thighs jerking spasmodically, such was the picture offered to the onlooker's view.
Having at last disengaged himself, Richard was standing up, rocking with fatigue as one might expect after such a session which must have lasted an hour at least and very probably more! Liz threw her arms around him and they both looked at the lovely woman still shaking with spasms of desire.
Gently moving away from Liz, Richard opened the door of the next room and brought out a bottle of champagne, a lacquered plate and three large glasses. With an adroitness which showed that he was a past master in the art, he opened the bottle without the slightest noise and soon the wine was foaming in the glasses.
"Come on my dear, take some of this, it will calm you down. It's only some champagne. Come on drink it down."
Liz swallowed some down as did Richard. The glasses were refilled and a long kiss sealed the union...
Liz moved back and looked over this handsome man who had just executed such magnificent maneuvers! Her eyes stopped and fixed themselves on the hanging tool which was not yet entirely soft and which was still covered with the sticky dew of desire. On a sudden whim Liz took her glass leant over and grasped the pretty prick which she dipped and washed in the sparkling wine. Richard was taken aback with surprise as she carefully washed and rinsed his tool. Soon it was pink and white, quite clean of the stickiness, but the wine in the glass had lost its limpid clarity, it was now clouded with spunk. After surveying it for a moment Liz raised it to her lips and drank it down deeply, savoring the aphrodisiac beverage, keeping the last gulp in her mouth so that with a kiss she could pass it into Richard's mouth....
Seeing that Madam de O had almost calmed down and that her limbs were motionless, Richard went out quickly and came back a few seconds later with a bottle of eau de Cologne and two towels.
"What are you going to do, Richard."
"Just wait and see..."
Richard poured the eau de Cologne liberally over one of the towels and began to rub the dripping body of the poor woman. Gently yet firmly, a professional masseur could not have done it better, he massaged all the parts of her body from top to toe. As she felt the wonderful contact of this soft massage Madame de O came back to consciousness. Noticing what Richard was doing she said:
"Oh, darling, how nice you are...let me kiss you on the mouth...come closer dear Richard."
When he had finished Richard dried her body with the other towel and then gave her the third glass of champagne which she emptied in a single gulp.
"Oh, Richard, God how you can love!"
Now she presses Richard and her daughter against her breasts.
"Oh, my darlings, how good it was! If you only knew...I am quite dead but oh, so happy. We're going to love each other again and again, aren't we?"
And then began a series of endless kisses all around; and these kisses told more than any words could, how great the communion was between these three souls. One needed a Rubens to put it onto canvas so that this charming ensemble could be preserved for posterity. The three splendid bodies all intertwined, showing the health and the love which was in them, really a worthy subject for the great artist.
"My dears, we have to separate now."
"No...you must stay and have dinner with me, and I will drive you home afterwards."
"My dear Richard, you are so nice, but look how tired out I am, I am completely done in; and if we stay any longer I shall not answer for the consequences. But well be seeing you pretty soon I expect, won't we Liz?"
"Oh, yes Mummy, soon please!"
"And we shall love each other again, as hard as we can. Let me kiss you again..."
After a moment she continued:
"Now Richard, you are not thinking of your little Liz, she must wash herself, she must take precautions you know!"
"I have thought of it; at this very moment I am letting some boiled water cool down. In the room downstairs I have a syringe and one of those French bidets."
"Really you are a dear, Richard. Well let's go then...but Liz, aren't you satisfied yet?"
And in fact, Liz had thrown her arms around Richard and was twisting and turning her body against his, her nipples erected for battle...long moans came from her lips and her thighs rubbed against Richard, one of her legs circling his.
"Darling; oh darling, I want more, give it to me.. .
As he felt this quivering flesh in contact with his own, Richard's prick quickly stood up. And in short, since he could hold out no longer, he turned her over onto the divan and opening her legs, he plunged his mighty instrument into the flaming pussy which was still sticky from the previous encounters...
It did not take long after several thrusts before he felt her swoon away beneath him and the come liquid flood his tool as he felt himself come as well
After a few moments they came back to their senses.
Madame de O looked at them, quite delighted that it had all been done so quickly.
"Well, well, my turtle doves I And Richard was talking about us staying the night! No you are not yet wise enough the both of you. Look at Liz' eyes, they are quite exhausted. We are going to take a car back so that people won't see us in such a state. Ah, Richard you have really got what it takes. How we are going to love each other. You want to don't you Liz?"
"Mummy, I just want anything you want.. . "
"Come and kiss me love."
A half hour later, after having finished dressing, Madame de O and her daughter were waiting for Richard who had gone off to get a taxi. They heard the sound of a car drawing up outside the door and Madame de O opened it. It was Richard alright.
"Here's the car...but won't you really have something else before you go? Yes, here's a drop of champagne left, come along drink it down . .
Then he chose the best roses which were in the room and then after having carefully removed the thorns placed them between the clefts of the two women not before having kissed the spot first.
"Come on Richard, we must go. I'll cable you when we can meet again; either chez moi or here in the studio."
They both held him tight almost suffocating him and murmured together:
"Darling Richard, see you soon."
"Yes my darlings, soon."
"Please call me Mary, your little Mary . .
"All right so be it, Mary and Liz."
"Goodbye now."
As the car moved off, Liz just managed to lean out of the window and whisper:
"Richard, I love you, write me a long letter...please..."
Then the car left...the sound of the engine sped away into the distance and Richard lost sight of the two handkerchiefs which had been fluttering from the window.