And Living Tableaux or My Confessions at the Foot of the Duchess
INTRODUCTION
The secret doings of lesbians have fascinated men since before the days of Lucien, and the writhing of trabades figures prominently in the literature of all ages. Whatever the psychological reason for this preoccupation, whether, as some maintain, it is a masked form of homosexuality on the part of the men so preoccupied, it is still true that the doings of women who love women continues to provide a fascinating area of literature for men the world over.
The lesbians in Perverse Loves are, therefore, quite familiar characters, and the situation, too, is far from unique. A triangle develops in which young Michele is the focus of the loves of famous, dominating Regina and the softer, more persuasive Renee. Both women are in competition for the affections of Michele, and the very intensity of their love ultimately destroys her. The sheer force of the loving they involve her in weakens her and, during a menage a trois, she succumbs to a shuddering climax . . . to her life.
Both women live together for years afterward, saddened by the loss of their loved one, and continue their lesbian relationship, though on a more subdued plane than before. They recognize that their unbridled lust was responsible for the death of lovely Michele, and they learn from their erotic excesses that they have carried desire too far. Still, they find pleasure in each other's arms, long after the time when most women are believed to have lost their sexual desire.
Living Tableaux, or My Confessions at the Foot of the Duchess is a series of light, highly spiced tales in the tradition of the picaresque novel, and in this manner may be compared to Thomas Mann's Confessions of Felix Krull, Confidence Man. The difference is that Krull was a scoundrel, although an admirable one, and the cavalier in Living Tableaux has nothing of the scoundrel about him if we except the fact that he is ready and willing to take on any female (and at least one male) at the drop of a panty or the lifting of a skirt.
He is recounting the stories of his amorous escapades to his Duchess, and the titles are indicative of the nature of the stories he recounts. The Gland, or Our Mother Eve, opens the first volume, and describes nothing more than the so-called 'apple' that proved to be such a temptation in the Garden of Eden. But, says our author, it was no apple at all, but a stiff prick but in order to be able to tell the story to children, the prick has been changed to an apple to make the tale palatable to youngsters.
Then there is a perfectly delightful story called One Ought Not to Fuck One's Own Mother. The mother here, though, is not the cavalier's, but is actually the mother of a girl he wishes to seduce. Now he's played with her through the bars of her bedroom window, and she with him, but he wants the real thing and knows he will have to fuck the mother in order to have an opportunity to get to the daughter. He resolves to, in spite of the fact that she is anything but desirable. Better we let him describe the sensations he experiences:
An immense soft and fat behind rose before my eyes. I thought I was rubbing myself in rancid lard; it seemed to me that I was probing into a sea of sticky water, and I fucked and fucked and fucked, for nothing rubbed me, nothing clamped me, I plunged into empty space. My lover if she could be called that uttered frightful shrieks. Or, to old, lubricious devil that she was! I left her half dead with her disgusting.
But, in the end his effort is not worth while, for after he couples with the daughter he is forced to the ignominy of asking, "Do you feel something?" And she does not. She is totally incapable of sexual response, so after ejaculating he departs for greener fields, vowing never to start with mothers again.
Other stories in this delightful collection are in similar veins, all delightfully executed and full of titillating surprises. They are simple, charming, amusing.
Fred Hoff, Ph.D. New York, New York August, 1968
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"And yet, O Lesbos, your regret is not the cause of my death . . . " (from a Roman poet).
Regina particularly enjoyed the lazy luxury of this morning hour. After having rapidly glanced at her mail and newspapers, she abandoned herself to the whiteness of the lace trimmed pillows on which her thick dark hair spread out, and dreamily relaxed, her gaze distant and far from mundane thoughts.
Two discreet knocks at the door of her room drew her from her reverie, and peevishly she called, "What do you want, Fanny? It's not yet time for me to dress."
"I know, Madame, and that isn't why I disturbed you. There's a worker from Doucet who asks to see you."
"At this hour? What does she want of me?"
"She says she has an urgent communication for Madame."
"Then let her visit me at my dressmaker this afternoon."
"But she doesn't come from Doucet, Madame. She is here for personal reasons and wishes to see Madame alone."
"Ah, yes, I understand! Another one who wishes to improve her station and tries to win my favor! Tell her I'm not receiving."
"Yes, Madame."
But, a few moments later, the maid returned to tell Regina that the young woman was insistent, seemed emotionally distraught and in no way motivated by seeking self-advancement. Regina made a spiteful grimace. "Oh, how annoying! All right, I'll receive her as I am, in my bed. Come, arrange my pillows."
While the maid complied, Regina took a little box of rice powder and patted her velvety skin. After a last glance in the mirror, she ordered her maid to bring in the importunate visitor.
"Well, Miss," she said peremptorily, "what's the meaning of this insistence? Speak!"
But there was no reply. The blonde girl who had shown so much courage against the maid's attempts to get rid of her, stood before Regina, timid, unable to articulate a single word.
Exasperated by this silence, Regina nervously exclaimed, "Well, Miss, I'm waiting!"
Then, still mute, the charming creature handed her a letter, and before Regina could recover from her surprise, left the room.
Stunned, Regina stared at the envelope still clutched in her fingers as if not daring to break the seal. First, she thought of ringing for Fanny, but then, calmer, she opened the letter and read:
"Mademoiselle:
"Since you'll leave in a few days to travel far away from France, I can't any longer put off this letter. I admit I don't know how or with what to begin, so strange is what I have to tell you, so afraid am I that you may not read these lines with all the indulgence than can be granted a girl of eighteen who has never written such a letter before.
"In the two years that I've worked for the Doucet shop, I've had occasion to see you, and from the very first time, I was drawn towards you by the indefinable charm in your eyes, your voice, in all your person. I was overjoyed all day long when I saw you. But I must admit that, from the very beginning, I could not define the sentiments which drew me to you . . . and only three months ago I began to understand that I love you.
"In making such an admission to you, I obey now an unknown force which no effort of my will can shackle! I cry out my love in a painful, troubled groan. But you may not comprehend me or respond to my insensate desire and in a few days will leave.
"I read in The Theatre that you're going. So be it but you must know, before that, that it is more than love that urges me towards you, more than passion it is, indeed, a kind of cult.
"I love you with all my youth, with all the ardor of a being who opens herself to the meaning of life. I love you, not as one adores a woman, but as one adores an idol! With fear, with veneration and . . . may I add . . . with a little hope oh, very little, in your kindness. I know it is madness to aspire to you, but is that my fault?
"Why have you found yourself upon my path? Why have I been so troubled by the look of your strangely lovely eyes, by the timbre of your so striking, vibrant voice? For these things are what has conquered, maddened me; your look which bewitches, your voice which captures the multitude and flings them before your feet!
"And then I am equally seduced by the strange charm that emanated from all of you. This charm is made of gentleness, distinction and also a little haughtiness, of the proud kind that subjugates, not by its arrogance or harsliness, but by the nobility of spirit and the instinctive superiority of which you are not even conscious, and which therefore becomes the more imposing. Oh, yes, I love you!
"How many times I've stopped in the midst of working over an account, my heart suddenly beating with emotion. Someone was coming to tell me you were there! Besides, I have an accomplice in the shop who admirably serves me. It is she who will bring you this letter which I will not confide to the mails. It is she who always tells me when you visit the Doucet shop, and I am trying to find myself on your path, see you for a short moment which will suffice, so intense with emotion will it be, to fill my days and nights!
"But don't fear that this accomplice knows my real feelings for you. I love you too much to gossip of my beautiful passion. No, I simply told that young girl that I wished to leave the Doucet shop to devote myself to the theater, that I wanted to talk to you, and she believed me, without discussion.
"Ah, how many times, seeing you so beautiful and majestic, have I not been tempted to take you in my arms and put my ardent lips on your mouth, your hair! Sometimes I regret not having yielded to that burning desire . . . afterwards, I should have killed myself, for I could not have borne your vexation or hatred. And would not a single moment of such happiness be better than long years spent in vain, unattainable dreams?
"Lovely actress, you must often receive these frantic appeals, and you must consider mine like all the others do you even read them, I wonder? Weren't you going to tear this letter up after glaring at the very first lines? Weren't you going to be angry at my audacity? But I don't ask you to love me. I know that would be an insane demand, but I beg you to let yourself be loved, to give the charity of a smile to her who lives only for you and by you. Reply to me a single word not of anger, but out of pity, and let yourself be adored that is all my fervent womanly heart supplicates from your woman's heart that is so pitying and tender. I give you my name. If you don't wish to answer, when you come to the shop for a fitting, have me summoned under any pretext, and tell me that you bear me no ill will for this letter which I have been so bold as to address to you.
"All my being is in the ardent look I put into these last lines, daring to hope that your gaze will read them and think a little of the unfortunate who lives for you and perhaps will die of you!
Michele D-"
Regina read that long letter twice, then remained thoughtful for a long while. Yes, to be sure, she often received letters yearning for her love, her kisses, but none had ever had this freshness and sincerity. She forgot that the woman who had uttered towards her such a cry was a humble employee. She was eighteen, she was sincere, and not one of the rich, titled, perverse women to whom she delivered her body. She was the equal of this modest young girl whose ardor was revealed in every line of that long letter. What would she do and how would she answer it?
She slipped out of bed, and, after folding the letter, hid it in one of the secret drawers of her dresser, then rang for Fanny, and ordered, "Quickly, dress me. What time is it?"
"About quarter after ten."
"Good. Hurry!"
"Madame is going out."
"Yes."
"Madame will not take lunch here."
"No."
When Regina was dressed, she had the telephone brought in and, sending Fanny away, asked the operator to connect her with the Doucet shop. Then she asked that Mademoiselle Michele Dbe brought to the phone for an urgent commission. And this is the dialogue that took place, across the city of Paris, between Regina and Michele.
"Hello, Mademoiselle Michele?"
"Yes, Madame."
"This Madame Regina Partia speaking. Come, come, don't worry. I've had your letter, I've read it entirely and I want to answer it no, no don't speak. Listen to me. I'm going out in a moment. Where are you lunching?"
"In a restaurant near the shop, Madame."
"Good. Well, then, as soon as you leave, come find me at Larue, where I shall give orders. You've only to ask Alfred, the waiter, for me, and we shall lunch together and chat. What do you say to that? You don't dare? But of course. I shan't eat you, little one. You must come. You'll say yes, won't you ? Then, see you soon. Au revoir, Mademoiselle."
And Regina, after a last glance at herself in the mirror, took a cab to Larue where, arranging for a private room, she warned Alfred he was to bring a young girl who would soon be asking for her, and without delay.
Then, somewhat feverish with anticipation at this singular meeting, Regina began to watch the interminable processional of automobiles which drove from the Concorde to Madeleine Street. two lips posed on a still timid mouth, a mouth not yet daring to believe such happiness. Regina's mouth offered itself to Michele's. Oh, the conversation wasn't long! As soon as Michele had been led into the private room, she found herself in the arms of the beautiful artist, for she had immediately pleased the latter. And when that beautiful Regina, object of all her long desires, had offered her greedy lips, Michele thought she would swoon. Truly she was dreaming, feeling the warm breath of her beloved on her flushed face. But no, it was real. Then, as if suddenly seized by delirium, forgetting her timidity, she grasped Regina in turn and covered that adored face with mad, ecstatic kisses. But the waiter was discreetly knocking at the door, and they had to break apart.
The meal, intermingled with kisses, was ending. Regina and Michele, sure of not being disturbed, had amorously examined each other. Then a communal verve had cast them into each other's arms, and wildly they followed their desires, kissing every exposed corner of flesh which their attire disclosed. But these kisses were enervating. They wore too much . . . bah, what did it matter, though! They flung themselves on the wide divan without heed of their dresses, clutching each other in frenzied embraces, feeling through the modest material of their attire their excited bodies quivering. It seemed to them at times that their very flesh communicated despite the barrier of clothes which separated them.
Regina, the more robust and the more audacious, suddenly broke away from Michele's embrace. With a brusque movement, she flung the young girl back on the divan, knelt down before her, and spreading wide her shuddering victim's legs, exposed from its hiding place beneath soft caressing lace and thin cloth a cunny covered with soft blonde pussy-fur. Her long white fingers easily parted the silky tendrils as Regina sought the darling lips of that sweet pussy. And at once she beheld the little button of flesh, turgid and erect, demanding kisses, excited by this prelude. Such kisses, long, exquisite kisses, Regina now applied to that coral tidbit, yet they were strange kisses in which her tongue played the principal role. Her pink tongue flicked in and out of her avid mouth, made itself wide and soft to lick the better, and Michele, swooning, uttered little cries which rose fervently as her joy mounted deep in the soft yearning coral-fleshed well of her delicious cunthole.
She too yearned to reciprocate, to bestow on the woman she so longingly adored just such impassioned, exotic kisses!
But her beautiful companion resisted, and Michele remained saddened by this lack of trust. A sadness dissipated, however, for Regina murmured into her ear these magic words. "Tonight, you'll have all of me yes, my pussy, my love button, all you want, my angel!"
And a rendezvous was set for ten that night. Michele, who lived with her family, needs must contrive some excuse to sleep with one of her girl friends and inform the latter of the deception to be played.
From her side, Regina wished to prepare a mise en scene which would lead her overly-curious maid to believe that she awaited the visit of a relative from the provinces. And both, after a last passionate embrace, parted reluctantly and hopefully!
Everything went as they had hoped, and the two charming females laughed under the cover of their respective solicitude for credulous relatives and overly perspicacious servants for Fanny, though very formal and poised, didn't believe a word of the fable her mistress had invented. However, much to the woman's relief, she left them alone. Their faces were bright with desire as they regarded each other in their elegant night chemises, and there was a harmonious contrast in their beauty. Each appreciated the other, for both were artists in their divergent careers, and so they first examined each other with a little surprise to see themselves revealed to each other in their most intimate undress.
This appreciation must have been mutually favorable, for after a few short moments, their bodies, separated only by the fine, thin batiste of their chemises, joined and pressed together, and in an entwining which the priestesses of Sappho would have envied them, they moved towards the couch, destined altar of their love.
Michele, though younger and less experienced, was nonetheless the bolder, for it was she who was in love, and she had been for a long time. Her desire was so violent, though till now of course only cerebral, she had dreamed of this night of love for so long that, like a ranging young cavalier, she took the initiative and fell upon that body so greatly desired and now immodestly offered to her caresses. Her lips clung to Regina's, and she at once slid her tongue between Regina's lips to announce her total and eager readiness for this feverish tryst. Ah, how long this moment of ecstasy had been awaited to feel at last the beloved being all to oneself, without fear of seeing it vanish from embrace! To be certain it would not flee, that at this moment it had no other concern save sweet surrender, no care save that of giving itself up to love! In this moment, Michele savored her victory both as woman and as lyrical poet of love; she would never forget it, she would recall it as an engraving indelibly wrought upon her secret heart, and she instinctively felt that no other moment, no matter how violently impassioned, could bring her greater joy. She had conquered, and is not conquest the most delicious of all life's experiences ?
But all these thoughts, which take moments to express, flashed with lightning swiftness through Michele's brain. Now Michele's tongue enervated Regina, who clasped her new friend's body vehemently to her; Regina even made a movement to shift herself, but Michele remained mistress of the situation. Gently but firmly she held Regina, and then slipped down along that luscious body, to halt at the temple she longed to reverence.
Her fingers trembled a little as she pushed aside the silky tufts concealing Regina's cunt, for which she had longed interminably. It was her first such experience, and she feared being clumsy, thus compromising her love. She didn't know that love is the best of teachers, the sole inspiration of kisses of all kinds. Yet bravely she went to the assault, and oh, how exquisite it was for her to dart her tongue against that little pink button which seemed to throb, so feverish with desire was it. Her tongue foraged over and beyond the dainty clitoris, and with such passion that Regina experienced a surprising, delicious glow of ecstasy. Never had she had a more expert mouth doing homage to her cunt!
And Michele, dazzled with love in feeling the cunny-spasms she herself was provoking in that sweet, secret Venus-castle of her long-coveted, adored beloved, continued rubbing her tongue over that dainty little nodule which soon flooded it with a warm, honeyed liqueur. But Regina uttered a kind of groan; her body, in a more violent spasm, jerked and seemed to flee this assault. Michele understood she must allow respite, and hastily, having wiped her mouth, again fused it to Regina's, who bit it with little cries of voluptuous rapture.
But this much too simple caress did not satisfy the voluptuary that Regina was, so, with a force to which Michele could hardly find resistance, reversed Michele onto her back, mounted her, and, enlacing her like a young male, one of her legs between her new friend's quivering thighs, rubbed and arched herself as in the act of fucking between man and woman, which exacerbated the young tyro, till she soon was prey to a desire that terrified her, since it was unknown. She wished to feel herself penetrated by Regina; all her pussy seemed to yawn open to receive that probing that thrusting that that she couldn't define. Her body bounded in an instinctive movement no one had ever taught her as mounting lust took possession of her body.
Regina guessed this burning desire, and yet, knowing Michele to be a virgin, entered her forefinger gently towards the dainty little orifice which no profaning prick had ever furrowed. Delicately, she rubbed and tickled it in order to penetrate without hurting the girl too much. But all this enervated the charming novice. She could not tell whether it was a finger or something else trying to lodge inside her virgin crevice. She bounded and wriggled like a young goat, and in one of her disordered movements, she overcame Regina's prudence. The probing forefinger thrust into conquered terrain, drawing a cry of pain from the unhymened girl. As if that cry were a stimulant, Regina, instead of removing her finger from Michele's matrix, began an in-and-out fucking motion, as with the other arm she tightened Michele to her, murmuring intoxicating words.
"My beautiful virgin! You're mine, I've had you! I'm the one who's fucked you, sweet one! Oh, my mistress, how I'm going to love you up! Do you feel my member penetrate your pussy, my sweet Michele? Do you feel your pussy wet with generous girl-spunk now? Wait, I'm going to come too! Ohh, my lover, I'm in you, I've got all of me in your pussy ahh ahh ohh ahhhh!"
Swooning, Regina, who had roused her own lust with these declarations of cunt-passion and intoxicated Michele enough to forget the pain of her defloration, rolled upon that trembling, conquered body which belonged to her and which trembled more with Michele's own happiness than with Regina's feverish orgasmic joy.
Yet Regina was insatiable. Feminine tact told her that she had caused suffering and must appease it. So she put her head between her victim's legs and very gently, delicately, began to suck Michele's inflamed pussy. Soon Michele's sobs of pain turned to moans and whimpers of yearning, thanks to such skillful gamahuching. Then Regina adroitly moved her body and lowered her pussy onto Michele's mouth. The girl understood and with her panting lips sought for, found, and began to suck Regina's clitoris, so that each of them gamahuched like two possessed.
Regina longed to penetrate that beautiful body. Having moistened her finger with saliva, she slipped it into the darling little cunny. Victory as it entered, Michele by means of the wildly accelerated thrusts of her tongue, proved that she tasted bliss in feeling her cunt finger-fucked. In her turn she sought to thrust her finger into Regina's warm, moist slit, but in her ardor and inexperience, made the error of probing into the amber, crinkly asshole of her lover. Regina in no way protested, for the sensation was exquisite, and for a moment the two darlings licked each other's cunts as they augmented the sensation of the rhythmic in-and-out fingerings which procured each of them indescribable raptures.
Their bodies shook with rut and finally, in a last spasm, they gave down their cream at the same moment. . . they were pale, stretched out side by side, their tresses disheveled and intermingled, their eyes drowned with love. They didn't speak, but oh, how eloquent their silence was! A silence which indeed, all by itself, became a poem of love.
If from the very first days of this amorous liaison, Michele lived in a paradise of moral and physical sensations, if she let herself subsist in the intoxication which her triumph brought her without thinking of the morrow and even forgetting fears and cares of the past or future, Regina was not without some anxiety on the subject of this new love which had suddenly precipitated itself upon her in the midst of her already complicated life.
Indeed, if Michele had been only a plaything for her, there would have been no need to concern herself with the future of this amorous adventure to which she had unthinkingly delivered herself in taking her pleasure and all its diverse sensations. But in having initiated Michele, in having given that lovely virgin body its first vibrations of pleasure, she had been left in a reverie and then, unknowingly, had been won by that beautiful, real, sincere love, so that finally in her turn she had known what love was!
But this new passion was a prodigious complication in her life, for Regina gave herself up absolutely to a single idea that seized and held her. Dominated by this new passion, she foresaw herself disorganized in everything else of her existence. She knew now only how to live for and through her Michele, and the rest seemed inconsequential.
She thought of all that on the very evening when she awaited her dear one, the third night she was to spend with her. Michele was rarely free at night, and as she had to work at the Doucet shop during the day, it was not often Regina had the chance of possessing her. Regina thought, too, she had not entirely conquered her lover's maidenhood. That conquest with her finger had not been really complete. So she took precautions to make that victory a total one this night, and at the thought of the voluptuousness she would enjoy, she closed her eyes and dreamed, shaken by the images of desire.
They were stretched out, their eyes lost in silent contemplation. Michele's body seemed to summon acts of exquisite lasciviousness, and awaited the gesture that would make her happy. But, enigmatic now, Regina did not hasten matters.
With her expert finger, she gently frigged Michele's tingling clitoris, and soon she felt a moisture, a precursor of the final climax. The darling girl pressed hard against her, as if to be swallowed up in her.
Then with her free hand, before Michele who was too amorously occupied could see it, Regina seized a superb dildo, quite long and as round on one side as on the other; its warmth indicated that it was filled with a heated liquid that would play the role of love spunk. As she continued to frig Michele, she sought to probe the dildo into her lover; then brusquely, having penetrated her cunt, she flung herself atop Michele and with a vigorous thrust impaled her cunthole. The gesture was so unexpected that Michele did not at first understand what was happening to her, and then she was at once dominated by that intense warmth, almost to the point of forgetting the mild suffering which that perforation of her cunt occasioned. Besides, after so ingenious an introduction, Regina, like a considerate male, began to fuck her sweetheart, drawing the dildo in and out, and when she saw Michele's eyes glaze with passion and her mouth exhale an ecstatic sigh, she herself became wildly excited, uttering exquisitely lewd words, such as she had never yet said to anyone.
"I love you, my adored little virgin! I'm putting all my cock into your sweet cunny, Michele! I can feel what you're experiencing, and my thighs shudder with your own urge to gush down your sweet pussy's dew! Oh my little bitch, my darling slut, do you feel my cock inside your cunny now?"
"Yes, yes," Michele, half fainting, murmured. "I'm yours, I'm your thing, your bed-slave, your bitch oooh, take me, my beautiful lover, fuck me oh, fuck me, Regina! It's too much oohh, what are you doing to me? But I'll faint before I spend oh, beautiful Regina, take my life, take all of me, my pussy, my life, my cream, oooh, it's yours, all of it ahhhh!"
"Yes, yes, I want your very life, I want to fill you with child, down deep in your sweet tight cunny, darling! I adore you, my Michele, my wife there there my spunk, there, do you feel it? It's in your cunny, darling wife!"
Touching the secret button of the dildo, Regina let the warm liquid spurt into Michele's matrix. "Ohh what are you doing what are you putting into my pussy, my dearest? Ahh ahh ahh ohh, it's too much I'm dying, I'm dying your mouth, oh, give me your mouth yes ahh I I adore you ohhhh!"
As Michele uttered these panting cries, the two bodies, now with hers impaled by the immutably stiff pseudo-cock, writhed, surged, enlaced, ground together, carried away to a seventh heaven of delight from which they yearned never to return!
Regina's cheeks pressed against Michele's. From the touch of their naked skin alone against the other's, each experienced a long shivering that surged all through their bodies, like an electric current that emanated from their palpitating flesh and merged them into an inseparable oneness.
They had the intuition that their very flesh was conceived to grant them both joy of each other, and as if they were afraid to see themselves separated from this unison and communal singleness, they clutched each other frantically, wanting to go on fucking thus for ever and ever . . . Regina's dildo was burrowed to the artificial balls inside Michele's quaking cunt, its stiffness yielding not one whit to the sweet nipping of that adorable but now no longer virgin cunny.
The day after that voluptuous night, Michele took a slight fever which kept her in her room for several days. Regina, pretending to be a client of the dress salon where Michele worked which was, to be sure, quite accurate took her friend back to her parents. After introducing herself to them, Regina offered to stay to look after her lover. And when Michele's mother said she would go to the pharmacist and found she didn't have her keys, Regina eagerly offered to await her return, and thus the two young women were alone together once more. As soon as the sound of the front door's closing told them they had nothing to fear, Regina's mouth sealed Michele's fever, finding them a little feverish and yet the kiss was all the more exquisite to her because of that.
They exchanged kisses often, to such a point that, despite Michele's fever, each of them begged with her eyes for more intimate caresses. Regina was first to yield to that supplication by sliding her hand under the sheets, finding the furry fleece of Michele's cunt and prying in her finger till she found the dainty nodule of pussyflesh, that supreme key to all the young girl's emotions, her sensitive clitoris. Gently, she began to rub that lodestone with the tip of her finger, and presently felt the sweet moisture of love dew. Michele's eyes riveted on her lover's. Regina, feeling the sick girl shiver with pleasure, ready to give down her cunny-cream, murmured, "Let me see you come, darling!"
"Yes, yes," Michele faintingly moaned. Their lips sealed this new desire. But Regina hadn't had pleasure, and Michele, whose love was intense and unselfish, wished to make her come too.
"But I can't lie down, dear," Regina joked.
"No," Michele murmured, "but you can get on all fours over my mouth and then you'll see!"
Regina obeyed, laughing to see herself in such a pose, dressed, her hat and gloves on, while greedily Michele's lips sucked that pink button just inside her cunny. It was indeed the very perversity of this pose and attire which made the experience the more maddeningly pleasurable, for Regina soon spent, uttering sighs that left no doubt to the fruition of that bliss which Michele's ardent gamahuching had procured for her.
It was time: a knock on the door scarcely left Regina time to restore her clothes to order. She went to open the door of the antechamber which, happily, was plunged into darkness, thereby preventing Michele's mother from seeing the animation in her daughter's face and the fever in her large, lovely eyes. Regina left her friend after promising to visit the next day.
As she was driven back, she pretended still to be with her beloved Michele. She squeezed her shapely thighs together, imagining that Michele's delicate pink tongue was still frigging her cunny button, and she suddenly paled and swayed, so realistic was the illusion.
She ordered the cab driver to take her to the Bois. Languidly, she leaned back, and began to be lulled by the smooth movement of the car. She glanced at the driver and saw only his clean, sturdy bare neck, emerging from his white collar. A sudden erotic fantasy took her: what if he fucked her then and there? She felt herself sexually roused, subjugated, attracted, by that male neck. It was madness! She turned her gaze away, yet despite herself, her eyes moved back to fix on that male flesh. She summoned up the memory of Michele, even seeking to relive the ecstasy of their clandestine love-making just now, but that male neck persisted, dominated.
Yet it wasn't just his neck. In her mind, there rose the image of a naked man, his muscular, fleshy, thick, long prick bobbing between his sinewy thighs, coming towards her, ready to pierce her cunt to the deepest recesses. Maddened by this desire, she tried to call out her address so he would take her there, so that the sound of her voice would cut through the miasmic lust that was seething in her but no sound emerged from her trembling lips. What could she do? She was suffering now, and her flesh burned with desire.
Now they had arrived at the Bois and it was getting dark. The driver, believing she wanted to take a stroll, turned into a completely deserted side road. She knocked against the pane and he stopped the car. He remained motionless, waiting. Then, as Regina didn't move, he got out, opened the door to ask for orders. But then the temptation grew too great, and Regina, heedless of what she did, suddenly seized his hand and drew the virile male into the back with her. At first a bit surprised, he remained undecided, eyes wide and questioning. But that hesitation didn't last long. He stared at her and understood, and to her widening, rapturous eyes, he bared his superbly stiff prick. Then, adroitly, trussing up her dress and lowering her intimate garments, he shoved the tip of his prick into her soft cunt.
She didn't resist, seeming to await this denouement with ecstasy. His prick was thrust to the very balls in her innermost nook, while his strong arms drew her to his swelling chest. She soon felt herself deluged with a gush of hot spunk, and her mouth, crushed by his, told her that he had attained his climax. Perversely, obeying her instinct and without reflection, she gave him back his kiss. Not a word had been spoken all this while.
Did he understand that his good fortune was a lucky accident, that he owed it to the panic of her soul and senses? Was he less vulgar than a man of the masses? What was going on in his mind? It mattered little, and shortly thereafter he quickly got out of the cab to restore order to his uniform, and a moment later respectfully said to Regina, "I shall take Madame to another cab."
Surprised at his discretion, she looked at him, then nodded. She needed that delicate tact after this brutal yielding, for she was disgusted with herself. Her senses now satisfied by that energetic fuck, she was ready to weep for having yielded so grossly, and she was filled with remorse for having so shamelessly deceived Michele with this strange male. When the car stopped, she handed him a banknote and told him to keep it all. And before he could answer, she got out and entered another cab, giving that driver an address far distant from the real one of her abode, so she could change to still another cab miles further on and thus conceal her identity.
As soon as she was back home, she stripped naked and bathed, toweled and perfumed herself, wishing to purify herself from the male. Then, after a quick meal, she went to bed where, broken by so much emotion, she slept soundly, dreaming that a naked man with a stiff, hard, tremendously virile cock, was fucking her beloved Michele while she was forced to stand and watch, uttering cries of fright and jealousy.
For several days, Regina remained dazed by this unforeseen adventure. She went back to visit Michele, who was improving, but refused to touch the girl, wishing first to purify herself completely. But Michele was really cured, and one evening when Regina had gone there, informed her adored lover that she had just told her mother that "my dear friend Regina is taking me away for a few days to the country so I can recover my strength." And, she told Regina, her mother had agreed to the project.
Regina was delighted with this news. She at once forgot the episode of the cabdriver, and, two days later, the two friends left for Spain. The trip was an enchantment. Michele, who had never known the luxury of traveling in a sleeping car and who made her first trip thus on one of Europe's finest trains, could not stop expressing her gratitude to her beautiful friend who had provided her with such comfort and joy. They spent their first night in their compartment, gamahuching each other to the soft rhythmic movement of the train, and fucked each other with the artificial prick which they had filled beforehand with warm milk to represent spunk as realistically as possible to heighten their erotic bliss.
In Spain, they reveled in the scenery and the examples of Arabian architecture which left its imprint principally in Cadiz and Granada.
They spent such happy hours that they scarcely knew how swiftly they passed away. One afternoon while they were contemplating the blue sea from which Cadiz, in the distance, emerged from the edge of its gulf, just as Venice appears at the crest of lagoons, their gaze was drawn to two superb males amorously entwined. The weather was magnificent, the spot deserted. The men hadn't seen Michele and Regina, and, without concerning themselves with any fear of being spied on, seemed as if hypnotized, their faces together. Intrigued, Regina and Michele hid themselves as best they could to watch this strange lovemaking. Suddenly seeming tired of looking at each other, the two men stopped, and then, glancing swiftly around, they embraced, their hands clasped, as they remained in motionless ecstasy.
Then one of the men drew his cape round them both, and, taking out his companion's prick, began to frig it till his friend uttered a cry of fulfillment. Regina and Michele, excited by this spectacle, fled wihout being seen. It seemed to them their love was far greater than this parody of desire, and they hastened to bed, eager to be together and to prove that Sapphic pleasure surpassed the disgusting simulacrum of male to male.
Michele and Regina stayed two days in Tangiers. As their first day was extremely warm, they went out in the evening to breathe the balmy air. They walked slowly, and the bright moonlight let them see a group of white houses set on tiers similar to those of Algiers. Minarets interspersed them, as well as palm trees and half-ruined walls. Around the city could be seen the green hills, sparsely strewn with pine trees and carob trees, sprinkled here and there with hedges of aloes and Barbary fig trees. The Casbah, an old Moroccan palace, dominated the ensemble and decorated it with its antique, picturesquely crumbling towers. They stood motionless before this beauty, impressed by the silence, squeezing each other's hand with uneasy affection. Two silhouettes suddenly moved out onto the white cobblestones and, under the bright moonlight, Michele and Regina recognized the two men they had seen a few days before at Cadiz.
They wanted to leave, not caring to witness another spectacle which only disgusted them, but they feared making a noise that would attract the men's attention, so they hid behind a rock. The men, believing themselves alone, sat down on a kind of stone bench and began to kiss each other. They then lowered their trousers, and buggered each other in turn, uttering cries of joy.
Regina and Michele went back to their hotel, upset by what chance had let them witness. They went to bed quietly, brooding over the repugnant scene. But when their bodies brushed together, they drew closer, and burning kisses made them forget the odious spectacle. As if they wished to obliterate the unnatural act they had seen, they avoided all frenzy in their movements, and gamahuched each other gently.
But Regina, of a more perverse spirit than Michele, was haunted by the image of the two men buggering each other, and she went to prepare the dildo with its warm spunk-like fluid. Michele did not stir, believing she would be fucked by her friend, and, since she adored that wooing and submitted to it with joy, she let Regina approach without the least protest.
What was her stupefaction to hear Regina murmur, "Turn over, darling!"
And as she blindly obeyed her beautiful lover, she obeyed once more. Then Regina, her lust fired to rut at the sight of the plump, round bare bottom-cheeks of her charming young sweetheart and hypnotized by the vista of that dainty, amber round orifice from which a few stray dark blonde hairs sprouted, directed the tip of her artificial prick towards that inlet, while pressing the angling second shaft of the dildo into her own pussy. As Michele was a virgin to sodomy and had a dainty little bunghole, she uttered two or three stifled cries of pain, but Regina had foreseen this and had anointed the artificial prick with vaseline. She resumed her penetration, delicately and gently, and to
Michele's great astonishment, this probing began to shake her with a long voluptuous shiver.
Her sensations were so intense that she surrendered herself, distending her bum hole to feel herself even more deeply furrowed, and Regina, realizing what pleasure she thus bestowed, and her own excitement mounting at the sound of Michele's moans and whimpering sobs, was nearly swooning with perverse delight as she uttered gasping plaints in which Michele's name was repeated with infinite endearments. The lovely young girl, not knowing such pleasure previously, found herself arriving at an incredible state of delirium. Soon, unable to endure the Tantalus of bliss, she begged Regina to stop, and at last the dominatrix, a little scared by Michele's nearly fainting conduct, complied.
After she had laid the stiff, artificial prong on the night table, she went back to Michele, who was very pale, eyes haggard and lips still trembling, and who murmured, "It was too good, my love, I thought I was dying." And she pressed her face between Regina's swelling titties. A few moments later, feeling stronger, Michele asked, "Do you want to?" Regina nodded. And soon Michele, the dildo strapped to her loins, one shaft probing her own sweet cunny, was fucking Regina, who moaned, "Ah, it's good, ohh, oh my God, I'm coming all the time, I'm burning up, oh fuck me, Michele, ohh darling, put it into my cunny as far as it will go ahh!"
Thus encouraged, Michele speeded her movements, thrusting home the pseudo-prick, till both beauties fell back exhausted, their eyes dark-circled which bespoke the frenzied sensations each had tasted.
Both lovers tasted the cup of joy to the lees in lovely Spain, but when they returned to Paris, both were tired perhaps a little tired of each other. Michele resumed her job, and Regina began to rehearse a play in which she was to interpret the leading role. So they saw each other seldom during the first week of their return.
However, one afternoon, Michele, off for the rest of the day, went to look for Regina at the theatre. She wore an adorable dress which made her look lovelier than usual. Without waiting, she walked out onto the stage where several actors were rehearsing various scenes. Regina was about to rehearse a rather long scene, and Michele, leaning against an upright on the set, patiently readied herself to wait.
She had been there a few moments when a comment from the director made everyone laugh. A quiet young woman who was about to leave stopped at the sound of this laughter, and her eyes met Michele's. She addressed a pleasantry to Michele, who replied amiably, and this began a conversation, while the rehearsing resumed and Regina continued to be unaware of her friend's presence. Soon Michele learned that the young woman was the author of the play being rehearsed. A current of sympathy was established almost at once between the young girl and this author, Mademoiselle Renee Dervien.
From Michele's side, it was a kind of admiring respect which drew her towards the young woman, almost famous for her writing, and whose charming novels she had enjoyed. Her admiration was doubled in finding Renee so young, lovely and simple in behavior. As for Renee, she admired Michele's beauty, and, knowing Regina's tastes as she did, she envied the actress.
When Regina had at last finished her scene and perceived Michele off to one side of the stage, she found the latter chatting with Renee in such a confidential tone that she believed they knew each other. Moreover, that idea was confirmed when she sought to introduce them and Renee saucily interposed, "Useless, my dear. We know each other." Michele, unable to define the sentiment that made her act thus, was silent and thus lent credibility to this little white lie.
As soon as Regina was alone with Michele, her first words were to ask how it was she knew Renee and why she hadn't told her about it before. Michele, continuing the fabrication, related that she had often met Renee as a client of the salon where she worked, which Regina unhesitatingly believed. However, without her admitting it, the poison of jealousy began to torment her soul and she was, this particular day, extraordinarily amiable towards Michele, who understood that she was loved since Regina was jealous.
Indeed, Michele had never ceased loving her famous friend, but she felt herself drawn towards the delicious young author whose intelligence was a hundredfold more refined than Regina's. Dreamy and sentimental after the girl-fucking Regina gave her, Michele felt herself appeased and tired, wishing only repose. But Regina's temperament was quite different. If she sustained a momentary physical weariness, it did not last and already she sought new embraces.
However, it was with Michele that she really intended to resume her amorous bouts. But the scene between her sweetheart and Renee Dervien had made her insensately jealous and, as with a man, this emotional crisis sufficed to render Michele desirable anew.
She therefore sweetly asked Michele to dine with her and spend the night, but Michele, obeying a sentiment as yet not clearly defined in her mind, replied that her mother wished her to dine at home, so the friends parted coldly. Regina's heart gnawed by this mounting jealousy, while Michele was happy though she would not be so tactless as to admit it in having escaped her lover's renewed desires.
Regina, when she returned from the theater where she had spent an hour to distract herself it was a play in which she was not acting, a kind of busman's holiday for her, as it were went to bed and felt an immense desire to fuck Michele. She wanted to cry out, so fiercely did the urge to fuck and bugger sweet Michele seethe in her pussy. The thought of their past loving so excited her that she touched her titties and inner thighs and pussy, first discreetly in a way which only enervated her the more. Then, at last, unable to endure the torment longer, she took out the double dildo, and having first filled it with warm milk, thrust one half into her bunghole and the other into her itching pussy. Then, with a forefinger, she began to frig her clitoris. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to evoke the image of Michele, and, achieving that illusion, murmured exquisitely libidinous phrases to the absent Michele, imagining games she had not yet played with her sweet charmer. Excited, she gushed down her love-cream with a furious come.
She remained prostrated for a long moment, savoring the pleasure she had achieved. Then, as soon as her composure was restored, she saw the double dildo on the bed, and knew herself to be truly alone. In her mind now there rose the sight of Michele bending tenderly to Renee, and bitterly, having the presentiment of being abandoned, she wept till nearly dawn.
Yet the next day, Michele felt remorse for the way she had behaved towards Regina, for she knew she could readily have spent the night with her, had she wished.
She wasn't yet seduced by Renee's charm, and, truly, she still loved Regina and could not forget, even flattered by the attraction of a new friend who wished to be more than that, all the adoration she had had for the actress. She couldn't forget that Regina had been her inspired initiatress into the sweet games of gamahuching and frigging and fucking, that she had sacrificed all to her and that if she no longer retained any virginity, Regina had taken all she had. Since it's rare that a woman forgets her first lover, so Michele felt it would be hard to rid her mind of Regina's amorous influence.
Most of all, the fact was she still loved Regina, she desired her less, because her senses were weary of so many orgies, but she still loved her . . . and so she wrote her a charming letter in which she depicted her state of mind while at the same time hiding all those facets which might pain Regina, and she promised her the following evening as rendezvous. A wire almost at once informed her that her letter had been welcome and that Regina would keep the appointment.
Following the dictates of heart and conscience, Michele let the hours pass, absorbed with the thought of seeing Regina again and even banning from her thoughts the memory of Renee. But she had first an errand to run, and it took her near the theater where Regina was rehearsing. Despite herself, she was tempted to enter the building. Conquering that urge, she examined herself and asked herself if she really wanted to see Regina a few hours sooner than their rendezvous was that, she wondered, her real motive for going to the theater ? No, she had to admit it was the desire to hear the warm, sweetly modulated voice of Renee. Knowing this, she went back home, saddened.
But now her anguish had fled. She was with her sweetheart, who held her in her arms, after a charming evening during which Regina entertained her by singing, without manifesting the brutal desire to fuck or bugger her. Michele felt herself conquered anew, wanting only to give herself to her cherished lover. Regina, her intuition usually so keen in such matters, had not quite sensed that Michele was escaping from her. For her, too, the reunion was so harmonious that she could not admit the sign of shadows on the horizon of their love. Yet her ardor was unleashed by all the waiting she had been obliged to endure away from her mistress, and so her avid mouth greedily sought Michele's. The latter generously offered hers to that passionate kiss which pronounced Regina's furious cunt-passion.
After having kissed Michele's lovely, naked body from head to toe, she lowered her mouth to the quivering loins of her sweetheart and began to suck Michele's cunt gently, slowly, as if seeking to win the girl all over again to her wooing. And Michele, delighted by the gentleness of this attunement, gave herself up to the delicious languor of a love dream, losing all notion of time and place, zealously surrendering to her beloved Regina who could procure such ecstasy for her twitching pussy.
But she too wished to bestow joy as well as receive it, and, feeling herself still aflame with desire, told Regina, "Give me your rosy little button, dearest," and as soon as Regina had mounted in reverse over her, each began to suck the other passionately. Soon, one heard inarticulate little cries, the sound of sucking lips which grew more intense, more greedy, till at last a simultaneous, tremendous climax sent them sprawling amid the rumpled sheets, panting and moaning with fulfillment.
Regina feared using her dildo on this occasion. She lay over her friend as a man would, and gently slid her forefinger into Michele's cunny, putting it in deep, then drawing it back out with a tantalizing slowness. It seemed to her that thus tasting her lover's naked body against hers, the pleasure was far more intense. She followed each movement, each vibration of Michele's palpitating body under hers as a perceptive man might do when fucking his sweetheart. She almost forgot it was her finger, not a prehensile prick, that achieved this pleasure for them both, and she inflamed herself with lewd words, attained her girl-gush at the very moment Michele had hers. In her mind's eye, her finger had become a sublimely potent prick, capable of weaning all the love cream out of Michele's cunt. To her, it was a symbol that their love had been restored.
They lay entwined, mouth to mouth, staring at each other's eyes, and Regina seemed to rediscover her very first ardor towards gentle Michele, while in turn the latter believed herself as much in love as she had been those first magical hours. Their tongues rubbed together languorously, and Regina's finger remained burrowed to the hilt in Michele's matrix. So they fucked each other again, prolonging their pleasure till the shattering instant of delirium, and, merging into a single being, surrendered each to the other without reserve.
It was the day after this memorable night. Michele, her eyes huge and hollowed, her limbs weary, was listlessly working in the dress shop. A young apprentice came to tell her that a client was asking for her in the salon, and Michele hurriedly walked there, believing that Regina had come to surprise her, forgetting that this time of day was when Regina was on stage.
So she found herself a little disappointed when, from the threshold, she recognized Renee Dervien. Gently, the author held out her elegantly gloved hand and Michele amicably shook it. "You weren't expecting me?" she asked.
"I admit it," Michele began.
"I came quite by chance, and I wanted to say hello to you. I hope I didn't disturb you ? "
"Oh, not at all," Michele sincerely avowed, stricken again by that vibrant, seductive young voice, by the charm that emanated from the lovely author.
"Then may we chat a bit?"
"Of course!"
Renee seated herself on a little white bench, the kind inevitably found in all dress shops, and with a graceful gesture, she invited Michele to sit beside her. They chatted a quarter of an hour of this and that, and then Michele asked for news of the play in which Regina was acting and which Renee had written. The latter replied, "It goes very well, and your friend Regina is perfect in it."
Michele was almost annoyed to hear Regina's name pronounced, and adroitly changed the subject. Renee seemed grateful to her for this, and made a special effort to be playful and charming. When they parted, Renee invited Michele to come have tea with her. When she held out her gloved hand to say goodbye, Michele gently kept hold of that slim hand, under pretext of repeating her promise to accept that invitation, and Renee squeezed her slim fingers a little more than was strictly necessary.
Both of them wanted to say goodbye with a kiss, but neither of them, for different motives, dared attempt it, so they finally parted, after a last exchange of affectionate looks and promises to see each other again soon.
When she went back to her work, Michele thought of that young woman whose charm and voice so swiftly seduced her, without thinking that only an hour before she had thought only that Regina was queen of her heart. Yet in this short time Regina had lost her place, even without Michele's quite knowing why.
Michele hastened with a light heart Towards the little mansion in Passy where Renee Dervien stayed. Once across the threshold, she was admiring the perfect taste of the furnishings. But she had little time for appraisal, for Renee appeared before her draped in a peplum that molded out her delicious figure. At once she went to Michele with extended hand, but before her visitor could protest, she drew her towards her and kissed her.
It was a light, soft kiss, not at all perverse and yet it sufficed to stir Michele's emotions to their depths. Noticing this sweet confusion, Renee invited Michele to take off her hat, then led her to her studio where tea was served.
As she entered the huge room, Michele was amazed to see a portrait on a stand . . . her own! Renee smiling explained, "Oh, I paint rather badly, but I wanted to try this portrait from memory. What do you think of it?"
"Why, it's exquisite and a very good likeness," Michele admitted, then was silent.
Renee murmured, "Come sit down next to me, so we can chat at our ease, dear."
Michele sat beside Renee, their bodies brushing together at moments. Their hands touched, their laughter was edgy with secret longings, their eyes evaded each other. Renee was very pale, and Michele felt a kind of delicious torpor creep over her. Then suddenly Renee's hand, which was held in Michele's, tightened, and Michele signalled her consent to that silent, eloquent plea with a gentle nod of her lovely head. Then Renee very gently put her arm round Michele's waist and pressed a long burning kiss on her lips. The prolonged kiss was an avowal, and Michele savored its exquisite gentleness. She felt Renee's lips brush her feverish cheeks, her eyelids, and a feeling of approaching paradise came over her. She still thought of Regina, but it was a last thought of that love which she believed to be so great and which was now dying without her wishing it.
Thus a tinge of melancholy came to spoil her joy, for she had thought herself forever in love with the actress, and she was resentful of her changing heart. But the image of Renee quickly dispersed all those random thoughts and she went back home in a calmer mood. There, she found an invitation from Regina, which disturbed her for a moment. But soon she sat down and in a resolute handwriting wrote this reply, "Excuse me, dear, I'm suffering. I shall see you tomorrow at your rehearsal, and then I can return your kisses. Michele."
What she did not write and scarcely dared admit to herself was that it was more with the thought of seeing Renee again that she announced her visit to the theater than because of wanting to kiss Regina.
Michele saw Renee several times. She spaced out her visits to Regina, each time feeling more of a stranger to her, so much had Renee charmed, subjugated and seduced her. She felt that all the qualities Renee had she had once attributed to Regina before she had known the latter, all those qualities she hadn't really found. She felt that she loved Regina physically, but not morally. In a word, she had never really esteemed her, and thus her soul was drawn instinctively towards Renee, who was so sentimental, so fine, so full of tact.
She loved Renee, and could not live without her. Sensually, there was as yet nothing to bind them, and yet she realized finally that it was not the appeal to the senses alone which would take the greatest role in their affection. Michele had not yet broken off with Regina. She had no valid pretext to do so, and she feared the embarrassment of such an act.
She had finally accepted an invitation for tonight, one she had put off with the flimsiest of excuses, and she promised herself to avoid any reconciliation, even if she had to profess hesitance at submitting to Regina's caresses. But her will began to totter the moment Regina leaned amorously towards her. Besides, Regina's kisses were so soft and sweet that, young in sexual experience as she was, she could not withstand being moved by them. So she let herself be won by the warmth of Regina's body, and soon began to respond to her advances, having forgotten her resolution to resist, intoxicated by the wakening of her flesh too long deprived of passion. She followed Regina to her bed and abandoned herself to the actress' caresses. And when first she felt that sweetly frictioning tongue on her pussy button, it did not take her long to gush down her love cream, without once being held back by the memory of Renee, whom she adored.
Yet the moment she had had her climax, she flung herself on Regina, kissing her furiously all over her lithe, naked body, sucking her pussy after first kissing her darkened, hardened nipples. Then, emboldened by her own daring initiative, Michele thrust her forefinger into Regina's cunny while she sucked, and even went so far as to slip her other forefinger into Regina's asshole. Soon the beautiful actress gushed down her love dew, uttering cries of wild passion. "Enough!" she gasped at last. But Michele did not obey that anguished appeal. Like one possessed, her fingers gouged into Regina's cunny and bum hole, and her teeth nipped Regina's clitoris as if she wished to avenge herself on Regina for her own moral betrayal of Renee.
At first surprised by this ardor, Regina let herself be wooed, and began to arch and wriggle her bottom to permit even deeper penetration of her tingling orifices, uttering hoarse, maddened words. "Dear ohhhh darling what are you doing to me? Ahh, how good it is your tongue yes, yes, that way ooh, ahh, I'm dying I adore you ohh, Michele, you're killing me oh, take me, fuck me, screw me, bugger me, ohh all of me, I'm yours!"
Shaken by a final spasm, she fell back dazed and broken, the lips of her bum hole clamping and quaking against Michele's imbedded finger. Michele tasted some bliss as she felt Regina thus fulfilled, but her orgasm was not yet complete. She rubbed herself against Regina's naked body to make the actress comprehend her needs. Regina seized her then and began to frig her, kissing her neck, sucking her titties, and then, as her senses swirled, Michele forgot that Regina was holding her and, as her spasm came upon her quaking soft cunt, she cried out, "Renee, oh, my Renee, I love you!"
At first, believing she had misunderstood, Regina hadn't stopped, and, as Michele was furiously excited, the actress sought to draw her to a second gush of cream. When that occurred, Regina listened intently, and this time, she had no doubt of what she heard.
"Ohh," the maddened young girl exclaimed. "There, there, my Renee I adore you, I love you I'm ahh ohhh, I'm yours Renee my dearly beloved one!"
Michele had almost lost consciousness, so maddening had her pleasure been, thus blotting out all memory of where or with whom she was. And so she was astounded to see, as she opened her eyes, Regina's face above hers, pale, drawn, and to hear her friend cry out, "Liar! Liar! Coward, you betrayed me!"
Michele couldn't speak, not understanding, so dazed was she by the fury of her spendins, but Regina's voice grew more violent, more filled with hate. "So that's it, you're in love with Renee Dervien?"
"B-but who told you?" Michele stammered.
"You, you infamous traitress! You, who just cried out her name when you gave down your cream, you wicked slut! But it won't happen again. First, you're going to leave and never see me again. And as for your Renee, I'm going to give up her stupid play. I'll say I'm sick no, I'll do better than that! I'll play it clumsily, ruin its meaning, yes, that's what I'll do so, Madame Renee Dervien, you steal my sweetheart from me, do you ? We'll see who has the last laugh!" Clad only in a thin robe, Regina strode back and forth, face twisted, eyes blazing with fury. Michele turned very pale, and standing up, seized Regina round the waist, her face close to the actress', and cried out, "Oh, you wouldn't do that? It's not true!"
"You'll soon see, my little one! How proper and decent that bitch is, guessing that you were my sweetheart and trying to take you from me!"
"You're mad, Regina! I'm not Renee's mistress, I swear to you!"
"No, perhaps not yet, but you're dying to be! You bellow out her name in my arms when you come, and then you pretend you don't belong to her? No, no, nobody does that to me!"
Michele scarcely heard what Regina went on to say. All that haunted her were those first accusing words. For her fault, she saw herself punished, she who would give her life for Renee. She would be the cause of a great feud between Regina and Renee, and Renee would learn that she had still been to bed and girl-fucked with Regina. Oh, it was too much! So she fell on her knees before Regina, trying to calm her down, to beg her pardon, and, because she was beautiful in this abject pose of despair, Regina let her heart be softened. But her compassion didn't last long. She recalled the agonized ecstasy with which Michele had dared call out Renee's name in the midst of juicing-down and her anger renewed itself. Taking Michele by the waist, she flung her against the bed, her face buried in the sheets. Then, baring her bottom, she began to spank Michele's lovely, round plump cheeks which quaked with suffering each time her firm hand bit against the tender milky flesh.
Regina grew excited by this game and, wild with mingled lust and rage, seized the dildo which lay on the nearby table, and with a brusque movement dug it into Michele's tender asshole. Her victim uttered a loud cry of suffering and tried to escape, but Regina was stronger and this struggle unleashed all her powers while at the same time exasperating her. She maintained Michele over the edge of the bed and with a rhythmic movement, she thrust the dildo in and out of that tender bung.
Michele, torn between suffering and desire, no longer defended herself, and soon she was conquered by erotic fever, crying out, "Come, my Regina, I love you no, no, I don't betray you, I adore you ohh, Regina, you're killing me my lover, my darling, I'm your bed bitch, ohh yes!" Regina ecstatic over her conquest, writhed with joy and as she bit her victim's neck, and flung her down to the floor. Both women rolled over and over as Regina ground her moist, churning cunt against Michele's, the dildo still burrowed to the hilt in her narrow little ambery-rosy crevice, till they lay spent with spending, abandoned, in a drowsy lassitude, the aftermath of fervent girl-fucking.
And then they wept in each other's arms as Michele told all to her mistress. Regina, still roused by the thought that Michele loved her less and had been stolen from her, let herself be softened to the point of making concession. She would allow Michele to see Renee, begged her sweetheart not to leave her, and promised not to harm the author.
Tearfully, they parted, Michele greatly concerned over Regina's distress, and Regina in turn believing herself to be victimized a mood which only intensified her voluptuous excitement, perverse as she was. When, the next day at the theater, Regina faced Renee Dervien, she regarded her without anger and even with a kind of interest which was not far from being desire. But Renee adored Michele and knew only too well the real value of most artists' emotions to let herself be duped by them.
She behaved amiably, but no more, though somewhat surprised at Regina's exceptionally friendly manner, not, of course, being aware of the scene which had taken place the night before. She believed that Regina, abandoned at r last by Michele, wished to console herself with another conquest, and Renee smiled to think of her beloved Michele, mentally thanking the girl for keeping herself for her, Renee, alone. This time, intuition deceived Renee. If she had only known.
Now Regina profited from her victory over Michele by subjecting her to all sorts of caprices, and Michele, out of devotion to Renee, dared not protest and submitted without rebellion and often without pleasure. She even managed to pretend pleasure to lull Regina's suspicions, but Regina sensed that Michele would deceive her and was the more wary.
Besides, Michele had set a limit to her complaisance. She awaited the first performance of Renee's play and swore to herself to leave Regina as soon as the opening night was over, for then she would have nothing to fear for Renee and could openly avow her love for the beautiful young author.
Finally, the great night came. Renee had invited her to sit with her in a corner box. The first act began. Renee was feverish and expectant, so Michele took her hand and found it moist and warm. Renee, feeling this tender contact, was moved, and as the play went on and seemed to hold the attention of the audience, Renee leaned her head towards Michele, and their lips met. A murmur returned them to reality the audience acclaimed Regina, who had just entered.
From the very first phrases, the public was charmed and conquered, and Michele at last comprehended that Regina had duped her. No true actress would ever have sacrificed her success for a personal vendetta. She began to hate Regina, recalling the sinister threats Regina had uttered to her those last few days.
By the second act, success of the play was assured, and now Renee, calmer, thought only of her beloved Michele. She pressed her body against Michele's, felt the latter shiver with desire. They forgot themselves in their transport, and their hands began to wander. Boldly, Michele found a passageway through Renee's lace-trimmed drawers and began to frig her adored one very gently. Renee soon swooned with bliss, and in her turn sought to render back the same thrilling caress to Michele. Then, her head on the shoulder of her new, so much desired, beloved Renee, Michele came near fainting with her cunny-bliss as she heard the vibrant sound of Regina's voice which was bringing her beloved's play to triumph.
It was for Michele a supreme revenge to give herself for the first time to Renee, virtually in public, in the very presence of that cruel Regina who would die of rage if she only knew what was taking place in that discreetly curtained box beyond her. "I want all of you," Renee murmured to her as soon as sweet Michele had exhaled the sigh of fervent cunny-gush. "I want all of you, tonight, in bed, you lovely thing!"
"I'm yours to do with as you wish, dear Renee!"
"All night long?"
"All my life, if you wish it!"
"My darling, adored Michele!" And a long kiss sealed their oath of fidelity to their awaited union of girl-fucking. "Then," Renee at last resumed, "you'll stay here very quietly during the end of the play and await my return."
"Where are you going, darling?" Michele uneasily inquired.
"That's a secret." Renee left the box after a last kiss.
On the stage, the action went on. Regina was vibrant, magnificent, and the audience called out loud, excited "Bravos!" to signal her victory. The last act was a triumph, and they clamored for the author amidst thunderous applause. Michele turned and saw Renee, somewhat moved, standing at the back of the box.
"Oh, there you are at last, darling. Where were you?"
"That's my secret, but you'll know it soon."
"What a triumph for you!"
"So it seems!"
"Are you happy?"
"Yes -but more for the hours that will follow than for these!"
Michele, convinced by these lovely, sincere words, let herself be led to Renee's car without even going to congratulate Regina, whom she now doubly detested after having discovered Renee's delicacy. She wished to give her lovely author the complete gift of her body and her emotions, not such as she was now, but as she had been when first she had met Regina pure and virginal and a sadness haunted her anticipated joy when she realized that she was to offer her generous Renee a body that had been soiled by Regina's perverse girl-fucking and the other secret lusts which the actress had taught her.
The moment she entered the boudoir, Michele was astonished and delighted to see the lavish bouquets of flowers and their attractive arrangement. Her favorites, white lilies, and then scarlet and dark red pinks, gave the illusion of bloodstains against a white and golden field. In her eyes, they symbolized the love that was to hurl her, heart, soul and flesh, into Re-nee's waiting arms.
"You knew I'd come, then ? " she asked Renee, who smiled amusedly and responded, "I knew when you told me you would."
"And you came -"
"To arrange all this during the last act of my play, dear." Tears of gratitude glistened on Michele's long lashes at these tender words. So, disdaining all the glory of seeing her own creation come to triumph, Renee had left everything to hurry back to adorn her dwelling as a welcome for her humble little friend. What self-abnegation, what true love, as compared with the attentions of Regina!
After both had assumed a delicious deshabille, Michele, Renee's arm around her waist, followed her adored one to the studio. There, as in the boudoir, flowers were strewn and placed everywhere. Before the wide low divan, a table was prepared. Other little tables nearby provided cakes and wine. No one would disturb their amorous tete-a-tete.
Michele was aided to seat herself on the divan by Renee, and was enchanted by such warm tenderness. They ate and drank, then began to exchange sweet kisses. They drank out of the same wineglass. And then Renee clapped her hands.
"You applaud yourself?" Michele smiled. "Yes."
And before Renee could explain further, music began to play, as if coming from heaven, so gently and lovely was it, a prelude of harmonious yet intoxicating sounds. Before Michele could speak, Renee's lips sealed hers with a kiss, murmuring, "Shh listen, and let's make love."
She herself shoved the little tables behind screens, and, returning to Michele, pushed her onto her back with a lovely gesture and stretched out beside her, raising her torso and face over Michele's, speaking to her softly, the melodious music lulling them both in its caress.
"You see," Renee murmured, "you pleased me right away, dear little friend. The moment our eyes met, I was won to be yours. And my love isn't just desire of the flesh, but a love of heart and soul. I put into winning you all my poetry as a woman, all my holy ardor. I imagined myself to be that Philedonis who, remembering all Sappho's immortal poems, brought to Corinth the practice of pure Lesbian love, and you were, my Michele, the white, beautiful virgin I wished to win!"
Michele smiled, charmed and enchanted, as the music dizzied her mind with its haunting threnody. Their lips touched, their bodies quivered, but Renee did not yet wish to possess her friend. She had slipped down onto the thick rug, and there on her knees, she gathered up flowers and dropped them onto Michele's face, into her thick hair, and Michele trembled as the gentle touch of the blossoms caressed her throat, slipped down under the thin chemise she wore, rivuleted down her belly, her thighs, over her shivering bare hips. Their eyes shone, their swelling titties proclaimed their mounting excitement. The music, which grew gentler and gentler, tautened their nerves and whetted their carnal senses. Renee's dilated eyes spoke of seeking pleasures now far removed from poetic fantasies.
With hands that trembled from emotion, she drew off Michele's chemise, and gently, always to the sound of those unearthly violins from above, ran her tongue along Michele's quivering white thighs, thence to the silky-tufted love-center and then found the love button itself. Then she kissed it fervently. Now she made her tongue soft and thick and resumed titillating that nodule of pussy life so that soon Michele surrendered herself. Her plaints and cries, her shuddering, told Renee's conquest of her yearning cunthole.
Yet Michele desired with all her being that admirable beauty who seemed descended from heaven itself, so vastly did Renee differ from other women. In her turn, she therefore made her lie down and took hold of her, and with a kind of devotion she took Renee's clitoris between her own soft lips. She had a certain fear of seeing her friend vanish in a trice, like a dream, for she knew that dreams have no tomorrow. But Renee vibrated, yielded herself without inhibition. Her lovely thighs yawned, baring the little triangle of fawn-colored pussy-fleece. Michele, greedy for this long-awaited delicacy, ran her tongue over Renee's thighs and into her cunt hair, then brushed the dainty clitoral button to at last thrust her tongue deep into Renee's squirming cunt. Finally, she sucked that adorable little button which stiffened, tremored and grew moist in a convulsive jerking of all Renee's lovely, lithe nakedness. She was stretched out over Renee, her eyes fixing her friend's, lost in a world of enchanting delights. And her Renee spoke in a soft voice, as soft as the music that still cradled them into its reverie.
"I'm a poet, my Michele, and I guessed that you were so different from others. I discovered you and understood at once all the dreams you have in your heart and mind, and it hurt me to think that I might never be able to realize them, that I could never summon up all the finesse, all the poetry that delights your soul so much, in order to win you for myself."
Michele replied, in words that astonished even her. "Don't be sad, my beautiful Renee. For all my thoughts and dreams are in your eyes, and you satisfy my most fantastic yearnings. You've given me unforgettable hours, and I can die now, for I've known true happiness. I adore you. I will forever belong to you!"
"My dear one but I don't want you to leave me," was Renee's immediate response. "You shall be the inspiration of my thoughts, you'll aid me in my work. But I don't want you to go back to your horrible dressmaker's shop you'll stay with me, from this evening on, for always! You'll say yes, won't you?"
Michele hesitated.
"Won't you tire of me, my darling?"
"How little you know me, Michele! Those who tire of happiness are fools. I'm not a fool, but a poet and I adore you. My life would be finished without you, so decide if you wish my death!"
At this moment, a strident chord of the hidden violins above them surged through the air; it was like a cry in which a prayer was voiced, and Michele took it as a supernatural sign. She gave her lips to Renee's, and in a long kiss they sealed their pact.
She had forgotten Regina, those brutal caresses and violent orgasms. Now all her life belonged to Renee, to that delicious poet who had taken her heart and whom she loved as one loves the gods on high. But the invisible musicians now played an exquisite lullaby. Their bodies were nude, commingled, their very flesh united. Like cats without claws, they rubbed together, seeking to move their bodies to the rhythm of that music which enervated them. Their love buttons grazed together, and their sighs mingled with the music of the violins, and then came a cry, "Oh my Michele, I love you!" to which responded, "Renee, I'm yours for life!"
Night's stars were extinguished on scenes of indescribable voluptuousness, while the music played on, now gentle, now savage, now languorous by turns, but always passionate and exciting, like the writhing of those delicious naked girls who proclaimed their eternal love by the furious acquiescence of palpitating flesh!
Michele felt she had to keep her pact with Renee, for that oath had been sworn not in a moment of passion, but of their mutual accord, in all sincerity and love.
So, the very next day, Michele, who was of age, told her family that since she had been given a post as secretary to a professional woman writer, she would leave the dress shop. But, she added, since this writer lived alone, the latter had demanded that Michele live with her. The parents made a few protests, but, since their daughter was quite stubborn, at last yielded.
That same evening, Renee was told the news. A week later, Michele moved in, and Paris could list in its census yet another household of Lesbian lovers.
Michele hadn't seen Regina, who had not really suffered too much at their separation the first few days, so absorbed had she been by her new dramatic part and her public triumph. But as soon as she was used to that acclaim, she felt her thoughts take flight towards the unfaithful Michele, who had left her despite all her attempts to hold her. So she wrote her a rather tender letter, saying that she would expect her that same evening or the next evening after the performance. And here is the reply she received:
Regina:
"Our love is finished. When I came to you, trembling in my humility and so tenderly yearning for you, I had endowed you with the halo of all the idealism that filled my soul, and you could have made of me the most faithful of love-slaves.
"You didn't know how to hold my heart, and you wearied my body with pleasures far too violent, in which my soul did not call out in a cry of true love. To summarize, we tried each other with too much sensuality and impersonal lust, and our hearts were far apart each time. I preferred to leave you rather than endure the heartbreaking boredom that would take place at our love trysts, so I leave you as a very sincere friend who will remain faithful to you and whom you may see without rancor and perhaps still with some affection.
"You didn't know how to keep me, but don't be angry with yourself, and do be happy, which is my dearest wish -
Michele."
Regina read this letter over several times to grasp its inner meaning, and when at last she understood that Michele had left her forever, she had a fit of hysterical weeping and perhaps for the first time comprehended how truly she had loved this Michele who was now so pitiless towards her. But she was too proud to demand an interview or write a letter of supplication for another chance. One day, however, some time after receiving that letter, she went to the Doucet shop though she had no need and asked for Michele. What was her stupefaction to learn that Michele no longer worked there and had left the shop for good.
She was too proud to ask for news of Michele's whereabouts, but went back home, heart burdened by jealousy, and wept till it was nearly time to go to the theater. When she arrived, she found her author Renee Dervien waiting for her, to discuss a cut in some of the line which hadn't been made though it had been previously agreed upon. Renee was ravishing that evening, perhaps beautiful by the love now presiding in her life, a love about which Regina had not yet had the news. But Regina was not at her best. From the chagrin and jealousy that had dominated her these last few days, her eyes were lusterless and hallowed, her face stained by tears. "Excuse me," she said to Renee. "I'm late."
"I'll wait in the wings, and we can talk between acts," Renee suggested.
"No, no, you can stay here in my dressing room, it doesn't bother me."
"Very well."
For a few moments they discussed the change of scene, during which time Regina put on her makeup and dressed, aided by a maid. "Imbecile!" she suddenly burst out, to reprove the maid's clumsiness at one point. "You're stupid, my poor girl!"
While the wardrobe maid, humiliated but docile, bent her head and hastened to finish, Regina smilingly said to Renee, "With all this, you can imagine how nervous I am this evening!"
"Indeed, you seem agitated," Renee returned.
"I have much sorrow," Regina affirmed. But as Renee wasn't intimate enough with the actress to ask for confidences, she continued herself with a woman's sympathy saying, "My poor friend!"
"Yes," Regina continued, encouraged by this sincere compassion. "I suffer a good deal. You've been aware, haven't you, of my friendship with young Michele B --? "
Renee had not expected to have this name cast at her so unexpectedly. "Yes, yes," she murmured, troubled. But Regina, absorbed only in her own thoughts, hadn't noticed the significant start of the lovely young author, and went on. "Yes, it's true, perhaps you even know her. Well, my dear Michele has left me, and I, Regina, am ridiculously pained by that break-off. Yes, yes, many have adulated and made a fuss over me, I've enjoyed some of the loveliest women in Paris, and yet a little shop-worker, a nothing, a nonentity, believe me, leaves me yet I weep." She said those last words almost with a sob and then she stayed at the mirror, aware she must redo her makeup.
Renee was greatly disturbed by this revelation, and profited by Regina's concern with her makeup to take her leave. Regina called to her, "Soon," just as a director hurried up to call, "On stage, please!"
Since Regina was on almost at the start of the act, she hurried out, while Renee was "caught" along the corridor by an actress who, under some useless pretext or other, kept her chatting there for nearly a quarter of an hour. She inwardly cursed the girl, for she wanted to take Michele away or at least hide her, to avoid Regina's seeing her, so much had Regina's sincerity and grief upset her.
Michele had wanted to see her friend's play and, as all was ready, had chosen a place to watch it from that was quite visible to all. She had no hesitation about this, not believing that Regina was really worried over their parting. So she was surprised to see Regina's gaze fix on her almost from the very moment the beautiful actress came on stage, and that gaze conveyed such distress that Michele was disturbed, but she was drawn from her thoughts by the appearance of Renee. She made a furtive gesture for Renee to come beside her, but, to her great surprise, Renee remained standing at the back without moving, a finger posed to her lips. Then Michele, intrigued went towards her, and Renee, without a lie for she had no skill at hiding the truth told Michele of the scene between her and Regina in the latter's dressing room.
Moved despite herself, Michele said, "Since you didn't want to be beside me this evening, that is very well. It's useless to cause her pain from our happiness, for it would be fatal for us. Let's leave."
"I can't right away," Renee at once replied. "I promised to go back to her room at the next intermission. Besides, since she's seen you, if I didn't go, she'd understand. No, I'm going to see her and then we can leave. Go forward now, while I stay here at the back." And Michele obeyed.
Regina saw her with emotion, for Michele's quick disappearance into the shadows had worried her, and she was astounded to see Michele come back alone to her place. Believing that the young girl had come only to see her, she experienced a moment of intense joy that dispersed the unhappy hours she had endured, and, in a smile addressed to Michele alone, spoke of all her tenacious love and gratitude. Michele was too much of a woman not to understand this mute scene, and her heart was chilled.
But Regina, misunderstanding the reason for Michele's visible distress was very happy. Her behavior on stage attained perfection as she sought to seduce the girl all over again. Thunderous applause rewarded her from the audience. Everyone cheered the dramatic artistry she had displayed to one alone. Triumphantly, she came forward three times to bow to that applause, each time her eyes passionately fixed on Michele, who dared not to move.
Renee had witnessed that mute, eloquent scene from the shadows of the wings, and she was a little pale when Michele, after the curtain had fallen for the last time, came to her and pressed against her, seeking reassurance. Poor Michele felt that her Renee was perhaps a little jealous of that passion which still existed on Regina's part, and so she murmured lovingly, "Dear friend, I love you."
Without a word, Renee drew her towards the little room off the wings, and, without turning on the lights, took Michele in her arms and kissed her on the mouth with all her soul in that kiss. Enervated by what had just taken place, Michele was suddenly taken by a mad desire. She forced Renee to sit on the divan, lifted her evening gown, and then, kneeling, put her mouth to Renee's pussy and applied so long a kiss to Renee's quivering clitoris that Renee almost at once writhed and gushed down her pussy dew.
"You're mad, my love," Renee murmured as she rearranged her clothes.
"Yes, darling, mad for you!" And their mouths again met in a torrid kiss.
"This isn't reasonable," Renee scolded as she broke away. "They're calling the next act, and we must wait for the intermission before leaving."
"Well, we'll stay here, that's all!" And Michele returned to the wings, where Regina again spied her the moment she came on stage, a little surprised not to see Michele in a seat in front. She interpreted this as proof that Michele was ashamed of her conduct and wanted to make amends. So she again sought to tempt her faithless sweetheart, putting all the temptation of which she was capable into her acting, together with boldly languorous and compelling looks, to the point that Michele felt a shiver of weakness.
At last the curtain fell on the second act, and this time Renee was going to leave the wing when the door opened and the director, told of the author's presence, hurried up to kiss Renee's hand. Renee was therefore compelled to present Michele to him, and the three began to chat till the traditional three knocks on stage which signalled the start of the final act. The director withdrew and Renee, a little annoyed, whispered, "Now we'll have to stay till it's over!"
"Bah," Michele retorted smilingly, "that's a small misfortune. I love your wit and poetry, my love, when I listen to your play."
"Yes," Renee said with a moue," but I'm in penitence."
"Oh, what difference does it make? If my body leaves you, my dear, my heart remains beside yours."
Renee answered by kissing Michele's adored mouth, and each took her respective place. Regina was not then on stage, and did not come out till nearly the middle of the act. When she appeared for her last scene, she was extremely animate. She cast a terrible look at Michele, a look in which hatred, suffering and jealousy were mingled. Michele, though greatly disturbed, did not understand this new attitude and, despite herself, cast down her eyes so as not to endure that reproachful look again.
Regina was playing now a scene of jealousy towards an infamous lover. She put marvelous conviction into it as well as emotion, seeming to weep real tears. She surpassed herself, and the audience went wild. The curtain fell on a standing ovation, and Michele herself, carried away by that magnificent artistry, did not hold back her own cries of "Bravo!" But Regina cast at her such a hateful look that she remained stunned, her hands immobilized, mute with astonishment.
Renee's voice drew her from her stupor. "Regina has surpassed even herself."
"Indeed she has," Michele agreed, no less sincerely.
Had Renee been less noble of feeling and thought, had she been more deft in the sorcery of Lesbian love, she would have been worried by Michele's tone. But her artistic, pure soul could not credence that Michele was capable of emotion enough to return to a past of which she should have been forever cured.
"I'll go wait for you in the car," Michele said.
"Fine, and excuse me, my love, I shan't be long."
"Yes, go, go." Michele fought against the thought that now surged through her. She would have given much to be in Renee's place and go to Regina's dressing room.
Renee knocked discreetly at the door of Regina's dressing room, and was at once bidden to enter. No sooner had she crossed the threshold than she was welcomed by a "You! At last there you are!"
This tone somewhat astonished her, but Regina had just come from such a magnificent dramatic success that the author felt she must be indulgent, and ascribed Regina's tempestuous outburst to the emotions undoubtedly roused by such dramatic acting. But she was disabused of this notion instantly when the actress said curtly to the maid, "Leave us!"
When the maid had left, Regina turned to key in the lock and came nervously back towards Renee. Facing her, the actress cried out spitefully, her face twisted with hate. "Ah, you really know how to hide yourself! Congratulations ! "
"I don't understand you," Renee uneasily murmured.
"Yes," Regina taunted, "and you go on dissimulating, don't you. You've taken my mistress from me."
Renee calmed herself with an effort. "I didn't take her from you. She voluntarily gave herself to my love."
"What are you saying? That Michele doesn't love me any more? Go on with you! But she will never love you or anyone else as she adored me! You'll never have from her the caresses I had. Michele is seduced by a mirage, but she doesn't love you. She will never love you!"
Disregarding the anger and suffering of the actress, wounded in her own feelings, Renee forgot her composure and, her face inches from Regina's exclaimed: "Don't you believe that, you horrible creature! Michele loved you only physically. She loves me with her heart. Her senses were overcome by you, but she never, never, truly loved you!"
Furious at this defiance, Regina seized Renee's wrists and hissed, "Be still! Be still! My Michele belonged to me first. I had everything from her. She was my adored virgin and you'll have only my leavings!"
"You infamous bitch," Renee cried.
"Oh, yes, that disillusions you, doesn't it, my fine lady? You can't deny it. You see that Michele can't forget me. Enjoy her while you can for you won't keep her long!"
"We shall see," Renee panted, freeing herself from Regina's grip.
"Yes, yes," Regina mocked. "We'll see and very soon now."
Renee, better educated than Regina, did not wish to continue this regrettable and ridiculous scene. She went, slowly and with dignity, to open the door of the dressing room and just as she was about to leave without another word, Re-igna called after her, "Goodbye, dear author! I'll arrange my scene with the director. Forget the way to my dressing room and say a prayer for your next play. We've just played a scene, but don't count on me as your interpreter if you set our argument on the stage!"
Renee did not answer. Heart thudding agitatedly, she hurried to the car where Michele awaited her. They didn't speak. Renee abhorred the idea of telling Michele what had just occurred, and besides, though she didn't want to admit it to herself, she was a little put out to learn that Michele had made so complete a gift of herself to Regina.
And from her own viewpoint, Michele too was greatly disturbed by the night's events. An evil demon haunted her. She had been infatuated all over again by Regina's amorous look, to the point where she forgot it was the mind of Renee who had created the scene in which Regina triumphed. Regina was like a phonograph record which flawlessly repeated what had been said into her but Michele was too emotional overwrought to think this out for herself. And perhaps she would have even succumbed to Regina had she been able to see the crisis of tears which seized the actress the moment Renee had left the dressing room, to hear the way Regina uttered her name as, flinging herself down on her couch, she bit her pillow and called aloud for her departed lover.
The two friends supped, then silently went to bed, each pretending physical fatigue, and for the first time they went right to sleep or pretended to do so after a brief kiss . . . the breath of discord, the wind of remembrance, had just broken a fiber of their hearts.
The days following this memorable evening were sad and monotonous. Renee and Michele played at the comedy of love. Doubtless, they still loved each other, but they did not desire each other with all their flesh. Renee had learned from her director that it had been he himself who, unaware of his tactlessness, had revealed to Regina her presence in the wing occupied by Michele, and that during that portion of the final act in which Regina had been offstage.
So, on this particular evening, to distract Michele from her troubled thoughts, Renee had taken her to the woods of Viroflay where spring cast its regal mantle of green verdure everywhere. They walked, picked flowers, luxuriated under the sun, gradually forgetting their unhappy hours. To the middle of a flowery knoll, deserted and at this time of year rarely visited, they found their wray, and there clung to each other, seeking to renew their dream of the ideal which had united them.
Night was falling. A bird chirped a call to an eager mate high above them, and the mate responded. There was hardly any other sound, not even the stirring of the leaves. The sun had dried those which had fallen to earth, making a thick carpet on which to sit. The red glow of the setting sun peeped through the sentinel-like trees, and grew darker, more varicolored, as in a fairyland. Renee, intoxicated by the magnificence of nature, turned Michele onto her back, and, slipping an arm under her waist, pressed her tightly to her body. Her other hand slipped under Michele's skirt and began to tickle her friend's pussy, the while staring deeply in Michele's eyes.
Michele gave herself up to the same sweet game, since nature has no preference for the sexes, and always protects love that seeks its retreats. So the two lovely young Lesbians gave each other pleasure, their love juice given down at the same time, their voluptuous cries stifled by a communal kiss, whetting themselves by uttering tender, poetic words, not wishing to degrade the classic beauty of their gestures with overly prosaic or vulgar words. From afar, an orchestra could be heard, taking up a languorous waltz.
The birds twittered from tree to tree. Night covered the bodies of these two human lovers with a veil of mystery and gave the countryside the aura of an ancient field of passion akin to those on which the sisters of Bilitis and Sappho gave themselves up to love without concern for the laws established by feckless men.
The days after that amorous reunion were delicious, and for a time the two lovers could believe that the past was truly dead and the future belonged to them with all its unblemished glory.
But what had become of Regina since her violent scene with Renee? She had wept, conceived ideas of vengeance. Then she had regained composure, and her heart urged her to be indulgent, to pardon and to forget. She was tempted to write to Michele, but gave up the idea lest the letter fall into other hands.
But one day the need to see Michele grew so imperious that she determined to approach her departed friend, even if it meant extending her hand to Renee in forgiveness.
Yet she hesitated to inflict on herself what must surely be a humiliation. Still, her desire for Michele bore away her pride, and she awaited the first occasion to make a tentative reunion with her coveted young sweetheart.
It was an afternoon when a play by another author, succeeding Renee's, was being put on, that Regina was able to make this first attempt. Renee, a great friend of this other author, had consented to have her play substituted, since the author had fallen unexpectedly ill. During a short intermission, Regina asked Renee for a few moments' interview, and they walked out of the wings to a deserted corridor. There Regina told her, "I intended, at our first new meeting, to make my apologies to you for my disgraceful scene of the other evening and beg you to forget my bad mood though you will admit it was somewhat justified."
Renee held out her hand in spontaneous gesture. "But I'll forget it with pleasure," she declared. They shook hands with sincerity, and spoke of other things. The author's illness was prolonged, however, and Renee continued to come to replace her with her own work. One day, Regina dared to ask Renee to have tea with her after the performance, After a slight hesitation, Renee accepted and the two women were comfortably installed in a private booth in a nearby tearoom. At first, their conversation was banal, then Regina avowed that she was in love with an artist among her friends.
And finally she led the conversation so cleverly that she got Renee to agree to bring Michele to a rehearsal, to sign an amicable peace pact which the young girl had requested in that letter of break off she had penned to Regina. When they parted, they were torn by differing emotions.
Regina exulted triumphantly, repeating to herself, "I'm going to see Michele again, speak to her again and soon she'll be mine again!"
Renee's thoughts were less joyous, however. She asked herself if she was not playing with fire in yielding to Regina's request. She was sad, yet she dared not show her fear. Finally, that very evening, she told Michele what she had agreed to, and, seeing Michele remain quite calm, took her lovingly into her arms. Michele let herself be caressed, then Renee gently undressed her like a tender lover. And when Michele was Eve-naked, she didn't want the girl to put on the thin chemise she usually wore to cover her adorable charms, but lingered in contemplating the exciting nudity, kissing her titties and belly and pussy, the insides of Michele's thighs, the soft inner curves of those plump bottom-cheeks. Michele soon quivered, nearly swooning, in her arms and ardently panted, "Oh, Renee, take me, take me!"
Renee carried her darling to bed where, installing her along the edge with her head posed on two cushions, she knelt down and gamahuched her. Finally, feeling the pussy slit readily offered to her greedy tongue, she stiffened it and began to fuck her friend with it as if her tongue were a prick.
"What are you doing to me?" breathed Michele. "Ohh, how good it is, my love!"
Renee, to heighten her mistress' pleasure, had put her forefinger on the pink tidbit of Michele's clitoris and was frigging it while she continued to tongue-fuck that quaking, soft pussy.
"It's too much! Ohh, my darling my dearest, I adore you oooh, it's so good ohh, I'm coming, I love you I'm ohh ohh ahhhh!"
Renee felt that lovely, naked body vibrate and writhe in her arms and, like a man, thrust two of her fingers into Michele's distended cunthole and, wrapping her other arm round her waist, began to finger-fuck her forcibly, her eyes devouring the dilated, glazed eyes of her beautiful, young partner. Under so vigorous a wooing, which recalled to Michele Regina's own ardent technique, Michele began to arch and weave her hips, yearning for a second gush of loved ew. Renee tasted this moment as an artist might. She analyzed her sensations. This white, soft lovely body which writhed and squirmed in a rhythmic movement, those eyes drowning with voluptuous pleasure, that mouth so gluttonous for kisses that it could bite, all that being whom she adored and who swooned on a cry of erotic fulfillment! This so excited her that at the moment that Michele cried out, "My Renee, I'm all yours! Ohh, take my cunny-juice take my life fuck me out, ohh, my lover, my darling, I ohh ahh -, " Renee herself tasted a shuddering orgasmic spasm but it was one that her mind has conjured up, not her flesh.
If they could have seen at that same moment Regina studying a portrait of Michele, calling her by all the dear names of their past fuck-union, they would have been roused by very different sentiments. Michele would have been happy to know herself still loved, not having yet though she would in good faith deny this forgotten the kisses of Regina, more ardent more perversely passionate than Renee's.
And Renee would have shuddered and regretted the concession she had made Regina, shuddered with fear and jealousy, truly suffered. But all three of them, did not, could not, know that by a kind of destiny, they experienced a seething orgasmic come at almost the same moment, but in different ways.
The two friends had arrived ahead of Regina at the theater. As soon as she came on the stage, Regina recognized Michele despite the poor lighting used for rehearsals. She had to lean against one of the pieces on the set, so great was her emotion, a kind of cold sweat beading her temples, and became very pale. She wanted to cover Michele with kisses, take her off anywhere, yes fuck her then and there in front of everyone and then die ah, yes, she loved her so!
But she knew that if she wished to attain her goal, she must hide her anguish, and so with an effort, she walked toward them both with a smile on her lips.
Michele too had paled when she saw Regina, but she also saw Renee's wide, anguished eyes fixed on her in a kind of mute prayer. So she smiled quite naturally at Regina, not wishing to pain Renee, which reassured the latter.
Michele left the theater haunted with Regina's image, and when she saw Regina look longingly and sadly at her just before departing, she recalled that tenderness with a little remorse and decided to escape the temptation. But when evening came, she had so suppressed her emotions that she was on edge. And so, as soon as they were in bed, Michele, contrary to her habit, turned off the light to have complete darkness, and, flinging herself in a fury over the startled
Renee, began to kiss her violently. Then, having begun a gentle gamahuching, she plunged a forefinger into Renee's cunny and the other into Renee's dainty bum hole, and began a cunning in and out maneuver with them both without halting the work of her artful tongue.
It was the first time poetic Renee had felt herself thus probed by Michele, and she was enchanted by this new ardor, not suspecting that Michele was under the psychic domination of Regina and that in turning out the light her only aim was to create the illusion that she was giving Regina pleasure.
Renee, quickly brought to hot come by these unusual embraces, gave down her love cream murmuring gentle, soft phrases, wildly amorous words . . . But Michele didn't hear her; for her, now, it was Regina's body she was possessing, the past was being revived!
With a swift gesture and before Renee could realize what she was doing, Michele seized a candle, turned Renee over, and, having anointed the candle with vaseline, slowly burrowed it into Renee's bum hole. Renee uttered a cry of revolt and tried to escape, but Michele, in whom erotic fever was unleashing its full power, maintained her and continued to work the candle into that tender orifice. Soon Renee was enervated by this new sensation. She even tried to dilate her bum hole, arching out her bottom to facilitate the penetration, and Michele, feeling her excitement rise, thrust deeply into her and babbled wild words. "I'm buggering you, you darling, my sweet lover! My prick is going into you and hurting, but what does it matter ? Your blood will soon mingle with our love cream and you'll spend wonderfully, my darling!"
These unusual words excited Renee, who still arched and weaved her bottom and in turn murmured, "Yes, yes, it's delicious ohh, ohhh, how long it is I think I'm dying oh no, not so hard you're reaming me out ohh, yes, like that ohh, my darling, it feels as if it's all in me all of you in me there, dearest ohh, ohh I'm coming oh yes, yes Michele, Michele, oh no, enough, you're killing me ahhhhh!"
And a profound silence fell on this darkened room.
Michele was dreaming of Regina who had, by imaginative proxy, taken Renee's place, and Renee, restored from her delirium, thought of the avowals Michele had made the first days of their liaison. She feared that Regina's violent caresses might have festered the soul of her little friend, and she wept gently, without daring to move.
Michele grew uneasy over Renee's silence now. Gently, she stroked her cheeks, and suddenly felt warm tears. She felt a swift repentance, and kissed her friend, soothing her with tender words seeking forgiveness for her brutality. Then, to calm the physical anguish which that artificial cock she had improvised had given Renee, she began to lick Renee's swollen ass-hole delicately with her soft tongue.
This gentleness calmed Renee's pain, and as Michele now moved her tongue to Renee's clitoris, the latter began to desire with all her flesh a new girl gush, and, excitedly, she soon spent, less violently this time, but with all her mind and heart.
And as Michele moved towards her and whispered, "Why do you cry?" Renee sighed, "You know very well why."
Michele did not protest. She understood, and despite all her tender efforts to soothe Renee, she could not drive away the ghost of Regina, who had thus victoriously presided over this room of conquest and near-brutality. Then Renee turned on the light, and Michele, seeing her, hid her face in her hands and sobbed. And poor Renee, her heart agonized, took her dear one into her arms and murmured, "My poor little one, we're lost!"
Only Michele's tears answered her, for Michele could not protest.
Their life became lamentable after that night. Renee began to spy on Michele, who was as if possessed by the image of Regina, though she did not yet have courage enough to go see her. But since Regina heard no more of Michele, she asked Renee for news, and Renee, very quietly, told her that Michele was occupied.
Regina went to her dressing room to put on more powder and led Renee along with her. Anguish made her even lovelier and, without knowing the reason for her pallor, Regina, who adored pale complexions, stealthily admired her. For after having first detested the woman who had taken Michele from her, she had come to a keen interest in her and had more than once experienced a wild desire to kiss and embrace her. And on this particular occasion, she was especially incited to do just that. Quickly yielding to impulse, she went to Renee and kissed her on the mouth.
Renee had no time to struggle. For this ardent woman who put an arm round her waist, whose perfume intoxicated her, stirred her enough to lose her wits, and she did not protest when her lips felt that kiss. Instead, her own mouth responded to Regina's, and both slid down on the wide sofa of the dressing room, not caring if the door was locked or not, and like two furies, tightly clinging to each other, they frigged each other's cunnybutton, uttering furious cries, biting each other's lips, devouring each other with hungry eyes, without a word, till at last Regina panted, "I want your body! I was betrayed, but it's you I really love! My Renee, it's you!"
Renee, maddened by this woman's ardor, won over by this furious lust, accepted a rendezvous for the same evening at Regina's place. They parted at last with a violent kiss, and Renee went back to Michele, her senses aflame. She told her she had to dine with friends, spend the evening at the theater and then have a late supper, would return very late and timidly proposed that Michele come with her. But Michele was almost happy over this freedom, and she urged Renee not to miss the evening on her account. Renee, having chosen her gown and lingerie with great care, went to Regina, dining with her and spending the evening in her dressing room chatting like two typical Parisians.
They took a car to Regina's hotel, where they drank two glasses of champagne, and quickly striped naked and, hand in hand, walked to the bed. Regina admired Renee's lovely body. She kissed her all over with a kind of devotion, gliding her expert hand over Renee's soft skin, which made the author shiver with desire. Then Regina began to suck Renee's two lovely tittie-buds, rubbing her stiffened tongue over them, and finally, reversing herself, lowered her cunt to Renee's face after putting a pillow under Renee's head. Renee sucked Regina's cunnybutton greedily, excited by Regina's words, "I'm fucking you in the mouth, darling, see?'
Her body arched and sank as if actually she were a male thrusting a cock into that lovely mouth. "Yes, I'm fucking your mouth, sweetheart, my balls, my everything will go in, till I spurt out my spunk down your sweet throat! There, you bitch, do you feel my prick, stiffened, ready to burst? Suck it nicely now, it tastes lovely, doesn't it? Ahh, darling, ohh, take all my spunk in your throat, I love you there drink it all!"
With frantic wrigglings, Regina spent into Renee's mouth, and now the actress began to suck Renee off in her turn. Soon the author swooned, excited by this position, one of the most divine in Sapphic love. After a short respite, they savored a lovely soixante-neuf which made them gush in communal come, and soon Regina strapped on the dildo which had probed Michele's pussy and left such unforgettable memories in that darling quim. Impaled, Renee, now mad with lust, arched and wriggled her loins wildly, swooning in Regina's arms, almost forgetting Michele's existence.
And when she left Regina, shattered by those violent passions, she no longer thought or knew anything save what her flesh had so clamorously endured. She was startled to find that Michele had not come back home, though it was six in the morning. Reason returned to her. She cursed her own treachery, asking where her Michele might be, and so it was in tears that Michele found her when she returned an hour later.
After Renee had left, Michele, in no way suspecting where Renee was going, was tempted to go see her former lover, but she didn't dare go there without calling her first, perhaps warned by some indefinable presentiment. So she dined alone, then went out. She went to the Gymnase Theater, took a seat and relaxed, hoping to be distracted. They were playing Henry Bataille's "The Foolish Virgin," a work that titillated nervous minds like hers. Though she knew the work well and after a rather commonplace first act, she began to get interested. Berthe Bady, the actress in the lead, enervated her with cruel words and passionate gestures, making her feel as if a red hot iron were grazing her quivering body.
The theater was dark. Michele suddenly felt a light pressure of her hand. The skin which rubbed hers was soft and , she guessed, that of a woman. She didn't protest, but slowly she turned towards her unknown neighbor, and her eyes met two lovely dark blue eyes, two eloquent, compelling eyes amorously fixed on her, and a mouth that smiled and encouraged. Too absorbed by her state of mind, she hadn't noticed who was sitting around her, so she was charmed to see the lovely woman staring at her so passionately. She felt herself less alone, with the feeling that someone was here to console her for the disappointment of being forsaken by Renee, and joy grew in her. The second act ended, Bady came out to bow several times. Her neighbor's hand had stopped its soft pressure, and light flooded the theater.
The two young women began to talk as if they had known each other some little time. They exchanged their views on the play. Suddenly, the young unknown spoke to a man to her right, and said amiably to Michele, "My husband."
Michele made a little grimace, but inclined her head pleasantly, and the young woman asked, "Would you like to take a walk?" Her new companion, who said her name was Hen-riette, accompanied her to a deserted corner of the lobby. There she said to Michele, "I was drawn to you by an unknown force and I find you utterly ravishing." Michele stammered, "But what about your husband?"
Henriette then smiling explained, "My husband is simply a friend, a kind of moral associate, or rather, immoral. He's an invert, and since the day we mutually revealed our respective tastes, we decided to live side by side, like good friends, telling each other our adventures, facilitating them if possible, even on occasion lending each other lovers."
The bell ending the intermission brought them back to their seats, and during the entire act Henriette kept hold of Michele's hand, even amorously rubbing her leg against Michele's. By communal accord, after the third act, they decided to leave the theater. The husband dutifully went along, Henriette telling Michele they meant to find a certain Harry de P-, the husband's friend, who was awaiting them in a cafe.
In the car that took them to the cafe, Henriette sat next to Michele, ignoring her husband, and kissed Michele on the mouth. Delighted by this piquant new adventure, Michele returned the kiss. By the twentieth such exchange, the car stopped before the cafe where they found Harry de P--. They presented themselves and soon were seated at a table awaiting a delicious after-theater supper. During the meal, it was decided that Michele would go to their place, and Michele, more and more intrigued, consented. They entered, all four, in a charming little house on the Avenue du Bois, and while the two men remained in the salon, Henriette led Michele to her boudoir.
They soon undressed down to lingerie and began to kiss. A little later, two discreet knocks at the door interrupted their preliminary caresses. "It's my husband," Henriette gaily exclaimed. "We needn't disturb ourselves, though." And, without releasing Michele, she called, "Come in." Indeed it was her husband, in an elegant dressing gown of silk, a smile on his lips, followed by his friend in the same attire.
They sat down opposite the two women and smoked, talked, and exchanged kisses, paying Michele and Henriette no heed. Soon, their desires whetted, they began their amorous conclave. Henriette began to kiss Michele's pussy while her husband sucked his friend Harry's cock. Michele saw that massive ramrod and suddenly she, who had never felt such a true object between her shivering thighs, felt a mad desire to be fucked. Henriette, with a soft giggle, murmured, "Oh, yes," with a panting whisper.
Henriette made a sign, and Harry at once got in position. Michele was placed in a position to make love the lazy way, and she was fucked by this strong hard prick while Henriette sucked her clitoris; but Henriette's husband displaced himself so as to be behind his wife whom he buggered, and soon all four uttered cries of joy as they ecstatically spent.
Michele was startled by this new experience. She asked herself if it was the cock or the tongue which made her enjoy so furiously, but she felt quite happy to feel hot spunk fill her twitching cunny, and her desire was not yet assuaged.
Henriette understood this when she returned from the bathroom after douching and perfuming herself. She posed her cunny over Michele's mouth as she knelt facing her, and when Michele gamahuached her new friend, she saw a prick probing her friend's bottom hole and felt the man's balls graze her chin. The sight of that handsome, stiff, throbbing prick, disappearing slowly into Henriette's quaking bottom, put her into a frenzied state of passion, and she tasted ecstatic come as she felt that someone was gamahuching her too. A man's moustache rubbed her pussylips to create even more intense delight, and soon all four again spent profusely.
But Michele jerked her belly back and forth, wildly roused by this multiplicity of loving, and one of the men lifted her and, with great strength, fucked her standing as he transfixed her with his sturdy prong. As Michele was about to spend, she suddenly felt her buttocks being parted and a hard, hot ramrod probing for her dainty bung. Both men were impaling her at the same time. At first, she cried out with pain, but her gaze was hypnotized by the sight of Henriette frigging herself as she stood to one side, which excited Michele supremely, and soon she herself arched and squirmed, seeking to yawn both cunny and bum hole to her male suitors, writhing in their arms, groaning with pleasure as she felt hot jets of spunk flood both her quaking orifices.
She was stretched out on the rugs of tiger and lion skins, drinking champagne. She felt a sort of painful heat in her asshole; she felt herself torn. Henriette tenderly caressed her and began to lick the wounded cleft, while one of the men licked her cunt and the other her tittie buds. She felt herself cauterized by these healing tongues, and, even, excited by them, spent again, uttering sighs of bliss.
After this final orgasm, she felt herself shattered and was content to watch what followed.
Henriette's husband buggered his friend Harry, whose prick stiffened. Henriette, eyes ablaze, began to suck that prick with all her ardor, while frigging her own soft cunny. Soon all three were brought to pitch, rolling onto the animal skins, kissing, slithering their tongues together, in a kind of savage beauty, so that Michele, despite her fatigue, longed to suck one of those two superb cocks which had probed her. Did they comprehend her desire? Evidently, since after a restful pause, Harry returned to Michele and put his cock into her mouth. Michele grasped it, stroking the base of that virile prong with her long, beautiful, soft hands. But the hours had fled and now, after tasting Harry's furious spunk in her sweet mouth, Michele began to worry about Renee. The new friends promised to bring her back for an entire afternoon, and then took her back home. But it was nearly seven in the morning, and she was bewildered when she saw Renee in tears. Then candidly, she told Renee what she had done.
In her turn, Renee related her night with Regina, and Michele, infuriated, rushed at Renee, who sat immobile, perhaps even yearning for a blow that would finish their affair. But Michele stopped and, with a sob, as if wishing to wash away their communal pollution, flung herself on Renee in a mad desire of tender, pure love, and their kiss was almost chaste, it was so gentle. And that was their expiation.
In vain Regina awaited Renee, and, similarly, Michele's new friend did not see her again. For Renee and Michele, who had wept in each other's arms after that crisis of erotic folly, loved each other in spite of all, and so they resolved to travel for a time to escape their fatal magnet, which attracted them both: Regina.
They worked out a program, swearing to follow it faithfully. It consisted of living for some time very chastely, having separate rooms, and thus augmenting, by abstinence, the calm and spiritual peace so vital to their welfare. For two weeks they kept that program, but they had fallen in love with each other again, and abstinence became a burden to them.
Neither wished to admit this to the other, so afraid each was of violating their agreement. They were in Naples on a magnificent evening. They had parted, like every previous night with a friendly kiss and slipped into their separate beds and were lying there for nearly half an hour when by a kind of telepathy they felt the need to come together and each met the other halfway. They were soon stretched out together, their bodies close, but hesitating to make love, for disgust of the past still haunted them.
At first, they touched each other chastely, kissing each other's eyes, mouths, gently touching each other's naked bodies, sucking each other's nipples tenderly, but soon these caresses tautened their nerves and in communal accord they took the pose of soixante-neuf, applying their soft tongues to each other's cunnies. They performed this sweet ritual with delicacy, and their orgasm was gentle and blissful. But it was Michele who first felt the little shiver of voluptuousness surge through all her body, and the fitful wrigglings of her naked hips stirred Renee, who in her turn was manifesting signs of sensual delight. Soon after, both swooned gently in each other's arms, almost chastely entwined, each with her face buried on the other's love temple.
After that unique gesture, they drew closer, and, in each other's arms, murmured tender pledges of their intent to withstand all temptation. Even better, they came to believe it was not they who had lived through that mournful past, and they had pity on their "doubles," who had been the victims of such gross desire. They fell asleep thus entwined till the next morning, wakened by the singing of the birds and the rays of the warm sun. They looked at each other amorously, almost astonished to see themselves side by side, and then they kissed to wish each other a happy day and to promise each other a good and imminent night of bliss.
They went out the next day, and as they were returning to their hotel, a poster on a wall almost terrified them. It was from the Theater of Naples, where a French play was to be presented, written by Renee Dervien, and the star of it would be: Regina!
Had a bolt of lightning struck at their feet, it would have surprised them less than that sinister poster which put them back into rapport, far away as they were, with that woman whose mistress each of them had been and whom each wished so much to forget.
They smiled, trying to tell each other of fidelity, and they drew closer together, as if to arm themselves against coming danger.
Two evenings later, they found themselves before the doors of the theater, and, after exchanging a glance, entered. Regina came upon stage, and at once, both of them were troubled by this enigmatic woman. But Regina didn't see them at first. However, during one of her scenes, she had a moment of dialogue to one side, and automatically her eyes roamed towards that part of the theater where Michele and Renee were seated. She stopped and stared at them, and it took all her powers to keep from crying out. Very pale, she played her scene with rage, as if to forget, and Michele and Renee alone could comprehend the tumult in her soul.
During intermission, Michele and Renee went to the back of their box and talked. After a short discussion, Renee left Michele, going towards the wings, and two minutes later she was knocking at the door of Regina's dressing room. The latter, seeing her enter, had no hatred or rancor; she sent away her maid, and was in Renee's arms, ready to sob out her joy. Calming her as best she could, Renee murmured, "Calm yourself, we both love you. This evening, we shall expect you." And Regina murmured in reply, "I too, I love you both and I'm happy to find you again."
Renee came to hear the end of the play, giving Michele the details of her meeting with Regina, and when the latter came onto the stage, smiling and happy, she sent a look towards her two friends so full of gratitude and joy that they couldn't regret their decision to meet her in reunion. And, forgetting their oath of chastity and wisdom, both experienced a shiver of voluptuousness at the memory of pleasures tasted with Regina, and at the thought of enjoying them anew.
Though there were two rooms to the apartment they had rented in Naples, after the play, all three women were united in a single room. Regina, who had just arrived, contemplated both of them, moved and trembling, and finally all three clung to one another, kissing, tasting their tears of joy. They were so happy to be reunited that they did not consider the enormity of this liaison itself. True as if they had been virgins from ancient Lesbos, they found their love quite natural even in troilism and found no cause for embarrassment or shame in being three to this one bed of love. They had undressed and, having arranged a kind of bed on the floor from the rugs and tapestries they found in the two rooms, they stretched out completely naked in a kind of confusion of three commingling bodies. They kissed by chance, two of them clinging together, then turning to the third, who kissed and held them both, thus merging all their ardors. Finally their exasperated nerves longed for new caresses, and they formed a group of three: Renee gamahuched Regina, who sucked Michele's pussy, and she herself was placed in such a way that she could suck Regina's clitoris; thus merged, all three tasted hot spending at the same sweet time.
And again the three bodies merged; new poses were formed. This time it was Regina who finally regained her Michele by fucking her with a dildo strapped to her loins, a dildo containing a warm and sticky liquid. Renee pressed her pussy down on Michele's mouth to have her love button sucked, while offering her bottom to Regina, who buggered her with a second dildo which she wielded by hand.
The three became veritable furies, so great was their eroticism. Michele, fucked with deep hard thrusts of Regina's artificial cock, writhed and wriggled so the probing ramrod would plunge deeper into her sweet matrix. At the same time, she bit Renee's clitoris, and Renee moaned and weaved her impaled bottom, while Regina watched her spend. Regina's eyes fixed on the squirmings of that voluptuous white backside, and seein some drops of love juice glisten at the edges of Renee's vagina, uttered a cry that inflamed Michele and Renee, who swooned in their groaning ecstasy.
This orgy weakened them a little, and soon, dressed in fine silken bed robes, they treated themselves to a superb cold supper dosed with fine champagne, regaining their strength with great appetite, joking, gossiping, without the least embarrassment, kissing each other by turns, without jealousy, their eyes swimming with tenderness.
The past was banished, they all felt; they looked forward to sharing a communal life on their return to Paris.
Supper over, they smoked some perfumed Oriental cigarettes and sipped more champagne. Their strength was restored and they felt desires swirl in their cunnies and titties. Only Renee, who was more fragile, demanded a little respite which they granted her. But Regina savagely flung herself on Michele, twining her arms round her, rubbing her clitoris against her former sweetheart's. Then she began to suck Michele's toes, thence along the lovely legs, pausing a moment on the love button, thence to the sweet niche of the navel and to the nipples. And at last she buried her tongue in Michele's mouth, then brushed her eyelids with that agile, soft, versatile membrane. Finally, weary of these preparatory wooings, she turned Michele over and, prodding Michele's dainty bum hole with the warm dildo, tore a cry of pain from her former lover, which she quite ignored in her furious rut, frigging her clitoris at the same time. Michele had lifted herself to her knees. Seeing this, the excited Renee stretched out on her back, wriggled downwards and began to gamahuch her.
Feeling one of her friends sucking her and the other buggering her, Michele experienced wild joys which soon tore cries of voluptuousness from her panting mouth. Writhing, infuriated by the savage passions unleashed in her two orifices, she cried, "My darlings, ohh my darlings! You'll drive me crazy! Your tongue, Renee! Your prick, my beautiful Regina! Yes, yes, I love you both ohh, my lovers, my lovers, how good it is! Enough! Enough! Ohh, no, not again! Ahh, Renee, I'm yours ohh, and yours too, Regina! Ohh, Ohh ahh ohhh! I'm dying I'm dying!" There came a sort of moaning gasp from lovely Michelle, then silence.
Frightened, Regina and Renee hastened towards their mistress. She lay pale, lips discolored, a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth, her eyes dull.
"Michele!" Renee cried in terror as she cradled her adored sweetheart's head in her arms, her fears mounting at Michele's immobility. But Regina had hurried to bring cold water and smelling salts, and both women slowly revived Michele. She smiled gently as she saw them both bent over her when she opened her eyes. But her weakness was extreme, and her head fell back on the pillow. Then Regina and Renee stared at each other, profoundly moved, and before the broken, piteous puppet which their violent love had made of their Michele, they fell into each other's arms and sobbed.
The aftermath of this orgy was Michele's slow, painful recovery. She remained languid, still pale, and for the slightest reason became listless and inanimate. A doctor, called by her two lovers, diagnosed her case as one in which the heart had been impaired by a violent physical or mental shock and ordered that Michele be kept away from any emotional disturbances. Regina and Renee were consternated to hear this verdict. They realized too late that Michele's condition had come about through their uninhibited passion, and they could still hear in their ears the erotically maddened cries she had uttered, which had roused them to savage possession of her.
For the rest of their short stay in Naples, there could be no thought of further amorous ventures, and they devoted themselves to caring for Michele with a thousand little delicacies. Their lovely patient smiled at them with joyous gratitude to see these two women whom she adored, each with a different kind of love, flutter about her, ready to grant her slightest wish. She even experienced a gentle voluptuous pleasure in increasing her little demands and watch them quarrel over who would satisfy them. Sometimes they kissed her a little too tenderly, and then she begged them for more intimate caresses, which they implacably refused.
One evening, their last at Naples, they were having supper after the performance, laughing, chatting and joking, for Michele's health had improved to the point that the doctor had pronounced all danger fled and attributed this triumph over illness to Michele's radiant youth. At first, they wished only to celebrate by gaiety and good food and wine and animated conversation, but desire began to prowl in their beings. They were too sensual to endure long abstinence. Their eyes glistened, their lips were moist and quivering, their breath quickened as their superb bosoms rose and fell more erratically with each moment. And it was Regina, naturally, who first cast fuel on the flames. She had sat down on Renee's lap and was giving her tiny tantalizing kisses. "I'm jealous," Michele softly murmured.
"Oh, no," Regina cooed, hurrying towards her and kissing her rapturously. She felt Michele's head press to her bosom, heard the deliciously husky voice of her darling murmur her desires. Regina shivered and hesitated a moment, but Michele insisted so much, saying she was strong again, that her two friends didn't dare to refuse her, but they agreed not to push their amorous games too far. As soon as Michele was stretched on her bed, Renee gently began to suck her tittie buds, while Regina, no less gently, gamahuched her. Michele, again tasting the bliss of her two friends' caresses, soon spent, murmuring words of exquisite tenderness.
"That's enough, darling," Regina whispered, kissing her earlobe. "We must be good now."
"But I don't ask for anything," Michele petulantly responded. "I'm a little tired and I just want to rest. This little loving you've given me is quite enough, but I want so much to see you make love, you're my darlings, and I'm sure you want to."
Regina eyed Renee, who blushed, and finally they agreed to fuck before their sweetheart, Michele again promising to be good and wanting only to watch, as she was tired. But that was only a ruse; she closed her eyes so as not to disturb her two mistresses who, the moment they believed her asleep, began to fondle and frig each other. Lying on their sides in reverse, Renee's mouth against Regina's cunt, and Regina's avid lips nuzzling Renee's sweet pussy cavern, they gamahuched deliciously till the glistening white drops of spunk testified to the expertness of their wooing.
Yet they longed for more violent pleasures; both glanced at Michele who had kept her eyes closed and feigned deep slumber. Then Regina, who had seized the artificial prick, fell upon Renee and fucked her as a man would, murmuring in a soft voice, "I'm your lover you feel me penetrate your cunny, darling? I'm going to fuck your sweet pussy to the very bottom with my prick. Oh, my love, how I'd like to get you with child, open your thighs and spurt spunk in till you had a baby, bring forth the same flesh from the flesh I love so much!"
Renee, moaning with pleasure, clung to Regina, savoring the actress' naked beauty, and shared her ardor, imagining herself to be actually fucked by a prick, and her jumbled words proclaimed her erotic excitement. "My beautiful, lovely Regina! You're my all, oh how I love you oohh, ohh, dearest, Regina, ohh, it's heavenly, the way you're fucking me now ahh!"
"Yes, yes, I'm going to spend too, dearest oh, there, there, do you feel all my spunk shoot deep into your sweet cunny, Renee darling?"
But Renee was nearly fainting with pleasure, and spoke only with her glazing eyes. Then Regina crushed her mouth with avid lips, and the kiss they exchanged was that of a new liaison, affirmed in furious lust. They had forgotten the supposedly sleeping Michele, but the latter hadn't lost a gesture or a single word of what they had expressed in their erotic delirium.
She wasn't jealous, but to see them both so beautiful and desirable, she put her hand to her clitoris and gently began to frig herself so she might share their gushing come.
But, roused to feverish sensuality by the sight of her two lovers fucking so passionately, she forgot her ruse and when she finally spent, she could not hold back her soft cries of pleasure in which she pronounced the names dearest of all to her. Regina and Renee turned towards Michele in terror, but she reassured them, a gentle smile on her face, that all was well. They wanted to scold her, but as she felt no ill effects and begged them not to be harsh with her but to join her, they stretched out naked beside her and gave her ardent kisses.
Renee stopped the game, saying it was cruel to abuse her convalescence thus, and after a last kiss from them both, all three of them went to sleep with a smile on their lips, dreaming of the joys they had supremely tasted.
They returned to Paris in a happy mood, for Michele was, so it seemed, completely cured, and the bizarre trio made all sorts of projects for future debaucheries, in their quest for new sensations.
Renee, the least perverted and the wisest, held that they needed nothing else and no one else; it was enough to love as they did among themselves. But Regina made a moue with her sensual red lips, and Renee, vanquished, agreed to let her do as she wished, biting her mouth as desire for the actress once more seethed in her cunny.
There was no jealousy in their union. They loved one another as if they were only two; they had arrived at that estate which seemed impossible: perfect harmony in a Sapphic trio.
On this particular evening, Regina wasn't performing at the theater, so they had decided to dine together at Renee's and then spend a night of love. Regina had arrived, but found neither Renee nor Michele at home. She frowned, suspecting some treachery, for all three had agreed that nothing would happen without her being included or at least without her consent, and, as she had complete freedom of Renee's house, was going towards the bedroom when Renee suddenly appeared, smiling and in a playful mood.
"Excuse me, dear, for keeping you waiting, but I had such a strange experience that I still haven't recovered from it," Renee declared.
Regina came to her, her curiosity aroused, and, kissing her, asked, "Where's Michele?"
"She's gone out."
"Well, then, what's happened?"
"Oh, no, you must wait till she gets back, it's really too funny for words!" Renee giggled. And then, as if Michele had waited only for that summons to appear, they saw her holding out her arms to them on the threshold of the salon. In her turn, she was advised that Renee had an amusing story to relate, and Michele wound her arm around Regina's neck, listened avidly, interrupting with a peal of joyous laughter every now and then.
"I stayed home, as you see, to rest up for our night together," Renee explained. "I had stretched out in my boudoir after Michele had gone out, and tried to occupy myself with a book, but in vain. A kind of lassitude took hold of me, and I closed my eyes, giving myself up to a little nap. I was deep in that kind of coma for an indefinite time, when I heard whispering near me. I thought it was you two, and I was about to open my eyes when the sounds of voices struck me they weren't yours, but Fanny's and Martha's!"
"The maids?" Michele interrupted.
"The very same. I heard them say, 'How beautiful she is!' I tried to see without their discovering I was awake, and, succeeding, I saw they were talking about me."
"You've betrayed us," Michele giggled.
Renee went on. "Curious, I waited for them to go on. And they didn't keep me waiting long, I can tell you. I heard Martha say, 'I'd like to take her, suck her to the blood!' 'Try it!' Fanny counseled. 'I don't dare,' Martha whispered back, 'she'd wake up!' 'Bah, and so if she did? She'd already be so excited, she'd let you finish!' 'You think so?' 'I'm sure of it!' 'Then, so much the worse, I'll risk it!' "
"Well, my darlings," Renee resumed laughingly, "I admit I wanted to wake up, but I was ever so curious to see how Martha'd go about it, so I waited. Martha came to me on tiptoe, and since I didn't have much on, she had just to lift my bed robe and short chemise, and, kneeling down, she took my clitoris between her lips and began to suck it so expertly that I didn't have the heart to drive her away!"
"Pig!" Michele teasingly rebuked.
"She's cuckolded us both," Regina joked.
"But no, my loves, for if my flesh was roused, my heart and soul thought only of you yes, I swear to you that both of you participated in my pleasure then. Only, you, little Regina, and you too, my Michele, have perverted me so much that you have no right to be angry with me over something you would have let happen as I did, had you been in my place. But to go on so Martha was sucking me passionately, and Fanny, whom I could see was very excited, watched us as she pulled up her skirts and frigged herself, letting me see charming lingerie and very pretty legs sheathed in black silk stockings. I was so excited that I soon began to wriggle my bottom suggestively, and my gracious, I can tell you, I spent furiously, for I felt Martha's body arch and wriggle with her own pleasure. The little wretch was frigging herself at the same time, and I saw also that Fanny was nearly swooning as her eyes fixed on us. Well, I pretended to come to and stared at Martha who was quite embarrassed and began to stammer, 'Please excuse me, Madame, but-but I've earned it, for, I've loved Madame for so long and desire her so much I could die of it.' So I said to her, 'I excuse you, but go away.' And both of them went out, leaving me alone and, I confess, a bit exhausted!"
"Oh how charming," Michele giggled, "but you've been unfaithful, there's no other word for it!"
"Why yes," Regina added, "not only are we deceived, but tonight we'll have a worn-out lover in our bed and a faithless hussy too!"
"You're silly," Renee joked, guessing that they were really only teasing her, "because first of all I didn't deceive you, and secondly I'm not at all tired. On the contrary, I'm ready for new sports which will surprise you."
"Ought we to absolve her of her sins?" Michele laughingly asked Regina.
"Considering the confession of the guilty one, we grant her the clemency of the jury and pardon her, but impose a penance on her, that of gamahuching us both, one at a time, without any pleasure for her, even without frigging herself."
"Agreed," Renee laughed, "for I'm rested, and when I feel you spend, my darlings, I'll spend too even without touching myself!"
"Then let's eat," Michele cried.
"You ought," Regina said seriously to Renee, "really, you ought to invite Martha and Fanny to serve us."
"I have," Renee joyously exclaimed.
"Oh," Michele said, wagging a pretty finger at her friend, "you have become even more perverse than Regina."
"It's all your fault, my loves. And now, let's eat!" And the three lovely women laughingly walked into the dining room.
While they enjoyed their meal and chatted of things that could hardly shock the very popular butler who served their food and wine for Renee, for the sake of propriety, employed such a one, he being tactful and discreet
the three beauties toasted their night ahead in sparkling champagne. They smiled when Martha had to come in to help the butler, for her confusion enchanted them. At last they went into the solon to smoke and enjoy coffee and liqueurs.
They sang songs, and Michele, who had a lovely voice, offered a voluptuous waltz, which Renee had written lyrics for, while Regina accompanied her at the piano. When the last note had died away, Renee and Regina ran to her and kissed her eyes and lips in adoration. "It must be eleven," Regina remarked, "perhaps time to change the scene?"
"Martha will come tell us when all's ready and the rest of the servants gone to sleep," Renee responded with a naughty wink. Regina declared that, to while away the time till then, she would declaim verses by Verlaine, setting them to improvised music on the piano. Martha came as she was finishing, to announce that "the ladies are served," and all three assumed costumes of fanciful deshabille. They shivered in advance, thinking what a finale this night would have to the pleasures already savored. Michele was already seated on Regina's lap, burying her tongue in the actress' mouth, eyes staring into hers when Renee announced, "Be patient, darlings. Martha and Fanny are coming."
"What?" both beauties gasped.
"Yes, I confessed to them, and they're coming together. Because, you see, they've worked for me only a month or so, they share the same room, even the same bed. They adore each other, but there's a problem in their love affair how shall I explain it well, Martha has a caprice for me, and they've quarreled over this almost to the point of separation. But Fanny adores Martha and wants to keep her, even if she's in love with me. However, Martha loves Fanny, and to punish Martha for what she did to me this afternoon, I ordered them both to come down here and make love to each other in front of us. But if that displeases you, I'll cancel the order."
"Oh, no," Regina interposed," it would be amusing even exciting!" At that very moment, there was a knock at the boudoir door, and the two maids entered. But they were no longer humble maids; these were bolder of attitude, animated complexions, in deshabille as elegant as their mistresses. Their loosened tresses fell in thick cascades to their shoulders, and Renee said, "Leave them here, and we shall go into my bedroom."
A quarter of an hour later, the trio tiptoed back into the boudoir, but what they saw hardly soothed their inflamed senses. Stretched out on two wide white animal skins, before the fireplace, Martha, stark naked, yielded her body to Fanny, who, armed with three or four branches of flexible flowers, caressed Martha's body, sometimes with the stems, sometimes with the petals of the blossoms themselves. Martha stretched out with her face to the floor, her shuddering bare bottom wriggling and tremor-ing with passion. Regina, holding her artificial prick in hand, flung herself on that delicious bottom and sought to bugger her. Martha uttered a cry, but, doubtless accustomed to this amorous manifestation, wriggled and aided Regina to probe deeply with her dildo. Fanny knelt down and, stiffening her tongue like an arrow, dug it into Regina's gaping cunthole.
Excited by this illustrious example, Michele caressed Regina's loins and hips, while Renee thrust one finger into Fanny's asshole and the other into her pussy and began to finger-fuck both dainty orifices. Michele, whose clitoris was at the level of Martha's mouth, she having knelt astride Martha's neck to caress Regina more easily, felt herself caressed by the maid's lips, her clitoris sucked deliciously and expertly. Soon one heard sighs and confused cries, and the five naked beauties entwined and writhed in their gushing comes.
Michele remained in Martha's arms. The maid seized the dildo which had just buggered her, and thrust it into Michele's cunny and began to fuck her. Michele, her senses driven wild by this wooing, clung to Martha who, with unusual strength, lifted her and held her against her, digging the dildo in to the hilt, and sucking
Michele's tongue with ardor. Their saliva commingled, and sometimes Martha's nimble, eager tongue tickled Michele's eyes and nostrils.
But suddenly she felt herself being buggered, her eroticism intensified. She yearned for new sensations, and suddenly spying Regina's clitoris offered her, she began to suck it while she thrust herself at Martha to be fucked even more vigorously. Then Fanny, taken by a sudden fury, seized a birch switch lying on a little table, and began to lash these lovely bare bottoms.
The victims shrieked their delirious joy. Regina attained orgasm and rolled onto the floor. Renee, who was buggering Michele, also tasted hot come and broke away from her sweetheart. Only Martha and Michele remained entwined, Messalinas in their orgiastic fervor, crying out raucously as passionate come seized them. They fell back on the rugs, groaning with supreme passion. Michele was being fucked violently now as she lay sprawled with Martha above her, and the other women bent to suck Michele's panting titties or to bite or lick or kiss her wherever they might. But suddenly Michele uttered a cry so piercing and lamentable that Martha drew out the dildo and staggered to her feet. Michele lay pale, eyes closed. Frantic, Regina and Renee carried Michele to their bed. Fanny and Martha prudently vanished, to change costumes and make themselves useful.
But despite all the care the women could give her, Michele remained in a kind of coma. Martha phoned for the doctor and Renee received him at Michele's bedside, while Fanny cleaned up and made disappear all the artifices and articles used in that fateful orgy. The doctor shook his head, gave an order and said he would soon return. A few moments after he left, Michele seemed to come to. She looked first at Regina very gently and then at Renee, both of whom bent over her, their worried faces showing their concern; then, enervated, she began to rave in delirium, her eyes filled with scenes of incredible erotic lust, which she described in words she had never before uttered. Terrified, Regina and Renee held her down in bed as she began to struggle and to squirm, believing herself still the central figure of a tableau of incredible lust.
The doctor, called back urgently, came at the very moment when Michele suddenly grew calm, fell back exhausted, her eyes revulsing. He bent over her, took her pulse, then slowly straightened, and sadly closed her eyes.
Michele had died of love!
It is now three months after Michele's burial. Renee was mad with suffering. She pitilessly discharged Martha, whom she accused of Michele's tragic death. And she refused to see Regina after the burial. She may well go mad, if she continues to lock herself up alone with her wretched thoughts, her terrible brooding.
Regina was overwhelmed by this fatal end of love, and now is in a state of chaos, knowing not what to think or do or make of her life. She hasn't dared go see Renee, whose suffering she respects.
We come now to a beautiful spring day. Two autos stop before the Montmartre Cemetery. The chauffeurs carry armfuls of flowers, preceding two young women walking towards a grave already piled with flowers. It is Regina and Renee whom fate has brought together at this same moment to reunite before Michele's grave.
After both have arranged their flowers, they go back to their respective cars, but Renee, having murmured a few words to Regina, puts a hand on Regina's arm. The latter sends her car away and enters Renee's. As soon as the chauffeur has started up, Renee, whose hand is gripped by the actress, begins to weep without restraint. "We've killed her," she murmurs at last.
"She isn't angry with us, dear friend, since she allows destiny to bring us together at her grave."
"Perhaps that's true," Renee agrees, poetic nature that she is being ready to believe in supernatural explanations.
After a short silence, Regina resumes, "I didn't dare go to see you. I was afraid of displeasing you."
"I love you so much," Renee stammers, "because, like me, you loved her."
"Yes, yes, I loved her," Regina sighs.
"And I feel," Renee adds in a low whisper, "I feel it's through her will that we meet again, that it's she who brings us together and tells us -" here she stops.
"Tells us what?" Regina gasps.
"Nothing or, rather I will tell you later what I believe our Michele wants in bringing us together thus." Regina does not insist that Renee say more.
Since that unforeseen meeting, Regina and Renee have seen each other every day. Not wishing to yield to their desires, still too painful from Michele's loss, they avoid disturbing s�ances, and Renee has gone to work on a drama which she is finishing and which is impregnated with the suffering she has endured. The work, presented in a Parisian theater, will naturally be acted by Regina, and both women are working furiously towards a mutual success. At last, opening night arrives.
Renee, hidden behind a screen, watches the first scenes of her first act. Her thoughts go back eighteen months ago . . . she sees herself in a similar setting, behind just such a scene, beside Michele, a Michele whom she has won and made happy. Regina's voice draws her from her stupor and takes her back to reality. Michele isn't here any more, only Regina remains, and yet more and more, as she hears the actress' voice, she is haunted by the feeling that Michele still stands beside her.
That vibrant voice, that seeking look, that brilliant artistry of the actress who can transport this audience, this is Regina who knows how to weep and who like herself, perhaps remembers that other evening.
Then Renee, after the first act, feels her arm seized by a hand that strangely resembles that of Michele and she goes towards Regina's dressing room, for she is certain that Michele is leading her there.
The room is full of people congratulating her, and Regina, pretending fatigue, sends them all away as soon as Renee enters. As soon as the two are alone, they hug each other a long moment, and Regina herself murmurs, "You remember?"
A sob is Renee's reply, and Regina, terrified, calms her by murmuring: "Don't weep, I'm certain she wouldn't want you to weep and that she is with us even now . . . "
Renee's tears cease at once, so astounded is she to find that Regina's thought is precisely her own. No, she mustn't weep. Michele is there, unseen but in spirit, and wouldn't want her to weep.
It's another triumph for the author and the actress, who leave together, their car laden with bouquets. They will have supper at Regina's, for they never wish again to see that place where Michele drew her final breath.
After a charming supper in which they evoke the past, without any rancor or sadness certain as they are that their Michele wouldn't want this they go back to their chairs and gently hold hands. Renee stares into Regina's ardent eyes, and a desire to make love takes hold of them yet it's a desire that's gentle, with no hint of past savagery. They feel they've endured a crisis, that their senses and nerves are ill and that they must have submitted to the tragic loss of Michele to cure them once and for all. Without admitting it, their past lusts have disgusted them. The wind of death that blew so near them has carried away their feverish lubricities.
They are true Lesbians, so be it, and proud of it, but they have nonetheless, a little shame at having terminated this beautiful cult, so dear to Sappho, through practices which they know now are ignoble. They live only for gentleness, health and sincere, lasting love. So almost chastely they entwine and move towards Regina's couch.
Stretched out side by side, their arms enlaced, their lips meeting, their gazes merging, their souls communicate. Gently Regina moves towards the dear temple of love, and now that it is purified by suffering, begins to suck almost devoutly the little clitoris which soon stiffens and stands out. Soon Renee tastes orgasm and her voice summons Regina. The actress, without releasing her, moves her loins over her friend's mouth, and both gamahuch each other till a final spasm shakes them with a gentle, sweet bliss.
They pass an exquisite night, and the very next day, when they waken to find their arms round each other, they feel their lives are limited forever more and that the specter of Michele, far from cursing them, will watch over their love; in a fervent kiss, they exchange an oath of fidelity, as few Lesbians ever do, and Sappho must needs bless the sacrament of their hearts in adoration.
I've known Renee and Regina both, and it's of them that I write this realistic story. They are now two lovely little old ladies, still very coquettish, exquisitely gowned, their hair gray but beautifully coiffured. Renee still writes novels which sell and dramas which are performed, and Regina is, alas, a little disappointed that she cannot keep up with her dear friend, for she no longer acts on the stage.
They've bought a chateau that has been restored, one in which there still remains a little chapel from olden times. After their story, they took me to that holy place, where a country priest often comes to say Mass. I was astounded to find them both religious, but they only smiled and showed me a flagstone on which is an inscription: Michele. And I understand now, for Regina added: "These are her remains, and it's in her honor that incense burns here sometimes."
We've gone back to their huge salon, and Regina, very moved by all she's told me, leans to Renee, a little pale from evoking all those ghosts of a dear past.
"Would you believe?" Regina says to me, "we still love each other as on the first days of our oath."
"Platonically?" I smile.
"Why, not at all," Regina vehemently protests. "Our nights are not devoted only to dreams and memories."
"Regi, Regi," Renee scolds affectionately.
"So you're blushing, my dear?" the actress winks at me. "Our friend here knows life, and understands that a woman's heart never ages and that women are not like men, seduced only by youth."
I stare more attentively at the two friends, and I admit they are still charming and desirable . . . and I understand.
Renee's grave voice, still poetic, concludes: "Because the shadow of Michele's spirit wishes it thus."
THE END
LIVING TABLEAUX
OR
My Confessions at the Foot of the Duchess
VOLUME ONE
PREFACE
HOW shall I treat today your little jewel, Duchess? Am I only to rub the tip of my agile tongue over that fresh clitoris, perfumed so delicately with lavender-water? Or do you wish me to take it between my lips, where I shall roll it about like a praline concocted at the world's most renowned pastry shop. I shall make it feel the sharpness of my teeth ready to crack the living flesh.
But would you not rather have my libertine tongue roam unhindered all over your slit and well inside of it? You yourself shall hold open the red lips, and while my finger shall slowly titillate the love button, my tongue will seek a drop of sweet liqueur from the depths of your chalice.
But my mistress said to me: "None of that. Give me only your poem on Mother Eve and relate to me the stories of your former love."
You see, I am a poet, my dear reader. I am also a man without prejudice, as you shall soon see for yourself. My name is Richard de la Brulaye. I am twenty-eight, rich, a handsome cavalier with a good sword and a quick wit, ready to love many women and to caress all whom I do not love but who are beautiful.
At your service and always ready I shall close this parenthesis. And so, seated at the feet of my Duchess, head upon her knees, I began the song that she wished to hear:
THE GLAND
OR -
Our Mother Eve
It has been said that evil first appeared to our Mother Eve in the form of a serpent. But don't believe that. Satan is never pleased except when he can take human form, because in that form he can achieve the most evil. So he presented himself to the Mother of us all in the form of a handsome young man. And what he presented to her was not an apple it was a gland.
Eve found this fruit of love, polished, soft, and gleaming. Moreover, it seemed enormous to her. She judged it quite superior to that of Adam, who much preferred to sleep in the grass and therefore whose virile organ was usually somewhat dirtied as a consequence.
Satan perceived without any difficulty the impression that he produced upon the naive soul of Eve, and at once abused it. He lifted the gland to Eve's face and said to her: "Kiss it," which she did. Her lips, guided by nature, attacked it so well that juice spurted out of it.
Then she recognized that this precious object had as much savor as it did charm. She told her seducer exactly that, out of her ingenuousness, and he said to her: "Wait a bit." There would, after all, be no virtue in being the Devil if one did not have diabolical vigor. So he therefore threw our Mother upon the grass and gave her proof of his virility. He turned her around on all fours and did it to her dog-fashion. Then he asked her to lie upon him and she did it astride of him. Afterward, not feeling satisfied yet, he turned her around the second time and did it to her Greek style. In the behind, Madame, to translate for you, as it was done in Sodom. Eve cried a little, but nevertheless found it good.
And so she had tasted the gland in every way possible, and taken the divine liqueur which spurted from it in every one of her natural orifices. But of course, since this story is difficult to tell children, everyone explains to them that this gland was really an apple. Take my word for it-it was a gland.
My Duchess listened to me, and then laughed. "Here is an amusing fantasy," she said to me. "Now, let's pass on to good stories. I wish until tomorrow to have enjoyment through my ears."
She thereupon made me sit beside her, with both my hands under her skirts. The Duchess held between her rosy fingers the hero of the little poem which I had just recited, my Lord Gland in a most haughty attitude. So I began about ten o'clock in the evening the story you are going to read. When day dawned, I was still speaking.
But listen to the stories:
One Ought Not to Fuck One's Own Mother
Ladies, I tell you truly, prigging is a way of having sexual enjoyment that is much more efficacious than really agreeable. I think it was invented to triumph over the resistance of nature. Probably the first person who frigged himself was an unfortunate fucker.
There are in this world disinherited creatures to whom heaven refuses the gift of pleasure. The warmest kisses, the most passionate embraces, cannot really ignite these people of living marble: the finger is their last resource. No woman can resist a wise index finger.
But those for whom the operation is necessary enjoy it as if they were children. In the suffering of love, a lover's fingers fondle their titties and then seek the rebellious clitoris, attain it, press it and rub it with rage. The woman cries out, "You are scorching me!" She wriggles in a nervous paroxysm. Pleasure tears her the way lightning tears darkness; it lasts no longer than the lightning.
But there is many a clitoris, on the contrary, that it suffices to touch to bring them to life. Frigging is truly a landmark of touching and if your amorous steed shudders at the first attacks of the finger that caresses her, use all your artistry and delicacy, especially if she has never been touched there before. It is an extremely delicate operation to frig a virgin.
A sigh, a convulsive start must warn you that crisis is near. Sometimes a naive girl will reveal the very root of the matter by saying, "You are going too fast!"
A man of wit, who was at the same time a great libertine, used to say, "May God give me the grace of having slow fingers."
Lightness alone does not suffice; one must touch correctly. The clitoris flees, you must seize it. Perhaps you yourself have never frigged any of your mistresses without, during the course of your byplay, her having said to you, "It's not fair!"
How awkward men are! Women know better how to find their needs that fact alone justified Lesbos.
Again, when two women render among themselves the eminent service of frigging each other, the task is not perfect. The most accomplished tribadist sometimes touches towards the side. One is never better frigged than by oneself . . .
"It's not fair!" Valentine said to me.
The place of our rendezvous was at least strange. It was a grilled window on the edge of which Valentine had climbed. I had to hoist myself up as best I could on a huge rock, pass my hands through the bars of iron needless to say, it was at night. Nor was there the slightest way to exchange a kiss. Only the sterile tickling which I could apply only with a sure finger. And so I did not even waken a hint of pleasure in Valentine. Besides, she gave me back my caresses. Stretching her hand in her turn through the bars, she used it according to the good lesson which I myself gave her. The result was prompt: my spunk spurted onto the ground.
"That is what one calls plucking a goose," I told Valentine.
And when I think it depended only upon me to enter that house, to find an occasion to discover that lovely girl naked in my arms, to warm that living statue yes, but it was necessary to fuck her mother!
It is always necessary to fuck the mother. It is a hard necessity. Madame de Meissiat was at least fifty, but she was still hardy, a fire which could still burn but would not go out. She had warned me she would have me, and that she would keep me enslaved, and Valentine knew this.
So on this particular night, having in vain awaited the pleasure of my clumsy tickling through the iron bars, having felt nothing, and hoping for everything in a long kiss, she said to me, "Richard, it would cost you very little to be nice to my mother."
So the next day, at three in the afternoon, I went to the castle of the Messiat, I rang the bell and I asked for Madame. The servant who introduced me began to smile. I threw her on a table as we passed through the kitchen, I trussed up her clothes, and I buggered her. That was by way of appetizer.
I had ordered Valentine to stay in the corridor which led to her mother's apartment. I joined her there, I kissed her, finally I knelt before her. My head glided under her skirts, I kissed her belly and her thighs. That was to give me courage.
As for what then took place in the boudoir of her mother, let night cast its dark shadows upon the events! The old one awaited me lying upon a chaise lounge. Still inflamed from having tasted her daughter, I could not let my ardor chill before the mother. I seized that fifty-year-old temptress without a word. Only, so I could escape kissing her, I fucked her dog-fashion. "What a man!" she said.
An immense soft and fat behind rose before my eyes. I thought I was rubbing myself in rancid lard; it seemed to me that I was probing into a sea of sticky water, and I fucked and fucked and fucked, for nothing rubbed me, nothing clamped me, I plunged into empty space. My lover if she could be called that uttered frightful shrieks. Oh, the old lubricious devil that she was! I left her half dead with her disgusting pleasure.
Then I went into Valentine's room. The dear girl herself purified me in her own washbasin and removed the signs of my somewhat incestuous homage.
Quickly I removed all her clothes. In our usual nocturnal rendezvous upon that grilled window, I had never once penetrated the charms of this beautiful child, and I had not even seen them as they were. Ah, at last, the temple of Venus appeared to me, and what perfume it had! I knelt down and breathed in deeply and devoutly.
Valentine was not a virgin. Her cousin had unmaidened her without her experiencing anything except pain. "He was too old," she explained. I took her on the edge of the bed, since I was young. Pushing my prick into her was painful, but she endured it bravely.
I asked her, "Do you feel something?"
"No."
"What? My hands fondling your titties, the thrusts of my prick which I give your sweet cunny don't cause you any pleasure?"
"No . . . not yet but keep on going."
I did keep on going, I did! I awaited that first contraction of all her body, that rapid wriggling of her bottom, a sigh or only a shorter, hurried breath, those divine preludes which finally announce that the beloved woman is not at all insensitive to the caresses of her lover. But absolutely nothing happened!
This body which I held pressed under mine seemingly was made to love. Valentine was brunette, svelte, shapely. Not much in the way of titties, but deliciously full buttocks. A burning cunt, and tight. A lascivious mouth and shining eyes. Yet all this was only a vain appearance. My mouth ran from her mouth to her titties, my fingers from her clitoris to her asshole, and I fucked and fucked and I pushed and nothing!
Now strength began to fail me, and my manhood was about to shoot forth in a jet of flame. I had nothing left. I teased Valentine and, taking her over my knee, I began to frig her furiously. Her clitoris was so small and furtive that I could scarcely find it. I rubbed it with all my force. She complained, she cried, and finally she had a little orgasm in the midst of a nervous crisis.
Deceptive, glacial girl, I left her never to see her again. I went away humiliated, despairing in not having triumphed over that rebellious nature. Never, never again will I take my part of a daughter after having first fucked her--her mother. I will start with the daughter first.
THE FLESH OF A PULLET
She was simple in all things, simple as a child. To any proposals I made, she said, "I am simplicity itself."
But that simple person was truly a double whore. I shall designate her only by the name of Pauline perhaps you may guess the name of her husband, a very high government official.
I loved her. One morning there came an anonymous letter telling me that my chaste mistress was making love with Baptiste, her footman. I believed it, for I knew her capable of sleeping with all the men on earth and then seeking for others in the moon itself. That was why, when she came to see me the next day, I welcomed her somewhat coldly. I would have willingly closed my door to her, but she entered . . . simply.
I saw her wrapped in a great fur cloak which she cast onto an armchair. She did the same with her hat, and came to sit beside me with an innocent and deliberate air, all at the same time quite simply.
"Good day, dear," she said to me. "I wanted to come spend the day with you. Simple as I am, I couldn't resist the impulse."
"Has your simplicity already seized the ingenuity of your valet Baptiste?" I asked her, and I stared her straight in the eye.
"Baptiste?" she said. "I don't have any valet by that name. Anyway, what do you mean?"
At the same time, her hands began to roam over me. And I? Oh, cowardice of a man who feels the needle of pleasure. Mine imitated hers.
"The devil!" I said to my unfaithful one. "You have a very heavy dress on."
"I shall take it off," she replied simply.
Simple in all things, she always wore simple linen chemises like a boarding school pupil. Outside it was quite cold, she didn't have time to warm herself at the fire, and she had the flesh of a pullet. This reddened skin of hers made me feel sorry for her, the little wretch, and she came to sit with her bare bottom on my knees, her face turned towards the fireplace. Ever so simply.
Ah, if that wife of the high government official wasn't a genius in taking out a man's cock from his trousers. Holding the object of her desire in her hands, Pauline simply passed it under her and tried to plant it inside herself. The sword did not enter so easily into the sheath. What an astonishing sheath! It opened itself the first time one probed it, but resisted the second time. Pleasure swelled it and put a kind of lock at its door, so one had to push and force one's way.
Then this swelling augmented itself, till one would say it was a tumified wound whose edges were held down by a surgeon's finger. It was a sensation almost cruel, and most delicious. The noble whore wriggled, cried, foamed at the mouth in her delight.
She was long and fleshy at the same time, she covered and enveloped a man. When I had finally thrust myself full into her cunt, after many efforts and attempts and sorry trials, she began to show her real talent. Rolling and twisting, movements forward and backward and what maneuvers! All of a sudden she wriggled away from me. Madame was afraid to make a baby.
Slipping down to my knees, she greedily gobbled up what would otherwise have impregnated her at any moment. My spunk spurted between her lips. Wiping them with her hair, which had fallen down in a lovely cascade, she said to me, "Isn't it true that one can do everything for one's lover when one is simple?"
I willingly gave her the bill of indemnity which she asked of me for what she had just done. Now that my desire was assuaged, my anger was reborn, and I began to think of Baptiste again. Pauline, however, still squatting at my knees, played with my stiff prick all the time.
"Richard, what is it called?" she asked me.
I didn't answer.
"Its name tell me its real name," she repeated as she kissed it.
"It's a cock," I said harshly to her. "Don't you know that?"
"A cock! A cock!" she repeated. "And this?" She raised herself and put my hands between her thighs, which were already shuddering at the thought of a new melee.
"That?" I cried. "That's a whorehouse, a public place, a bottomless space, a gulf, and a place in which our friend Baptiste lost himself! You wretch who prostitute yourself with your footman, you infamous whore!"
I stopped after all this harangue, for I saw Pauline's eyes filled with tears. She let herself fall at my knees.
"Well, yes," she said to me. "It was in the country. I shall tell it to you simply. In the evening, I was alone, and there was a storm. I felt everywhere inside of me this storm, which was burning me, and little Baptiste was in the next room. But I have driven him away since."
"Enough!" I cried. I seized my dog whip and I struck. Pauline ran through the room, then threw herself on the sofa with her face against the wall. I ripped away the chemise, I stripped her bottom and loins naked, and I continued to slash at her. My whip traced long red streaks on that lascivious flesh which I wounded and which I still adored. Pauline bit the pillow to stifle her cries, all of her body wriggled and twisted so licentiously that my fury soon gave away to another kind of intoxication. I flung my whip away. Gentlemen, if you want to get a good hard on, whip your mistress first!
"Pauline," I said to that admirable whore as I fucked her from behind, "pardon me and let's mount to heaven!"
"Ah, ah, I pardon you simply," Pauline murmured.
That cunt without equal, already so warmly heated from the first orgasm the slut had enjoyed, swelled so strongly the second time that my prick came out only with a terrible effort, with the same noise that you hear when you pull a cork out of a bottle of champagne.
A HUSBAND FROM AFRICA
I saw Madame de Rochemure for the first time at a party and my eyes at once considered her a very delicious tidbit as they devoured her bare shoulders. They were fine, plump, satiny shoulders. I told myself that this appetizing flesh might not be firm but it certainly looked youthful. Although she was about thirty, Madame de Rochemure had something childish in her face, a round little nose with an innocent air and chubby cheeks, chestnut hair and a moist mouth. She was tall and voluptuously curved in a most promising way. I heard her tell her neighbor who was complimenting her upon her health, "I used to be fatter."
I said to myself that what she had left would be quite enough for me, and I said so almost aloud, enough for her to guess what I was saying, and to blush.
I was soon presented to her and learned to know her better. She was a great moralist and a severe defender of virtue, pitiless toward other women who sinned. One day she said to me, "Know that I have never had a lover!"
"Great! So I shall be the first!" I cried. She stood up, haughty and angry. I flung myself at her knees to implore pardon and I did not rise until I had obtained it from her mouth.
"What?" she simpered. "You kissed me. Did
I let you do that? I who -" She stopped short. Her voice failed her as if she had just unexpectedly yawned, and yet I swear that it was not on her mouth that I had put my hand.
She always wore a very charming lace veil, a veil which could easily be removed, and her two titties were under my lips. They were just as I had imagined them, solid and fresh, but the flesh was delicate and the nipples quivered under my kiss. You could bite into her shoulders as into a ripe peach. I sat down on a tabouret, I drew her to me in short, I fucked her.
She wasn't tight, nor was she wide. It was a nice place into which one entered without obstacle. Inside there was a humidity comparable to a summer evening, soft and warm. I trussed up her clothes to her waist, and as we found ourselves in front of a mirror, my eyes detailed her beauties. Her calves, her plump thighs, her buttocks which undulated like two white waves, two ample, abundant and velvety buttocks.
"Oh," she murmured, "what an adventure what will they say about me! How horrible!"
She remained there, pierced by my prick, without making a single movement, and being content to press her weight down on me. I was obliged to hold her by the hips and lift and lower her to the tempo I desired. The mirror reflected back this voluptuous exercise. "Oh," she murmured, "please don't look!"
She wasn't experiencing an orgasm. She seemed only possessed by an infinite tenderness which had its source in her heart and from there spread out through all her veins. She begged me not to give her a child, so I lifted her at the supreme moment. She put her hand with a good deal of grace towards me and slowly finished me between her fingers.
Then I heard the footsteps of a colonel, which sounded like the regular beating of a drum. I had forgotten to mention that Monsieur de Rochemure was a colonel of the heroic 232nd Brigade. Madame de Rochemure had only time to dry her fingers with her handkerchief, I to stuff my cock back into my trousers. The Colonel entered the vestibule of the house and, sticking his head through the half-open door of the boudoir, saw us both honestly seated at the corner of the fireplace.
"Good evening, Count," he cried to me. "The sun has just set. I am going to do like the sun. Good evening, my dear friend."
His wife said to him, "Good evening, Gustave."
Then the Colonel went up to his room.
The Colonel's wife seemed like a plump white pullet that came to perch on my knee. The time was spent gently between us, you may be sure. She asked me if I were contemptuous of her because she had given in so quickly. I told her that I hoped to give her very shortly a new proof of my esteem for her. Suddenly the Colonel opened his window and bellowed out of it: "Marie!"
She started from my knees and crossed to the threshold and I followed her. "Is the Count still there?" the Colonel demanded.
"Yes, my friend," she said.
"Yes," I called out.
"Sacre Dieu! Do you know what time it is."
"A superb time, my friend," his wife called back.
"An angelic time, my Colonel," I called back.
"Don't--don't tire yourself, my friend." Why had the Colonel's wife interrupted herself at the start of that comment? It was because, placed behind her, seeing her bent toward the window to call upwards to him and offering me the generosity of her beautiful bottom, I had dared -
"You're right," the Colonel called down. "After all nothing is better than a night spent in one's own bed.".
I had dared to truss up her clothes. I sought to pass under that beautiful moon of white flesh to attain the goal of my animated desires. Was I dreaming? Madame de Rochemure, stretching her hand behind her and grasping my cock, directed it towards another route.
"Good night, Marie," the Colonel called. "Good night, Count."
"Good evening, my friend," she called back. "Good evening, my Colonel," I added. He closed his window.
"Truly," I said in a very low voice to my beautiful queen of Sodom, "do you want to --? "
She didn't answer, but she still directed me. The road was well worn, for I entered with less difficulty in that nether temple than in the normal one. The hand of Madame de Rochemure, this woman of great morality, this creature of virtue, this hand so clever in expressing the will of righteousness, seized mine and pulled mine in front of her. I obeyed her mute order with all the agility of my fingers, frigging her deli-ciously. Then her tasty backside began to move, first with little starts, then with frantic speed. And as I perforated her to her bowels, I frigged her delightfully. This time she writhed with pleasure; she seized my other hand and clapped it over her mouth to stifle any cries that would escape. Since this type of joy is sterile in its issue, I did not hold back my spunk but let it flow.
"The devil," I said. "I had forgotten that your husband had served in Africa. Did he teach you this?"
"Yes," she murmured. "It's very naughty, but it's the only thing I like."
THE ADULTERER CLAD AS A BRIDE
It was in the midst of a ball given by monsieur de Saint-Cherin, his father, after an intoxicating waltz, that Suzanne led me outside the salon into her boudoir and thence into her bedroom, whereupon she bolted the door. Flinging her arms around my neck, she crushed her mouth to mine.
"They want to marry me to that Marquis de Berg-op-Zoom whom I detest, when it's you I love."
"At least that maggot won't have your first kiss."
"No, he won't. Oh, Richard, why weren't you a millionaire?"
"If I am poor, that is one more reason to give me some of the wealth of this Berg-op-Zoom. Another kiss."
"Two kisses."
"Do you love me?"
"I love you."
"And if I ask you to be mine, mine entirely before being his?"
"Oh what are you doing, Richard?"
With one hand I parted her bodice, and with the other I lifted the folds of gauze which enveloped her. That lovely body was still moist with the warmth of the ball. An odor of violet mingled with I can't tell what subtle and wild perfume from the naked skin rose in the room. A drop of sweat rolled down like a warm rivulet between the two titties of the young girl, and glistened on her thigh. My fingers stole into a thick pussy fur, a real fur. I began to frig her.
When I think now how beautiful she was, with her enormous black hair twisted and disheveled, her enormous eyes, also black burning and humid, her features bold, her mouth a little thick and of a scarlet that haunted your dreams of fucking, I think myself still back in that happy dream of pleasure. Suzanne had above her lip, however, the moustache of a young boy. In truth, she was almost as hairy as a man. But she had the hand of a duchess and the foot of a fairy. I knelt before her, slipped under her light skirts which fell over me and imprisoned me under their folds. My mouth encountered a clitoris which was thicker and longer than most women have. I began to suck it with an almost furious greediness.
I still think with indignation that there are unfortunate Philistines who have never given that kind of caress to a mistress and who flatter themselves on not having done so. There is nothing like a kiss to penetrate into the intimacy of a woman and go right to her heart. A prick is blind, but lips and tongue are subtle and sure. There are cunts why should one recoil before true words which smell wild, and there are others that have the flavor of strawberries.
Suzanne tilted her head onto my shoulder, and she spent. Excuse me if I say that I then put my prick in the air and that she grabbed hold of it with her two hands. "Teach me what to do," she then said.
Her dress of pink tulle was at once flooded. However, the ball was at its end. Suzanne had to return to the salon, and I dried her dress. Showing me a closet, she said, "Hide yourself in there until I return."
I obeyed. The closet that I entered had an intoxicating odor. In it were all the dresses that Suzanne had worn. I reflected my double happiness. I could not wed Suzanne, yet I would have her all to myself. I did not have long to wait, because she soon came back followed by her chambermaid. I concealed myself in the closet between a cloak of blue silk and a cape of lace, pulling the folds of the skirt over my face and allowing only a little corner for one of my eyes to peek out of.
"Hurry," Suzanne said as she came in. "Quickly, Julie, I want to sleep this evening." She undid her bodice herself, and her dress fell.
Mademoiselle Julie said, "Shouldn't you put on a nightgown?"
"No. Quick take off these flowers." The petticoat followed the dress.
"What a hurry Mademoiselle is in! Did Mademoiselle have fun this evening?"
"Yes, yes. Don't gossip so, Julie."
"Does Mademoiselle wish the bidet?"
Suzanne looked toward the closet, smiled, hesitated, smiled again, and then got astride the bidet. The maid came behind her and lifted up her chemise to hand her a night robe. Suzanne quickly looked at herself, naked as Mother Eve.
"The napkin, Julie, the napkin," she cried. Julie gave her a napkin. Suzanne took it from her, thanked the girl, saying that she would go to bed by herself, and then locked the door.
I came out of the closet. I covered with burning kisses that burning, golden flesh. Everything was new to me in this unknown country. No, I shall never forget a black silky hair that crept out of the valley between her two admirable buttocks. This girl, this dear girl, was so well disposed by nature to love and to pleasure that she was not astonished when I put my tongue into that little tidbit.
"You kiss that too?" she asked. A single night rendered her expert in everything. Berg-op-Zoom will be a very lucky man on his wedding night, thanks to me.
A week later they got married. The morning before the ceremony Suzanne wrote me "Come! This time Julie had been warned. She will bring you in through the garden. I want you to fuck me in my wedding gown."
I came. The maid was waiting for me. "Julie, my girl," I said to her, "you could make your fortune as I shall make the first child of your new master, Berg-op-Zoom. Take this and be quiet."
Julie took a purse from me and swore oaths to be always faithful. However, the carriages were coming up to the house. Suzanne bounded out of her new carriage up to her room. She had, that same morning, added a new lock to the door for the bolt.
We didn't take time to go right to the bed. The first chair received both of us. I was the horse, Suzanne was the equestrienne, which is probably the most favorable position for prolonging pleasure.
So I trussed up my rider, crushing her immaculate skirt and her mystic veil. Suzanne wore on her forehead the flower which symbolizes virgins. Never before has an orange blossom been so slandered. Suddenly the voice of Berg-op-Zoom resounded through the house. "Suzanne, my dear Suzanne!"
"Don't you ever think I shall give that maggot the same caresses I give you!" she said to me. She was sucking my mouth at the same time. This adorable girl, my glorious pupil, had never put so much art into the holy act. She raised and lowered herself upon me. My prick probed into her pussy to the very hilt, emerged, thrust home again.
Soon, feeling that pleasure was going to overcome us in spite of all our self-control, she remained motionless, tightly squeezed against me, fucked by my cock up to my very balls. I slipped my finger between her two satiny buttocks, from which that dainty little bouquet of black silk, one of the most piquant of her charms, emerged. I buried my finger hastily, I wanted to touch her very bowels. Our mouths pressed together, and our tongues slithered.
At this very moment, Berg-op-Zoom took it into his head to knock at the door to say, "Suzanne, open the door to me, my dear Suzanne."
Undoubtedly she had lost her head a little, for she called out in a loud voice, "You can't enter anywhere."
The fact is that everywhere she was filled. I couldn't stop laughing, and the movement that my laugh made rippled through my entire body and finished our spending.
Berg-op-Zoom went off down the hall grumbling. The poor man the task was done. He had his first child at the end of nine months less one week, two hundred sixty days after the ball and the happy ending I have just described.
COMMENTS UPON A SPYGLASS, OR THE BIZARRE QUIRKS OF NATURE
Madame Celeste de Congey, having invited me to a great repast which she gave for her friends, I went without having to be coaxed. Madame was in magnificent attire, quite decol-letee. Two beautiful titties, half-emerging from her bodice, made the dowagers frown. But it was much worse when, as she sipped wine, she began to laugh. She coughed, and in the effort caused by that unfortunate cough, the left tittie broke its barrier and bounded out of its prison.
She thrust it back in slowly and without disturbing herself, while examining from the corner of her eye the effect that the sight of her charms had produced upon her male guests. She saw, the little rascal, that the one most moved was I. Oh, Nature! Capricious in all your designs, you wish to place the heart near the belly. Thus the emotion of one precipitates the course of the other. That is what happened. I was obliged towards the end of the evening to relieve my bladder, and as I went down a long corridor, I came to a room which seemed sufficiently enough withdrawn to be a water-closet. From it there emanated a gentle odor of jasmine, which is not at all unusual in such places. I groped with my hand and found a chair with holes. Necessity knows no law.
Suddenly, as I was finishing my work, the sound of light footsteps, the rustle of silk was heard in the hallway. They pushed the door, they entered, I did not stir.
The lady for it was one knew exactly where the chair with holes was situated. She took her measures in consequence. She recoiled, lifted her skirts which covered me with a thick mantle, and two round and full, plump, warm buttocks lowered on me, believing that they were posing upon another throne.
"Ah, help! What a horror! Who is there ? A man!"
The misfortune was that, with all her preparations, she had begun to piss. A burning flood inundated my thigh.
"Help! A man!"
"Madame, in heaven's name don't scream so," I begged her.
"A man!" As if she needed to hear my voice to know that it was a man she was doing business with! Certain signs told her very well what sex I was the emblem of my prick was stirring under her. "Monsieur!" she cried, and she was still pissing.
My arms enclasped that magnificent backside, my two hands crossed upon that rounded belly.
"Monsieur, who are you?' '
"I am your neighbor at the table," I answered while my hands -
"Monsieur! Here and doing what you're doing -"
"It's you who are doing it I, I finished."
"Here," she repeated, "you are a pig. You smell bad. Ooh, you, you insolent one ? Would you dare? It is entering how disgusting oh! oh!" She was spending and she was pissing at the same time what delight and yet what horror!
"It was you, Richard, it was you," she said to me. "Here on a chair with holes I shall never dare look at you again. How can we get out of here?"
"It is absolutely indispensable, my beauty, that you get up first and leave me."
"Listen there is there in the corner a bidet full of fresh water. I shall go to my room and purify myself."
"But I am the one who got everything!"
The fact is that this dear Celeste, by pissing on me, had put me in a state so that I could hardly reappear in the salon.
I must tell you that this wardrobe closet was actually the adjoining toilet which Madame de Congey had and connected with her room. I rejoined that beauty in her room when I had cleansed myself in the bidet. She aided me in, despoiling me of all my clothes so that we could dry ourselves before the fireplace, and then we started to fuck again. That was the way my love affair with Celeste de Congey began. I call it the affair of the spyglass because the words "spy glass" is a pun which refers both to the two holes which are pierced in a piece of wood used for seating oneself for natural functions as well as to describe the two delicious cheeks of a woman's behind plump and satiny as Celeste's truly were!
THE STRAWBERRY
"You've slept enough, my beauty. The sky is pure, the weather is warm, the birds are twittering in the trees, put on your white robe, my darling, we shall go into the woods."
Laurette consented willingly. We got on the train, got off at the Sevres station and walked toward the forest.
Once we had gone well into it, and being sure of being alone without witnesses, we rested a moment. Laurette presented her mouth to me, I put a kiss upon it, then two kisses, then ten.
But Laurette was distracted. I followed the direction of her gaze, and I saw a fresh stream filtering under the grass, forming a little natural basin surrounded by daisies. I understood my mistress's desire and I led her towards the stream. She squatted above the water, and I went to wash her myself.
Then we went further into the woods. I saw a hedge of dog roses, and I said to my darling, "Laurette, look at those dog roses. If I were a poet, I should compare them to the tips of your titties."
"Oh," she said, "they are less pink."
"I bet they are not."
"I bet they are."
Upon my word, I opened her bodice and we made a comparison. I was right.
A litttle further on Laurette saw strawberries. She began to pluck them and soon had her hands full, gulping them down with delight. I demanded my part of the feast, and she invited me to take them out of her mouth. Our lips merged together, stained with that sweet red juice.
But this game led to another. Laurette began to roll her eyes at me, and I soon understood what she was trying to say.
"Well," I whispered, "lie down in the grass."
When she had done so, I lifted her skirts. She didn't stir, but kept her thighs together tightly. I began to bang my prick on her firm satiny bare belly, and I jokingly said, "Knock, knock, please open to me, Madame!"
Laurette's two sweet thighs gently opened. "Good day, you other little mouth," I said. "Ah, Laurette, suppose we made it eat strawberries, too?"
"So put one there with the end of your finger," she sighed, "and let's try."
"Not so foolishly," I retorted. "It is with the end of my tongue that I shall put it in."
I did just as I said. I pushed the strawberry with the tip of my tongue. Swooningly, Laurette said to me, "Push, push again. Oh, Richard, I love you. It's the nicest way I've ever found of eating strawberries."
Such was my lovemaking in those days, when I was twenty. My heart rejoices yet at the memory of those naive delights and those happy days. Oh, how wonderful nature is!
HELP FOR WIDOWS
It was in the village of Moulin. Imagine a dark huddle at the back of the courtyard, a room with two beds for a traveler and his dog, and communicating with a wooden bridge to another building which was rented out to residents and was no part of the hotel. For this scene took place in a hotel.
We arrived at Moulin, my friend Calprenede and I, and they told us we should go to the Coq d'Or. Well, there wasn't any room. There was a festival in the village, so we had to do the best we could and go to that hovel of a hotel.
Hardly had we got in than we began to meet our neighbors. The bridge appeared to our astonished eyes, divided in two by a railing. Night was falling. Calprenede, perceiving from one side a light and curious to know whether it was shining in the room of some beautiful girl, tried the obstacle and removed it. We were able to advance over that railing, protected by darkness, and through an open window the following dialogue came to our ears:
"Still on the pot, Julie? Are you sure the cold water is good to calm the uneasiness which makes you suffer?"
"I used warm water, my sister."
"I don't know if that's better."
"Oh, Nanine!"
"Julie, truly, what God has done in depriving us of our husbands is to have muzzled nature."
"I agree with you. I have terrible things to tell you. But let me wipe myself and then I will come to you."
"Julie, since it is you who governs the house, you ought to give me old napkins. The new ones scratch me too much, and I am so sensitive there."
"I feel tickling night and day. I have hot flashes."
"I have unbearable palpitations of the heart."
"Shall we go to the church and make our evening prayer, Nanine?"
"Alas, Julie, we have need to pray."
The light then went out. The two sisters were doubtless ready to go out. Calprenede and I looked at each other. How should we take these two turtledoves without their mates?
"How shall we give these two poor women peace?" I said.
He reflected for a moment and then Calprenede went in search of the providential instrument. We approached the half-open window and we sprang in. There we were in the room. There was a cabinet, and the famous chamber pot was in the middle of the room. We entered the room in which a candle was burning, with an alcove at the back. As I was about to lay the dildo on the bed, Calprenede stopped me with a natural reflection.
"If we act thus," he said, "the two poor widows, when they find this beautiful prick on their beds, will wonder who has put it there.
They will wonder who has come in, they will look for the visitor, and if we hide in the cabinet, they will surely find us. Then there will be cries and terror. They will run to the gendarmes and they will put us in jail."
So we tried to use our imagination. The result of our meditation was that it would be better to go out, having wrapped up the dildo in an honest package, join our two widows at the church, present the package to them by sending the first urchin we saw to give it to them when they left the church, and then go back along our bridge, leaving no trace of how we had come, hide behind a mountain of dirty linen that we saw accumulated, and wait to see what would happen.
So we left for the church. The idea came to us to learn from the neighbors, as tactfully as possible the nature of those two women. The trouble was that we hadn't seen them. Suppose they were ugly? Suppose they were more than forty?
But a gold coin put into the hand of a grocery boy turned the trick. The rascal smiled and told us the two ladies were very honest people, one the widow of an officer, the other of a tax collector, neither with much money, but virtuous, irreproachable, and that the eldest was not more than thirty.
"Only," the boy said to us, "she is a little lame."
"Did you hear?" I asked Calprenede. "One of them is lame. Now we can easily recognize them."
The shop that we entered was exactly opposite the church. "Look," Calprenede said to me," here are our lovers."
Another gold coin decided the grocery boy to serve us as messenger and be as discreet as the tomb. We gave him the package, which, apart from the piece de resistance, contained a letter. As for ourselves, we stretched our legs, returned to our lodgings, refreshed ourselves and cleaned up our bridge, we went to the cabinet and lay down on our bellies on the dirty linen. The two soon arrived.
"What can there be in that package, Nanine."
"I don't know, my sister." Nanine went across the room to close the window and draw the shades. We remained motionless, hardly breathing. Julie undid the package. Then she uttered a great cry and Nanine ran up.
"An organ! A man's organ! It's a farce they want us to do."
"What insolence."
"There's a letter, Nanine."
"Read it to me."
" 'This is a present from two travelers who are sympathetic to two unfortunate women.'"
"Julie, you ought to throw it out of the window!"
"Are you crazy, Nanine? Someone would pick it up and then -"
"Then throw it in the fire."
"It's made of rubber. It wouldn't burn, it would stink."
"Rubber?"
"Look, Nanine, you know you want to keep it. Looking at it doesn't cost anything. The best revenge we can take against the wretch who sent us this utensil is never to testify that we received it."
"To keep it?"
"It is certainly less embarrassing to keep it than to destroy it."
"Yes, how funny it is."
"Are you sure the shutters are closed."
"Yes, yes. See what see those two balls."
"It's awfully big."
"Brr! It frightens you just to look. We could throw it down the toilet."
"Fool, they'd find it in the sewage!"
"But finally, if you keep it, what do you think of doing with it, Julie?"
"Lend it to you, Nanine, so that you won't have to go on using your fingers. This morning I caught you!"
"It's true, I couldn't hold off any longer. But do you really think you can use this plaything all by yourself? However, why is this ribbon here? I have it for example, I can attach it around my waist, attach the object to me, and then -"
"Then?"
"Don't be such a ninny! Don't you understand that if I put it on that way, the utensil would then stand straight in front of me and I could then make love to you as a man would?"
"What a horror! You wouldn't dare, and I wouldn't either."
"I should like to take the trouble to decide.
Eaise your skirts a little, Nanine, so I can see how it would go."
"But you're pulling up my clothes Julie you're taking me by the waist look, I don't want everyone to see me naked you're thinking of trying this disgusting toy on me, I hope! Take it away Take it away!"
"There, it's attached on you. How funny it is! Do you know you're plump and fresh? What nice round thighs you have!"
"Oh, I know I don't at all resemble a man."
"But you could play the role of a man with that thing on, Nanine. Let's try a little."
"If you weren't my older sister, Julie, I'd think I should give you a slap for such a proposition."
"A slap? Go on, now. I'd rather kiss you, I would there."
"Oh, you're pulling up your clothes, too. You disgust me, I tell youyou're putting your arms around me but you're on fire! Your husband Gustave always said you had a lot of temperament. Poor Gustave but now you see our skirts are falling down again."
"So let's put ourselves in our chemises."
Julie sprang up, locked all the locks, including that of the cabinet in which I and Calprenede were hidden.
"Good," I said to him.
"I have my diamond ring to cut a pane of glass at the proper moment when they spend," he announced to me.
The door of the cabinet was indeed window-paned and covered with a mousseline curtain.
We couldn't contain ourselves any longer, so we both got up. We glued our eyes to that transparent curtain. The grocery boy had been right about them. They looked alike, very much indeed, little, plump, round and firm. In a chemise, did I say? A chemise trussed up around the waist. Julie went to open the curtains of the alcove.
"Julie," Nanine cried, "it is you who will be the cavalier?"
"Oh, not at all, Julie said, "it's to big for you, Nanine. I had my Lili. I was there since I gave birth to her. You have to try it on me. Come here."
"Ah, I should never dare."
"You fool! I am going to get on the edge of the bed. Now I am in position. Come here do I have to go get you?"
"Alas, Julie well, so much the worse. You're right. I shall come."
"Kiss me first. Oh, don't be afraid on the mouth. We are seeking illusion. You are a man. You are my husband Gustave. On the mouth now put it in put it in!"
"Oh, you wicked creature!
"Aie! Aie! You're tearing me! I was boasting about being wide -"
"What can you do, Julie, if it won't go in?"
"As your husband Onesine used to do. He didn't get into you right away. First he caressed you with his fingers, with his tongue, maybe he even gamahuched you."
"Julie, I am not going to lick you."
"Then just suck the little buttons on my titties."
"How perverse you are, my sister! Oh, stop that!"
"If you will, for just a minute with your finger. Ah, that's better! There thank you I feel that I am that I am getting wet. Now put the instrument in. Aie! It is going in. Kiss me again. Aie Aie what an enormous head it has! Go on!"
"I am pushing, I am pushing."
"So much the worse. It is ripping me open it is it is way inside Ah -"
"It's my turn, Julie! It's my turn!"
"I can't I can't I'm broken. Wait a little."
"No, no, I'm burning up. There, I'm putting the belt on you. Take my place. I'm going to take yours. Quickly, I'm dying."
"Well, so be it. On the edge of the bed it's your turn now. Spread your legs open, that's it. What a darling little pussy! Oh, if I were a man, I'd really lick you, my darling little sister!"
"Frig me, dear. Julie only with your fingers. You're making me -you're making me spend oh, heavens -"
"I'm putting in the utensil now I'm pushing -"
"Ah, what pain, what torture, I shall die from it, I shall swoon!"
Spread your legs a little more. You'll have reason to cry out now."
"Oh I feel oh, Julie oh-h-h!"
"Cry, cry the head is in now it will all go in."
"Fuck me, lick me oh my God go on again oh God oh God -"
Now Calprenede took his diamond ring and rubbed it on one of the panes of glass in the door to the cabinet till he cut it open, and then gently drew the bolt. The two sisters were lying on the bed side by side, exhausted from their spending, and Julie murmured, "These games aren't as good as real nature, my sister."
"Admit, Nanine, that if there was a nice fellow around now, we should commit a sin."
"Madame," Calprenede said as he advanced, "I don't know if we're nice boys."
"Help men thieves!"
"Ladies," I said, "if you cry out, you'll be lost."
"Without counting," Calprenede added," we shall tell the history of this organ in rubber -"
"Which Madame still has attached in front of her," I said as I pointed with my finger to the dildo which was held on to Julie's waist and which was still shaking furtively.
We got along without too much trouble. The choice between these two lovers fallen from heaven lay with the girls. Julie chose Calprenede, so I became the prize of Nanine. As there was the only one bed, each couple had to witness the exploits of the neighboring couple.
Calprenede fucked Julie on the side of the bed just between the edge and the wall, and I fucked Nanine on the edge of the narrow bed which had so long been watered by the tears of the two widows in testimony of their regret and their solitary joys."
"Sir," Nanine said to me, "I beg of you, don't big me."
"Monster," Julie cried to Calprenede, "don't make a child in me."
"Madame," I said to Nanine, "then lend me the help of your little hand."
"Finish me off with your white paw," Calprenede ordered Julie.
They didn't have to be asked twice. Both of them frigged us, and the same cries of joy escaped their lips when they saw the divine liqueur escape.
A CHAPTER ON DANGEROUS LIAISONS
The Countess Laurence was always adorned, and certainly she needed to be. Little, frail, not only for those whose looks could pierce the skirts and petticoats at all times and divine the salient backside and robust flanks, one saw that she had meager little shoulders, arms that were almost frail, and not much breast. Nonetheless, she had two great charms. A warm, velvety skin like that of a peach exposed to the sun, and a gaze that was almost drowned in a strangely lascivious ecstasy.
Besides, her ordinary attitude belied her eyes. She walked proudly, she spoke with a haughty nonchalance. But who would ever raise upon the Countess Laurence a look of desire? She was well known for adoring the Count, her husband, and scorning all other men.
However, those who were experts with women said, "The thing to do with that young, boy-like nymph is to choose one's moment." I was the first to think that.
One summer day, I happened to pay a visit to the Countess. She was alone in the little salon which opened on the garden. I saw her from afar reposing on the sofa. She rose painfully when I was introduced.
"It's you?" she said to me. "You are just in time to close the shutters. The sun is burning."
I closed the shutters and came to sit beside her.
"And Robert?" I asked her. Robert, the Count, was her husband.
She trembled a little and closed her eyes. "He's not here, didn't you know that?"
I knew it very well, and that was what had brought me there. You know them only too well, these solid virtuous girls, these model spouses for whom the caresses of their husbands are daily bread. How terribly hungry they are when their husbands are away from the house on some trip or other.
Impromptu joys are always the best. Modern morals, bourgeois prudery, have taken much charm from the warm affair of making love. In our time, women wear trousers, and sometimes the trousers are even of flannel. Is there a man worthy of the name who wants to make love to trousers? One tears them off if one can, but the best thing is to yield to one's indignation and throw them in the fire, if it's wintertime. Women do justice to that ignominy.
The Countess Laurence believed that she owed it to her rank to wear trousers. I skillfully took them off. She didn't protest at all. Not a gesture, not a word, not a murmur. And while I explored all her mysteries, her head tilted back and her mouth half open, her teeth clenched. That was how I came to know her warm, satiny skin.
She had delicious thighs. The bottom was astonishingly abundant for so small a girl, and it rolled under my hand. And yet the Countess Laurence remained mute as a statue.
I put my mute into position, I penetrated into her cunt. She wasn't really tight. But I never felt such a bubbling, boiling cunt. I thought I was entering into hot lava.
"Ah, darling," I said to her, sitting beside her after our first course, "darling, you are really dying of desire, aren't you?"
I thought that now the thing was done she would laugh and unclench her teeth and talk. No, she didn't She whetted me skillfully with her somewhat meager hands, still silently. When she saw me ready to run a second course, she rose, made a sign to follow her, led me herself into a kind of pavilion. We found ourselves in a room furnished only with a bed. She kissed me, still silently, undressed, still impassive.
No, she was not an antique statue, and she did have two titties and an abundant backside, which made up for her meager shoulders. "Ah," she at last said as she came to present me her charms, "here I'm not afraid of talking aloud. Here you can tell me all your follies." And in a low voice she added, "We can even act them out."
"Choose," I said to her, "choose among those which please you most."
"Oh," she murmured, "I don't dare tell you. I would rather like to be to be whipped."
"What a charming desire!" I satisfied her at once. I began to spank Laurence with heavy smacks from my hand. Her backside was soon quite red. She wriggled, she swooned, she moaned. I saw that she was frigging herself furiously while I was spanking her. She gushed rapidly, and then cried, "Ooo-o-o, again again!"
I resumed spanking her, she resumed frigging herself. Finally, panting, exhausted, she fell on her bed. I didn't delay in following her, but when I saw her there inert and broken, I didn't expect to get anything more out of her. Then, gliding over me, like a serpent, she put my dart between her titties and began to rub it. In brief, she let me titty-fuck her, that chaste countess! Then we did it dog-fashion, we tried every position. Finally we had to leave. As I was kissing her for the last time, I said to her, "Be sure of my discretion, my dear."
"Oh," she said, "I know how to act to assure that."
I left. I had paid no attention to her words. A few days later the Count returned. The day after his return, I received the following letter: "You have abused a friendship of ten years to do me the last outrage. Neither the virtues nor the reproaches of the Countess have recalled you to reason. Only the fear of gossip from people we both know prevent me from demanding satisfaction."
Laurence, indeed, had taken the best way to assure herself of my discretion; she had me barred forever, and she doubtless had said that I tried to rape her!
END OF VOLUME ONE
VOLUME TWO
MOUNTED IN SILVER
Blanche de Beauvoir to the Marchioness de la Galissiere:
"Madame:
"I saw you yesterday and I love you." The Marchioness de la Galissiere to Mademoiselle Blanche de Beauvoir: "Mademoiselle:
"I received from you yesterday a strange letter. It mystified me. Explain yourself." Blanche to the Marchioness:
"If you ask me to explain myself, it is because you have only half understood me. Yes, I love you, my eyes devoured you alive the day before yesterday. Are you beyond the realm of those prejudiced people who shun the sweetest and most delicious of pleasures? Sweeter because it is forbidden fruit, forbidden because it is the only one that endures. Is it true that you have slept with Princess Eugenie?" The Marchioness to Blanche:
"Are you discreet as the tomb?" Blanche to the Marchioness:
"Discreet as the tomb, burning as fire." The Marchioness to Blanche:
"When I paid a visit to the Princess Edwige, I found beside her a handsome cavalier to finish our interview when we were tired of talking. With three, time passed more gently."
Blanche to the Marchioness:
"If that is what you need to extinguish the fire that I have kindled, I shall procure the services of a handsome cavalier, Marchioness of my heart! Until tomorrow!" The Marchioness to Blanche:
"And he will show himself only when we call him!"
"Do you see." Blanche said to me, having sent for me and having just told me her story, "this Marchioness still retains her modest. My dear, do you know that my whole ambition is to gamahuch a noblewoman?"
Excuse me, my readers. The handsome cavalier which this naughty girl of a Blanche was about to offer the Marchioness was none other than your faithful servant.
I had found Blanche in her boudoir in the process of dressing, and I can tell you that I helped her as best I could. I covered her with perfume and powder, for this presentation. You know that she is beautiful white-skinned girl, quite blonde and deliciously rounded and curved. We were there alone, and I was pouring out a few drops of wine onto her golden-furred pussy. She received this libation with feverish impatience. I wanted to take some liberties, but she stopped me: "Better to save your strength for the future," she advised me.
The maid entered, carrying a package addressed to Blanche. We opened it. It contained a superb dildo in a silver case with royal arms, and this inscription engraved on it: "Edwige to her angel."
While we were admiring this curious piece, a carriage stopped in front of the house. Blanche rushed me into a salon adjoining her boudoir and told me that she would bring me in at the proper time. To this I protested, "Why, the devil take it, not right away?"
She didn't answer, but closed the door on me; I tried to shake the knob, but she had already drawn the bolt. I tried to put my eyes to the peephole. I didn't see anything, but I heard a great deal.
First, I heard whispering, kisses, the giggling of amorous pullets, the rustling of clothing that was slipping to the floor, the thump of shoes that were being thrown aside, and then a silence.
"Naked, naked!" cried Blanche. "Now I have you, Marchioness!"
"Call me whore!" said the great lady.
"Oh, what a gorgeous pussy!"
The sofa groaned. Then there were sighs, furious shrieks. Suddenly there was an interruption caused by Blanche, who coughed, spat, and choked.
"Dear Angel," said the Marchioness, "What is the matter? Did one of my pussy-hairs stick in your throat?"
"I've never seen one so long. Ah here it is -" and the sighs resumed again.
"My love," cried the Marchioness, "is the man there?"
The door opened what a spectacle!
Blanche, naked as a savage queen, led me in. On the sofa I saw her sweet accomplice stretched out in the same costume of nature, her body covered with kisses and bites, her thighs yawning, her flanks agitated by convulsive shivering, her head lying back on a cushion and her face covered by a handkerchief.
"Blanche," she murmured, "I can't wait any longer. Let him come!"
I did. Those bounding thighs and that black bushy forest opened for me, transporting me into a felicitous fury. I sprang upon the sofa, I fucked the beauty. At the first wriggle that she gave me back, her handkerchief fell. I cried out to her, "My cousin Galissiere!"
In her turn, she cried out, "My cousin de la Brulaye!"
"Well, so much the worse, for I I am going to come now." To which she responded, stammering, "Oh, ooooh, I am spending too!"
Climax had seized us both like a bolt of lightening and had spared the natural embarrassment which would otherwise have followed such a strange reunion between cousins.
"Since you have fucked me, my cousin," she began, somewhat shyly. "Since I have fucked you, my cousin," I responded. And Blanche wriggled with laughter: "Then you are of the same blood," she declared hilariously.
However, the Marchioness in a languishing voice asked Blanche where the dildo of the Princess was. Blanche brought in the monster triumphantly, and at her companions sign, she attached it around her loins, then wished to put it into the Marchioness. But the Marchioness was not beguiled by such simple games. She made Blanche lie upon the soft and resolutely straddled her. The enormous dildo would not go in without making her groan, but it at last went in. Then the Marchioness, speaking to me, said, "My cousin, take what remains to you."
What remained to me was her backside. I accommodated myself, as you may think I did. Imagine, the bowels into which I was going to enter were of my own family! As I presented myself, a little briskly, my cousin stopped me with a well-applied wriggle of her satiny backside.
"Don't you really know how to bugger?" she asked me. "Ah, the skill is not only how to enter the bottom of the hole, but there is also at the edge a muscle, a kind of ring, which tightens."
"Yes, it's the sphincter," I told her.
"And there it is that you must stay to be happy. There are the most delicious contractions. Don't bury yourself in don't bury at all."
"Ah," cried Blanche, "what a woman! She knows everything!"
Who would have said to me that I would receive lessons in Socratism from my cousin the Galissiere? I obeyed her instruction. I entered only as far as the sphincter. She made me feel the divine contraction.
"You see that's a bottom kiss," she said to me.
THE PEARL GRAY STOCKING AND THE RED STAR
The beautiful Lamperiere was a widow with shining eyes, quite rich, and possessed of curves as opulent as her bank account. Perhaps she was not as perfect as the Venus of Aries, to whom poets compared her, one would even discover a hint of heaviness in her waist, and her shoulders showed flesh that was somewhat thick. But in return, Nature had given her a pair of superb legs.
At the end of each leg, an alert foot, ordinarily shod in pink slippers, the legs themselves clad in stockings of pearl gray silk. What voluptuary does not know that pearl gray stockings are the very last word of provocation!
At the moment that I present her to you, my dear readers, the beautiful Lamperiere was quite nervous, because I was seated in an armchair beside her, extremely close to her. I had passed one arm around her waist, and I had just passed the other hand under her skirt!
One can be from the finest state of society, and be no less sensitive than the commonest peasant girl. The tickling against which she could not defend herself discommoded the beautiful Lamperiere at least as much, I am certain, as had I been doing it to a country virgin.
"Am I dreaming?" she said to me. "What that's the second time you have seen me alone. You must think very little of me."
"I want to think of you three times in a row without regaining my breath," I exclaimed, beside myself. "Besides, it is the fault of your pearl gray stockings."
My hand didn't leave its post, and the dialogue which followed between the beautiful Lamperiere and myself went as follows:
She: "My pearl gray stockings are no reason at all."
Me: "You must have celestial legs. God is my witness that I wanted at first to take you only by the ankle, but upon my word -" She: "Aie! You're crushing my knee!" Me: "Why no, it's not your knee. I'm caressing you higher. Oh, what skin, pink satin like your slippers."
She: "Yes, yes, I'm pleased enough with my skin. But if you go on like this, I shall call for help."
Me: "Ah, what a darling little navel!"
She: "I shall call my maid!"
Me: "I've already paid her."
She: "You've paid my chambermaid? You monster will you let me go?"
Me: "Good! You can't protect everything at the same time! If you defend yourself in front, I'll take you from behind."
She: "You're a man without delicacy. For whom do you take me then, Monsieur?"
Me: "For myself."
She: "I am an honest woman, and since the death of Monsieur Lamperiere, no man! It's an abomination, a rape, a murder!" Me: "I beg of you, open your dress a little in place of saying senseless things to me. Give me that beautiful titty! Truly, one would say that it is too hard."
She: "Well, yes. But you are to let the rest alone. Here you are. I am complacent enough to take it out of its prison for you." Me: "The tip is of the color of chocolate. I am going to eat it."
She: "No, no. Brrrr it makes me shiver." Me: "Now offer me your mouth." She: "My mouth! Well ahhhh you're making me swoon no, I don't want to no, I won't open my thighs. Your hand shall not pass. You have nails. But you're making me all naked. At least won't it please you to lower my dress?"
Me: "Yes. Why shouldn't I also close the windows and pull down the curtains? I want to look a great deal more at what I am holding. Good God, those pearl gray stockings. You have deliciously nourished curves, my dear. I am going to bite. Oh, what a lovely black muff it is!"
She: "Three fingers are too much only two! Ahh rub more gently what a man oh, my God, I I -"
Me: "You've spent and you're content. Now what shall we do? Would you like to feel my tongue in your sweet pussy's gullet?" She: "Not today for that! No, no, no, no! You haven't left me time to dress."
Me: "Don't let that detail worry you. I love the taste of fruit . . . but why do you try to wriggle away so, my beauty?" She: "It -it's nothing . . . a little pain there -"
Me: "In your abdomen! A little colic, that's all. But if you stop now, you'll be angry with me."
She: "Yes, I will be. Above all, I just won't have you do what you're doing -"
Me: "Gamahuching you? Oh, oh, you must pardon me for not knowing your time of the month."
She: "My time of the month? Who told you? My time of the month -no, no, not yet. If my calculation's correct, it won't start till tomorrow."
Me: "Devil take me if I thought about it. But what are you looking at in the folds of your chemise?"
She: "Nothing! Nothing! I was sure of it!" Me: "So then let's agree that your time of the month won't come till tomorrow. But even if you had it now, my darling -" She: "That's what you say! At heart, you're like all the other men. Women are more loving at that time. But you never take advantage, because it disgusts you!"
Me: "Let me see now . . . ah, true, in the fold of your thigh, there's a little red stain!" She: "What a horror! Let me go get out of here! You'll come back in three days! Let go of me!"
Me: "Bah, there's no use struggling, I hold you tightly. Rather, take off your dress . . . now, naked, with your pearl gray stockings on-on which red drops will fall, it will be charming!" She: "Ah, Richard, if I only thought you were sincere I I'd do what you wanted!" Me: "Look at the proof of my sincerity. Is it hard enough? I'm on fire." She: "What? You'd put it in just like that? Into the blood?"
Me: "I warn you that I shan't even let you keep your chemise on."
She: "But what are you doing? Now I only have my stockings on oh, truly, I'm ashamed!"
Me: "Where shall we go for this lovely little game?"
She: "In the next room, there's a bed." Me: "There's a divan of red silk, and red becomes you. There, in front of the mirror. You'll see my big cock enter your pussy and come out." She: "What a notion you have!" Me: "There, kneel down. I'll go in from behind. See, the mirror reflects your belly and lovely titties. That dark muff too mmm! You have bottom-cheeks made of marble, I swear you do!"
She: "Give me the pleasure of putting it in ahh there, it's going in. Today, I'm wide. It's the blood that comes and makes the passageway damp, but ordinarily -" Me: "Look, it goes in and out, gently, and it goes in deep. See the blood, see the blood! A red star on the gray stocking I'm going to frig you too, darling."
She: "Richard! Richard! Now such ugly words frig me harder!"
Me: "Blood! How I'm dabbling in it!"
She: "I'd like to kiss you, but I can't. . . there, I'll kiss you in the mirror . . . ahh, I'm coming, I'm coming . . . you too oh, it floods me!"
Me: "Oh God ohhhhh!"
She: "Take it out, darling."
Me: "I look as if I've dipped my cock in the blood of all of France's enemies!"
She: "What are you looking for?"
Me: "A napkin."
She: "That blood makes you ill to see now that your lust is assuaged you've only disgust for me now."
Me: "The devil, I'll soon prove to you, when I get hard again, that you're wrong. You'll put my cock back in with your soft hand after I've wiped myself. My dear, you fuck beautifully!" She: "Oh, Richard, Richard, how I love you! Come sit down on the sofa. The napkin you're looking for the napkin will be my mouth!"
ON A THRONE
Being accosted in the evening by a duenna who gives you a letter, being invited to climb into a carriage and led to a rendezvous with a bandage over your eyes, are occurrences none too frequent in our degenerate times but this is what happened to me one night in December.
A soft, perfumed hand lifted off my blindfold; but the room into which I had been led was dark. I felt in my arms a body fresher than the morning roses, hardly concealed in a batiste robe. Kisses were exchanged, and the ritual of fucking was consummated, still in darkness, on a satin-covered divan.
When the act was over, my mysterious lover took me by the hand and led me to a brilliantly lighted and sumptuously furnished room. I saw at once I was dealing with a very great lady, and believed myself to be in the Tower of Nesle.
"I am the Princess of Schleiz-Sodershausen-Loerrach," she said to me. "I have the title of Serene Highness. The Prince, my husband, sends each year a deputy to the Diet, and three soldiers from his contingent to a great federal army. We have in all thirty-one thousand subjects. Our particular army is composed of ten superb men, then a general, two colonels, four captains and eight lieutenants. When I pass in review, I believe myself in a dream; for at last I am a princess yet it is also true that I came to the world in a stable and lost my maidenhead under a hazeltree. My adventures have been singular. I shall tell them to you some day. I believe it is proper to present the heroine of them to you first of all."
"Good," I said. "Your Highness forgets that I already know a little of you."
"Because you've fucked me," she replied. "Oh, that doesn't count. You will know me entirely. From head to feet, here I am." Saying this, she let her robe fall and stood naked before me. "You know," she resumed, "I am rather taller that small. Although when I am dressed I appear quite slender, I've always had the curves I wish and seek no more. My waist is doubtless fine, but well fleshed; my throat is full and pleases the gourmets even the very greedy are satisfied with it, I am told. I can say also that I have the tastiest flesh in the world. Add to this a skin perfectly white and soft and very cold, especially at the region of my kidneys touch it. Isn't it extremely thrilling to cool one's hands on my buttocks?"
She pursued: "I am supple as an eel. You know how I can enlace a man with fetters of steel. Spending doesn't tire me at all, as I shall soon show you. Does my hair please you? Do you like that ardent shade ? Rub your hand over the lovely golden moustache shielding my darling little love jewel, and tell me if it isn't the nicest pussy in all France. Germany has nothing finer. One can't open it without forcing it; it defends itself, it tightens and squeezes, it pinches and above all it burns!
"Do you like my face? I have the tint of a blonde, and you can't be sure whether my eyes are blue, for the shade changes according to my emotions, varying like my heart's desire. The court poet, a bold man whose eyes never fear to clamber beyond the hems of my skirts, has written me two madrigals to prove, (1) that my eyebrows are like the arch of Diana's bow; (2) that my ears are rosier than the conch shell of Venus. I consent to all that, but above all else it's my mouth that is loved. I agree kiss me, my friend. Have you ever felt such savory lips? And the tongue? You will know all this tongue of mine can do.
"But I've told you nothing about my hands. There are none quicker or lighter; they move they glide, they run, they go everywhere. As for my feet, they are two treasures. And contemplate my thighs. Yes . . . yes . . . kiss, bite them . . . they're worth the trouble! I shall turn around. Kneel before my sublime behind. I do not blush to say that it was through lending it to the august tastes of the Prince, my spouse, that I acquired my rank of Highness. The good Prince swore he had never entered a more delicious one poor man! But I've warmed myself up talking so. Come!"
At the same time, she struck thrice on a silver gong. Three maids of honor entered. At her gesture, two of them approached me and began to undress me. I let it be done, confused over so much honor being rendered. The third went to find a golden basin and a fine sponge and began to wash the most secret parts of the Princess. Then they went out. She then flung herself into my arms and, the two of us naked, we exchanged delicious caresses. I wanted to fuck her, but she stopped me. "What is the use of being a sovereign," she said to me, "if it were only to spend the way the masses do!"
She struck again on the gong this one, of gold. All the back of the room rose magically as if it were a curtain; a theater appeared before me, on its stage a throne. She climbed the steps majestically, gesturing to me to follow her. An invisible, delicious music was heard, and from the wings a swarm of admirable girls ran out, scarcely clad in anything more than a scarf wound round their flanks and dancing voluptuous steps. A handsome adolescent appeared, mounted the steps to the throne, knelt before his sovereign and respectfully kissed her cunthole. A young houri of about fifteen detached herself from the group and came to kiss my cock. The princess sank back on her throne and called, "Zenaida, put it into me!" The beautiful slave girl Zenaida took my prong between her rosy fingers and introduced it into the royal cunt.
The young boy stood near us, motionless. Of what use was his presence, I asked myself. I found out a moment later. The Princess, having slid under me, extended her hand towards her young servant's stiff cock, seized it and used it as a lever to hoist herself into place; but once having taken hold of that sturdy weapon, she didn't relinquish it. As for myself, while I thrust home my weapon and jogged in the act of fucking, I felt an agile tongue slip between my buttocks. The lovely young houri was giving me a trip around the world!
However, the dancing continued. The girls had unknotted their floating scarves, so nothing of their charms was hidden from me. Animated by such an enchanting spectacle and by the delicate prodding I received from behind, I furnished two fine spends to my Princess, without either stopping for breath or withdrawing my prick from its sojourning haven. "I shall make you aide-de-camp to the Prince," she told me.
I served His Highness My Lord de Schleiz-Sondershausen-Loerrach for three months, and his confidence in me was so great that he often gave me his wife the Princess to fuck, while he himself buggered her. I still have from his munificence the grand order of Saint-Socrates which is, as everyone knows, a noble order.
But one day the Prince wished to change the disposition of the group and have me take the Princess' place, which is to say, put myself in the middle. I left him.
THE MORNINGS OF A COURTESAN
It was in July, and quite warm, a state op weather which invariably excites me. At ten in the morning I went to little Coralie, whom I found coming out of the bath. She was stretched out on a small sofa, wrapped in a woolen coverlet, and surrounded by her two maids Rosina and Nana, both of whom wore simply a chemise.
From the warmth of the kiss I bestowed on her as I entered, Coralie knew I was in a gallant mood. "You've come to asks alms of me," she laughingly remarked.
"Oh, Madame," Nana said, after verifying that what her mistress had just said was true, "he's got a hard on." To be sure, Coralie's remark, in view of her professional situation, was a charming jest: when a man asks alms of a woman who offers herself for gain, it means he seeks to fuck her "on the house." However, I took two gold coins out of my pocket, gave one to each maid and asked them to pull back the coverlet and to remove their chemises, which they did not refuse.
Both of them were brunettes; Coralie was blonde, rather petite, even a little dumpy, with titties that resembled ivory bowls, well-filled flanks, splendid thighs but delicate ankles and feet such as one finds only in Paris or Spain.
As for her lovely rosy backside, every discriminating male yes, and female, too! had pinched, bitten and spanked it. And she had a charmingly saucy face, with eyes that would lead souls astray. A mouth made for love as well as to laugh in mankind's face while she ate their gold.
"Here," she said, shoving her foot in my face, "kiss the instrument of your pleasure, I'm going to take you between my feet."
But suddenly, I heard a bell ring at the door of her apartment. Nana, naked as Mother Eve, ran off to find out who was calling, and returned in a tizzy: "Oh, Madame, it's Monsieur the Duke," she gasped. "I made him go into the boudoir."
"My dear friend," Coralie said to me as she rose, "allow me to earn fifty louis." Just then the bell rang again, and it was Rosalie's turn to find out who was there. "Another fifty louis," Coralie cried gleefully as she clapped her hands. Again the bell rang, and this time, both maids hurried to answer it, returning to cry out, "Madame, it's the little Lousteau!"
"He's good for a hundred louis, that one," Coralie remarked, "but in an I.O.U. payable when he comes of age. One has to make one's money the best one can when one has to do with children. Well, all three await me. Girls, present to me my friend's lovely cock."
Rosina and Nana removed my trousers completely. Coralie then began to roll between her dainty naked feet that which she had termed "lovely member."
Do you know that the girls of Corinth had a renown for the exquisite fashion in which they rubbed off with their feet their lovers from Athens or Boeotia ? Coralie's feet were as beautifully turned as they were agile. They seized my prick between their two satiny soles. She then ordered her maids to range themselves beside her, one on each side, and began to tickle each girl with a hand. Her dainty fingers disappeared into the black fur of their cunts while her two feet clipped, squirmed, rubbed, twisted round my inflamed prick, sometimes rubbing my balls ever so lightly with her heel, sometimes the tip of her little toe edging towards my asshole. Suddenly, she stopped. "Suppose I told my three lovers to go away," she said.
"Madame," practical Nana suggested, "might prefer to have me ask them to return in two hours?"
"Fool that you are," Coralie replied, "if you want them to come back, tell them to go to the devil instead!" And thus it was done. When Nana returned, after having fulfilled her delicate mission, she could see a white jet rising in the air my spunk surging out.
"Madame," she cried with a consternated expression, "isn't that a waste?"
"Yes," Rosina said sententiously, "one shouldn't cast away the fruit of the harvest, Madame."
Coralie burst out laughing. "My girls," she cried, "do you want to put our good friend into a state that will please you, then?" Dear girls already they were advancing, naked, towards me, their hands outstretched.
"But you're not to touch him," Coralie added, "you must waken him by his eyes, my dears! Come here!" As she spoke, she lay down on the sofa, her thighs open and slightly raised. "Who loves me kisses me," she added.
Rosina and Nana approached together. Nana attained the goal first, and Coralie's cunt disappeared under her licentious touch. Rosina consoled herself as best she could by sucking Cora-lie's titties, and as for me, I frigged myself and licked Nana's bum hole, her bottom being quite close to my face. Cries, sighs, impious expressions announced that Coralie was going to let down her cream. "Nana," she cried, "see if he still has a hard on!"
Nana assured herself of this by sticking her bottom out a little more, and thus encountered my throbbing, jutting prick. "Oh, yes, Madame," she sighed.
In the position in which she found herself, she spoke to Coralie's cunt. Coralie made me sit down in the middle of the sofa and sat on me. In this pose, spending came slowly and a charming pussy tightened deliciously. Rosina was ordered to kneel before us. The dear creature began to lick us both at the same time. A swipe of her tongue over Coralie's clitoris, another over the roots of my prick. I drew it out, and she almost swallowed all of it in her mouth; then I put it back into Coralie's cunt and resumed this charming game. Nana, kneeling behind Rosma, squeezed her companion's backside between her thighs and finger-fucked her.
The bell rang once, twice, thrice. The three lovers who had been sent to the devil were back to seek paradise.
"Yes ahh, yes," Coralie moaned, swooning with her love gush. "After pleasure, business. I am going to earn my two hundred louis!"
What a beautiful life is that of a courtesan! She fucks, she spends, she enriches herself, she has all the joys together.
THE GHOUL
Our loves were honest and gentle. Only wedlock was missing. My little Lucette used to console herself by saying, "I'm your wife in the sight of God." I was twenty, she seventeen. Everything was poetry for us. We spoke of heaven and the happiness of the angels, and when we consummated the ritual of man and maid, we called it "merging our souls."
Our pleasures were made of chaste caresses. In the evening, seated before the fireplace, Lucette on my knees, how we gamboled! If my hands wandered under her skirts, she sighed, "Oh, the wicked man!" And, leaning back on my shoulder, her eyes fixed to mine, she stared lovingly at me while I frigged her. Soon the bed received us and resounded to plaints and murmurs.
If I wanted to kiss her from head to toe, she didn't refuse; only, she blew out the candle. In darkness, she became bolder and gave me everything. But modesty returned with the dawn. One morning there was a serious spat between us because I wanted to stand her naked before her mirror.
We were in love for a year, and then Lucette's family, who lived in the country, called her back all at once. A short time later, I heard she had been married to a captain of dragoons.
Two years later, I was crossing the garden of the Tuileries when a woman passed by. I gasped, exclaimed, "What Lucette, is it you?"
"Richard!"
"It's really you. How is it you're here oh, my Lucette!"
"My husband is in the garrison in Paris and I followed him here, of course."
"Your husband! Be silent, you faithless wench," I said smilingly. "How you gave me the air for this captain!"
"But he married me, he did!"
"He married you. What a grand word it is! Well, now, you did what I myself would have done had I been you, Lucette. But may I come to see you?"
"Don't even think of it. My husband's awfully jealous!"
"He would pierce me with the point of his saber, no doubt. Sh, Lucette, if I dared ask you to come to my place!"
"My God," she said, "there's no need to beg me very hard. I want to talk with you, Richard."
For a moment, there was a flash in those soft, lovely eyes always so humid and ardent. I took her arm in mine and we arrived at my lodging, chattering away and laughing as we talked of old, happy times.
Once the door was closed, Lucette gave me the most amorous kisses. I began to think of that poor captain of dragoons. I took off his little wife's hat, cloak, then I made her sit down on a sofa. More kisses. However, my hands roamed all over her. What was my surprise to see her hand her hand that had been so timid in other days! slip into my trousers, open them and draw out what you can guess she did. Well, was I dreaming? She flung herself on that noble instrument and kissed it. Lucette, Lucette, is it really you, I asked myself. What road did the captain make you take to learn all this?
I had just taken off her dress. Her bosom was as pure, her shoulders, as fresh and round as in those happy days of youth. The rest would be exposed not long hence, I knew. I murmured in such a low tone that she almost didn't hear it: "Ought this chemise to be taken off?" She laughed, and it fell. My lips went to seek the cup from which in times past I had been permitted to drink only in darkness. Oh, what a change, what mystery, what surprise!
"Me too," she whispered. And there she was posed over me, her pussy on my mouth, while her own rosy mouth attacked that member which she had scarcely dared touch with the end of her fingers in our golden youth. From the very first, she shoved it to the very back of her throat! What an alert tongue she had, what knowing lips! Lucette sucked with all her soul, with a passionate fury, with sighs, with stifled cries, with wriggling of her backside, with vehement movements all over! My heated liqueur spurted forth, she drank it with delicacy!
"I didn't lose a drop," she announced to me. "Lucette," I stammered, "did your husband teach you this?"
"No, it was the little lieutenant," she said. "My husband fucks me and it doesn't do a thing for me."
"Lucette, I would do well as your husband," I ventured.
But she didn't hear me; she had fallen to her knees, shaking and nuzzling my prick. What a strange passion! Her fingers pressed my empty balls, her tongue furled all around, and all her desire seemed concentrated in the goal of reviving my hard on. She didn't think of me any longer, I didn't exist for her; truly, her thought was only for it. It, being my prick, of course!
Seeing that she hadn't succeeded in reawakening me by these means which did not please me as much as they apparently pleased her, the astounding girl rose and began to straddle over me, pressing my rebellious cock between her charming thighs, and rubbing it with the edges of that delicious cunny. Contrary to many other women, she used the ways and means of nature as an excitant and artifice to arrive at ends which nature ought to rebuke. However, I soon recovered my vigor under her assault, and pulling Lucette to me, I fucked her so quickly and vigorously that she was impaled to the depths of her matrix before she could defend herself. But she was robust; she squirmed so adroitly that her cunt disengaged itself from my sword, and falling on her knees again seized my prick and swallowed it.
Swallowed is truly the word. I was dealing with a ghoul, a vampire! While she sucked me for the second time with the same frenzy, I didn't have the courage to escape her devouring caresses.
"Nothing for me," I said to her. "Everything for it." She didn't even concern herself with learning if I liked it, provided I had a hard on and she had her mouth full of it.
I was jealous of my cock.
CONVENTS IN STYLE
It was in the days of the Empire, a little epoch of cynics with treacherous senses and trembling hearts, a strange epoch in which strange modes were introduced. One took one's daughter to the church and one's mistress to the brothel!
That's what Therese de Charnac told me, I being her plaything and faithful slave. She related to me that the dearest of her friends had been led the day before to Saint-Vigor, and she added: "It's the custom."
She was tall, brunette, passably thin, this Therese, admirably made for the wearing of men's clothes. I gave her mine, I helped her put on her trousers. Then we told the coachman to set out for Saint-Vigor with all haste.
"Good!" the nuns murmured as they saw her enter, "another tribadist!"
"You hear them?" I said to Therese.
"They're wrong. Tribadist? Not yet!"
In the room, there was mingled a strong odor of orris-root and sweat, musk and spunk. It was furnished and decorated in red velvet, brilliantly lighted. Nothing cold or commonplace, not even a portrait on the walls. You would have considered it the dressing room of an attorney. The servant cries: "All the ladies to the salon!"
And they came from everywhere, through every door, in yellow, red, blue robes. Their bodices open to their waists, their skirts rustling skirts held up by a thread and ready to fall at any moment. Then the immodest Venus flood of velvet, lace and silk naked as a worm!
Therese sat down, trembling and confused despite her natural boldness, at the edge of a sofa. The cynical troupe of ladies circled round her, saying, "Good day, handsome boy," and "Make your choice, you beautiful man!" and "Come here, I know what you are I'll lick and suck you oh, we're accustomed to amusing the ladies of the court, we can service you easily!"
And the servant called, "Make your choice."
"Come, my man," said a fat girl who seemed most jovial and ready to laugh at the slightest provocation, "you're just what I need. Only a louis! Why, you rogue, you must be hung like a horse!"
But a tall, ribald lady who wore I don't know why a Swiss costume with her tresses floating to her waist and was called Gret-chen, came to sit down on Therese's knees, and, roaming her hand over my beauty's trousers, exclaimed with comic gravity, "He's got a hard on!" Then there was an outburst of laughter, suggestions and giggles all through the room. And the servant, in a voice of thunder, demanded, "Make your choice!"
At a sign I made to them, Gretchen and one of her accomplices, whose name was Ida, led
Madame de Charnac away and I followed them. Therese murmured I couldn't quite make out what protest and I said to her, "It's the fashion!"
In the room we entered, there was a huge bed completely surrounded by mirrors. Gret-chen went to work in removing her beautiful visitor's trousers, and Therese's teeth were chattering as if she had been taken to the place of execution, for already Gretchen's adroit fingers were tickling her. Ida said to me, "Give us your little present."
I laid four louis on the mantelpiece, and as Ida hurried towards me, I showed her Therese now without her trousers, exclaiming, "Everything for her!"
Soon I saw all three of them naked. The mirrors reflected these entwined bodies. The two prostitutes from the gutters embraced the prostitute of high society. They put her on the edge of the bed. Ida, kneeling before her and lifting Therese's legs back to her shoulders, applied the fire of her kisses on Therese's dainty, rosy asshole, her tongue furrowing the mystic path to Sodom.
Gretchen the Swiss lay across the bed, sucking Therese's tittie buds. Then her mouth descended, savoring that luscious naked flesh. With two fingers she opened nature's own doorway, and seized Therese's clitoris between her lips; my beauty cried, wriggled and called to me. I said to her: "Enjoy, you whore! Enjoy till you burst. Get yourself licked, it's the fashion!"
It was indeed the fashion at court in that era. They claimed that the Queen herself had a secret troupe of maids of honor whose most intimate and deepest charms had no secrets for her. They claimed that armed with a dildo she occupied their premises most thoroughly. What she didn't use for herself was granted to functionaries of the Empire. Madame de Charnac knew this very well, and that was probably why, in a dying voice, she asked, "Isn't there a dildo here?"
Gretchen sprang to a chest and opened a drawer. Dildos? Ten, twenty! The Swiss girl assured me they had been used only on ladies of the court, which made me ask in turn, "Do they have syphilis? I should not like to have Madame contaminated, so to speak, by proxy."
But already the stalwart Swiss whore had armed herself with a magnificent weapon which she had affixed to her Waist and, springing onto the bed, fell upon Madame de Charnac. These women of nobility and high society have, you may say, eyes as big as their stomachs. Yet this artifical cock was enormous, and surely, I felt, must satisfy Therese no matter how big her eyes were. However, it did go in. Ida directed it with artistry. Gretchen pushed in little by little.
"My friends, you're tearing me, you're assassinating me ohhhhh, there I am, I'm all full!" Therese moaned. I heard what sounded like a crack. "Don't complain," I told her, "it's the fashion."
These fashionable games continued till well past midnight. The last phase of the last party was the most amusing, and they did me the honor to let me participate, and here is how.
Imagine your humble servant stretched horizontally on the bed. Madame de Charnac the prostitute of high society is on the edge on all fours, fucked dog-fashion by Gretchen with her artificial prick. Ida, squatting under Gretchen to lick Gretchen's ass-hole and pussy with languorous delicacy, and the great lady herself, bowing her head over my loins, sucks me furiously. Then, raising herself, eyes troubled, tottering, she pants, "Get me dressed and let's get out of here!"
When we had got back into our carriage, I contemplated with admiration this beauty so worthy of her rank because of her lubricity.
"Are you content?" I asked her.
She shrugged her shoulders, "Bah," she said, "it's the fashion!"
THE SHOULDER-OF-MUTTON SLEEVE
"Come now," Cora said, "you're boasting! If you saw before your eyes a handsome young body, gleaming white of skin, offer you his behind, you'd be afraid and run away!"
"Ah, my dear child," I replied, "truly I wouldn't. One has to learn all these things, and "
"Bah," Cora laughingly interrupted. "You love women too much for that."
"That is what I mean to prove to you within the hour," was my riposte.
And while I proved it to her and she wriggled her loins, she said to me, "You were boasting a little while ago, but you don't have many vices and even for once, you wouldn't be a pederast. But oh don't stop now ohh, don't stop!"
After an hour, I'd forgotten our little debate. Two days later, Cora wrote me to lunch with her the next day; a little friend would be there "with whom you'll get along nicely." Such was the exact wording of her letter.
So the next day I arrived at the scheduled hour, and lunch was served in her boudoir, decked out in red satin. Cora presented her young friend, whose name was Hyacinthe. Hyacinthe was a tall girl, white skinned, plump and dimpled, with hair that was the loveliest Venetian red hue you could imagine. The idea occurred to me that it was dyed, which was quite in style those days. Hyacinthe, who seemed no more than eighteen, had beautiful clear brown eyes, with a fine purity of features and a divine mouth. I asked her permission to kiss her, a favor she readily granted. Her fresh breath delighted me. Cora whispered in my ear: "You see I'm not the least bit jealous!"
We sat down to table. Cora caressed Hyacinthe to whom she said, designating me with her finger, "Give him my caresses." Hyacin-the's mouth fused with mine, our tongues rasped together, and I was ravished by such grace and freshness and naive abandon.
"Hyacinthe, give me your tittie to suck," I said to her. At this, Cora, throwing back her head, burst into hilarious laughter, and Hyacinthe followed suit.
I frowned and said, "What's the matter with you?" which only made them laugh the louder.
Then we began to sample the champagne. Cora's eyes were veiled, while Hyacinthe's shone like the morning star. I held her tightly against me, and her hands strayed, seeking the proof of the emotion she was rousing in me. I felt I must render her back that same gracious welcome, so I slipped a hand under her skirts. Oh, what a skin, what finely modeled thighs. I ascended my hand and I came upon a napkin! "Ah, what a misfortune, Hyacinthe, you have on your "I began.
"What do your expect!" Cora laughingly intervened, "it's that time of the month. But I don't have such a problem!" So saying, a glass of champagne in one hand, she reclined on the sofa and trussed up her garments to the waist. Hyacinthe fell on her knees before her and kissed her belly and cunt, while I went up behind Hyacinthe, saying, "What do monthlies matter, after all? Does a warm-natured man stop before this accident of nature? Isn't a little pure blood which runs under the assault of an amorous cock an extra condiment of pleasure?" That is what I said to Hyacinthe, who listened to me the while she gently licked Cora's clitoris. Cora spent and then rose, "You want to bugger, don't you?"
"Do I want to?" I ardently retorted, "monthlies or not, I'll bugger Hyacinthe and you after her, and then Hyacinthe again after you!"
"Lord, let Thy will be done," Cora intoned. She then announced she would direct the warm action about to ensue between beautiful Hyacinthe and myself. She made Hyacinthe kneel on the sofa, while I trussed up the charming creature, and while Cora removed the sanitary napkin, I kissed her lovely backside. Hyacinthe's bottom appeared a bit short, but of perfect roundness, with soft flesh and velvety skin. Then the napkin fell to the floor and all was ready. "One, two, three forward!" Cora cried.
I advanced a trembling hand and I found a prick an enormous prick!
Cora, falling into an armchair, was dying of laughter." Go on, go on," she shrieked with merriment. "Ah, you wanted to taste a lovely boy! But you wouldn't dare I told you, you didn't have the courage. Well?"
"I shall bugger him all the same," I fiercely cried.
She stood up. "So be it, but I want my share. Stop, my darlings, stop! Hyacinthe will do me in front while you do him from the rear."
"No, by all the devils," I resolutely swore. "I keep it all. I must have the shoulder-of-mutton sleeve!"
I entered without difficulty into Hyacinthe's delectable backside, I fondled his cock with both hands, finding it harder than iron. What a strange sensation!
I had buggered many women, but never before a man. The pleasure was different. Was it prejudice that had prevented me in the past? Did victory over ridiculous prejudice render the pleasure sharper and more vehement? Whether yes or no, nature had given me the faculty of enjoyment, and made no distinction between sexes or methods.
I had never squeezed or been squeezed by such soft buttocks as the young boy had. I penetrated him to his bowels, I frigged her feverishly, and his burning spunk deluged my hands. Cora stood beside us, wild with lust, slandering us both. "Pederasts, infamous sodomists! And what about me, shouldn't I be allowed to spend, too?"
Exhausted, Hyacinthe had just sat down on the sofa. Under his woman's dress, still trussed up to the waist, his thighs appeared. Ah, I was no less intoxicated than poor Cora, who had been denied her pleasure. How seductive that young Hyacinthe was! When all was said and only sign of it was that robust cock, I couldn't done, was it certain that he was a man? The help kissing it.
But Cora fell on us like a lioness, and it was only fair to yield to her demands. "Fuck her, Hyacinthe," I cried, "fuck her, then!"
The spectacle they gave made me capable of a second joust. But this time I begged my young friend to leave off his woman's clothing; I had the courage of my crime now.
Naked, Hyacinthe appeared to me as one of those handsome adolescents of whom the ancient poets rhapsodize. The charming boy, burning to please me, wished to bring me a new joy; he knelt before me.
And at that game, he was even more skillful than a woman. No man has ever known complete happiness till he has been sucked off by a transvestite!
I had finished my stories.
My duchess rose like a hurricane and lay down on the bed. "Your stories have inflamed me. I can't tell you what I think of them. I'm burning come to me!"
She trussed up her garments, and her darling, noble jewel of a cunny appeared under its blonde thatch between her straddled thighs. It didn't take long, but I can assure you my Dutchess was truly burning. In three wriggles of her lovely loins, pleasure was achieved.
Then she returned to sit before the fireplace, pensive, her head in her hands. A moment later, I heard her sigh: "How I'd love to see a dildo!"
I didn't answer, but went to my overcoat and drew out the demanded object.
"Oh, how lovely, there it is!" she exclaimed.
She put it on the mantelpiece in front of the clock; the mirror reflected the image of this mysterious instrument, which was enormous; thus she saw it doubly. And she began to undress. When she was naked, she took the dildo in her right hand, and in her left she seized my reawakened prick. "Duchess of my heart," I told her, "the artificial one in front, the natural one behind."
"I'd like that very much," was her answer.
And she knelt on the sofa. Her amber temple of Gomorrah yawned before my eyes, and my tongue at first saluted that shadowy avenue, then I probed my cock against it, while at the time my right hand forced the dildo into her cunt.
"Ahh," she groaned, "you're tearing me in both parts. These are cruel delights, the delights of hell itself."
And she spent like a lost soul.
An abundant ablution of cold, fresh water calmed the fire raging in her after that satanic exercise, and we went back to bed. She slept exhausted in my arms. The rising of the sun creeping in through the only partly lowered curtains, troubled her tranquility. Dreams had seized her, and what dreams they were. "Blanche did it to the Marchioness," she said aloud, for her thoughts evoked an image of one of the stories I had related to her. "Ohh, the pigs Blanche, you do it well there's nothing like a woman to gamahuch another woman!"
Yes, visions of Lesbos troubled my Duchess. Visibly, she yearned to make a better acquaintance with this unknown pleasure. I congratulated her when she awoke and repeated to her what she had said in her dream. "You want to be a tribadist," I chuckled. She only weakly protested this verdict. "By whom should be I be tribaded?" was her retort. "I don't have any friends with such tastes."
"Let's find some," I said, kissing her. "Seek, and we shall find. Duchess of my soul, haven't you any maids?"
She clapped a hand to her forehead. "I have Fanny!" she cried.
Fanny was one of her chambermaids, a fresh, proud hussy like a red savage who, employed only to help her mistress dress, did no other menial task. I cried, "Call Fanny then!"
My Duchess rang the bell. "You shall convince her," she declared.
Fanny entered. "Good day, charming one," I said. "How much do you earn a month to dress your mistress?"
"A hundred francs, sir."
"How would you like three hundred? Take off those sheets and go kiss that golden-thatched cunny of the Duchess which awaits you."
"Ah," Fanny murmured, "I did it for much less to Madame the Baroness de Mentrosh-dorff, whom I don't like at all and I love Madame the Duchess!" She advanced, she was at the edge of the bed, when the Duchess spoke:
"Undress yourself, my little Fanny," came in a weak voice. And Fanny obeyed. She was brunette and robust, firm as a beauty of the fields, although as lascivious as the town slut. When she dropped her chemise, a black thatch appeared to our enchanted eyes, shielding the coral lips of her exquisite cunthole.
However, the Duchess was readying herself. She parted her thighs and closed her eyes. Fanny lowered herself upon her as a hunter upon his prey, and I heard the noise of two expert lips kissing and sucking, then a slushing of a tongue, then sighs, then interspersed words and sighs. The Duchess was dreaming her dream all over again: "Ohh, how well she does it ahh, only a woman can find the right spot! Go on, my darling girl, go on, it won't be three hundred francs a month I'll give you, but five hundred . . . five hundred . . . oohh ahh five hundred! Ohh, you sweet bitch ohh ahhhhh!"
My darling Duchess had, on my word, spent like a man, a pearly liquid glistened on the curls of her cunny garden. She made Fanny lie beside her, she fondled Fanny's titties, and slyly began to frig the girl. "How appetizing Fanny is," she murmured. "See Richard, how hard her titties are and what round saucy buttocks! How'd you like to fuck her while she fucks me in turn with the dildo?"
No sooner said than done. Armed with the dildo, attached round her flanks by a solid belt, Fanny fucked my Duchess. The delicious hussy offered me those two splendidly rounded buttocks of which her mistress had just boasted and I arranged myself to fuck Fanny dog-fashion. I entered, I thrust all heavens, what bliss! That cunt of the chambermaid was like a trap! This girl had what I had sought in vain among duchesses and marchionesses a nutcracker of a cunt. It gripped, it pinched me. And those pinches and that tight case of hers acting like a breathing suction pump on my rigid ramrod, enchanted me. I spent, sagging forward with all my weight on Fanny's loins, who in turn flattened on her mistress. In this movement, the dildo pierced my Duchess to her very marrow. She cried out, we both did, and shrieks of ecstasy filled the room. The Duchess wanted to fuck Fanny with the dildo in her turn. She went to it, she pushed, she trotted and galloped, and Fanny begged for mercy at last.
"No mercy," the Duchess decreed. And new supplications rose, till Fanny fainted away.
Then my Duchess, a hand posed on that other arm round my neck, told me, "Richard, I've found the way of reconciling my love for you with my curiosity in things erotic. Thanks to this dildo and Fanny, I shall spend all I like, yet remain faithful to you. You'll be happy with me."
"Ravished, charmed, Duchess of my heart," I answered, "but who has procured for you all the joys you've just experienced? Didn't it come about through a lover's ingenuity? And that lover now wants his reward."
"Name it!" she panted.
Fanny came to. I ordered my Duchess to stretch out over her. Their inflamed cunts merged and kissed and rubbed. I, placed behind the Duchess, began to penetrate them alternatively. I left Fanny's cunt to thrust home into her mistress's, and I fucked for more than an hour, while they kissed and fondled endlessly.
After which I demanded of my two sweet procuresses of pleasure to finish this service with their mouths. Both knelt before me, each taking turns licking the great god Priapus. They sucked me by turns, too. When the supreme moment came, they quarreled among each other as to who should swallow the last drops of the sacred liqueur and finally they kissed each other, their lips stickied with my sperm.