"Models and Madness" is another outstanding erotic classic, originally published in Paris. Even in the free and liberal atmosphere of the "Avante Garde" Left Bank, its daring boldness of expression on straight and offbeat sexual adventures left the critics gasping. But in spite of the details of erotic stimulation and emphasis with which this story is replete, the story of the attractive heroine is a valid psychological documentation of a young woman's search for love. Rarely have the actual sensations experienced by a woman in eyery conceivable type of love situation been so vividly and truthfully depicted. Eeverything is told, nothing held back -from so called "normal" love to the outermost regions of sophisticated perversion.
"Models and Madness" aroused considerable controversy because of its frankness with sexual and psychological deviations. The reader is warned that even among psychiatrists, the line that separates the functions between the sexes is all too often blurred: the very masculine man and the very feminine woman may have very surprising tastes in their choices of sex partners.
Our love-ready heroine begins as a young nurse in a large London hospital -and soon finds that her male patients have peculiar ideas on how to recuperate their virility. Even as she walks the London streets, or rides a bus she seems to become enmeshed in one sex adventure after another. Her queer journeys lead to the Japanese embassy, to secret temples where elaborate sex rites are practised and finally to an exclusive London dress house. There she finds that the models do much more than dress and undress in the latest styles.
With keen insight, the author shows how despite her giddy whirls on the sexual merry-go-round of swinging London, she dramatically begins to solve her gropings for love. As Dr. Allan Saunders, the brilliant psychoanalyst has remarked on this problem.
"The need for the feeling of being loved from childhood and through sexual maturity had been sadly neglected in both psychological studies and in literature. Although reams have been written on love, very little has been done on making a thorough distinction between loving and being loved. The signigicance of the difference between these two emotional states, and their ensuing sexual problems expecially in women has never been deeply explored.
A woman's sexual reactions to the feeling of being unloved can lead to the most perverse and bizarre manifestations. As a result, her sex behavior can have repercussions which cause serious problems to those who would love her. The receptive female need to be loved and the opposed male drive of giving love, must find normal physical channels of expression. If these basic psychic needs remain frustrated, then we must expect the ego to seek satisfaction in the spurious delights of ovent physical perversion."
Viewed in this light, the amorous adventures of our heroine are seen to be much more than sensational erotic escapades. The author brilliantly shows how sexual desire for a love-object can have an amazing revival, long after it is considered dead. Physical memories of sex scenes and situations one may have thought long forgotten suddenly spring to life from the depths of the subconscious. In turn, the resurgence of these unexpected physical sensations arouse actual sex desires which have been merely been laying dormant.
It will be seen that such revitalized memories, thought long buried, can rekindle the amorous flames of the past. It is apparent, that along with Freud, the author of this fast-moving tale believes that "most men's erections are actually resurrections, sacrificed upon the altar of female caprice."
Available up to now only in foreign privately printed, limited editions, "Models and Madness" is now, published for the first time in this country. This is the authentic, unexpurgated original manuscript not a line or word has been deleted!
Continental Classics presents this frank novel as an important addition to the literature of erotica for the emotionally mature reader.
Allen Lee, M.A. New York City, July 1967
CHAPTER ONE
I charmed all of them.
I noticed their faces, but paid very little attention to them. From the moment I walked into the hospital I felt them staring at me. Young and old, intelligent and stupid, they were desirous of a woman that I incarnated and not the woman that I actually was. It isn't that I'm pretty and have a body that is alive and attractive, but my main appeal was in their imagination. I guess it is true that I far outshone the usual nurse that works in a hospital and my tanned and shapely legs have been gazed upon time and time again.
My eyes are green and my hair is blond. Many have told me that my mouth is particularly full and I represent their ideal of a sexual companion. I have known this too long, for I have learned many things for my 24 years of age. I cannot really say what I think in public for I haven't the force of character to do so. For me, whether is it matter of women or men they are simply creatures of pleasure and their principal aims are the same: sexual delights, egotistically attained.
I have always asked myself what they could be thinking when I passed by their beds and vaguely remarked their lust.
In the waiting room, one of the sick drew my attention.
He was a handsome Latin-type with an extraordinary expression of sensuality. He was wearing a white sheet-like garment, which all patients must don before they are examined. When I walked past, his intrument sprang up to such proportions that it seemed to break through the white frock.
He was truly superb with his thin face and brown coloring. His eyes were brown and glowed like stars. The swarthy man was gifted with heavy shoulders and dark hair that topped his head like the wing of a raven. His hands were large and his fingers long and sensitive.
Because of his presence, the others were like extras in a play and they composed the background.
I tried to hide my sentiments and I made believe a certain obligation to duty was my sole concern. I played the role of a good nurse. And after all, I was an accomplished one. My time was spent in the hospital. And if I could find good sport there as well as my routine work all the better. My patients would usually look very sad when I approached them or they would laugh and after I would pass by, one would whisper to the other; I'd like to give a good screw to that nurse.
And they were right. Here they were in the hospital away from their women and they were overcharged with sperm and their minds were invaded with thoughts of love.
Having the habit of dissimulating my thoughts as I would walk from aisle to aisle, I gave proof of my assurance through the tone of my voice and the carriage of my body. In the corner of the room I spotted my favorite, Gino.
Near the exit door his bed was prepared. He didn't say a word and just waited patiently. I don't know whether the other bed-ridden clients were aware of my interest, but I tried to hide it with my best detachment. I wanted him to know me. But I remained calm and collected and gave my time to the others.
I had the impression that everything was going to go very smoothly. I looked at my patients as though they were the hors-d'oeuvres and that my husky Italian would be the dessert. The stage was set.
Finally I reached his bed. I was quite aware that the others were following my every move with their lustful thoughts. They looked me over with their sick desirous eyes and this gave me all the courage I needed to muster up a good show for them.
I loved to be noticed. A quick sentiment of voluptuousness possesses me when I think that there are at least a dozen men right at this moment who want me. I could almost feel their hot breath upon me. I become excited merely because they are so excited. I don't know what is exactly going on in their minds, but my mind is all ablaze and I invent the positions in which they desire me.
Now I was in front of him. He scanned me over with his languorous dark eyes. He seemed to be suffering. He was feverish and the intensity of his look scared me.
And already this lad had gained my pity. And under the sheet his prick stood straight up softly menacing me. The arm was vigorous and I gathered its strength with my first glance.
"Hello Gino," I said.
"Hello, nurse," he returned.
His voice was hardly audible and I had the feeling that he wanted to put his entire soul in the two words that he uttered. There was even a declaration of love attached.
"How are you today?" I ventured the usual question.
"A great deal better, thank you," he said.
"The doctor said that I'll be able to leave to leave tomorrow." And he said this with a certain regret.
I didn't want to hear this. I was under the notion that he was going to stay on indefinitely and that I would have the time to enjoy many moments of exaltation with this charming fellow. But he was going to leave me, just like the others who had pleased me and who I wanted to keep for a longer time. It was difficult to think that tomorrow his bed would be occupied by someone else. Maybe it would be an old man or a youngster and he would force me to think upon the beauty that was now before me.
In spite of myself, I leaned toward him. I had never before been so close to him. His breath burned me and his mouth hungered to kiss me.
"You're going to leave me then," I said offering him my disappointment.
My words were of no importance and what was essential was my hand which found its way toward the lump under the sheet.
"Yes Miss, unfortunately."
I knew that he also regretted having to leave and it was all because of me. I was cowardly and did not want to take any needless risks. In order to hide my trouble and comfort him, I tried to justify my presence at his bedside.
"You know I am happy for you. You will be able to see your friends and work again. There will be healthy air and that will do you a lot of good."
I wasn't really thinking of a word I was saying. My sentences must have been incoherent, without any real sense at all. All my thought was under that cover with my hand which was caressing the stiff member of the handsome Gino. I stroked the stem and then fondled the balls and then rubbed my delicate fingers around the head. This apparently delighted him for he looked up at me, surprised and enchanted at the same time.
He probably was waiting a long time for these caresses and now they didn't seem natural to him. They were what he wanted and now this reality conformed to his innermost desire.
I grasped his stock and he wriggled a bit and then I saw him bare his teeth and I was afraid he was going to moan his pleasure.
His nostrils contracted and his breathing became heavier and more ardent. I had just wanted to touch the Italian's penis to confirm its reality. The only wish that was in my head was to keep my friendship with him. I saw what he wanted and I began to jerk him off.
But I was risking everything. The rules of the hospital restricted any friendly contact between nurse and patient, what would they think of the love act committed in the ward? It would be a disaster.
Suddenly I lifted my hand from beneath the cover and he opened his eyes in surprise. He seemed to be asking why had I not continued? He had a suffering twist to his lovely mouth.
"I'm sorry Gino." It was all I could say.
He sighed. His friends in the room could easily have thought that it was a sigh arising from a certain pain.
I hoped he would understand why I had to stop. His own deception had caused me to suffer with him. The caresses that I had offered him had even made me dizzy with strange wonderful sensations.
I left the room with quick steps as though nothing had transpired. It was the first time that I had let myself go to such a degree that it may have imperiled my job. If the head nurse had seen me, I would have surely lost my job.
CHAPTER TWO
As I sat in the hospital snack bar, I felt that no matter what would happen I would continue my relation with Gino. I knew that if I did not carry out my desires I would regret it. It wasn't often that I had such a superb opportunity to be with such a handsome man as Gino. There was only one thing left to do, plan for that night. The coffee on the table began to get cold.
The hours that followed were interminable and seemed to grow in size instead of receding to the honored time.
And then midnight ticked away. I knew that my patients would soon be asleep and that I had to wait at least until two.
I spent the last two hours reading a love story and at the same time I fingered myself in anticipation.
When the time came, I cautiously crept to the room and opened the door softly.
The first bed near the door was Gino's. In the darkness it was impossible for me to distinguish if he was sleeping or not. I leaned over him and heard a regular breathing and I dared not to wake him brusquely. I slipped my hand beneath the cover as I had done earlier that day and started to finger his cock and balls. He was soft, and with the skill I had obtained I was quite adept at bringing it to the proportions necessary to permit certain transactions.
Gino continued to doze and the only part of him that was alive was his well-tuned instrument. Either he was fast asleep or he was pretending to be bathed in the arms of Morpheus. His sex was swollen and large and it would have excited the most particular of libertines.
I could no longer contain myself and my other hand slid under the sheets and touched the burning flesh. I penetrated his hairy mass and then crept up to his belly and noticed that his skin was as silken as that of a child.
I continued to rub his prick and was quite impatient for the moment it would be placed in my pussy. Incapable of resisting the temptation any longer, I placed my head under the covers and took his enormous dick in my mouth. The Italian moaned. Was he dreaming that he was making love to some exceptional beauty? Or was he conscious of what was taking place?
Suddenly two arms reached out for me and I was assured that he was lucid. He took me in his arms.
"Ah my love. If you knew how long I had been waiting for you," he whispered.
I was afraid that he might awaken the others and I left his sex to creep up and have his face near mine. My lips met his and we embraced each other ardently. For several seconds and even longer, our tongues entwined in hot search and our hands were active to gain the secret domain of our combined flesh.
His fingers entered my vagina and then slid down my thighs. My thighs gave way to his insistence and I felt the skilled movement of his fingers. He slipped into my wet box. His two hands were working me over and they tickled my vaginal lips. I had to stifle myself from letting go a cry which would have awoken the slumbering patients.
"Please be more delicate," I reminded him.
"If you only knew how much I desire you?"
"I want you, also, darling, but you are tearing me apart. I wish to have my pleasure at the same time as yours," I was sincere.
He did not answer for he probably didn't want to lose time on needless talk.
Already his huge sex was rubbing up against my stomach and touching the lips of my love-nest. I held my breath while he penetrated me with an unusual force. I moaned in spite of myself. I had th� impression that fie was going to rip right through me5 and I had to bite my lips to keep from crying out. I had already seen some large-sized phalli but this one was the biggest yet. He squirmed within me without any pity whatsoever. Progressively I became used to his wide proportions and the pain quickly subsided and gave way to pleasure.
Never had I been fucked in such a manner and with such might. Not only had the marvelous proportion of his member given me a fright, but the ardor in which this young lad made love showed a powerful vivacity for love-making. He had been deprived of women for too long.
"My love, my darling," he murmured as he gave me his powerful hips to hang on.
I was able to read a great deal of affection in his soft warm eyes, thanks to a ray of moonlight which shot into the room. I had always wanted to make love and give myself over to it completely. We were giving to one another not only our bodies but our souls.
Gino was completely made for me. He was strong and he whipped into my pussy with all his being. My nails dug into his shoulders. The pain had left me and I was asking for the joyous even to last forever. I wished to be entirely possessed.
"Screw me, little one, fuck me good," he begged.
I asked for the same in return. We heightened our action and our movement became vigorous.
I overflowed with come and his member slipped in and out with regularity. He was breathing more strongly. Suddenly he seemed to grow bigger within me. His penis seemed to swell and swell. He surpassed my finest expectations.
"How good you are, my love, how good you are," I encouraged him on.
But my joy did not last forever and I felt his larg< dick sink and grow slightly soft as he filled me witl jets of sperm. Incapable of holding off any longer, came in all my glory.
There is something in the final ejaculation which ii almost undescribable. It seems to flow from the mos delicious of valleys and destroys one's cares in on< fell swoop.
I wanted to stop the movement. Doesn't one always want to stop it? But the bodily necessity of freeing itself continues in spite of what we should like.
I was again finding myself near this swarthy lover We seeped in the moments divine and sweet and slept for a few minutes like all lovers should. But thai wonderful inexpressible feeling slipped away, drop bv drop, crumb by crumb.Our drunkeness and ouf voluptousness seemed to die out like a brief candle.
I regained my senses and hung on to my lover in the hope that we could be still and avoid the harangues oj a sleepless patient.
"Good-bye my love," I gracefully abandoned his bed.
I wasn't afraid of becoming pregnant, because I waj in one of those periods where I had nothing to fear.
I left the ward to wash myself. If Gino wished to tell the others about what had happened, I could deny it and claim that he was only dreaming, the poor boy.
The following morning I left the hospital at six in the morning.
Gino was discharged that afternoon and I have never since seen my wonderful lover of that unforgettable night.
CHAPTER THREE
I like to wander in the midst of the shopping crowd. The crowd had an optimism about it that appeals to me.
And there is nothing that excites the desire as much as the optimism and joy of life. When I walk in the vicinity of Piccadilly, I can feel all the vibrations of the passing crowd and I admire the well-dressed men and women who pass my by. I often ask myself if any of them are going to a love appointment. I often hope that this may be true.
What a splendid agitation. Everyone of the young and spruce dapper men could be a lover if he so desired. Many times I am the target of their choosing.
Certain ones pass me and merely look me up and down, others those who are more brave, exchange a few words. I don't like being talked to in the streets. There is something annoying about being accosted in the streets. One is taken by surprise and the reaction is rather troublesome. I have been left disarmed and nervous by this rude treatment which men find amusing.
A strange adventure happened to me along this order.
Two days after the departure of Gino from the hospital, I had just walked out of a film at about midnight. In the bus which takes me home, there remaied only the conductor and an old bum. At the next station, an elegant man of a ripe ege, he already had white hair and blue eyes which paled a bit, took a seat opposite me.
I ignored him completely although he appeared *o be well-dressed and had a fine touch of dignity about him.
I did not even notice that he exchanged his seat and came across the aisle to sit by me. Suddenly I felt his knees against mine. I looked up and saw an impassive face and the man kept the same distant look he had when he first entered the bus. I felt that my imagination was playing tricks on me. His age was in his favor.
I did not move and I must admit that I was curious to see just to what degree this would go. It did not take me long to discover just how far he wanted to go.
All at once, I felt a hand promenade along my calf. I still remained silent and unflinching. His fingers squeezed into my flesh and started to creep up higher to my thighs. Instinctively I brought my thighs together. Our childhood education remains with us for a long time.
I didn't dare look at my fellow passenger because I didn't want to startle him at that point. In order to not set him back in his brazen exploit, I loosened my knees a little.
However, under his stiff appearance, a strong will evidently was working with all its force.
He turned his imprisoned hand in such a way that I was forced to separate my legs. Then with amazing dexterity his hand slipped underneath my panties.
His palm gave me an excitement which I had not had since my encounter with the striking Italian. His fingers worked with art and he found my hairs and the lips of my crack. He had found my erotic zones and I could not resist his handling of me. His superb manner had me asking for more caresses and I enjoyed every passing minute.
For a long time I have taken up the habit of satisfying my slightest whim, blocking off any moral thoughts which might prevent me. I don't know if this is wise and whether it is to my advantage or not.
My neighbor was remaining tranquil and was looking straight ahead as though he was ignoring me entirely. But his finger had gained the aperture of mjj sex already.
His subtle finger was not long enough to thoroughly excite me.
I tightened my teeth, shaking with the sexual thrill of being invaded by a manipulating finger. The bus didj not stop at all for there was no one at that hour who was in need of it. All the better.
My bus companion was not content with the rapporl he was having with me and seemed to wish to transgress further. All men are alike; they want more' and more. I have to admit it, that is probably what gives them their charm. With his free hand, he started from my shoulder down to the left breast and over to the right one.
Then he slid his soft hand to my wrist and took itj gently and placed it over his bulging pants where his dick was trying to break through. He even had to] cover this area with his vest so as to avoid a possible scene. His prudence was measured and skillful.
I was asking myself why I hadn't gotten angry.
This man had startled me and yet pleased me like no other had before. It was his assurance and detachment which won me over. He desired me, that was all and I believe that night my desires were particularly flourishing.
His eyes were avoiding mine and he treated me as an object. Letting go of my wrist for a moment, he unbuttoned his trousers. And all the time his active had was burying itself in my pussy.
He gave me some unforgettable sensations and I had to recognize this man as an artist. After the brutality of Gino I gave myself willingly to this expert and trembled with desire.
I was not only magnetized by my traveling friend, but completely out of my head because of the unaccustomed situation I was thrown into. With a certain impatience, my fingers felt through his pants. My palm reached his mound of flesh,which sprung to the surface. My neighbor's vest hung sufficiently low to hide all this. His penis was long and thick and did not fall into the category of the exceptional ones. It was just average.
I had already been screwed by more powerful pricks and even recently with Gino, I had been at the service of a necker that one could call massive. But But my fellow passenger had other things. He could be called elegant with a certain distinction. He was quite well-made and everything about him was impeccable. This man had the true bearing of a fine artist.
I could not prevent myself from caressing his sex. Even if I had wanted to put it back in his trousers, I don't think he would have let me.
My fingers tingled up. and down his member and I wanted to return pleasure for pleasure. And still he reacted as though I were not at all there. Was this his way of showing disgust for me? I wished to believe that he was simply intimidated by my presence and did not want to be startled by a possible clumsy reaction.
We were engaged in exciting each other and giving over our joy to one another, when the bus stopped.
Some one got on and the bus started off once again.
Without losing his dignity, my partner took his penis from my palpitating hand and placed it back into his trousers. At the same time he dislodged his hand from my sex. He lowered his vest and took the air of one who is just reminiscing. We both assumed an innocent look. It was apparent that neither of us wanted to be caught in this common way.
However I remained not quite satisfied and my desires tormented my body. And he certainly must have felt the same thing. It was he who took the initiative.
I saw him lean toward me and with his eyes burning with voluptuousness he murmured with a contracted smile.
" Let's get off at the next stop.''
Then he got up and walked to the front of the bus. He did this before I could weigh my thoughts and as though he were absolutely sure of knowing what my reaction would be. He was right. But I was obeying my desire more than the actual order.
The bus came to a halt and we descended. He took my arm in normal fashion and as we walked he didn't say a word. It was strange, for this type of silence can be very irritating especially with a total stranger. I tried to reason and find out why his attitude had been like this. He was treating me like a whore. I could understand and then all of a sudden I became intrigued by this new role. He would possess me with indifference and I would know the feelings of a prostitute.
The street was illuminated by one street lamp only. I was in a dreamy mood and I couldn't tell exactly where I was.
"This way," he said in a whisper indicating a hidden dark corner.
We turned into a square. A little ways off we could see a house with an alleyway. At that moment I was startled to find myself in such a setting with a stranger such as the refined gentleman beside me.
But I wasn't afraid. His dress, his habits and his attitude had won me over, and I felt completely relaxed and yet excited.
In the little alleyway, he presented himself and for the first time I was able to see his face. The only thing that I remember ~^ere his burning eyes. Then he leaned toward my siioulder and said:
"I have a great desire for you," as he spoke his hands wandered over my shoulders and breasts.
Even at the height of excitation, he never became brutal. He held me tightly but did not in any way hurt me. I kissed him first on the cheeks and then lightly on his lips. His lips were looking elsewhere. They slid to my neck and his fingers were calmly unbuttoning my blouse. Shivers went up and down my spine. I never wear a bra for my breasts stick straight out and even impudently so. He caressed my breasts and then his face descended down toward the nipples. He nibbled at the stiff points and once again I was consumed with chills.
I have very sensitive breasts; the slightest caresses on my bust cause me to tremble with thoughts of love.
My partner knew how to cup my titties. I even had the impression that they were made for him and that he had an enormous amount of pleasure in fondling them. When his hands went down to my thighs, they remained for a few minutes on my hips, feeling my panties which were tight and silken. He rubbed my thighs lovingly and then his fingers crept upward to my clitoris. I stretched out in a favorable position and I remember that 1 was extremely happy to be there and in that manner.
He laid me down tenderly and raised my skirt to better see my fleece and lower belly. I bit my lip when his finger entered my pussy.
Instinctively my hands searched in the dark for the bulge in his pants. When I found it, I unzipped him with haste and took the joy stick out of its prison.
I gripped it in both hands. Sighing and twisting, I needed it badly and I wanted him to penetrate me.
I spread my legs apart to faciliate the oncoming act. He understood what I wished, but instead of helping me he backed away.
"No, I want you from behind."
I must have shown signs of surprise, for my mouth seemed to drop. I marvelled at his audacity. I had already been taken from behind, but never at the very first time. My lovers always had the delicacy to take me in the usual positions and then work around.
I was too perplexed to respond.
At that point, how could I have refused any request. Besides my companion did not let me make my mind. He took me by my hips and turned me around to the desired position.
I presented him my rump. The scene amused my comical sense. I suddenly had the impression that I was playing some kind of game with him. It seemed as though he was going to ride a pony and that pony would be me.
I felt him take off my slip and roll it down over my thighs. My ass was waving in the night air. My gallant one lowered himself to survey the situation. A finger which slid into my anal hole made me bounce up. His caresses began to multiply and they became more agreeable and wetter.
He licked my behind. He knew how to do this with a superb touch of his fine hot tongue. He even entered my ass-hole with his talented tongue. I would have never believed that a tongue could go so far in.
If my friend had a cock of only average dimension, his tongue made up for it. Besides his maneuvering flattered me. First he was indifferent, that was in the tram and now he was at my rear paying me homage in the strangest way.
He must have been on of those rare individuals who did what he liked to do and when it pleased him. I had to admire this for I wanted to do this very same thing all my life and have only partially succeeded.
I was puffing with pleasure and breathing hard.
"Ah, how well you know how to please me."
His tongue reached in and out. I wanted more. My temperament leaned toward the thoughts of brutalization and I wanted something strong and penetrating.
"Give me something huge, my love," I lured him on.
I had forgotten that I had seen him for the first time in my life only an half-hour ago and yet I was calling him my love. How ambiguous and how odd are our attitudes toward this thing we call love.
"Come, darling, take me with your sex. I beg you to do so. I am dying with desire," I offered.
In order to hasten his decision, I decided to excite him with some dirty sentences for I know how sensitive men are to this type of language.
"Come in me, open with your big prick in my hot ass.. I can no longer hold back... Stick me with your love cock."
I even pushed myself forward to release his tongue. His hands gripped my hips and I was in a hurry to feel his intrument penetrate. I was shaking with delight.
Finally his member circled my hairy cunt and there it was, the wonderful dick of man which would fill me with hope and fear. I knew that this monstrous thing could bring me the desire and pleasure I so ardently desired.
I could feel his fingers opening my ass-hole in order to get the tip of his cock in. My whole ass seemed to be aflame. I wasn't in the habit of being stuck by such a good-sized penis especially in my ass-hole.
"You're going to rip me open," I said hoping this would take effect.
But little by little we passed from sufferance to sufferance in this act of penetrating my flowering derriere. It wasn't long that his dong pushed to the very bottom and I had the impression that I was being invaded by a celestial delight. I did not know when it was going to end, this excellent creeping thick snake.
I was so well taken by my lover that one could only say, although it is vulgarly put, that T was admirably screwed in the ass. Never could I have thought in my wildest dreams that this form could bring in such delightful sensations.
The first time out I was taken from behind. What a pleasant suprise. It is quite true that a woman wants to be dominated by a man, completely destroyed by him.
Screwed in the ass, I had seen myself conquered, incapable of the slightest resistance.
The normal position brings two people together, unites their common love bond, but the position from behind is depersonalized and one had the impression of being denied by the other.
This second idea can be as exciting as the first. Where the first position is modest and shameful the second is perverse and skillfully performed. The second way cannot be seen by either partner, each one recieves his own degree of pleasure in his own personal way. Perverse because it is unusual and strikes everyone as being egotistically original. After all, man has names for all things. Perhaps the first way could also be deemed as perverse, depending on one's experience and outlook.
It is only now I can tell about the pleasure I had. But when I was in its throes, I was living the folly and scandal of a debauchee. I gave into his character happily.
While he was pumping away, he gripped my hips and pressed his prick deeper within me. His joy must have been immense, for he groaned with happiness at each heavy thrust.
He shouted a few incoherent words between his clenched teeth. He breathed hard and I could feel his testicles press up against my bare bottom. They seemed to beat a rhythm everytime he would seek to plunge his dick to the bottom of my apricot.
His fine stick made me shake and cry with emotion. My flesh was hot and like a flame that was encircling his log. His muscle was giving me form in the same way a transparent vase is formed by a glass blower.
I was only a mass of incoherent human melody. He was playing his clarinet within me. He was working me over with a terrible fury. He encouraged me as well as he insulted me, and he foamed like a bitch in heat.
"I am going to come, you whore," he murmured in his rage. "You are going to kill me, I can't hold back any longer you filthy bitch."
It seemed as though he was holding me responsible for the storm that was over taking him. I was no longer his victim, but now, for him, I became his executioner. He was receiving his just punishment and what a delightful way to die that was.
I remained there with his large cock embedded in my stretched-out ass-hole. I wanted to drink everything in and I waited attentively.
"You dirty bitch," he whistled. "Do something. Answer back." he commanded.
I was accustomed to his plowed sex and the moment he attacked me I began to buck like a bronco. He wanted to hasten his orgasm.
I obeyed him and his prick pushed in deeper to my thrusts and he slipped into the dark mystery of my anal region. I had to bit my lip for he was taking every inch of me.
I puffed and puffed and I felt my kettle of hot blood boil, approaching the red-hot climax.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" my lover informed me. And then he turned and was gripped by a cramp of delight and let out a horrible moan which he declared to the night.
Right at that moment I didn't feel a thing, and then uddenly a spurt of sperm flowed within. I felt the gelatinous fluid leap in my pussy by little jets and then roll down my thighs.
This is what I needed to increase my voluptuous urgings. I had thought of how each day I carefully clean this rear region and take special pains in its propriety. And now it was being flooded with some mysterious juice. This disgusting sticky substance would enable me to gain vengeance and mock social habits to its just degree.
The pleasure of this obscene act excited me to such A high pitch that I attained my orgasm. I groaned and tossed in the raging storm that was gripping me.
1 sensed a hundred throbbing delights and the night invaded me and cooled my ecstasy after a few minutes.
Behind me, my night companion was wiping his dick off with his handkerchief. In order to establish a tie i politely asked him if he could pass his handkerchief over to me.
He looked me over as though he were seeing me for the first time. Now that he had returned to reality, he must have thought that he was looking at another girl and not the one that he accosted in the bus.
He smiled and handed me his sperm-wet handkerchief. I don't like those minutes right after the love act. For men have no desire for women after their pleasure and they often feel disgusted and blame the women for their low feeling.
Since we were still feeling the marvelous sensations of the night, my friend took the trouble to be considerate. He was interested in the condition of my cheeks and inspected this area with keen concern.
Slowly my heat cooled off, and I realized that I was with a complete stranger. I looked into his face and at his graying hair. I noticed that his eyes no longer shone with wild delight but were now blue metallic cold steel.
I put on my slip which had flown in the air during our stormy interlude. Deep down, I felt amused by this odd adventure, but I could not discover what he was feeling. His face had no expression which would give me a clue.
We left the area and it was a little afterwards that I learned the name of my ex-lover. He was called George Monk and he was a writer. He introduced himself in a rather original fashion. Presenting first of all his cock instead of his visiting card. I guessed that what would be our next move together would not be devoid of a certain amount of humor.
"What I like about you is that you're very natural and spontaneous," he flattered me. "You're not the kind that holds back. You follow your own inclinations, your own desires. You are above the stupid morality of the crowd. I must admit that you have given me a great deal of pleasure and I thank you for it."
We were walking across a bridge and the wind blew up my skirt.
My night companion was not telling me anything that I did not already know. We were of the same type and he did not need to congratulate my libertinism. But Mr. Monk did not only have a seductive voice but he was gifted with soft talented lips. He seemed to have had a great deal of experience and he related some wild and fantastic events that he had lived. His charm as well as his intellect was captivating, but it could not equal his talent as a lover. I had known this from my own experience.
CHAPTER FOUR
At our second rendezvous, George the writer asked me if I would like to accompany him to his friend's house, a certain Mr. Kyoto, who had an important position with the Japanese embassy.
I accepted with pleasure and we drove through Grosvenor Square to his place.
George asked me to take off my shoes before entering Mr. Kyoto's house for this was a special custom that had to be respected.
"You mean I have to start undressing myself before I get into the house," I kidded.
When we got there, I did what I was told and I adapted quite easily to the new customs that were imposed.
Our host received us with numerous bows. Much the same as one sees in many films dealing with Nippon.
Mr. Kyoto was a little yellow man with twinkling eyes and frog's feet at their corners. I liked his smile and his ironic look at the world and the hypocrisy that shone from his eyes. The real sensuality stems from the diversity and differences in partners.
Our host invited us into a second room where we found many vases of fruit and flowers. There were some mats and cushions on the floor. Mr. Kyoto begged us to seat ourselves.
I was highly amused and felt that I had entered another world.
George asked me to follow him to the bathroom, where a hot steam bath was awaiting us. George explained me that a bath in Japan was a ritual of great importance.
I was asked to imitate every move that he made. I obeyed willingly.
Then Mr. Kyoto took off his kimono and we were all in the nude. The spectacle was cnarming. I took the opportunity to size up the Samurai son. He was thin, but not all as I had first thought. His muscles were firm and wiry and well designed. He had the appearance of a wonderful athlete. He must have been very powerful and I was sure that he was a master of
Judo. Despite his muscular appearance he had a touch of softness about him. His member which was in the center of some wooly hair had not gotten hard and was hanging down in much the same way as George's.
The two pricks which hung between the thighs were entirely soft and indifferent. My nudity was insulted, but I was excited by this nonchalance and the woman in me wanted their appearance to be otherwise.
Mr. Kyoto wished me to enter the baths first, as this was the custom.
George took some soap and started to rub me with it and the friction felt delightful. I was covered with a nice white foam. He then cleaned my sex and penetrated the foam into my crack. He was an expert at cleaning off his women and it was apparently due to his ease and manipulation of certain vital areas.
He did not forget to rub my clitoris and excite me a little and to this day when I masturbate I employ a special perfumed soap.
While George soaped me the Japanese looked at me with a childish air about him.
He expressed his joy at seeing me there with him and George bv laughing with his teeth shining like pearls. His joy caused him to get hard. I loved to watch his yellow cock get bigger and bigger. There was a certain voluptous curiosity to this spectacle.
George was also growing hard and it was probably due to the caresses he bestowed upon me.
We started to become bored with the simple activity of soaping one another. George turned on the shower and the soap rolled off our backs. He stuck his index finger in my ass-hole recalling old times. Then our host asked us to enter into a cylindrical basin where we would take a very hot bath.
I must admit I adore warm baths and this is one way I can regain my composure. As soon as I became used to the temperature of the bath, I took some time to look over the two men.
There is nothing stranger than the cock of a man hanging idly between his thighs as though it were an appendage which had nothing in particular to do with the rest of the body. However, one knows that this strange instrument plays a vital role in the art of manly love. But I had never had the chance to scan those wonderful manly pricks as much as I could then, there in that warm bath with steam creeping up the walls.
The penis of the stocky Japanese fascinated me no end. I had to control myself from touching it. The twc men intimidated me enough to kill any possible initiative that I might have been able to muster up.
I sank in my bath and contemplated the two dicks in front of me.
"That's enough, miss," George murmured as he leaned over me to kiss me. "Kyoto and myself are going to take a bath now."
I obeyed without any qualms. The Ambassador and the writer took their turns in the hot bath. After some hot vapors, the shower was turned on and the water covered their chests, hips and legs.
"Comeand soap some," George hollered.
"With pleasure," I showed my enthusiasm.
I was not lying, although I would have prefered soaping the Japanese because I wished to see some new reactions desplayed and not the same ones I had already known with George.
I covered my lover with a fistful of foam and then stretched down to cover his cock with the perfumed soap. I enjoyed immensely fingering his sex and the tuft of hair that reached up to his belly button. I even stroked off to the point where he had to clench his teeth to keep from becoming too excitable.
The attentive eyes of the Japanese excited me. I was forced tn take the initiative.
"Do you wane to be soaped also?" I asked.
"No thank you," and he turned and continued to soap himself.
"He doesn't like to make love to anyone of the white race. He just likes to watch us and contemplate. He prefers the geisha. He is a nationalist like you've never seen one."
"It's a shame," I responded.
The idea that this man did not want to make love to me infuriated me as much as anything could. It heightened my desire and at the same time seemed to cut me in two.
His body was smooth and muscular with a fine stiff prick which perked up like the horn of a rhinoceros. I wanted to grip it and jerk it off. However, I continued to soap George. I wasn't thinking of him and while he was writhing in pleasure under my fastidious soaping job, I really sighed and longed for the yellow prick.
George became excited and brought me to him and bit my breasts playfully. And then he would rub his cock against my belly. He managed to excite me and caused my head to spin.
"Stop," he cried out. "You'll make me come!"
"What's holding you bsHc?" I ventured with a tone of irony.
"Not now but later," he winked.
The action of the water and the changes in temperature cooled him off and thoughts of love took a second order as the men penetrated the cylindrical basin.
We each took a towel that was handing on some metal racks.
We rubbed ourselves with vigorous strokes and then entered another room where a young Japanese girl was awaiting us.
She was dressed in a blue kimono which gave her a childlike air. Her mannerisms were delicate and she resembled a genuine Japanese doll. She was made up and her skin took on a whitish hue. All smiles, she bowed low several times. The rone that she offered me was cut to measure and made of the finest silk.
Then George, Kyoto and myself sat down around a stove made of porcelain. It was filled with ashes, glowing and emitting an exotic incense.
We remained there talking, when Kyoto called the young geisha girl and whispered something in her ear. She came back shortly with a platter and served us some tea. The drink was exactly what we needed. Then a small glass was handed to each of us and the girl poured some white liquid in our glasses. This was the first time that I had ever tasted Saki and it subtly burned my insides.
While the Geisha was serving George, he was busy looking her up and down in his usual charming way. It seems that the Japanese do not get annoyed at this sort of disrobing. Besides she had her hands full and there was no way of telling whether she desired one thing or another.
While George was taking in the pretty girl, I was able to watch his penis grow in size. This amused me and I had to hold back from laughing out loud.
George managed to get close to the girl and he started caressing her thighs. The geisha felt unnerved by the sudden situation and backed away from George's searching hands. But he held on and soon reached into the vagina The girl's patronizing smile left her face and she suddenly seemed agitated and even erotically excited.
She tried to control herself but the sensations of love were too strong and a sigh creeped on her lips. George unveiled her of the kimono and she stood in front of us with her thigh? and hips naked and gleaming.
Mr. Kyoto contemplated the beautiful Asiatic and myself without showing any emotions. From the attitude he seemed to be taking he approved of the outburst his white friend had given in to.
She passed by me and I was able to smell the sweet perfume of the Orient. Undoubtedly she took good care of her body. The doll-like girl finally found her customary smile and backed away with a few curtsies. Mr. Kyoto kept apologizing for the bad food and the bad service and deplored the boring moments that occurred during the dinner.
I saw absolutely no need for apologies and I protested vigorously. George explained that this was a Japanese way of snowing his politeness and was a fixed ritual in all their homes. Mr. Kyoto began to laugh at the explanations offered, but kept on citing the deplorable conditions of his household.
His refinement and delicacy excited me all the more, and especially with the Saki that I was absorbing by the glassful.
I asked George if I could sit beside the dapper Nipponese in order to better understand the manners and customs that exist in his country. He gave me permission to do so and Mr. Kyoto delighted me wiih his knowledge of Japanese music.
The Geisha girl reentered and this time she was carrying a zither instead of dinner trays. She began to sing and of course I was unable to understand a word.
A little later George told me that these Geisha songs were somewhat crude. It appeared that one song was sung in honor of a husband who was lamenting the obscene night he spent with another woman. While she played and sang, George glued his eyes on her lower belly and once again dug his finger into her cunt.
When she finished singing, George became very hot and stuck his tongue up her crack. The little oriental girl closed her eyes and cooed.
My writer took her by the hips and places his entire mouth between her outspread thighs. The girl began to inhale deeply and mutter incomprehensible words. She soon started to tremble all over and with a few twists and moans come to the end of her violent eruption.
George continued nevertheless and his tongue crept around the back end, slipping up the slit of her ass. The young girl incapable of holding herself back any longer grabbed the hardened prick of the Occidental and shoved it into her ass-hole. I imagine that the girl must have been as sensitive to this sort of treatment as I was. She took in several gulps of air while her partner continued to plunge in deeper and more vigorously.
George was not content with his apparatus enjoying the marvelous rear-end of the .lovely Japanese. He took his penis out of her arse and replaced it by his whole face. His tongue was soon deeply embedded in that anal region.
Just looking at this wonderful spectacle filled me with hundreds of desires. In spite of myself, I turned to look at our genial host and found him also viewing the magnificent scene with wide passionate eyes.
He was very attentive and he seemed to fidget a great deal. His legs were crossed as I have often seen the like with statues of Buddha, and his face was calm and showed no signs of expression. His eyes were flashes of little flames.
I noticed that his kimono was loosened just above the knee.
He was attracting me more than I could have ever thought. There was a sensual atmosphere that appeared to vibrate throughout the room. My eyes caught the spot where my host's sex ought to be. I couldn't help myself. An unknown force directed my hand towards his kimono. My face reddened before I understood exactly what I was doing. My hands prowled the area where his sex was probably throbbing like a drum. I finally found his member and my fist closed over his superb cock.
This cock resembled its proprietor. It was finely muscled, supple and solid. It was indeed an athletic dick and one capable of the finest judo.
With respect and tenderness I caressed the yellow sex of Mr. Kyoto who was still remaining immobile.
I could not understand him. Was it true that my ardent passion and submissiveness did not succeed in persuading him to divorce himself from his own dick and feel the pangs of love? What kind of a man was sitting beside me so proudly and arrogantly?
His cock excited me all the more. It literally bewitched me. I massaged it and squeezed his nuts for a reaction. I tried my best to please this man of iron.
During this time George was busy with the Geisha giri. He continued to suck her ass which was wiggling like the behind of a belly dancer. She was in quest of a new excitation and it appeared as though she was going to find it. While he had his tongue buried in her arse-hole, his other manipulating device, namely his hand, was masturbating her rhythmically..
She bounced up and down with bursts of crazed passion. The muscular American knew that she was on the point of discharging and he heightened his caresses always aiming at the hidden corners of erotic pleasure.
Suddenly she let go with an awful shrill moan and her hands waved many butterflies in the air. She couldn't seem to find her Dreath. And then a wild shriek filled the room, as though someone were calling for help. She fell on the straw mat in front of her. She had just come with all her being. George stood over her and admired her. There were signs of love in his eyes. He leaned toward her mouth with kisses. Then the neck and breasts and kneeling he placed her back on the straw mattress.
He adjusted her in such a position that her ass was waving in the air. His two hands opened her ass and he aimed his phallic member at the small crack in the rear.
The young adolescent quickly came back to her senses and understood what he was trying to do. He spread her legs and ass apart and was ready to penetrate her.
"No, Mr. Monk. I beg you not to," she cried in a high-pitched, hysterical voice.
But it was in vain, this effort for consideration on the girl's part. George pushed his weight on her while his hands were dividing the folds of her arse.
"You're going to rip me apart. Take me from the front, but not from behind. I've never done it this way. You'll kill me," she protested.
She continued her supplications not only in English, but in her strange foreign dialect. She seemed to be appealing to our host to come to her aid. But the grea. Kyoto stood massive and still as the Buddha himself. He appeared to be in another world. The only thing that was alive was his sex, which was wrapped in my nervous fingers.
George did not pay attention to the screams of the youngster and dug his penis into the derriere. She stopped crying all of a sudden and concentrated on what was happening to her lower belly and braced rear-end. *
Drops of sweat appeared like pearls on her forehead and on her cheeks. George was plunging his dick deep inside. Her face showed signs of inner torture and tears rolled down her cheeks spreading the make-up all over her moon-shaped face.
From time to time she wailed and it probably signified that George had touched bottom. At the same time I pitied the girl and I gripped Mr. Kyoto's cock as though I wanted to avenge myself. I felt like a solitary human being amidst these men who were either stolid or brutal depending on their shifting moods.
I hated males just then and wanted to be violated like the Geisha. I wanted to share her suffering and be ripped open by a strong sadistic, male cock.
I turned and faced Kyoto who appeared disinterested in the whole affair. He seemed many miles off.
She must have been used to taking it in the ass, because she ceased her howling and changed her tone altogether. She was now moaning with sheer pleasure.
She was no longer backing away from the heavy male instrument, but she pushed her buttocks into his stiff organ.
The little girl was giving George quite a time of it. For he was puffing and his face was dripping with hot and cold beads of sweat. I marvelled at that little ass which was taking such a wonderful dose of male meat.
I once heard that one of the great deceptions of males was in the finding that a sturdy woman did not measure up to a small fragile one much like the miniscule little Japanese servant girl who was swallowing George's hard-on for all she was worth.
The orientals must receive a superb sexual education, I thought, for this wonderful little sprite was pleasing the winsome George, man of much experience and moods. I was in the throes of watching this bestial union and at the same time, I was masturbating the silent Kyoto.
On the brownish straw mat, they resembled two animals who were entangled together. I remembered that it was just two nights before that I was in exactly the same position. I had been caught in the ass ty George the same way and the sight tempted my eyes and sent shivers down my spine. He was big and blond and she was small and brunette. They steamed away with a loud moaning and groaning. I could even see her making love with George and I did not have any illusions or qualms about it. I was pussy just the same as she, spread out to the utmost, my legs gripping the ground and my ass braced to meet the oncoming thrusts.
All thoughts and human sentiment abandoned, tossed to the winds, this thought repulsed me. But the same disgust was trapping me too and rumbled through my body.
Yes, I had to admit it, I certainly must be just like that little morsel of a girl seething with hump and breathing in hell's passion.
Paradise was not for me. I would be lost there. I preferred the sensuality of the body. The example was in front of my eyes. George and the Geisha girl presented my symbol.
When you first set your eyes on a little Japanese girl, she appears to be the most innocent and modest of all human beings. It is hard to realize that these tiny mites know more about screwing than any English debutante. When she gets a long dick in the butt, she knows how to give her partner the utmost of pleasures.
"You fit well in my ass, my love. Your cock can rip me to shreds. Screw me good, don't be afraid. Ah, I can feel your balls banging my ass!" she recited to the white man.
Then she hurled out a mass of insolence which made George to pump all the harder. She was on the verge of coming. Her face became contorted from the effects of the act. It seemed like a mask of some oriental idol on which one could see suffering, cruelty and anger.
Finally, she was overcome with inner earthquakes and she sank prostrate to the ground. She had just reached the supreme moment of her orgasm.
But George had not had his pleasure. He seemed to enjoy breaking into the small slim body in front of him. He must of had the impression of making love with a dead person. The Geisha girl must of then understood her vice for she lay there as a dead body absorbing the assaults of a sadistical white man.
Her arms were spread out and her body gave no signs of life. It seemed as though she were being molested by a mad man.
But during all this time she could not keep herself from coming back to life and suffering a violent attack of hiccups. At least this showed she was still living. The blows George inflicted became more and more terrible and all at once he crinkled up with a terrific cry and arched his back to support the writhing spasms which were possessing his body. He flooded the tiny ass-aperture of the Oriental girl.
The two lovers remained together for a few minutes, then the little Nipponese got up, smiled and began to embrace her tired American.
The two of them put me in such a state that I was unable to content myself with the role of a mere spectator.
I wheeled around toward the illustrious Kyoto. I decided to attack and have him give me the pleasure that I was entitled to. But, alas, he seemed lost in dreams, although his yellow cock was just as hard as ever. At least one part of his body was living. I lowered myself and stretched out horizontally in order to take his delicious-looking cock and put it into my mouth. Just at the moment when I wanted to suck in his,sex he brushed me aside.
I was about to protest, but had to give in to his sad smile.
"I promised that I would never make love to some one who belonged to the white race," he proclaimed. I was completely rebuffed.
"But you're dying with envy to do so. You could find an excuse," I offered.
He reflected for a few seconds and then beamed.
"You are right... Wait for me."
He signaled the Geisha girl who came running over. He whispered something into her ear and she went scurrying off. Not longer after she came back bearing a mask It was a frightful mask of the demons and she passed it to me and motioned me to don the strange falseface.
"Put it on. Hide that head of yours that I may not see it," Mr. Kyoto suggested.
I obeyed him and put on the mask. The holes in it left room to see and breathe.
"This time, do I please you more?" I asked.
"Yes my dear lady. You are no longer an occidental for me, but now you are transformed into an oriental."
I was satisfied to hear this response. Now it would permit me to behave as I had wanted to since I first laid eyes on the wiry Japanese.
I gripped the sturdy cock and sank it to the bottom of my throat. It almost choked me and I did not mind, for I was the one who was causing my own destruction and joy.
I licked it up and down and slowly put it back into my mouth and swallowed a good part of it. I ran the tip of my tongue over it in order to drink in the small drops of sperm that were gathering there. I even ventured down to his testicles where I inhaled his furry mass. My face was lost between his thighs. Every little particle of the oriental man pleased me.
I could have continued to the bitter end and I was ready to reject my own pleasure for his.
He did not let me continue indefinitely. He lifted my face and dipped his tongue into the opening of the mask. He embraced me patiently and with the utmost of passion. Then he moved away to look me over or rather take a fond look at the mask I was wearing. I must have been a strange sight with that hideous mask and a Japanese silk kimono.
I had rather thought that my disquise as an animal must have excited Kyoto who was discovering in front of him the incarnation of the womanly spirit that could dominate him. I was only half human in his eyes. He looked me over carefully. For several minutes he drank me in. He seemed to study all the aspects of the odd animal before him. He set out to investigate by reaching for my sex. His royal fingers rubbed up my thighs to the ruby lips of my clitoris.
His hand was penetrating my vagina and the other was strolling over the mask. He appeared to be worshipping some strange idol. Who was his goddess and how could I become his cherished one? This is what I wanted to be and have him for myself.
He explored my inner pussy and with the utmost of care he buried three fingers inside me and searched my hungry cunt. I can not describe exactly the sensations that ran through me at the time. He became obsessed with a thunderbolt of vague thoughts and knelt in front of me. His forehead went down to the straw mat three times.
The third time he crept immediately to my pussy and began to suck away at it. Mr. Kyoto did not have a long tongue but it was very soft and tingled me like I have never been tingled before. I am not like that group of women who insist that size is of importance. I much prefer quality and refinement, and if my readers can not understand this then I am afraid that I can never explain this particular question of taste.
Certain maneuvers well-treated that occur at the orifice can satisfy me as much as the deepest of penetrations. His short tongue was precise and masterful. He did not tire himself and never asked for rest.
I hummed a tune of happiness, but I did not want to come in such an incomplete way. Although he was pleasing me properly, I was awaiting the thrust of his cock. I was ready for the main dish. In order to satisfy my grand hunger, I beckoned on the meat dish.
"Come my darling shove it in me. Screw me good. I want you inside, my love," I lured him on.
In order to help him along, I spread out with my entire being like a great bird who was ready for a birdfuck. While I was in this position I could make out that the Geisha was sucking George off and this caused George to grow to tremendous proportions.
Mr. Kyoto reclined himself on top of me and had no difficulty in penetrating for I was wet, ready and ripe. His prick was burning hot and I was wide open. This factor accorded us with the best of circumstances. He pressed me in his arms. His stiff member jumped inside of me.
I had to be content with his slow dong for I had no choice at the time. Perhaps I had been spoiled too much by my previous lovers.
"Go in, my love, right to the end," I cried out.
But Mr. Kyoto could not respond to my wishes and I became irritated.
It became futile and I was forced to push the oriental away and call on George.
"Come quick, you'll have to take me from the rear. If you don't I'll go crazy," I begged.
George answered with rapidity and surprised me with his onrush of brutality. He quickly found my asshole and shoved his good-sized prick into it. Mr. Kyoto saw that the other hole was still available and held fast to his previous commitment. He sunk his rigid yellow penis in my vagina and rocked away as George hugged tightly to my hips.
I was filled with the dicks of two men. The vigorous sex of my writer friend and the troubling cock of the oriental upset my cunt. When George dug in, Kyoto became excited and charged back. Both men produced an exceptional sensation within me and their rhythm was entirely in measure and made for me. I was thrown into an extreme state of voluptuousness.
I was being had by two men at the same time and they were so different that they established a harmony that I could not find perfect.
I was super-excited to the point that I almost threw the two men away from my cataclysmic body which sprung out like a fury of lions. I discharged with power as I had never done before. At the same time the little Mr. Kyoto flooded me with his sperm.
George kept coming on and despite all his efforts he could not come for the second time that night.
I slept on the straw mattress that evening in the presence of Mr. Kyoto and the following morning departed from the exotic home with George arm-inarm.
CHAPTER FIVE
George, Monk asked me a few days later if I would like to accompany him to a presentation of womens' lingerie which was to take place in the home of one of his friends, Madame Bayer, a rich owner of a lingerie factory.
This reunion was to have something particularly London about it. I accepted the invitation since I did not have anything special to do that Saturday evening.
In a great salon where the spectacle was taking place, Mrs. Bayer -a beautiful woman in her forties, welcomed us to the reception.
She was big and blond with brown eyes and heavy gourmand lips. Her hips were placed high on her long legs, which showed their muscularity and nervousness even under the long robe she was wearing.
A decollete revealed a wonderful pair of breasts she possessed. Certainly many men must have dreamed of such breasts to suck upon at one time or another.
She received her guests at the door of the salon with great dignity and accompanied them to their chosen places.
When I was presented to her, she looked me up and down with her penetrating eyes as though she wanted to read my innermost thoughts. I trembled under her scrutinization as though I were being caressed, and as though she was discovering thoughts I had not been aware of myself. A bit troubled I sat down next to George who could easily see that my behavior vas somewhat strange. As for myself I did not dare analyse my sentiments for fear of having a revelation that could carry me away.
"I think Mrs. Bayer approved of you," George whispered with his ironic smile.
"That's alright with me. At any rate I don't count on becoming a model or lingerie sales-woman. What else could she possibly do for me?" I retorted with the same ironic nuance.
"You know she is a member of the high society set and even knows Royalty, her acquaintance could be very useful," George hinted.
I really did want to make friends with this fine woman but I did not know exactly why
"You know after the presentation of the models and all the rest, Mrs. Bayer is giving a ball at her villa. Would you like to come?"
"Why not? You know your wish is my very own," I replied charmingly.
A half hour after our arrival, the room was filled with women of different ages, models and fat men who were either bald or red faced and who must have been important clients for the Bayers. Mrs. Bayer walked up on the stage to say something about the art of lingerie and as she talked she demonstrated what she had to say by giving examples. She would ask a model to step forward and would show just where the new creation had gained prominence.
She thanked everyone for coming to this important evening of display and uttered her opinion that the lingerie makers of the world were not only great technicians but magicians as well.
Among some of the models there were girls who displayed international charm. There were young lovelies from Rio, Paris. Rome and even Tokyo. Mrs. Bayer would finger the material and inform her guests that a certain material was created in Italy or France or where it came from and where it was destined to go.
She spoke admirably and well. She was intelligent, there was no doubt about it. This sophisticated lady was gifted with sharp wit and marvelous reflexes and I adored people of this type. They seemed to be blessed with a supersensuality which they are capable of showing every minute of the day.
This woman aroused my physical desires. With her for the first time in my life I had an ardent desire for a woman. Until then males were my only concern.
I was ashamed of my thoughts but they pervaded me just the same. But I didn't have time to continue with such wild and vague thoughts and I focused my attention on the spectacle.
A very pretty model with white creamy skin and a perfect sculptured body came out on the stage and she was wearing the usual light bra and short panties. She strided along the stage as though she were oblivious of the sensation she was creating in all the males present. Ah, the little tricks of females. A few turns to demonstrate the material, as well as herself, and she walked off from where she entered.
After the blond, a brunette with long hair appeared and she was wearing some Parisian creations. She was wearing a tiny corset which was hiding her delicious breasts and the nonchalance she demonstrated made one think of a nymph.
Then a third girl came on to the platform and she was honey-haired. Her entire body was interlaced with a modern radical design -she seemed to be suffused with fireworks for her whole attire was brilliant and blazing. All the colors screamed with joy and the pleasures of life not to mention the liberation of the physical body.
A redhead came on after and she held as her main charm superb rolling hips. Her breasts were practically nude and her frock was so light that one could make out the fine lines of her body. She was decorated in nylon of the finest quality.
The presentation lasted about an hour. Mrs. Bayer had a trained sense when it came to variety and value.
She gave the show glamour and kept it from becoming monotonous. Every creation had its merits and all the spectators were glued to the very spot in which the mannequin displayed her charms.
I received a new thrill from this show. Something I had never before realized. Was it possible that a member of the same sex as myself could delight me and even excite me? Perhaps the very fact that I lived with nurses constantly had never led me to believe that these dull creatures could spread their wings and one day fascinate me.
In vain I tried to explain to myself the reasons for this new passion which was possessing me. It was that night that for the first time I understood that a woman could kindle a passionate flame and introduce me to many voluptuous thrills. I had heard so many things about "fairies" and "lesbians" that I was rather ashamed of my abnormal behavior. I held back and refused to be a victim of my absurd thoughts.
The last of the models left the stage and they were applauded vigorously.
Then George, who seemed to ignore my usual excitation arising from the show, got up and went chasing after Madame Bayer in order to congratulate her on her many fine discoveries.
"I hope you will be with us a little later on."
Our hostess invited us charmingly.
"Certainly, but I'm afraid I'm without transportation. My automobile is in the garage at present," George excused himself.
" That doesn't matter you will be able to come along in my car," she said this and smiled at several passers by.
CHAPTER SIX
Fifteen minutes later I was neatly seated between Mrs. Bayer and George on the soft cushions of her handsome Rolls-Royce. Mrs. Bayer the famed director of the Bayer House of Lingerie was at the wheel.
She was more than just pleasant. She gave me the impression in a few minutes as though I had known her for years. She questioned me thoroughly. What did I do in life? What were my ambitions? etc. She was very open and she had an amazing frankness about her.
When she learned that I was not making very much in the hospital, she asked me if I didn't want to change jobs and she even promised to look after me.
"You are just a young girl. I believe you're intelligent and you should't spend your entire life just vegetating away as a nurse in a rundown hospital," she advised me.
I thanked her and was confused by the compliment. When the car turned sharply, the knee of the charming Mrs. Bayer bounced up against mine. Right through the garment I could feel a burning sensation that did not at all displease me.
"Besides you're very well made, my dear. Now don't say no, I've carefully looked you over. And after all it is my job to know attractive girls. I'm sure George approves of what I am saying. You see, George who already known you is of the same opinion." She was very free with her talk.
I blushed and I didn't want to contradict my fellow companions who were awfully nice to me.
In spite of everything the leg of the complimentary Mrs. Bayer sank into mine and she seemed not to notice it at all for she continued to drive the car calmly.
There was a force in this woman that was almost an unnatural mystic and physical power. I felt it cr�ep within me. Her leg trapped me and I was filled with all kinds of secret desires. I wanted to spring upon her and cover her with a thousand kisses.
Just at the moment when my thoughts almost became an automatic action, George's leg caught up against mine. I looked over at him, but he was just looking out the window indifferently. I was wondering whether he was only interested in the nocturnal landscape. Suddenly his hand reached up underneath my skirt and his soft hand slid along my thigh.
My first movement was that of bringing my knees together in order to restrict this intrusion. Then I would have to wrestle with the muscular writer and finally be forced to give into him. But his fingers where already at my cunt and entangled in my hairy bush.
George Monk excited me very quickly and especially with the automobile's movement. This added to the charm that we already have known together.
I was quite aware of the woman's leg to the right of me. It was impossible to deny it.
She intrigued me infinitely more than my partner. I was hoping to win her friendship for she was occupying all my thoughts. Although George was feeling me up and down, the superb lady besides me was already possessing my troubled soul.
Mrs. Bayer kept quiet, as if she saw or at least could guess what George was doing. I was excited by what George was doing with me, but was suffering somewhat because he was performing this in front of the woman I esteemed. She did not merit this and our comportment was abominable. I was tortured by the idea she might have entertained concerning me.
At least George could have behaved delicately. He was rubbing my clitoris and entering my vagina just to the hilt as though we were perfectly alone.
Fortunately, the lovely leg of Madame Bayer was glued to my own and the warmth she communicated helped me translate the excitation that was provoked by the writer.
I arched back with as much sentiment as though it were she who was masturbating me and as though it were for her my gratification had no bounds.
But George grabbed my hand and put it on his stiff and burning sex. He had the audacity to take it out of his pants even though the night was black as pitch. I pushed him away, but he forced me to hold on to his penis. I didn't want to create a scene in her car so I gave into the perverse George.
He wasn't content to have his member just squeezed normally. No, he wanted it rubbed with loving fingers. Always afraid of creating a scandal, I agreed to his wishes and treated him royally.
In the dark, as Madame Bayer conducted us to her villa I massaged the full-grown prick of the blissful writer.
But if the right hand was busy, at least the left hand was free. Instinctively it crept over to Mrs. Bayer's leg.
In spite of the skillful caress applied by my writer friend, all my attention was directed toward the female beside me. My fingers brushed over the hem of her garment and slowly reached her thighs.
With great caution I caressed the silk hose and the flesh of the capable chauffeur. She let out a sigh and it was a sign that permitted me to continue. With one hand that freed itself from the steeing wheel, she grasped my wrist. Did she want me to discontinue with my loving exploits or was it the contrary -to go on to greater horizons?
I kept up my work dutifully with George and he had a premature ejaculation. My hand became sticky with his thick, whitish sperm. He disgusted me there. At least he was gallant enough to dry my hand off with his handkerchief.
During this time Mrs. Bayer showed unusual discretion by ignoring all the turmoil that George and I had caused.
She pressed her legs together and kept a tight grip on my wrist.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Soon we arrived at Whiteside. Before us was the rambling villa of the illustrious Mrs. Bayer.
We entered a decorated salon exquisitely designed in the latest style. Fine porcelain and expensive fabrics covered the walls and tables.
Besides George and myself and Mrs. Bayer there was the husband of our hostess, Mr. Bayer. He was much younger than she and he resembled a gigolo. He was tall, thin and blond and dressed in tweeds. He greeted us with one of the models who had demonstrated some delicate lingerie.
We entered a great ball room and there we saw the stars of the show. This time the girls were elegantly dressed in the best garb. They were exceedingly attractive. It was a wonderful feeling being among all those lovely creatures. George and myself were not victims of prejudice and it did not matter if we were in the company of elite or the working class.
I must say that the working class in this case was a joy to behold.
Madame Bayer brought me to the center of the group of models and then she questioned them.
"How do you find her, girls?" she pointed at me. "I'm planning on making a new model of her."
The girls were not catty about it, as I would normally have thought they would be. Many of them cheered the idea and it made me feel quite comfortable to see so many of these beauties on my side.
"But we would like to see what she really looks like," suggested a red-head. All her comrades agreed that this was necessary.
"You won't mind getting undressed would you?" proposed Mrs. Bayer.
I looked them all over and I must have reddened a little.
"In front of Mr. Bayer?" I asked
"Oh don't worry about Alan, he is used to such things. He helps me undress the mannequins in the shop," Mrs. Bayer informed me.
"And besides he prefers the strong sex and is quite indifferent to the weak sex," Mrs. Bayer winked.
She kissed me on the cheek in order to encourage me and show that she had a certain affection for me. Her odor penetrated me and made me rather drunk.
Before I had a chance to return to my senses, she began to unbutton my dress. Madame Bayer pleased me so much that I think that I would be capable of doing anything for her. It was impossible to resist her demands, she fed me with such an ardent desire.
Her adept fingers made me tremble and I felt my dress slip to the floor. I was in front of everyone, almost naked except for my transparent slip. I noticed that my hostess had a strange look in her eyes as though she had plunged into an exotic dream. She peeled off my slip and since I never wore any bra or girdle, I was soon completely naked.
My admirers showed interest.
"What an adorable throat!" Madame Bayer exclaimed on leaning toward my breasts and embracing each one.
"Turn around," she asked. "Walk around a bit. Lean back a little and spread your legs," she commanded admirably.
I obeyed without thinking.
She came close to me and rubbed my skin to try to get acquainted. She started to bite the nipples of my teats. Her perfume was delicious and I thought that I could not have chosen a better companion than this grand dame. She checked me over under her keen eye to make sure that all I had was my own. Nothing could get by this woman who had eyes for the trade and probably other things besides.
Her hands slid over my belly, and I detected that she started to lower her hand toward my pussy fleece but she decided against it. She didn't want to be too hasty. I regretted that she didn't go any further even if it would have been in front of her entire personnel. Her very touch thrilled me and I felt my head spin with desire.
"Well girls, does she please you?" she asked sincerely. The response was favorable. They all seemed to agree that I had an excellent body and that it should be displayed.
"I would like to find out where we can fit her in. Please girls, I should like to make a request. Undress yourselves and let me see where she could fit in." She hustled the girls off and waited for them to come back in the nude.
The girls were amused and they departed laughing. They had no qualms in obeying their queenly boss. They took off their dresses and the room was filled with lovely odors and tissue seemed to fly in the air. It seemed like a Chinese festival, there was such a flood of color. Then all at once the bright fabrics dropped to the floor and several magnificent nude bodies stepped forth.
What superb forms and skin and flashes of pussy infiltered the room. Their breasts all stood up proudly and arrogantly. All the girls had something different about them. Madame Bayer indeed loved variety and I thanked her for that. There were blonds, brunettes, brownheads and redheads. An excellent array of young princesses. I loved them all. And now they were all bare except for the little triangular bush that covered their lower bellys.
We were like a group out of a girls school who were about to plunge into a great Hollywood swimming pool. No one was ashamed and there was no false modesty attached. Everyone seemed happy to be there. And if there were any men in the vicinity, well eyes would be popping out just to see this bevy of beauties.
But the mannequins were not only content in looking themselves over. They took active roles and paired off with one another. All the girls were in throes of caressing and embracing each other without concealing their inner passions.
They appeared to have the habit of this sort of relaxation and they used it in a superb manner. Tender names were spoken and they moved into secret corners of the room.
I noticed the lovely redhead creep up to the handsome brunette and cup her pussy and plunge a dart like tongue down her throat.
Their comrades took on the same throbbing love sensations and melted into the various nooks and crannies of the grand villa.
Our hostess and the two men were the only ones completely dressed. Their strangeness in this great room, where there were so many lovely bodies floating around, made them stand out in relief. The two men appeared calm and just seemed to drink in the fragrant air. I was thinking of one person and that was my future employer, Madame Bayer.
All the rest had no meaning for me. I scanned the lovely hostess who was hypnotizing my spirit. I wanted her and I needed her here in such a setting.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She was radiant, profound and lucid. She dominated me and the entire situation. I had the impression that we were only puppets and she was the one who was pulling all the strings. Superb creature that she was. She looked at us like a lion tamer would look at his beasts. It was astonishing that she didn't have a whip in her hand, for that was all she needed. She was not one of us. She was superior and everyone noticed this.
And somehow she condescended to find an interest in me, who was probably the most humble of all the females in that spacious room. She threw me a kiss and smiled warmly. I would never be able to describe what was happening inside of me.
No man ever pleased me as much as that woman.
Without speaking to me, she continued to smile -a smile that became progressively milder. She embraced me and her hand slipped to my neck and kissed me. Her kisses burned into me as though I were drinking some strong potion. It was like drinking vodka. She continued to embrace me and her hand slipped down to my thighs.
We spread out like two lovers. I was a little bit at loss to know what role I should play. A dizzy drunkenness took hold of me and I was devoid of any initiative in the affair.
My partner looked me steadily in the eyes and asked softly.
"Please help me off with my clothes."
'' Certai nly." I was anxious enough to do so.
While I was kissing her, my fingers which were in an awful state of excitation ran to unbutton her. She wanted to help me but I kept her from it.
"No, please Madame, let me. I want to do it alone," I insisted.
"Don't call me Madame, just call me Corrine. I want you to be my friend," she said softly and endearingly.
Finally I finished undressing her.
She remained almost naked except for her bra and panties. She was like a goddess. Although she was a woman already of middle age, she had a figure much like a girl of 23. Her charm was in her sensuality. She made me think of the month of autumn. In that season all kinds of odors are evident and there is turbulence in the atmosphere. It is a season of mellow fruitfulness, as a great poet has said. She surpassed my wildest imagination. I caressed her form and found her skin to be as soft as silk and as sweet as honey. Her skin was of a golden color and the sight the touch and the smell of it dazzled me. I became her slave literally for I was imbued with her loveliness.
I crushed my lips against hers and she must have sensed my desire for her. My hands cupped her breasts and I tried to creep into her bra. Another passionate hand slid under her slip and was searching for that sacred hole. I touched her vagina and it shot thrills up my spine.
Corrine and myself were victims of the purest sentiments. We were not only spiritually entwined, but out physiques longed for one another. We were caught in that strange cataclysm that two human beings often long for. What wonderful destruction can the mad thrusts of an orgy bring about?
She was the most harmonious of human beings for me. I drank her in like a powerful brew. Her hands worked on me like electricity and she was searching my silky pussy hair. When she placed her finger in my cunt, I thought the whole world would crumble. She was masterful and her touch was a tonic. She was less of a friend now and she was becoming my amante, my lover whom I desired with all the strength of my sex. We rubbed each others clitoris and then started to masturbate one another. Her clean well-polished hand was in the adored region of my sex. And I in return was plumbing her delightful fruit. What bliss!
"I adore you," I confessed to her. "Can I ever express my admiration for you. From the first moment I laid my eyes on you, I have been bewitched. You are the most natural and charming thing that I ever knew." I declared all my burning sentiments.
"I also loved you from the beginning," she confided and stuck her finger deep into my moist, hot pussy. I thought I would lose my reason.
It was the first time in my life that I had fallen in love with a woman. And what a surprising pleasure. Here I was bathed in lesbianism, a shocking thing many might say, but I loved her with my entire being.
My new passion was making me something extraordinary and I became eloquent and supreme. Words filled my mouth and they flowed like honey. If they would have been recorded they would have been the makings of some wonderful poetry.
I unbuttoned her bra and let it slip off and then I reached for her expensive and delicate panties, for I had to have her nude.
Her slip became troublesome and she took it off by herself to ease matters. Before me I saw her love nook with its splendid frizzly hair as though it had undergone a permanent by an artist.
Corrine was as careful about her own negligee as she was about the undergarments of her models. Her skin was fresh and perfumed. It made me drunk just to have a whiff of it. But her skin and body were too beautiful for me to bite, although I was dying with envy to do so.
Corrine reposed on the carpet and drew me up to her.
"Come and caress me, masturbate me and kiss me," she ordered me with a voice that became hoarse with desire.
I let myself drift to her side and for the first time in my life, I stuck my tongue up her vagina.
Her opening was like that of an ass-hole but infinitely cleaner. It was of the finest proportions imaginable; and so delightfully wet with her lubrication which seemed to rest on her pussy like drops of dew.
As for her ass-hole, there were traces of excrement but it was embedded within her lovely skin. I found her cunt much more attractive, and richer in matter that was repulsive and delicious at the same time. It made a dandy dish for someone who was as excited as myself.
While I am writing these pages, I am trying to analyse the difference between a vagina and an anus. Now, the idea of making love with a woman and not a man, came as a complete surprise. Stretched out under me with her breasts nude and opulent, arching her back, Madame Bayer clenched her teeth, narrowed her eyes and became almost unrecognizable, crazed by her sensuality.
"Stick your tongue in deeper, my child," she cried. "I beg you... Touch me everywhere. Nip at my pussy. Finger my clitoris... How good it it, but please go deeper."
Finally I understood that I wasn't going to satisfy her with just my tongue, I had to make use of my fingers. Corrine was delirious with desire. I introduced my index finger into her pink cunt and began to rub energetically.
She showed that she was happy with my procedure and encouraged me on:
"That's good, my love... You learn quickly... You will make a great lover... Your born talented... But don't stop... Screw... Fuck me, that's it..."
I was happy to give her pleasure I twisted my tongue in and out and my fingers were everywhere on her gorgeous body. She began to breathe deeply, sighing and turning her head from side to side, but still holding back her orgasm. She got up on her elbows in order to contemplate the person who was exciting her, and then let go off a howl, and still she had not attained the high pitch of the act.
"No, I can't come like that," she admitted finally. "I have never been able to..." she faltered. "It's hopeless every time I try it with a new girl. I need certain sensations of a more violent nature to thoroughly bring me my pleasure..."
And she turned to call some one. It was the redhead who was standing close by.
"Monica... Come here, please..."
Then with difficulty she got to her feet in search of her extravagant pleasure. I stood at her side, waiting planted on my knees not knowing what to do.
CHAPTER NINE
"My lovely Monica..." Madame Bayer murmured caressing the large teats of the fair mannequin... "Please be a good girl and suck my buttocks. I can't enjoy myself unless I'm had from both sides. I need two. And besides Monica you know how to perform your task so well."
"With the greatest pleasure Corrine," ~nd the redheaded lovely knelt at the ass of the great lady.
The spectacle which was given by the two women was truly extraordinary. The first, large, powerful, standing with her breasts thrust forward and her rear arched and the second, fiery,titties and nervous thighs bent in such a way that one could not see her head, but only the V-shaped fleece she exposed between her two legs.
I could guess when Monica reached the aperture of Mrs. Bayer's ass-hole. Corrine tightened up with joy and Monica lapped away like a dog licking the platter clean. She must have found the rear end to her liking, and gave real happiness to her boss who was moaning with delight.
But Mrs. Bayer did not allow me to merely assist at this spectacle and with her two hands she pushed my head down toward her hairy cunt.
"What are you thinking about, darling?... Do what you were doing before..."
I was too feverish to refuse the job which presented far greater joy than pain. My mouth covered the same area as before and my tongue caressed her viginal lips.
Taken from the two sides, the boss of the greatest of all London's negligee factories boiled and puffed without regaining her senses.
As for myself I was having a double pleasure.
First of all, I was watching two women going through a ritual which I had never seen before, and secondly, it was the first time that I had ever lapped up a clitoris in such a way as this. And her clitoris tasted like chewing-gum mixed with a grain of coffee. Besides I was beginning to discover her sensual rhythm and her heights of voluptuousness. Corrine was besides herself. She couldn't utter a word or command her reflexes. She was capable of only moaning and wailing in the throes of animal delight. And soon, something of an extaordinary nature happened.
While I was sucking the sex of the celebrated Mrs. Bayer, my sex was not touched, that is, not used at all. I was too busy with my chores to think of this lack. It is true that when I suck off the dick of a man, I am usually caressed and fingered. But this time I so lost myself in the fascination of the scene before my eyes that I forgot this pleasing sensation.
However, while I was penetrating the vagina of my employer, someone crept toward my posterior and began to nibble at my lower belly.
The licking and caresses continued.
I looked around and found that it was. the charming brunette, Simone, who was lying on the plush carpet between her boss and myself in order to suck my pussy. Madame Bayer was quite able to contemplate this little scene which I don't think displeased her. And since she encouraged her employee, I was sure that she was the one who designated the roles.
"Very good, Simone... You're superb... Lick her cunt... I love to see it... She is going to savor my pussy and at the same time you have hers..."
Madame Bayer was literally out of this world and her excitement increased considerably. Simone had a powerful tongue which penetrated quite far. In spite of the many times I have been made love to in that manner, I had never encountered such a splendid master of this particular talent.
I responded by rolling my belly and her caresses were repeated one after the other. Mrs. Corrine Bayer revealed her true age by her perversity and her need of special means of stimulation and yet this did not appear to be sufficient enough for her.
"Your tongue isn't enough, Monica, to bring me to a climax. My behind is suffering. Your licking is too weak forme.."
Corrine was criticizing us in the same way she would have criticized our negligee or the way we were wearing it. She needed something else and did not hesitate to ask for it. Her pleasure was her solo concern.
"Monica go and look for the rubber prick in the bureau and then come quickly and shove it up my ass..."
Her employee did not have to be told a second time. She took away her mouth from her exotic rear-end and went after the instrument as ordered.
She came back with a belt tied around her waist and a big rubber tool which resembled a man's prick attached. A few seconds later she ripped into the burning ass of the merchant of lingerie, whose breath was cut off because of the sharp pain. After all,that hard rubber tool was rather large and thick...
"Nothing can take the place of men," she sighed.
Monica attacked her with the rubber pecker.
I could quickly see the difference between the instrument and the usual tactic of the tongue. With this artful tool, Mrs. Bayer shouted with joy and her belly did full circles in her sexual dream of plenty.
I had to repeat my caressing all the while the tool was being shafted in the rear of the famous lady. I succeeded in the regularity of my laps and licks in spite of the cyclone that was going on over my head. All the while Simone was at my cunny faithfully sucking away.
I would have come quite quickly due to this new initiation and Madame Bayer's startling mannequins, but Corrine was measuring the problem of an affair well-balanced and well-orchestrated. Fortunately Corrine has as many solutions as problems and that gave some sauce to the heated brew. She asked another of her many models -this time a brown haired girl whose name was Christine -to go ana seek another rubber cock in order to take me frou behind. To be taken both from behind and in front, put me in a state of panic but the pitch of my excitatic?.. was so high I really desired the new idea.
My visual attraction must have elated Mrs. Bayer for she turned to a bubbling volcano that was welling up by the second... She was on the verge of coming.
"Here it comes... I can't hold back any longer You're driving me mad... I'm letting myself go... Here it is... Oh my angels... I'm commmmiiiinnnng!!"
And with a somersault, she braced herself and emptied her entire being. She was prettier at that moment than at any time I had seen her. Her body was luxurious and svelte and her breasts were heav� and imposing. A sheet of perspiration covered hCi magnificent body.
When I looked up at her hole and saw a million cascades there, I could no longer retain myself and !, in turn, discharged.
A last cry and I fell on Simone's head who wacontinuing to lick at my sex lips. For a few minutesshe chewed into my sex and then began to trembk from head to toe. She had attained her pleasure too.
CHAPTER TEN
I spent the night in the villa near Whiteside, all alone in a big bed that Mrs. Bayer designated for me. Her large mansion had numerous rooms which were for her guests and I was entitled to one of them as well as her other employees and George Monk. Everyone had his or her private room.
I don't know what the others were doing but as for me I spent that first night behaving perfectly. I passed the night alone.
Corrine came in before I went to sleep and placed a tender kiss on my forehead.
"Sleep well. And don't worry about the others. Those who still want to play can do so...But as for me, I have to admit it I can't make love more than once a day. It empties me completely. I guess I'm getting old."
"No, my darling," I protested. "When the pleasure is great, it is hard to recuperate so easily. It counts as much as two or three times of normal love making. I don't like to overdo it either. I have enjoyed the flavor and act that you have submitted me to.
Happily, Corrine smiled and was consoled and thanked me for not saying anything against her age.
"You are composed of royal stuff," she said. "What you are looking for is the rare and the meaningful."
We parted on these words, happy to have had this wonderful exchange of thought.
During my sleep, I dreamt of Corrine. I crushed her in my arms and covered her with kisses. But when I woke up I was holding the pillow in my arms instead.
I got out of bed, and went to prepare my toilette. I left my room with a flowery summer frock.
A maid was passing in the hallway and I asked where her mistress was. With a smile the maid indicated a room where I discovered Corrine with her husband Alan, who she was embracing with passion. On seeing me enter, they both greeted me like old friends.
Corrine got out of bed and she was standing before me in a night gown and kissed me lovingly on the mouth while her hand caressed my breasts moving down my hips.
"Did you sleep well, my love?"
"Very well, and you?" I asked.
"Perfect. Now I am busy with my husband who has me worried."
"What is the matter?" I looked troubled.
"He is the only man that I really love. Besides ] e him more as a child than asa husband...I want him to be different from me and I want him to be a normal human being."
"I don't understand!"
Her husband Alan interrupted the conversation "My wife who is 'inverted' doesn't want me to be the same. She is a homo-sexual and she doesn't want me to be one. It's abnormal to be normal when a couple is in love."
He began to laugh paradoxically and he made me laugh for I found him very funny with his triangular head and squirrel-like face. Only Corrine remained solemn.
"It may seem funny to you, darling but you're the only male that I'm in love with. I want you to join the ranks of men and I want you to be a real man. And I'll even say, that if you want me to I'll make love to you. I hate to be touched by men, but if you become one, you can have me when you want..."
At that moment, George Monk, the man who presented me to Mrs. Bayer, entered the sleeping room. He was dressed in his pajamas and offered us all respectful kisses. He continued the conversation thai we had started, and explained that he was wellversed on the subject.
While he was talking, Corrine snuggled up to her husband and bestowed kisses on his little face. I felt somewhat jealous in front of this spectacle.
"I can't tell you how much I am horrified by the phallus symbol," Corrine said on grabbing the penis of her husband. "But this pleases me and excites me and however if I asked him to stick it in my crack or my ass, Alan would be repulsed."
Her husband smiled while his eyes rested on George's fine features.
"That man delights me. If he would like I'd give in to all his caprices."
George lifted his shoulders. Corrine came up to me and kissed me and then looked over the two men.
"I don't like to see my Alan suffer so...I understand him so well and I feel that I am suffering along with him, his same desires and deceptions." George contemplated Mrs. Bayer and said: "If you only knew how much I desired you. What a comedy love is. You refuse me and you let me have your Alan who desires me and who I must refuse, and who refuses you and who you love...Decidely the world is badly arranged."
Corrine remained somber in her thoughts and then perked up.
"Let s try to settle all this. If we could augment our perversity to satisfy our desires. Perhaps if we can force our complexities we may wind up becoming simple. I propose that everyone make love with whom he has chosen."
We all looked at her astonished and bewildered. It was too complicated to be explained.
"It's really very simple. Everyone shall make love with the one he would not think of doing it with and at the same time thinking of the one he desires. Use your imagination a little. It's merely a case of exciting everyone involved in one way or another.
"And how would that be? " I asked, "It will be necessary that one of us is entirely devoted; let's say George' for example."
"And what would that mean?" asked the writer.
"Well you would begin by taking Alan from behind." Alan's eyes sparkled. "With pleasure."
But George didn't seem too happy with this sort of proposition.
"And who you propose for me, Corrine?"
"The spectacle of my exciting body. You won't be seeing Alan who will be taking you from behind. You will only be eyeing me. Besides I will do everything in my power to prevent you from being disconcerted. I'll keep you from thinking of other things. And you, Madeleine, you will help me...Come with me..."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I followed her in another room where the handsome lady opened a wardrobe filled with lingerie and another one which was studded with dresses. She asked me to choose one in which I would be particularly pleasing.
I obeyed her and slipped on a nylon bra that was like a gloved hand holding up my delectable breasts. I put on a black lace garter belt and chose a pair of the finest dark nylon hose. Then I picked out a pair of vulgar orange shoes which gave me the air of a wellpaid prostitute. The dress glued to my body and the decollete' which showed off my upper region, gave me the look of a desirous woman.
While I was admiring myself in front of the spacious mirror, Corrine was dressing herself. Once again she became the ravishing creature of a few nights ago. Her elegance was thorougly impeccable.
Arm in arm we walked into the room where we awaited George and Alan. Upon seeing us the writer rose up and greeted us.
"How pretty you both are. Just to see you makes me get hard."
He took Corrine in his arms and wished to seduce her, but she pushed him away with a smile.
"No, not that, please. I'm going to strip in front of you and I'll excite you if you accept to take Alan from the behind."
George hesitated a few seconds, but his desire to see Corinne in the nude again was greater than his aversion for her husband. He finished by turning toward Alan and saying:
"Give me your rear-end old man."
"With the greatest of pleasure, my dear friend," and he turned to lower his pants and stuck out his posterior. His behind was thin and child-like. His asshole was very large as though it had been gouged out by many cocks of different shapes and sizes. It was a true fairy's ass who loved the erotic charges from the rear.
Without even watching him, George unlimbered his cock and directed it toward Alan's back. He didn't stick it in, but Alan grabbed it and pushed it into his anal center. He let out some healthy cries of pleasure.
"Oh, it's good, very good, my darling man. Now go in deeper, please."
George grabbed him by the shoulders and began to attack him, without taking his eyes off of Corrine.
"Now it's your turn to hold your promise," he cried.
Madame Bayer looked at me and asked.
"Undress me and be very sensual about it. That will excite me at the time it will also excite George."
I agreed and slowly started a strip-tease, the same kind that I saw several times in the cabarets specializing in this kind of eroticism.
I gradually took off my dress and unbuttoned my bra always pushing out my hips and my breasts.
Corrine awaited my stripping and then prepared to be stripped in turn. When she saw my gestures and the fashion in which I handled each garment she became excited. Taking off her bra, I was smitten with a terrible sensation and wanted to bite into the lovely rounded teats. She began to wiggle, and I copied all her movements as though I had already rehearsed them a dozen times before.
When I took off her slip, I had to steel myself to keep from displaying my desire. I was consummed with a hot futile passion.
While her lower belly was offered to the dazed eyes of the loving George, I continued to undress and reveal my frizzy bush. The show was fascinating in it's peculiar perversity.
Corrine flipped around and completely tantalized George, while George was stimulated into giving Alan a certain thrill. George and Alan always together were delirious with joy. Alan served as an intermediary partner. What George truly wanted was the lovely Corrine.
Alan who loved it in the ass let out a bray of delight. While the writer charged him in the ass, Corrines' husband looked strange and it was hard to believe he could go through those contortions.
His eyes were half-closed and his mouth half-opened and he was slobbering from the mouth.
Meanwhile George who was digging into Alan's asshole became hot just looking at the ravishing Mrs. Bayer. He must have had the impression that he was making love with her and he was drunk with the idea that he was possessing her, even from far away. He cried put.
"I'm screwing you good, bitch...You have always refused me...But now I've got you...You're mine...Does that please you my little pro? Now you know what it is like to have a real prick stuck in you."
Poor George had lost his wits. He could not estimate the distance and he actually felt that he had Corrine there with him.
But Corrine was a little way off and she was moving around with her new nylon stocking and her transparent tissues. She was perched on her high heeled shoes and must have thought she was making love with me.
It was strange to see how we had given ourselves over to the manipulation of dreams and fantasy. We had lost touch with reality and were swimming in the shades of our sensually lost minds.
Suddenly Alan cried out...
"George, you ass-fuck sensationally...I can't take it anymore...I'mcoming...Ah, Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!"
And George hung on to his shoulders without taking his eyes off Corrine.
"I'm coming myself...I'm flooding you, you bitch...Now you know what it is like to be with a man...No more false apparatus and lukewarm come...Feel the hot sperm of a he-man!''
Emptied of his load, George glassy-eyed, fell to the floor where he remained without knowing what had happened. He lost his head in thoughts over Corrine.
At that moment the door flew open and a few models came running in. They were still dressed in their night-gowns and were more undressed than dressed. Their young faces showed no traces of the day before. They all crowded around their boss. She was completely nude and she only had eyes for me.
Corrine came up to me and kissed me square on the mouth. She pushed her sex and breasts and full body along my contours. She was burning with an ardent passion.
"If you only knew how much you please me! I'm ready to do anything you want in order to make you happy. You can never know how much I desire your pleasure. I want to be the cause of it...only me."
I drew her to me and wanted her body as much as she desired me. And in the corner, Alan who was reposing on the floor cried out...
"Don't be egotistical Corrine. You only think of yourself and your friends. If you really want to make someone happy, you should think first of all of George, who wants you with all his might. You couldn't do a better deed than to sleep with George who has a maddening desire for you. Look how he lost his head...The poor darling...You should sacrifice yourself for one time..."
I heard the fiery sentences that came from Alan and for me they were filled with images. I could see George and Corrine making love together, locked in each other's arms. This vision excited me and sent shivers down my spine.
"Yes, you should give yourself to George!" I exclaimed. "He wants you so badly and beside you promised to do anything I wanted. And nothing will delight me more than watching you with George."
Madame Bayer shook with disgust.
"Are you mad? Make love with a man. With my husband perhaps, but not another. No, I don't think that I could, and besides George has just had his pleasure. He couldn't begin again even if he wanted to."
"Oh don't worry about that. One of us will be very happy to bring him into fine shape for the exploit. We'll make him hard again. And even at that, just the idea that he will have you is enough to bring him around."
I was right, for the writer was starting up vigorously and was licking his lips just thinking about possessing the elusive Corrine. And she finished by accepting.
"Alright, I'll put up with this filthy sham, if it will bring you some pleasure. But only if he takes me from behind and not from front...At least that way, I'll be able to think that it is a woman who is penetrating me with a false penis."
"I'll do anything you ask," George responded with his dick getting harder and harder.
He seemed so happy with the permission that he had just received. He often told me of how he desired her ever since they were in the same school together. He always had a streak of passion just looking her up and down.
The models and myself gathered around him to help him get real hard. We sucked him off and played with his balls. Soon his rod was stretched out to magnificent proportions. It became vigorous and was ready to dig in like a club into whatever was placed in front of him.
Corrine was resigned by this new idea:
"This will be the first time I have ever been screwed by a male. I feel as though I myself have some male in me and consequently I don't like the idea of what is going to happen. But however, I gave my word. Now you will have to help me."
We were all ready to follow instructions and we gathered around her and covered her with kisses. And while she let her breasts be fondled and her cunt fingered, George came sneaking up from behind and spread her ass-cheeks apart. Corrine let out a sigh of sensual delight but tried to hide it just as quickly so as not to show any signs of joy.
"It's a woman who is taking me from behind with her false prick, isn't it so?"
"Yes." We all joined in.
"It's you Monica who is screwing me?"
"Yes my love," Monica responded while caressing Corrine's back.
George took his time tasting his flesh which he desired for such a long time. The sight of Corrine's lovely neck, shoulders and shoulder blades as well .as her shapely hips and opulent back caused George to get extremely excited. He pressed the hips of the great Lesbian and attacked her with his most ardent force. He puffed and moaned and although he had just come a few minutes ago, he was ready to come again, this time in the ass hole of the woman he loved.
Corrine breathed more rapidly and asked one of her mannequins to suck her vagina good, specially when the activity reached a driving pitch. The spectacle became a passionate one. George leaned toward her and bit her back. Corrine sighed and begged:
''That's it Monica...Good...Bite me."
George must have remembered that he was in front or rather in back of the woman who had never let him touch her and this thought must have heightened his pleasure. Incapable of hiding his delight and tremendous glee, he bellowed and screeched and then all at once he pressed against his partner's back and discharged into her ass-hole.
Corrine felt the flow of hot sperm in her butt-hole, and as though she always insisted upon rejecting the image of a man, she murmured:
"That's good Monica, your false penis is working very well. It's washing out my ass."
The writer remained a few seconds wrapped around her back and then withdrew, still shaking with his newfound sensations. While one of the girls kept sucking at Corrine's clitoris, more than three of us were plastering kisses all over her. Alan who had seen his wife possessed by George, exclaimed:
"That lay I just saw was wonderful. I am filled with emotion."
And it was true, because he got stiff. His wife saw him in his delirium and cried out to him.
"I let myself be had by George in spite of my profound disgust. And you, the only man that I love, refuse to make love with me. Please be kind to me and replace George in my ass-hole. We will finish this splendid day by having one of the finest days of our relation together. It will be the first time that you have been taken properly by a man and it marks the first time that I have been fucked by a man, my darling."
Alan remained perplexed while we others tried to encourage and prepare him for his wife's desires.
He looked over at George who was wiping the sperm from his cock. A bit flushed he said:
"If George will stick by me all the time I'm with Corrine, I think I'll be able to possess her that way. In that way I'll have the impression that I am with a male and not a female."
It was curious to watch this little scene. The writer however agreed.
He came alongside Alan who took his hands and contemplated the writer's face while his wife took his dick and stuck it in her arse.
"Can I touch your sex and testicles?" Alan asked George.
"Alright, but under one condition, and that is that I want one of the models to be with me so I can feel her up during that time."
There wasn't any trouble in having what he wanted. A blonde, one of the important collaborators of Corrine's firm and who liked men as well as women, condescended to take on the job.
Alan began caressing the testicles of a distracted George whose eyes were elsewhere. The husband was up his wife's derriere and his lovely spouse was being sucked by one of her faithful employees. And during that time the writer was passionately kissing the blonde beauty.
One of the mannequins came up to me and said:
"Do you know you please me very much?"
I looked her over and I didn't find her disagreeable:
"You also, I find you quite likeable," I admitted. She leaned her head on my shoulders and offered me her lips.
"Can I kiss you?" she pleaded.
"Certainly," I returned and I let myself be taken in the arms of the shapely model who brought her stomach up against mine in order to rub her cunt hps with my hairy pussy.
It didn't take us long to become excited.
"Do you want me to take you with a false cock?" she asked me divinely.
The evening before I saw Corrine upholstered with an apparatus made of heavy rubber, but I had never experienced such a dingus.
"I'd like to try it once," I said with a great deal of anticipation and curiosity.
My new friend left me for a few mintues and then came back with a swollen prick tied around her waist. Every step she took the mechanical cock trembled between her thighs. This sight gave me a strange feeling. The combination of man with his weapon and the breasts of a female appeared monstrous.
She did not hesitate to push the cock into my fluff hole. The sudden attack made me groan with pain.
There is something artificial about this device. This strange phallic instrument which rubs into the vagina with a satisfactory cruelty. One has to be accustomed to the attacks of men before being capable of submitting to such an operation. My partner was enjoying herself playing the part of a strong male. She even appeared to be having the kind of pleasure one has when one is being screwed. Her eyes rolled in her head, her teeth grinding away, and her mouth twisting from side to side, and the picture was complete with the bubbles of foan which rolled out of her mouth.
I squeezed her breasts to heighten the sensual pleasure and we were engaged in a hot fuck.
I personally was enchanted by all this. At that moment George who was having his dick licked off by Alan and who was masturbating the blonde girl saw our handsome escapade and beckoned us to come to him.
Now that he had had contact with the proprietor of the house, George felt that he had all the rights, and perhaps he did. We came up to him but with heavy steps for we did not want to break our pairing.
George asked me to continue to make love with my companion. (I don't think I had the intention of stopping) He leaned at my back and whispered in my ear.
"Ah Madeleine, that ass of yours excites me to no end. From the first night I had you in the trolley I have always had the strongest feelings for you."
George let his prick be caressed by Alan who was massaging it masterfully, but he directed it toward my ass. The false dick was still slipping in and out of my cunt. George fell to his knees and stuck a sharp tongue up my ass-hole.
I was being had in the two caverns and the sudden realization sent new thrills into my head and body. Mv excitation was stimulated by the sharp cries of Corrine who was exploding her liquid. She had been screwed in the rear by her husband and sucked off by one of her lovelies and embraced by another one of her faithfuls. She was brought to the dilirium point with a great bit of finesse. That wonderful woman who was imprisoned by her bevy of girls seemed to swoon like a tortured prisoner. But what bliss I couldn't hold back any longer and I came shortly after. I was followed by my partner, whose name I keep forgetting, and who came ecstatically.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Alan and George had already arrived at their pleasure before they had to withdraw with their sex limp and incapable of further ejaculation. The girls who had not had their moment of supreme joy gathered around and traded off among themselves. They employed the false dildos that were found in the desk drawers and they were in the throes of exultation. When I saw them all coupled like that I thought: Among those who are perverse, their coupling and coming depends on what they see and hear and this is what stimulates them and gives them their delight. When they are frigid, the group helps them rid themselves of their complexes.
I felt that mv conclusions were correct when I understood that the wealthy Mrs. Bayer spared no expense for that matter of valuable time in the pursuit of all sorts of extravagant feast of sensual pleasures.
Was she acting in this way simply because she enjoyed pleasing her guests or was it because she needed this atmosphere to stimulate her erotic exploits?
After a dinner which was full of the most delicious of servings, caviar and oriental tid-bits, champagne pouring out on every occasion, the party took on a victorious glow. Everyone was invited into the immense park which Madame Bayer was very proud of.
"Truce, my friends. I know we are all tired. But I have a new game and I hope it will amuse you all. Usually in order to find the delights of the flesh, we complicate matters. You will all agree to this. Thus, every time we add a man or a woman, we add on to the number of partners at our disposal and that changes the tone of our relations together."
She continued her philosophising:
"What I propose is that we completely upset this habitual procedure of romantic adventures and increase our sensual offerings by first of all changing ourselves."
I didn't understand what she was driving at, but George, with writer sense and quick wit, seemed to catch the patron's idea in flower.
"Bravo Corrine!" George let out. "You've just discovered Copernicus's theory, or rather it's Kants theory of eroticism. Instead of our sex rhythms turning to thoughts of others it ought to turn around ourselves."
Madame Bayer smiled.
"And that's why, I propose that we disguise ourselves. We shall cease to be what we are habitually, either man or woman, in order to take up the opposite sex and concede to that. We will be forced to feel what the other person feels like when he is undergoing love."
This proposal was received with much ado and excited approbation from the guests. Corrine led us all into a little house in the park where she opened a wardrobe that was bursting with men's clothing. imitating the other models, I undid my dress and stripped myself of the frilly things women wear to don a male shirt and put on pants. I put on a tie and wore men's shoes. Even a hat covered my long hair and I chose a cane and some gloves in order to have the appearance of a dandy.
I looked in the large mirror which spread on the north wall of the house and then turned around to face my companions. I almost had to put my hand over my mouth when I saw the change in my fellow mannequins. What a transformation.
Seven of the models were dressed as handsome young men and all in a different manner as thouh they came from different social classes. PiCadilly was mixing with Berkeley Square and a stevedore was right next to a bum.
Madame Bayer was dressed as a Naval Captain in blue, white and gold. That officer pleased me with his intelligent eyes burning with mischief and malice. He had a lovely mouth and his attitude was paternal, and nonchalant at the same time. I grew hot just looking at him or rather her.
But I dominated my sentiment by remembering that I was a male and not a female now. I therefore should be attracted to the opposite sex, the weak sex and the only two of these that we could find was George and Alan.
George was displayed in a crinoline dress right up to his neck to keep his hair from showing and he or she was gifted with a full-blown bosom. A red-head fit snugly over his head. She was wearing nylons with high heeled shoes.
It was curious to see him in this attire. He appeared as a domestic with a certain flair and not without freshness and vivacity. There was a new personality in this new disguise. There were some faults, lack of personal hygiene which proved touching and the transformation contradicted the George who was assured and pompous.
She or he was heavily made-up like a child who had just robbed his parent's toilet cabinet.
As for Allan, he must have certainly had the habit of dressing up as a woman, because he passed in front of me with the air of a grand lady, probably one of the gentry of London. He wore a flower dress and his wig was blonde and curly. His smile .gave him the authenticity of a true English lass.
George sidled up to me and in a hoarse voice resembling that of a street walker he said:
"How about it, mister?"
He must have really thrown himself into the role for I felt that he believed himself to be a woman.
He, or rather she, approached me and planted a kiss right on my mouth.
"You're handsome, fellow"-George told me all the time trying to get used to his high heel shoes.
"You're rather a delicious little gal" -I retorted trying to imagine how I really ought to feel as a male in order to justify the get-together, as well as conform to my adapted personality.
It seemed to me that I had to learn to be audacious like a male and take all the initiative of one.
"You please me a lot, George," and I took "her" in my arms. I remember that "she" had breasts and I felt them up a little. Then my hand slipped down her thigh. George returned the gesture and his hand went into my trousers and he exclaimed:
"Why you lack the most important part of your sex?"
Somewhat confused, I recalled that I had forgotten to attach a false prick around my waist. When I returned with one, my partner began to press it in "her" hands without any misgivings.
"Now you're a real man," George whispered tome. "Do you see how I am?" I said to my companion.
"Oh, I've never felt such a marvelous instrument."
It was not exactly true for he had possessed Alan, but he had never before been fucked in the ass.
Right at that moment an astonishing spectacle filled our eyes. Corrine was garbed in naval dress and equipped with a rubber prick and was screwing Alan in the ass-hole. Alan was ever so dainty in his disguise as an English lady.
A false man taking a false woman. This couple had an air about them as though all were quite normal. And for that matter everything was alright, for the two were perverse and now they were reversing roles and this new change was in effect exactly what they were all about. Corrine was the male and Alan the female.
"You're marvelous at making love, my handsome officer!" cried Alan who responded to the phallic member of his partner-wife.
"I love your little ass, my darling," replied Corrine always on the attack.
Madame Bayer gripped his hips and pushed the instrument in as far as it would go. Mr. Bayer had the mentality of a female for his traits were pretty to behold and his voice was the cooing of a dove. He often got mad and hysterical and showed himself to be a real member of the weaker sex. He was dressed in his true aspect.
"I would like to have some fellows like you," she sighed.
Three of the mannequins, dressed up as men, approached Alan seductively. They began to kiss him all over and feel him up. One of them put the false dick in his hand and in this way Alan was led to believe he was being humped by a flock of males.
I wasn't really taking in the spectacle for I was holding George very tightly. He was behaving like a girl burning with desire. Dear George was molesting my ass and slipping his hand over my false cock.
"Do you know?" "she" said with a heavy tough voice, in spite of "herself" "That I've never been plugged in the arse. I'm asking myself if that is what I want. The disgust of having your ass-hole penetrated must be a myth or either a result of bad education. I didn't feel any pleasure with Alan and yet if I let a woman, that is a man, do it... Well...You know, I'd like to try it. Now that you're a man, you can possess me, for a change."
Having finished his little speech with which he hoped to convince himself, he turned his back and lifted up his skirt and let down his panties. Before me were two hairy cheeks sparkling under a lazy light.
" Let's imitate Alan and Corrine" -he said. I didn't question this, since my partner was just right for my taste.
A little further in the room, Corrine thrilling with pleasure, bellowed like a bull, as she plunged into the anal region of her beloved husband. I wanted to follow suit and I had the chance with the lovely whore in front of me.
I wet the phoney cock with some saliva and slipped it in the crack in the back of my companion. George let out a bewildered cry filled with pain.
"Ouch, take it easy. Don't forget I've never made love in this manner before!"
The idea came into my head that I was devirginizing George and that his rear-end was young and innocent and had never been bruised. This thought heightened my excitation.
I used all my strength in holding the wirey hips of female George and pressed into him with all my force. My "partneress" let out a howl of delight.
I had the sensation that I was having my revenge as well as the revenge of many other women who might have hoped for the same thing. I had fallen into the hands of this perverse man, who was now disguised as a wanton female and now he was under my rule.
My joy doubled and I hastened to the charge. Shaken, George let out a fart, but he didn't try to escape my assault. He seemed to be dizzy and upset by the sensations he was receiving.
"It's terrific! I never thought it would be like that."
I didn't know what he meant by this for he kept mumbling with his extreme suffering and agitation. But he began to express his feelings.
"But it's wonderful. I never knew you could receive such pleasure in being a woman and for once to abdicate from manhood. To let yourself go and have no will and no force and let someone else be occupied with giving you pleasure."
George described exactly the sensations I have had dozens of times during my erotic career.
He defined the essential of the pleasure-seeking female. He understood the assurance and sharp force felt by the slave who was now taking her turn in plowing into her detested partner. It was his fault that she had given in so easily to this perversity. And now she was punishing him for it. She was the male, the brute and she loved it this time.
George leaned how to have humility and realize the power which obsesses the male. He was reduced to the role of a prostitute. The tables had turned and he was forced to submit. But still he was hungry to be dominated.
While I was giving the spiritual writer the experience of what it is like to be a female, Corrine and Alan were wrapped around one another like a couple of beasts. Madame Bayer must have had the habit of hugging and caressing her feminine husband for they did not have any real spurts of joy together. They were already calling many models for help. The models, forever eager, come to the scene. A scene which resembled a "comic-tragedy," filled with clowns and human torture.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was too much in love with Mrs. Bayer to consider this spectacle as a comedy and my respect for her held as strong as ever. My love for this woman caused me to be indifferent to the other girls. I had never thought just how Monica felt in sucking off someone who was going through the act. I failed to give Simone a second thought. Simone of the "female pussies" could perhaps have other joys that I didn't know about.
I looked in on the scene and just had vague notions of what was happening. I never tried to analyze the scene for I was too jovial and spontaneous to do so.
Now that a mannequin was busy licking Corrine's splendid ass and another was sucking the dick of little Alan, the Bayer couple were recharged with new energy and exciting trembles.
Two other models dressed as men joined George and myself. One of them took George's cock and placed it in her mouth and the other discovered my bare ass and shoved a wiggly tongue into my butthole.
This gal with the bow tie was a master at licking up asses. I could tell by her super-treatment. She wet her tongue and circled my hips and then ran down my backbone right down to my cunt. Then with several strong licks entered the region of my buttocks. She sucked to the right and then to the left, before penetrating the anal hole which she saved until last.
The mannequin who so geometrically possessed my ass must have been an artist for she was gifted with a superb sense of harmony and technique.
I appreciated her tactics for I twitched with each new movement and tongue stroke.
Soon Corrine and Alan ejaculated with a thunderbolt of joyful cries. George and I followed their highly thrilling come and we fell into a heap.
Toward evening after a good rest, we recommenced the game of disguise and we buggered and sucked away. I didn't know whether I was being taken by a man or a woman, and frankly I didn't care.
[ remember that a real cock took me from behind at the same time I was digging my false prick into an ass which was either masculine or feminine. I just don't recall.
Fortunately I liked both sexes. This allowed me to pass from one to another without troubling myself with the question of which was which.
Nevertheless, I was always overjoyed to meet these people who were so unusual and non-conformist.
Later on, I understood that if George Monk appeared less specialized than the others it was because he was more deep and more universal than his friends.
If these people remained in their own domain of lesbianism or homosexuality, George knew other domains and his research was far greater.
I discovered all this when George introduced me to a mystic cult.
But before I continue, I should like to answer a question that the reader is no doubt dying to ask.
Why did George take me with him everywhere he went and in such strange places?
First of all, because he was a dear friend and after observing my curiosity he learned to acceot me as a soul who was as curious and hopeful to learn as he.
But the principal reason for my company was that I served as a means of exchange. The masters of the properties that we visited would only give their merchandise in exchange for something that George was capable of giving and this case it happened to be me. And since I was not only agreeable, but obedient as well and always ready for the utmost in sensual pleasures, George was able to use me to obtain erotic treasures with these people.
One day he asked me if I wanted to have a new experience.
"What kind?" I asked, a little sceptical.
"Don't worry. This time it is a spiritual experience and not a physical one."
I had never been deceived by the visits that I had made with George and so therefore I consented to trail along once again.
After swearing to never reveal where I was to go, he took me that night in his car and we drove off to a strange temple in the countryside.
We arrived about midnight. George rang the bell which was used for night visitors like ourselves. A door, heavy as lead, opened slowly and two eyes peered at us from behind two dark eyelashes. A faint light helped us to distinguish a man cloaked in white...
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
...with a red hood. He looked like a hermit and he wore a heavy beard.
"Has the procession begun yet? " George asked.
"No," replied the mystic. "But hurry, Fatimo is awaiting you."
George and I entered the dark passageway and followed the hooded man. The passageway led to a wooden door.
The man knocked and a voice answered.
"Come in, the door is open."
At a table in the back of a sober room, a man with intense black eyes sat stolidly with a white robe and gold hood. He gradually lifted himself and greeted us with a special sign.
"Welcome my friends."
As he moved towards us, he revealed to us a splendid face lined with wrinkles that come only from deep suffering.
"I am glad you have come," he once again extended his hand.
"This is your friend who wishes to be initiated into our order?" he asked George. '' Yes,'' George nodded.
"I believe that we may accept her," he said softly as he walked behind me and gazed at me with his cold deep eyes.
I looked him over also. His face was that of a thinker, thin and intellectual and his forehead was wide. He seemed to have the eyes of a dreamer and yet one could see that he was a realist and a great observer. His name was Boris.
I learned that Boris was the high priest of this somber cult and that he was the one who would preside at the great unveiling.
With a sign of his hand he beckoned us to follow him and we were led into a dimly lit room where ten men were kneeling around a drape that must have hid a great painting. I was asked to come to the center and make myself known and George was asked to hide in the background.
There was a hushed silence and I revealed my name, my age and what I did. Slowly I was obsessed with the desire of telling them what was deep within me. It was so bewildering that I couldn't believe that this voice I was hearing which was giving away my wildest dreams, was my own.
I was asked to strip slowly and Boris said the procession of the candles would take place.
I unzipped my silk dress which was glued to my body line a glove. I let it fall to the ground and stepped out of it. A cultist came and picked it up and knelt beside me inhaling the perfume of the gathered dress.
I was wearing nothing else but my bra, panties, nylons and my red high-heeled shoes. Boris walked around me and inspected my naked flesh.
The n�xt item to fall was my bra and it was picked up by another member and brought to his mouth and nose to flavor the aromatic perfume.
My panties were drawn off by the high-priest Boris who sniffed at them and gave them to another hooded member. Then came my fine nylon hose which was tossed to two other members.
Now I was completely in the nude except for my high heels. When I started to take them off, I was told that they should remain on my feet.
The monk-like men with their hairy faces were kneeling around me each with a garment that I dropped from my body a few seconds ago.
Then I was asked to dance according to my feelings. I hesitated and then began very slowly to dance what must have been a lament. When I saw the somber faces in front of me and behind me, I began to find the situation a bit funny so I stepped up the pace. Indeed, I must have resembled a burlesque dancer and I gave off a few bumps just for kicks. The silence, the odor of men and my naked body must have excited me for a sensual delight invaded my body.
Second upon second, I felt the pangs of lust push through my skin and possess me. No one in the room .moved and I became infuriated. I almost wanted to call George to take me right then and there, but I was too proud to do so and besides I did not want to ruin this initiation.
I thought that I noticed a prick rising under the robe of one of the cultists. I rushed up to him and unhooded him and his eyes were fixed upon me with hunger and passion.
The fixed stare frightened me and excited me at the same time. I backed away not knowing what to do.
Due to the darkness of the room, I stumbled over another man in a white tunic and he rose to keep me from falling. I felt his body against mine. His cock was stiff and crept along my back and his warm breath brushed my cheekbone. He pushed me back into the center of the group.
I continued my dance and everytime I moved I stimulated my sensual desire. It was hard to understand and even to explain it now leads to difficulties.
My dance became more and more violent and I knew that I had to be possessed before I would unveil one of the bearded men and creep under his robe and suck on the cock that was occupying my mind.
I was in a frenzy and my movements must have been lewd. I stuck my ass way out and begged for someone to come and ram it. No one seemed to be interested. I cupped my breasts and made round O's with my mouth in order to make myself clear. I was a human flash of passion out of control.
My head was lost in the clouds when I vaguely noticed that the several men that were circling me were crowding in on me. They lifted their tunic to their waist and fastened it with a cord that they used as a belt.
Every one of them was gifted with an enormous over-sized prick. They were hunting me down like lancers who were preparing to thrust into a tigress.
I fended myself off by taking hold of two of the massive cocks and jerking at them violently. Soft sighs filled the room.
Behind me I could feel a ram-rod which was tickling my ass. My bottom wiggled to avoid this huge instrument. But in vain, for it seemed to fix its aim. I felt its sticky tip preparing to take me from the rear.
At the same time two heads bent down to mouth my breasts and before I had time to say 'Pussy' the two mouths were firmly sucking on my good-sized teats.
The high priest Boris came up to me and looked me in the eye. All the while he stared coldly and unblinkingly at me as he adjusted his tunic and stepped back to ready the aim of his gigantic cock.
He came forward and lifted me up by the hips and placed me on his prick. I wiggled and turned and screwed myself on. The two mouths were fastened to my breasts and my body seemed to be possessed by the demons of lust. I groaned with the painful surge that hurtled up my vagina.
From the back I could feel the slow penetration of another cock and I had to open my wide ass-hole to receive this new immensity.
Four strong men were carrying my burning body over to the drapped painting. I was crazed by the static movement and the smell of their hair. My two hands squeezed the two cocks which I refused to relinquish. My whole attitude caused me to shake violently, and this caused my hands to grip and masturbate the two boiling penises.
Then a frenzy took hold of the stalwart men and they became active. The high-priest pumped me in and out and the man in the rear rolled around and I could feel him puffing near my head.
Boris seemed to he in raptures but kept his wits about him long enough to give the order:
"Draw back the curtain." It was a huge painting of a superb man. The man was like one I had never before seen. He was the picture of manly beauty.
My excitement increased and I almost lost my head for I imagined that the cock of the painting was standing up rigid and urging me on.
I was festooned with penises and yet I longed more than anything else for this prick that was only a painting. I gave a deep sigh and my lips drooled to lick the painting. Boris fixed me with his steel grey and black eyes.
"Bring the painting to life," he ordered.
It was exactly what I wanted, The men who were pistoning me and lubricating within me carried me to the sex of the painting and I buried my face in the canvas.
But lo and behold, I tasted real flesh and I could smell the odor of a live dick. I sucked on it and being a bit crazed I must have bitten into it also.
At the time I could have sworn that it said "ouch" but I must have been imagining things, for how could a painting talk back?
I licked up and down and put the balls in my mouth and then suckled the head of the prick. My hands still kept masturbating the two hooded men beside me.
All of a sudden I could feel two hot jets on both sides of my legs and I realized that the two men who had been caressed by my aching hands were ejaculating in spurts. I was sure of it when they let their limp dicks remain in my locked hands.
Sweat rolled down my back and across my forehead as I continued t receive the most frenetic of experiences. I was jabbed from all angles. Boris was shoving in and out of me with regularity and my ass was being reamed but good by a fantastic instrument. The nipples of my breasts were tongued at and my mouth was swallowing the cock of a man who was only a painting. Yet the prick tasted so real I could have sworn to it.
The man in the back jammed to the bottom of my ass and this caused Boris to speed up his strokes. Then I tongued the long dick more feverishly then before.
Suddenly everything went black. There must have been an explosion in the room for all I could make out before I swooned was the moaning and cries of some four or five men. Then I fell to the ground in a pool of warm sperm. I even tasted sperm and as I recovered some, it trickled down my mouth, or at least I imagined it to be so.
One odd thing stayed in my mind. I felt, that the painting had shivered and cried just before I fell. It was true that my crazed state had caused me to lose my head and I was haunted by all sorts of things.
George had to lift me into the car. When I regained consciousness for good, I looked up at him and put my hand in his hair.
"Poor George, you didn't have the usual time that you have. It wasn't any fun standing in the background," I teased him.
When I looked at him to get the reaction, I saw a curious sight for he seemed to resemble the painting and he was smiling ironically. Very ironically and I wondered about something all the way home.
Today George and I are married. I must tell you about our married life for it is quite unusual and more lively than those rather dull times we spent before our wedding. We have many friends and they come from all parts of the world and our adventures continue. In fact we have been paid visits by official statesmen and dignitaries.
A king who recently came to our house of "love" invited us to stay with him next year. He was completely happy with his vacation here.
But I don't think that George and I will go anywhere next year for we are quite happy just as we are.
Right now I am preparing dinner for our old friends. You may remember some of them: Monica, Corrine, Alan, Mr. Kyoto and Boris. They haven't changed and we have them over from time to time wih the usual gay parties.
It is strange that they seek our company now. We have too many friends and I think that we should start a school. When I told Corrine about this idea, she merely smiled and said:
"This time I'll come as a pupil," and as she said this she embraced me in her own peculiar, but very satisfying manner.
