("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: erosu.txt (MF, rom, mast) Authors name: LishaVei (lishavei@aol.com) Story title : Surrogate: A Nicolas Renouvin Story ------------------------------------------------------ -= This work is copyrighted to the author c 2000. =- Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non- commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. ------------------------------------------------------ Surrogate: A Nicolas Renouvin Story (MF, rom, mast) by LishaVei (LishaVei@aol.com) *** Nicolas was conscious of the door opening. "Yvonne, Yvonne, is that you? Have you come back to me my darling? It was a struggle to raise himself from the pillows and painful to open his eyes. "Sorry Monsieur Nicolas, it's only me Cecile" The maid of all work entered the room and proceeded to draw back the heavy drapes, sunlight flooded into the room. Nicolas uttered a cry of pain, "For God's sake Cecile close them up, my eyes, my head" and he groaned in agony. Cecile complied with his commands. She looked round at the devastation, the drawers pulled out onto the floor, the open closets, the garments strewn about, the broken vases and lamp all witnesses of Yvonne's rage as she had stormed about the room grabbing clothes and makeup and perfumes and stuffing them into a case, as she took her violent departure. Cecile's shrewd brain summed up the situation in a trice. "She left you then Monsieur Nicolas" Cecile was blunt and direct in her speech whilst at the same time preserving an appearance of respect. "Gone back to that fat faggot she calls a husband, Monsieur Soulangier, theatrical impresario and self- made millionaire has she? He won't be too pleased, he'll have to throw his boyfriend out!" She gave a throaty chuckle. "She must be mad is all I can say Monsieur leaving a vigorous young man like yourself" This compliment was no consolation to Nicolas who had grown accustomed to Yvonne, to having her (in his opinion) incomparably beautiful body available to him at all times. "Ah Cecile, my heart is broken, I shall never find another like her." Cecile was unmoved by this "My God you look rough" she continued "Come on Monsieur Nicolas cheer up there's plenty more like her just waiting to hop into your bed I'm sure and anyway she'll be back before long you can count on it, and if she isn't you can always have me. No point hitting the bottle - you should have hit her" She laughed at this witticism. Nicolas was, or pretended to be, taken aback by all this "Have you Cecile? Whatever do you mean?" "You know well enough Monsieur. Have me, do me, get it up me, make love to me I think you call it, after all I've got everything necessary under this drab grey linen dress. Believe me you can do it to me anyway you want, have a good old fuck" Nicolas looked astonished, Cecile laughed, she was a bit taken aback by her own boldness, still why not? Besides she said to herself I bet the first time young Nico dipped his wick it was with one of his mama's maids. "Think about it Monsieur. Here, I'll make you a hair of the dog then you take a shower and I'll make coffee and tidy up in here" "You are too kind Cecile and believe me I have need of kindness, a great need. Oh yes, I'm sure thought Cecile, smiled to herself, left the room, went to the kitchen and put on the coffee maker and then concocted a hangover remedy out of tomato juice and bitters which she took back to Nicolas who was now sitting up fully though still moaning. "Get this down you Monsieur, you'll soon feel right as rain." Grimacing he complied. She picked up his robe from the end of the bed and handed it to him "Off you go now, a shower will set you up fine, you'll be ready for anything." Even a fuck with the maid she added silently. Obediently he put it on and headed for the bathroom. Cecile busied herself with tidying up, straightening the bed and noticing the stains of lovemaking on the sheets, putting clothes back into drawers and dresses back on hangers. Some of Madame's delicate underwear she put to one side together with a pair of violet silk stockings, spraying the garments and herself with some of Madame's precious and very expensive perfume, which Yvonne had abandoned in her flight. Nicolas returned feeling much refreshed and climbed back onto the bed and Cecile arranged the pillows behind him, he caught a whiff of Yvonne's perfume and sighed deeply. "Now then Monsieur don't go getting depressed again just when you're feeling better, everything's going to be fine" A plan was forming in Cecile's shrewd and active brain. "I'll get the coffee, that'll make a new man of you." Whilst Nicolas drank the strong restorative coffee, Cecile continued her chores, and soon order was restored to the room, everything back in its place and the broken shards of vases and ornaments disposed of. Cecile noted that however hasty Madame's departure she had made sure that she took all her jewelry! "Ah, Cecile your excellent coffee seems to have calmed my jangled nerves. But how can I restore tranquility to my mind and body Cecile? Is there any way?" Cecile appeared to think deeply for a while then she said "Perhaps there is. I have an idea. If it fails, nothing is lost. If it succeeds, calm will be restored to you." "Tell me!" "Will you trust me, Monsieur Nicolas?" Nicolas who was thinking of Cecile's earlier offer of physical consolation decided to play along, he was feeling much better! "Implicitly. You have shown yourself to be a person of profound sympathy." Cecile smiled at this "I hope I have Monsieur after all I have your best interests at heart and you are in need of comfort." Again she gave her throaty chuckle. "Now Monsieur Nicolas take off your robe and lie down, here I'll take some of those pillows away." Cecile also pulled the coverlet and sheet down to the bottom of the bed. Nicolas obeyed her instructions, removed the robe and lay there naked except for a pair of black silk shorts, (a gift from Yvonne) with just one pillow under his head. Cecile spoke again "Now Monsieur Nicolas just close your eyes and keep them closed. This is most important." She next arranged the opening of his shorts so that it would not constrict his vital part. Then she gathered the frothy, delicate, garments she had put to one side earlier and went to the dressing table to fetch a perfume spray. "Are your eyes closed? Now stay still and accept whatever happens." She draped an item or two of silk and lace over his face and gave them a quick spray of expensive perfume. "Ah,' Nicolas murmured, "that fragrance! I could almost believe that she is here with me." Cecile said nothing. She stood beside the bed observing the effect on him. Inside the shorts his limp organ was stirring - that being the art of the perfumier, to arouse a man's feelings - it began to protrude through the opening. She dangled a violet silk stocking by the toe so it just brushed over the head of his lengthening and thickening staff, which now stood out fully exposed. As it grew stronger yet and raised itself from his belly, she got his erection inside the stocking so that the silk clung along its whole length. She stroked the length of his shaft with her fingertips. `Oh my God!' Nicolas whispered through the scented garments over his face. Cecile continued pulling the stocking from his by now rigid member she trailed it slowly up over his hard belly and over his chest and nipples. Ah. . . ah. . . ah. . .' he sighed. She trailed the stocking back as slowly and delicately and he writhed and twisted on the bed. Then she wadded up the silk stocking and pushed it gently between his thighs so that he would feel the touch of it against his balls and then flicked at his jutting part with a pair of eau-de-Nil coloured knickers. Only a few moments of this were needed to render Nicolas incoherent with pleasure. She wrapped the garment loosely round his trembling part, so that more sensation would arise from the intermittent contact and so carry Nicolas further towards his goal. That done, she stood back from the bed to remove her gray linen dress which as it buttoned all down the front was soon off followed by her other garments, a thin white cotton brassiere, soft and shapeless from wear and washing and a pair of grey rayon knickers very plain and uninspiring when compared to Madame's frilly silks. She kicked off her shoes and stood naked but for a pair of black woolen stockings held up by white garters. She was ten years older then Yvonne Soulangier, which made her thirty-four. She was not unattractive, in her way, but the nature of her work and the long hours involved meant that she had little time to herself and her pleasures had necessarily been with men of her own class and therefore lacking in finesse. At the present time she had an 'arrangement' with a Monsieur Laurent Dugard who had a small drapers shop in the quarter where she lived. He had an invalid wife (Cecile suspected that the nature of her indisposition was an aversion to sex with Monsieur Dugard) and he visited Cecile on Sunday afternoons. This had come about through Cecile getting into debt at Dugard's store through buying clothes she could not really afford some three years previously. Dugard had encouraged her and then suggested how she could pay-off the debt. She was still paying. He would arrive about three having dined well and downed a carafe of red wine. His needs were simple and his technique rudimentary. He expected only that she put on a plain white cotton nightdress whilst he himself put on a nightshirt. She would lie on the bed, the nightdress up to her waist with her legs drawn up and widespread holding open the lips of her quim and after some minutes of contemplating her exposed parts during which he played with his short stubby weapon to bring it to full stiffness he climbed on to the bed and onto Cecile. She would guide his blunt instrument into her vagina, first moistening the head with her saliva and he would work away, up and down and in and out, and the old bed would rock and shake and the springs would rattle and jangle, and Dugard would be squeezing and rubbing her breasts through the cloth of her nightgown, nipping the nipples between thumb and forefinger as they hardened, until with a sort of bellow he would shoot off his load, fall forward and then roll off her and fall into a noisy sleep punctuated by belches and farts. In the early days she would then have to go to the bathroom and remove the vinegar soaked piece of sponge she had inserted into her vagina before his arrival and douche herself thoroughly, washing out his thick sperm. Then she would push a freshly soaked piece of sponge up her quim ready for the next go. Sure enough, when he woke up, Dugard would turn to her, give her a few slobbering kisses, fumble her breasts, feel up her slit and then fuck her again just as rapidly and then he would dress and depart. He would occasionally expect a variation in position and put his cock into her from behind as she knelt on all fours on the floor banging up against her buttocks forcefully as he squeezed her hanging down tits enthusiastically, stretching her nipples downwards between finger and thumb as though milking a cow. Sometimes he rewarded her with gifts of chocolates and cheap underclothes and stockings from the shop. When he had gone and after another douche she would lie back on the bed and slowly bring herself off. Nowadays though she used a Dutch Cap, which she had obtained free, from the local clinic run by a society of middle-class do- gooding ladies who were concerned about the rabbit-like breeding habits of the lower classes. The lady doctor who fitted it for her and instructed her in its use looked though as if she preferred the pleasures of her own sex, possibly with the pert little dark-haired nurse who assisted her. Good luck to them thought Cecile if they were a pair of lezzers at least they didn't have to worry about douches, sponges, vinegar or even Dutch Caps! So it is not surprising that she envied people like Yvonne Soulangier and Nicolas Renouvin who enjoyed such freedom in regard to their amorous lives no one can say, of course, what was uppermost in her thoughts as she got on to the bed to straddle Nicolas. The opportunity to try out for herself the joys of Yvonne's lover - it may have been partly that - in addition to her natural desire for the money which she was sure that a grateful Nicolas would give to her if only from a certain sense of obligation to a woman of her class. She had learnt early in life that pleasure and greed are two strong motives which frequently go together. One thing was certain however; a very thrilling sensation gripped her at the thought of what she was about to do. A delicious feeling that set her sexual secretions flowing. Because the underwear draped over his face blindfolded him, Nicolas saw nothing of her broad bared belly and its thick muff of black hair, nothing of the fleshy lips of her slit now moist with her juices, which she drew apart with her fingers. He felt the caress, as soft as a whisper, of the silk draped around his upstanding part gently pulled away, to be replaced by warm flesh, firm but yielding, that slowly took him into itself. `Yvonne!' he exclaimed, `I adore you!' Cecile was careful not to touch him directly with her hands in case he could distinguish between Yvonne's soft skin and her own work-hardened as it was. She balanced herself above his loins and rode gently up and down, hearing him babble on and on, as his excitement grew stronger. Men are complete idiots, she thought; give them a sniff at a pair of drawers and they take leave of their senses. What stupidity! `Yvonne!' Nicolas moaned. `Yes, cheri, yes,' Cecile whispered back, trying to imitate the accent and tone of a woman of Yvonne's class. She need not have given herself the trouble. Nicolas was far beyond the point at which he could distinguish between one woman's voice and another. She continued to ride him slowly and his loins rose by degrees from the bed, pushing deeper, as he hung tremulously on the brink of rapture. As Nicolas's cock suddenly stiffened more, a sure sign that he was about to shoot his lot, Cecile was suddenly aware that she was more than mildly aroused by this lovemaking and gasping in pleasant surprise she held her pendant breasts and squeezed the stiff nipples as Nicolas went off and his quivering rod and spurting jet flicked her into a brief but exhilarating climax. She had to struggle hard to stop herself crying out with pleasure. `Oh yes. . . oh yes. . .' Nicolas whispered, until his words changed into a long muted wail as he came off in ecstasy and shot his load into Cecile. And what a load, what a fountain, the force and extent of it quickly brought Cecile back to reality. She hoped Madame Yvonne had not taken with her the douche she kept in the bathroom. However she just couldn't jump off in mid- stream as it were, so still riding up and down easily with her slippery quim glowing and twitching with pleasure, she waited for his spasms of delight to fade, watching his quivering belly in surprise at how long they were lasting. Monsieur Dugard and most other men she had known were finished in about five seconds flat after their cocks began to shoot off. Nicolas however continued to shudder and gasp in ecstatic release long after he had emptied himself into her. Now that, she thought, would do wonders for a woman properly prepared in advance to share it with him. Perhaps she had discovered the secret of these bourgeois lovers - perhaps it was an intensity of passion prolonged for a long time. Only when Nicolas at last lay still did she climb with care off the bed, and hasten to the bathroom. Yes the douche was there. Thank God for that, she didn't mind doing it for money but she didn't want a bellyful of arms and legs thrown in thank you very much. She ran warm water into the hand-basin and made it as soapy as she could and filled the device with it, then sitting on the bidet she inserted the nozzle and washed herself out. She carefully washed her outer parts as well and then she dried herself on one of the thick white towels. God how lovely and soft, what it was to be rich! She replaced the douche. Tomorrow she would be fully prepared with her Dutch Cap in position! Quickly she returned to the bedroom. Nicolas still lay inert with the chemise over his face and an occasional tremor still shook his body, she noted, as, she put on her brassiere, knickers and dress. Then properly dressed again, she gently removed the chemise from his face His eyes opened slowly to take in his surroundings before focusing on the friendly face of the maid standing beside the bed. `Oh, it's you, Cecile,' he said, smiling at her, `I had a most marvelous dream.' `Did you, Monsieur Nicolas? What was it?' `She was here with me and we made love. It was incredible! I feel so good ahhh- so calm.' `I'm very pleased to hear that. Do you want to sleep for a while?' `I believe that I will. You won't go away, will you?' "No, I have plenty of work to do around the apartment. I shall be here when you wake up. I'll draw the curtains to help you sleep." For the rest of the afternoon Cecile busied herself with hand-washing and ironing all the expensive underwear that she could find, putting some into her bag to take home and putting the rest into the airing closet for future use. She also made a mental note to help herself to one or two of the fashionable frocks and a selection of the cosmetics abandoned by Yvonne. That stuck up cow would never miss them. Cecile was growing tired of Monsieur Dugard. This afternoon had brought her the realization that at her age she deserved something better, something satisfying to herself. Yes she certainly did and if she smartened herself up with the aid of Yvonne's wardrobe she was sure she could seduce young Monsieur Carvagel who had the room next to hers and looked at her with such longing eyes having no doubt heard through the thin walls of the apartments the discordant music of her bedsprings on Sunday afternoons as Dugard fucked merrily away! He was a well set-up young man was Monsieur Carvagal, a floor-walker in the Galeries Lafayette but it was obvious that he was shy and made shyer by an unfortunate stammer and she knew he was lonely since the death of his mother to whom he had been devoted. Besides he was at an interesting age and with the techniques she was going to learn from Nicolas she would be able to make him make both himself and herself very happy! She sang softly as she worked, pleased that her little ruse had proved to be a success beyond her expectations. It had calmed Nicolas down and without question that alone had earned her a considerable tip from him when he woke up. In passing, he had given her unawares a brief pleasure which she had not expected - and an insight into the ways of those with more money and leisure than herself. But that apart, she was cheered by the thought that Nicolas would without doubt be generous to her and that led her to speculate on the possibility of making more money from him to add to her savings, before the lovelorn young man recovered his wits and found himself another woman - a matter of a week or ten days at the most, in Cecile's estimation. She woke Nicolas at six in the evening with a glass of tea with a thin slice of lemon in it. While he was sipping at it gratefully she got a basin of warm soapy water, a wash-cloth and a towel and devoted her attention to his exposed cock, now soft and small and looking so harmless, washing away the dried sperm and quim juice that matted his pubic hair, gently drawing back his foreskin to wash the purple head and drying it tenderly almost. She did all this in the most matter- of-fact way and he accepted it without demur as though he were a child again and she was his nanny. "Has your sleep refreshed you?" she asked. "Yes, I am eternally in your debt, Cecile. When you found me here, I wanted to die. Now I am ready to live again. I can never repay you for your kindness." "As to that, Monsieur Nicolas..." "Of course! If you will be so good as to pass my jacket to me. . . there, I know that mere money can never repay the devotion you have shown me today in my hour of need, but I hope that you will accept this as a small token of my gratitude." "You are too kind," Cecile said politely, tucking the bank notes quickly down her dress front into her brassiere. "If only I could do more to help you through this time of anguish." `Perhaps there is a way to help me,' he said slowly "Though I hesitate to impose my misery on you. You have only to mention it Monsieur you don't have to be shy with me!" "Because of you I enjoyed a dream of such exquisite pleasure that I shall never forget it. I would like to dream that dream again, if you could bring yourself to assist me." Between them it was arranged that Cecile should return to the apartment on the next day at three. She made ready to leave. "Oh Monsieur Nicolas can I get you anything to eat after all you must keep up your strength" "It's all right Cecile I will telephone the bistro on the corner and have them send something up." When she arrived, fully prepared, next day she left her hat and coat in the entrance hall and went to the bedroom, where the door stood slightly open. Inside, the curtains were drawn to dim the room and Nicolas was in bed, his eyes closed as if he were asleep. "Yvonne - it's you at last," he whispered, not stirring. Without a word, Cecile took from her capacious handbag a violet coloured satin chemise and spread it gently over his face. She had already sprayed it with Madame's perfume and the familiar fragrance caused Nicolas to sigh loudly. "You are so adorable, Yvonne! To be with you is happiness beyond imagining." Cecile had brought the spray with her. She squirted a cloud of fragrance on to the silk to intensify its effect. "Cherie!" Nicolas moaned. She drew the coverlet and sheet away from him and down to the foot of the bed. He was naked with his stretched legs spread wide and his cock was at full stretch. "See how impatiently I have been waiting for you," he murmured. Cecile delved into her bag for a pair of silk stockings and trailed them slowly the length of his body, from throat to thighs, then upwards along his strong shaft from base to tip. This caress, many times repeated, brought about a trembling in his limbs and made his upstanding part twitch. "It is so thrilling when you tease me," he whispered, "you will drive me mad with pleasure. Don't stop!" Cecile still fully dressed, kicked off her shoes, climbed on to the bed and knelt between his spread legs. She continued the treatment until she judged the moment right - Nicolas was squirming in delight and muttering little endearments. She wound the stocking around the end of his eager shaft that throbbed so urgently, so that it covered his foreskin and holding the stocking top in one hand and the foot in the other pulled it out to its full length with his cock held firmly upright by it. Tightening her grip on the free ends she gently moved the stocking up and down causing the necessary friction over the head of his cock. She tossed him off at arms- length as it were. The result was dramatic. Nicolas convulsed as if an electric wire had touched him and jetted a fountain of cum into the air most of which rained down on to the front of Cecile's dress as he climaxed, shuddering with pleasure. But, Cecile observed, the duration of his passion was much shorter than the day before. Evidently he required something more to bring him to full release. His words confirmed her deduction. "Ah, cherie," he said, `No one has ever aroused me as you do. I dream incessantly of your beautiful body." Cecile got off the bed and as before, stripped off quickly and then took up her position, kneeling above his loins. His firmness had only partially relaxed and moistening two fingers with saliva she rubbed them gently over his nipples, which quickly brought his cock to full erection, and she guided up and into her eager vagina. The slippery warmth of that contact brought back Nicolas's vigor in full measure. It was in Cecile's mind that on this occasion she might benefit equally with Nicolas from the union of bodies. She therefore slid up and down very slowly so as to give herself time to respond physically to the feel of what was inserted in her. Nicolas trembled and sighed as she worked away steadily - his satisfaction was assured and she could take thought for her own. She had been told that the positions of love number 128 and she had seen illustrations in a book of engravings here in Nicolas's apartment that demonstrated the possibilities that existed when a man and a woman had the time and inclination to experiment with such diversions. Nevertheless, the only ones Cecile had experienced herself were three in number - flat on her back, on all fours, or standing against a wall, according to circumstances at the time. To find herself sitting above a man who was lying on his back was unfamiliar, of course. Yesterday she had not really appreciated it but she could get to like it very much she now thought! She experienced a strange sensation - not of doing it to him instead of him doing it to her, which she would have expected - but almost of doing it to herself! That was of no importance, however, for she was pleasing him and at the same time she was giving herself pleasure. When the spasms in Nicolas's body warned her of the imminent arrival a second spate of passion, she thought that it was too soon for her. This momentary disappointment proved to be false. He raised his hips from the bed as he went off and this last extreme penetration by his jerking shaft, to the core of her being it seemed, brought her to a turbulent climax. She heard herself squeal in gratification as her eyes bulged and her nipples throbbed and her somewhat flabby belly quivered and jumped. So that's what Yvonne and her like enjoyed two or three times a day, she thought when the exquisite sensations died away. Monsieur Nicolas rewarded her generously again adding on the cost of her dress which had, as Cecile pointed out, been ruined by his cum. This somewhat bizarre liaison between Nicolas and Cecile continued for only three more days. The routine was not changed. He was there naked and in bed by the time she arrived. She covered his closed eyes with perfumed lingerie and teased him with silk stockings on his skin until he discharged for the first time, then prepared herself and mounted him to give him - and herself - a great felicity. After that she became the attentive servant again, properly dressed and polite as she washed and dried his satisfied part. And each time, before she departed, Nicolas made her a handsome present of money. On what proved to be their final meeting matters proceeded differently. The customary sigh of pleasure was absent when she covered his face with a pair of lilac silk camiknickers and sprayed on the perfume. He said nothing and did nothing. There was a tiny frown on Cecile's face as she drew down the bed covers to expose his naked body. He was aroused, that was a good point, she thought. Yet he seemed to be ill at ease. No longer was he allowing himself to be enchanted by the illusion of Yvonne's presence. His first gratification was unusually slow to arrive, however long Cecile trailed the edges of soft underwear over the skin of his belly and along his rigid part - not even when she made it sway from side to side by flicking at it with a pair of cyclamen red knickers. His continued silence was a further indication, which she could not fail to understand - his mood of the past few days was changing. All the same, there was a service to be performed if she hoped to benefit again financially from his gratitude. Eventually, to facilitate matters, she drew a silk stocking over his cock to encase it and his balls fully, then took it boldly in her hand and stroked up and down in a fast rhythm. That had the intended effect, to be sure! He gasped and writhed in pleasure and then squirted his passion into and through the gossamer web of the stocking. But, Cecile's watchful eye noted, compared with what she had seen him do before, his climax of delight was brief. His body had responded to her stimulation, but his heart and mind were untouched. Since he made no comment of any kind but just lay on his back as before, she prepared herself to complete the regular performance. There too she encountered a new problem! By the time she was in position above him she found that his hitherto unflagging part had become limp and small. Yes, she thought, we are fast reaching the end of the little comedy we have played out together! Even so, the only indication she had of his desires was that he lay waiting for her to continue. Now assuredly Cecile did not possess one-tenth of the skills of her mistress in arousing the passions of a failing lover. She did what she could, guided only by her instinct - rubbing, squeezing and tugging - until at last the sleeping part was awakened and rose up. In great relief she inserted it into the portion of herself ordained by a kindly providence for that purpose. At once she began to move up and down forcefully, her consideration being that brisk stimulation seemed to be necessary to retain the interest she had stirred with much difficulty. It would be a catastrophe if she permitted this interest to droop before the final act was accomplished! Nicolas raised his hand and pulled the lilac silk underwear from his face and stared her full in the eyes. (Of course Nicolas had been fully conscious all along that what they were doing was all play-acting and he had gone along with it. He had enjoyed the ritual and he had been able to convince himself that he was not merely having sex with a maid of all work. In the course of it all he had become impressed with Cecile's devoted attentions to him. Now was the time to acknowledge reality.) "But this is ridiculous!' he exclaimed, "I'm doing it with you, not her." Cecile said nothing, for there was nothing to say. The dream was evidently at an end and Nicolas had woken up from his torpor. His next words surprised her. "So then, if it's you, it's you - and why not? We'll do it properly this time, Cecile. Yes I'll take up your offer Cecile. I'll have you. I'll do you. I'll give you a good long fuck" His hands went up to take hold of her breasts and squeeze them. "Not a bad pair of tits at all," he commented, speaking more coarsely than would have been suitable if he had been with Yvonne, perhaps he thought this was how the lower orders conducted their sexual affairs! Cecile shrugged. It wasn't much of a compliment but it was the only one that had ever been paid to her bosom. "You've done me a favour or two these last few days", he said, "now I'm going to do you one. Swing your backside - let's have some action to warm you up! Come on grip my cock tight in your cunt" He enjoyed using these words, these coarse schoolboy words so alien to his past relationships. It was true that he was hard inside her and for any man that meant that he would want to complete the process that had been commenced. So much was obvious to Cecile, but beyond that she wondered what she had stirred up in him. This was a new Nicolas she was seeing was fully vigorous, demanding - one might even say dominating. She obeyed his instructions and moved her hips to and fro hard, becoming more and more aware of the fleshy protuberance on which she was impaled - and of the pleasant sensations it was giving her. Nicolas's hands were at her pear shaped bouncing breasts fondling and stroking and tugging at her nipples to intensify her passion. He left her breasts and opened the lips of her cunt with the fingers of one hand whilst with the fingers of the other he manipulated her clitoris which swelled up and twitched in appreciation. Her juices were so copious his prick moved with perfect ease up there inside her. Before long, Cecile was out of control. She moved fiercely, her whole being straining towards the point of rapture, which she felt was very close. "That's good" Nicolas urged her on. "Faster! I want to see it happen to you." He moved one hand back and gripped her right breast hard; he tightness of his grip was almost painful, except that even pain was a pleasure to her at that moment. She thumped down on him another six or seven times and his wish was fulfilled - he saw it happen to her. Her head went back until her face was directed towards the ceiling, the muscles of her belly clenched like a fist and from her wide open mouth there came a long throaty groan of pure ecstasy. "More!" Nicolas commanded her, jerking himself sharply upwards into her. Without question she had never in her life so far experienced a sensation like it. It was in a totally different category from the pleasure other men had given her and it took some time for the tremors in her body to cease. Her head fell forward and she was looking into Nicolas's face and there she saw a smile of triumph. "Good enough for a start," he said to her. "Now I'm really going to show you what it's like." "Oh; Monsieur Nicolas! I'm as limp as a rag already." His hands left her breast and her quim and took her by the hips. An agile twist of his body reversed their positions, so that she was underneath him, her thighs outside his legs and his hard belly pressed flat to her soft one - and this he accomplished without losing his place in her warm, wet, clinging cunt. She thought that he would attack her as if with a battering ram and had no relish for it. Here again he surprised her. This time he felt her breasts tenderly and stroked them softly, the fingers moving over them feather light, just brushing the taut nipples. Mmmmmm ohhhhhh" she moaned. "Did I treat them roughly? Are they bruised? Let me kiss the hurt away" and his lips were soft on her flesh. "It felt nice, whatever you did but aaahhhhhhh that feels nicer ohhhhhhh. `You must understand, Cecile, the moods of love change quickly. After the wild pleasure you have just experienced you need a different sort of approach.' "Oh, yes, oh, yes" she moaned and sighed a slave under his gentle hands. "Oh, yes do anything you wish Monsieur Nicolas ahhhhhh it's paradise" He moved inside her with long and slow strokes to give her a little time to recover from her recent exertions, but not too much for her to go cold. She appreciated the tenderness he was showing her, though in her heart she did not believe that it would do anything for her. In this she was judging from her own limited experience, in which the few men she had been with and especially the swinish Dugard. Nicolas had been taught the ways of love by a succession of beautiful women, young and not so young who knew how to savor love to the very last drop - women like Yvonne who expected a lover to be able to entertain them in bed for several hours at a time. It was not until sighs of pleasure from Cecile indicated that she was responding correctly to what he was doing that Nicolas changed his pace from a gentle canter to a brisk trot. That Nicolas, an average selfish man, devoted all this attention to the sensual gratification of a maid of all work was an indication of his unusual frame of mind at that time. As she lay on her back naked except for her legs encased in cheap black stockings with his conception of feminine beauty he could not find her attractive. Her face was broad, her eyebrows unplucked, her hair seemed dull and not too clean and was scrunched up in that appalling bun and her complexion uncared for. All this he had seen for himself when he had removed the blindfold from his face and stared at her. Her breasts had not that springy firmness nor perfection of shape which even those of the fuller- figured Yvonne possessed; they were slack and pendulous and she had no discernible waist. Worst of all, the unkempt bush of brown hair that grew from her groins halfway up her belly demonstrated that she was devoid of the slightest idea of how to make herself attractive to a lover. He was used to the neat triangles of his pampered lovers which were kept neatly trimmed, perhaps dyed also, or even to shaven hairless mounds which made the lips of their treasures appear more prominent! (From all this it can be seen that Nicolas was the perfect bourgeois snob without the slightest knowledge of the daily lives and desperate struggles of great mass of the people; nor did her care to know). Truth to say, Nicolas did not understand his own motives in making love to her as if she were the most desirable woman in the whole of Paris. He was obeying the promptings of his own heart and it was not necessary that he should understand them. What he was doing made him feel good, that was what mattered. Not just physically good that was the result of the exciting friction of joined sexual parts - but good in his heart. "Oh my God!" Cecile moaned, "It's incredible!" "Ah, but it gets better still," Nicolas gasped. And it did just as he promised, until she was reduced to a body quivering uncontrollably at the spasms of pleasure that shook her. But there is a limit to the intensity of pleasure a man or a woman can sustain. Of this Nicolas was well aware, and in good time his measured trot became a gallop. The bed on which they lay was creaking with their efforts. His belly smacked against hers again and again and by now Cecile was thrusting upwards simultaneously with Nicolas to plunge him to the limit each time. When the moment came she screamed in delight and Nicolas cried out aloud with her as the surge of his passion flung them both into ecstatic release. For Cecile it was as it she were watching a Fourteenth of July fireworks display - the whole night sky ablaze with exploding rockets, blinding white star-shells and coloured rains of fire. For Nicolas it was his ticket to freedom from Yvonne and he reveled in the relief of it, his movements extending Cecile's pleasure beyond anything she thought possible. He was still pumping away at her, though more slowly, long after she was lying limp and almost unconscious beneath him. On this occasion it was she who wanted to doze for a while. Nicolas was too exhilarated to think of sleep - he wanted to go out into the street and see people and visit friends and reactivate his life. He almost sprang from the bed, showered and made his preparations then he roused Cecile by shaking her shoulder gently. She opened her eyes and saw that he was fully dressed and ready to go out. A moment later she remembered that she was lying naked on her back and she closed her legs and put a hand modestly over her bushy mound - though what modesty signifies after what had taken place between the two of them, who can say? Nicolas smiled briefly, at her reaction. "Cecile,' he said, "I am going out now to make certain arrangements. Take your time and leave when you are ready. Please call round tomorrow around noon when I shall, if all goes well this evening, have certain instructions for you. "Thank you Monsieur Nicolas you can rely on me" "Ah dear Cecile if only all women were as reliable as you" he answered quietly as he left the room. The next day Cecile arrived at the apartment as arranged. Nicolas was not only up and dressed but in the throes of packing clothes into suitcases furiously. One case had already sprung open, the lock gone from the strain and had been abandoned to its fate. "Come in Cecile, come in, as you can see I am packing, packing to leave this apartment for good." "So I see Monsieur and making a right pig's ear of it," she said, somewhat taken aback. "For good Cecile. Truth is I can stand the place no longer so I'm moving out. First I'm off to Nice and the Riviera for a nice long holiday with my aunt Hortense and her daughters and after that who knows eh" he laughed happily. "Sounds wonderful," said Cecile lamely trying to recover from the shock. But hadn't she known it couldn't last, their strange little affair? "You said you would have instructions for me Monsieur" she attempted to sound businesslike. "Ah yes Cecile I would like you to oversee the packing and removal of my things when the removal men arrive tomorrow, just keep an eye on them, don't let them do too much damage, then close the place up and put the keys in this packet and post them to Monsieur Broscardin - the address is on the packet - my uncle who owns this place. Can you do all that?" "Of course Monsieur am I not always at your service" and she gave her throaty laugh. He laughed too and kissed her cheek. "Just one thing Monsieur what shall I do with Madame Solangiers stuff?" "Mmm, well I hear she's gone to America with her husband for at least six months so I am sure she is not missing a few frocks and knickers and when she gets back they'll all be out of fashion anyway." He laughed again "Tell you what take what you want but don't take them all just in case" he winked "and what's left can go with my things, okay? Oh and get rid of that busted case somehow." "Certainly Monsieur and thank you Monsieur. Come on Monsieur give those shirts to me that's no way to fold them" She spent the next hour packing and re-packing his things. At four thirty the doorbell rang, it was his aunt's chauffeur who had come to collect Nicolas and his luggage and his tennis racquets and his golf clubs. As the chauffeur went off with the cases Nicolas drew a large well-filled envelope from his pocket "Here you are Madame Cecile a little token of my respect" and he kissed her hand and was gone. Cecile sat on the bed and wept quietly for a little while but then she was up and about making a selection of Yvonne's abandoned finery. She did as promised and left a few garments but she took all the cosmetics and perfume. In addition she took a book of pornographic photographs from the bedside cabinet as a memento of Nicolas. Could come in handy as a manual of instruction she thought. She also took three of the big, soft, white towels from the bathroom. She found that the leather suitcase with the sprung lock, which was rubbish to Nicolas now, suited her purpose just fine and put everything inside, tying it round with a piece of stout cord. That way it looked like the sort of case a workingwoman would have. Then she checked the flat and taking the keys locked the door and set off for home for the night. Standing in the street she thought, "Bugger it I'm not struggling on the autobus or the Metro", so she walked to the end of the street out to a main road and then hailed a taxi. She felt she deserved it. In the foyer of the apartments she ran into Alain Carvagel. "Goo, goo, goo, good evening Madame Renardier I hope you, you, you are well" he sort of stammered and blushed "Very well Alain and you?" Ye-ye-ye-es Madame, a litt, a litt, a litt-le tired after a long day perhaps." "Ah well Alain perhaps an early night is called for" And she laughed. The elevator was not working which was no surprise. Normally Cecile would have said "Shit" but she just said "Ah Alain it's the stairs for us." "Here le-le-le--et me take your ca-ca-ca-ca-se Madame" "You are a true gentleman Alain." He blushed again as they started the climb. Outside her apartment they parted. "Goodnight Madame" "Goodnight Alain sweet dreams" Wet ones probably she thought smiling to herself. Soon now she would begin his education, she would train him, as she wanted him to go, hand rear him as it were. She laughed aloud at the thought. Inside and alone she did not feel so exuberant. The drabness of the apartment depressed her and she sighed as she looked about her. "Never mind Cecile my girl life must go on" she told herself and having pulled herself together the first job she did was to take the envelope of money from her bag and lock it safely away in the heavy metal trunk in her bedroom. Next she removed her coat and hat hanging them on a hook behind the door. Then she went into the tiny kitchen, which was stale with old cooking smells and the smell of gas. She lit the stove and heated up her soup and sliced the bread. Whilst she ate she tried to read a story in a cheap romance magazine. It was impossible. Other thoughts were in her head, persistent thoughts. After clearing up she went into the bathroom and started to run a bath. The water ran slowly from the taps into the stained and chipped tub. Leaving it she collected the case and took it to the bedroom where she unpacked it and lovingly put the frilly lingerie into her clothes chest, leaving out a pair of sea-green silk cami-knickers which she spread on the bed. She removed her clothes, hanging up the dress but flinging the rest into a corner. She looked at herself in the old, age- spotted long mirror, which hung on one wall, twisting and turning, pushing up her breasts pushing out her bottom. She regarded the wild and tangled bush at the base of her belly. Do something about that. Yes. Must. The she returned to the bathroom. The tub was about one third full but that was as much as it would go before the water turned cold, so she turned off the taps and climbed in. She soaped herself using a cake of Yvonne's perfumed soap. Soaped herself carefully, lovingly; her breasts, down over her belly, her groins, her jou-jou; she sang softly as she did so. She knew she could not linger because the water was turning tepid already. She climbed out and dried herself slowly on one of her new, thick, white towels luxuriating in the softness of it. Back in the bedroom she put on the cami-knickers. They were a fairly good fit a little loose over the bosom - Yvonne was Junoesque in figure - but not tight over her stomach. She did not fasten the strip of cloth that went between the legs. She took the clips from her hair, let it down and brushed it; her hair which she always wore pushed up any old way was a lovely reddish brown. She looked in the mirror again and liked what she saw. "When I make myself up that will be something" she said to herself. "And," she added, "Dugard can go fuck himself with his fingers in future, I've more than paid the debt in full." She put out the main light and climbed into bed turning on the small bedside lamp. She had intended to look at the book of photographs but she suddenly felt, not tired exactly, but dreamy and drifting. She switched off the lamp and stretched out. Then she found herself touching her nipples through the clinging silk, ahhhhhh that was good, they hardened, mmmmmm, a hand moved down, smoothing the silk over her belly, moved down and the fingers gently twisted and pulled at the hair of her mound, moved on and parted her pouting lips. She was all moist, so moist and soft, a finger rubbed her bud gently, ohhhhh, yessssssss, gently. It stirred, it stiffened, and it throbbed. Her yearning clitoris. It was, it was so, so, ahhhhhhh, so, yesss, yesssss, it was so lovely, so nice, so... And the gentle caressing continued on nipples on clitoris as the feeling grew and it was, yesss it was, oh yes it was going to, going to, Oh Nicolas, Nicolas, my love, yes do me, do me, I want you to always, ohhhhhhh, OH, YES and then it came a feeling indescribable, Far better than any she had experienced before in her lone lovemaking, it flooded her, she was a white flame that danced wildly, she twitched, quivered, trembled, convulsed, her legs were drawn up and straightened again in spasms and spasms and spasms. And Nicolas was there, his hands, his mouth. AHHHH. Slowly, slowly, it receded, she sank down, and she slept. On the other side of the thin wall Alain Carvagel wearing a woman's silk chemise lay on his bed, which he had pushed up against the wall to be close to Madame Cecile. With the fingers of one hand he caressed his nipples through the silk. The other gripped his stiff prick. He heard her soft cries, her moans becoming louder, then a wild shout. He gripped his swollen rod harder, he pulled the foreskin right back, he shuddered, he came, he shot off a great warm jet into a pair of his dead mothers lacy knickers... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of the hands of children. They should be outside playing in the sun, not thinking about adult situations. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 12