The week passed by and I was waiting for Monty's second visit. He had sent me a note, couched in affectionate terms, assuring me that he would be in without fail.
Of my earlier patrons but two continued to call on me with faithful regularity; Mr. Thomas, and the effeminate Wainwright. Poor Daddy Heely was in a hospital, a nervous breakdown, according to reports. I wondered guiltily whether maybe the excitation my antics caused him had something to do with his condition. I had become quite fascinated with the Miss Innocence role I had built up for his edification, and had gone to extremes in thinking up erotic situations which could be presented to him in the guise of "maidenly" confidences. He was physically unable to savour the more material delights of concupiscence, and I had supplanted the lack with artfully designed mental and visual extravaganzas. Probably I had overstepped the mark in my enthusiasm, and sent him into a psychopathic ward.
Mr. Castle had simply disappeared. In addition to Monty I had another new patron of several weeks standing and indifferent qualities who had so far not distinguished himself by any eccentricities worth mentioning except one: he required that I be fully dressed on the occasion of his visits, and that I permit him to undress me. With ceremonial dignity by me, he divested me of my garments one by one until I stood before him, a modern Eve sans fig leaf. Thereafter, what took place was of orthodox regularity, a proceeding sanctioned by custom dating back into the most remote of prehistoric times as far as I know. In other words, he did just what men have been doing to girls since the dawn of time.
Monty had asked me to have a substantial supply of liquor available on his future visits and I had complied with the request. On a little tabouret near the bed was a quart bottle of Scotch whiskey of a mark he had indicated, together with a siphon of seltzer and glasses.
I hummed a song as I stood before the mirror for a last minute, inspection to be sure that my hair was just right and that my face was properly powdered and my lips the correct shade of red. But my thoughts were not on the song, nor more than casually on the face that was reflected from the depths of the big mirror. I was thinking, with delicious little quivers of anticipation, of the several hours of unchastely which were in the immediate perspective. I was sure he would "French" me again, for had I not confessed to him my predilection for the delicate caress? And if he did, and if he were nice to me in other ways, well, maybe I would repay him by doing again what I had done when I woke him up.
Hester said that after a girl started she was finished, because it grew on her. Nonsense. That might be true in some instances, and not in others.
Hester meant well, but she didn't know me as well as she thought she did. She had a room engagement herself tonight, but had slipped away for a few minutes to speak to me.
"You be careful with that man Austin, Jessie! He's not your type!"
Not my type, indeed! What kind of a man did she think my type was?
A senile old innocent like Daddy Heely, or a perverted fool like Mr.
Castle, whose one ambition in life was to do it to a girl in her bottom, or a semi lunatic like Wainwright, who paid a girl to let him masturbate all over her legs?
From all of which it will be seen that I was pretty well convinced I knew better what I wanted than Hester did.
Reflected in the mirror, I saw the door opening gently and the face, of the man I was thinking about appeared. I pretended not to have observed his entrance, and a second later he had clasped me from behind. With my knees hanging over his arm he lifted me into the air and buried his face in my bosom. I felt his hot breath on my breasts as he forced it through the texture of the scant garments which covered them.
"That's a nice way to come into a young lady's room, without even knocking," I scolded playfully. "Suppose I had been doing something I didn't want you to see?"
"In that case, I'd have, shut my eyes!" he responded. "But what would you be doing that you wouldn't want me to see?"
"Sometimes girls play with themselves when they feel naughty, and they wouldn't want a man to see that!"
"Ha!" he laughed, as he set me back on my feet and drew off his gloves.
"You're not confessing that you practice self-abuse, are you?"
"If I do, do you think I'd tell you?"
"Of course not! That's something no woman ever confesses to a man."
"Well, prepare for a shock then. I do it often."
"Amazing! I've known scores of girls and women and you're the only one that ever abused herself!"
"How do you know the others didn't?"
"Because I asked them and they said they didn't. Congratulations to you! Your score goes up another ten points!"
"Because I play with myself?"
"No! Because you admit it! Baby, you've given me an idea! I've… but wait… I'll speak of it later."
"Tell me now!"
"No; let's get comfortable and have a drink first. I've got lots of things I want to tell you."
"All right, but it's cruel to arouse a woman's curiosity and then make her wait."
"Let your curiosity suffer for a few minutes. I'll dispel it pretty soon."
"Well, then, let me hang up your things. Now sit down in this chair and make yourself comfortable. And here's that Scotch and seltzer you told me to get for you."
"It's for you, too. You like it, don't you?"
"Yes, but the trouble is, after I've had about three glasses I lose all my maidenly modesty."
"So much the better! Have three glasses right now!"
I laughed.
"Here goes number one. My modesty is now one third dissipated. What is it you've got to tell me first? I hope it's something nice."
"First, I want to tell you how absolutely topping you look. You're a good-looking girl no matter what you've got on, or haven't got on, of course, but those dresses, there's a sort of sophisticated childishness about them that's irresistible. They're devilishly ingenious. Are they your own idea, or did somebody else think them up?"
The dress referred to, as you may have guessed, was another of the little-girl frocks Daddy Heely had paid for. I had worn one the previous week and as it seemed to have taken Monty's fancy, I had selected another on the present occasion. It was a single-piece frock of black silk with a white belt, and long, tight sleeves. The cuffs, neck and breasts were lined with pleated ruffles and under laid with creamcoloured lace.
To go with these dresses I had some dainty high-heeled Spanish slippers and black silk hose which I rolled just above my knees and fastened with elastic band garters. Except for one detail the costume was eminently respectable. That detail was the extreme shortness of the dress.
It barely reached to my knees when I was standing, and when I sat in a normal posture there was no surplus material to be pulled down in a ladylike fashion. The dress was juvenile, but my legs were not. When I observed Daddy Heely's liking to sit on the floor at my feet I easily guessed the reason, and you can too.
Tonight, for certain optimistic reasons related to what Monty had first done on his previous visit, I had not put on any panties, and under the black silk frock was nothing except a diaphanous silk chemise, undervest, and brassiere.
I hesitated at this last question, not wanting to tell him the exact origin of the dresses, and as he did not press the query, I let it pass unanswered.
"What else have you to tell me?"
"Well, I must also tell you I've passed this whole blessed week positively thinking of nothing but you. I had such a ripping good time when I was here before that you've been on my mind ever since. The old pego has been in a continuous state of perturbation. Embarrassing at times, don't you know. Night before last I thought something really ought to be done about it. I tried the wife's door and it was unlocked, so I went in. She was asleep, or what I thought more likely, pretending to be asleep. The time is now, I thought, as I pulled the covers off her; the girl is here, and so is the place right there in the centre of her bird's nest.
If I hadn't been well soused, I'd have known better. This is what I got?"
And turning his face sidewise he indicated something I had not yet observed; three long, partially healed scratches down the length of his cheek.
"My heavens!" I exclaimed. "If she's like that, and you don't care for her, why do you want to do it with her?"
"Any port in a time of storm," he answered ruefully, shrugging his shoulders. "A man can't always make his cock behave."
"Well, I think that's strange! If I were a man and I didn't like a woman, I'm sure I wouldn't want to fuck her!"
"That's what you think, baby. When a man gets in a certain state, he has to do something. When I was in South Africa I even fucked kinkyheaded Kaffir girls. A half a loaf, or even a black loaf, is better than none!"
"And so, you got your pretty face scratched. It served you right. Is that all you got?"
"To all intents and purposes, yes. There were quite, a few commentaries and observations of an interesting nature thrown in for good measure."
I couldn't help laughing but at the same time, deep inside me, a little canker of jealousy that he should have wanted to do it with her began to form.
"Is your wife pretty?" I asked suddenly.
"About as pretty compared to you as a moth is in comparison to a beautiful, exotic butterfly."
His words relieved the vague foreboding which had come over me, and for the moment I forgot the matter.
"What else have you to tell me?"
"I want to ask you something. Suppose I should want to take you out some night to a show, a cabaret, a party, or maybe pass the night in a hotel, could you get away?"
"I guess so, I'd have to ask Madame Lafronde. She doesn't like to have, the girls go out, but sometimes she lets them. I've never been away all night. I suppose if you gave her something extra you could get her to let me, maybe."
"All right; that's that. She can't hold you in captivity. If she gets rambunctious I'll take care of things. And now that the incidentals are disposed of, the momentous question is: how shall we pass the night to get the most fun possible out of it?"
I leaned over close to him and, cupping my hands around my lips, slowly spelled out my recommendation in his ear: "F-u-c-k-i-n-g!"
"Moved, seconded, and unanimously adopted! Let's start!"
"Shall I get undressed now?"
"No, I want to enjoy that dress awhile first, if you don't mind rumpling it. Let's lie down on the bed and just tease for a little while."
"All right! But wait… you forgot something… you were going to tell me something else, you started to tell me and then you said you'd tell me later!"
"Ah, yes!" he exclaimed, laughing, sinking back into his chair. "Before I mention that, I think you'd better take those other two drinks!"
"Oh! It's something that's going to put a strain on my modesty, is it?"
"Better not ask any questions until after you've had the drinks."
"You're torturing me with curiosity! All right, here goes one… and… here goes the other. That makes three altogether. My modesty is now in a dormant state!"
"Well," he said, still laughing, "you put the idea in my head with your nonsense about playing with yourself. You made me think of something odd, a blank void in my life. I've been all over the world, I've lived with a dozen women more or less and enjoyed the transitory favours of hundreds of others. I've seen all kinds of naughty shows and exhibitions, and if anyone had asked me, I'd have sworn there wasn't a single act in the whole encyclopaedia of sexual arts I hadn't witnessed.
I've even seen actual rapes of young girls in show bagnios in Cairo. But while you were joking about abusing yourself it came over me that I never actually saw a girl masturbating herself. I mean, really by herself, just as though she were alone and nobody watching her."
"Oh, heavens! I know what's coming! Give me another drink, quick! My modesty never lived through three before, but ifs squirming and twitching now!"
"Listen, baby!" he exclaimed between convulsions of laughter, "I've had something squirming and twitching all week on account of you! I had it pretty well under control the last time, but it's ready to go off on the slightest provocation now, and I think I'd better not expose it to any direct heat, that is, if I want to keep it in a playful humour for a few hours!"
"What a lovely way of saying you want to keep a hard-on! All right, where do I fit into the picture?"
"Well, with the idea you put in my head, and having in mind your inexhaustible resources, I thought possibly you might be kind enough to stage a little entertainment, enjoy yourself voluptuously, and at the same time gratify my prurient curiosity. Kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes!"
I could not, of course, restrain my laughter, but at the same time the erotic titillations which the lewd suggestion evoked were vibrating through me and my face, felt like it was on fire.
"I guessed it. In plain words, you want to see me masturbate myself!
Well, I've done it when there was no man around, but it will be the first time I ever did it with one right by me!"
"Then you'll be accommodating?"
"Excellency, I'm yours, body and soul, and your slightest wish is my command! How… how…" I exclaimed, again gasping with laughter, "… how am I supposed to do it?"
"Don't ask me! I don't know how girls do it! I'm not even supposed to be here! You're doing it just as though you were alone!"
"Very well! But I'd better take another drink to make sure my modesty stays unconscious. It was never put to such a test before! Well, first, oh, ha, ha, ha, do I have to tell you what I'm thinking about while I'm doing it, too?"
"That would add greatly to the realism!"
"Well, first, I'm all alone, like you said, and I'm thinking about something I did with a man I liked… I'm thinking about what you and I did when you were here before…"
"Just a moment! I'm not supposed to be here, but you oblige, me to obtrude for a second. What you and I did when I was here before — we did a number of things. Be more specific in the interests of lucidity and realism!"
"Well, ha, ha, ha, I'm thinking of everything we did, and especially what you did to me first, while I was lying on the bed here, before I undressed!"
"Proceed. I'm withdrawn from the room again,"
"I'm thinking about how you licked me down there, and it makes me feel hot. My little thing in the top of my cunny gets hard and I'm wishing you were here to do that again. And the more I think of it, the worse it gets, and pretty soon I think I'd better do something to relieve the feeling.
"I can't decide at first whether I will or not, and I walk over to my bureau and get these pictures and take this one out and look at it…
"Excuse me for coming in again, let's see that picture… u-um!"
"As I was saying when I was interrupted by a phantom voice, I look at the picture. It's a very nice picture of a naked man and a naked woman, and the man has got his face, down between the woman's legs and he's doing something to her with his mouth. I think to myself, I wish that woman were me and the man Monty. But they aren't, so after I've looked at it awhile I put it back with the rest of the pictures and hide them under the clothes in my bureau.
"I think, what's the harm, I might as well do it, a little, anyway. So I come back to the bed and lie down on my back, like this, with my knees up and kind of apart, and pull my dress up out of the way.
"Then I put my hand down like this, with my two fingers, oh, ha, ha, ha, and shut my eyes, and, ha, ha, ha, rub this little, hard thing, kind of slow and easy, with just the tips of my fingers, and it feels awful good, and the more I rub it…"
At this point the realism I had injected into the pantomime threatened to overcome me, and I paused, hysterical with laughter.
"… and the more I rub… the more I rub…" I gasped… "the nicer it feels… until… until… the nice feeling… just seems to… burst inside me… OH!.. like it's… DOING NOW!"
I wiped away the tears which hysterical laughter had brought to my eyes. My face was burning as I turned toward my companion. His face, too, was a dull red; his reaction to the lewd portrayal had not been much less than my own. He sprang toward me, and I knew what he intended to do.
"No, no!" I panted. "Not now! Wait for me a moment! I'm dead down there now! Let me go wash myself and then I'll be all right!"
On unsteady feet I went to the bathroom and laved myself with tepid, scented water. Before I had finished my vitality was returning and the warm glow of voluptuous desire was beginning to re-establish itself.
"Well, Excellency, is your naughty curiosity satisfied? Now you know a girl's last secret!"
"Baby!" he answered in a tense voice, "that affected me more than it did you, I think. I was so near going off I couldn't have held it another second! Look at this…"
Unbuttoning the front of his trousers he took his cock out and displayed it, turgid and throbbing, to my eyes; he slipped the foreskin down and the plum-coloured head appeared, dripping with limpid moisture.
"Just sympathetic tears," he murmured, "I didn't come, but I was very close to it."
I went again to the bathroom and brought a small wet towel and wiped away the tears. "Careful! Careful!" he cautioned, as I fingered the palpitating column. "It won't take much to release the trigger! I'll have to let the fire die down a little before I put it in you, baby, and meanwhile…" he smiled understandingly, "… and meanwhile, you can lie down on the bed and take it easy while I pay you back for entertaining me in such a realistic way!"
"Shall I get undressed?"
"No, just lie down like you were a minute ago. You were really entrancing with your little dress up and the white of your bottom and thighs against the black background of dress and hose. That's it… just like, you were before… with your knees up and your legs apart!"
He sat down on the edge of the bed, passed his fingers over the crevice between my legs in a lingering caress, and then his mouth descended on it.
What havoc an ardent, enthusiastic tongue can work in a girl's cunny! I tried to steel my nerves against it to prolong the exquisite sensation, but it was no use, I couldn't hold it back long and all too soon I was melting in his mouth. As the echoes died away, I pushed him from me to lie for a while in fainting languor.
It would take too long to relate all that transpired during those mad, sensuous hours, even if I could remember every act in all its lewd details. Suffice, it to draw the curtain with the final scene wherein, hours later, intoxicated both with liquor and lust, I perceived that Monty's face was again between my thighs, his hot lips pressed against my cunny. My dress, now displaced and rumpled, partly hid his face as he sucked and licked the avid flesh. He himself had long since disrobed and was completely naked.
As he crouched over me I could see his cock, still enticingly rigid, as it projected its muscular length outward.
"Turn this direction, Monty!" I whispered, "so we can do it the 69 way!"
He reversed his position and the next moment it was touching my lips in a moist kiss as he knelt over my face and again buried his own between my trembling thighs. My lips shaped themselves in a tight ring around its mouth and neck and took the, visitor in.
The odd, indescribable savour again filled my mouth, breeding within me, not distaste or disgust, but a wild hunger to feel it spurting like a hot fountain in my mouth and throat. So imperious was the urge, that I scarcely now heeded the penetrating tongue which but a moment before had evoked such exquisite, torment. I thought of nothing but to drain the nectar from the living flesh about which my lips were pursed, to receive its hot gushes in my mouth.
It would give me an orgasm even quicker than having my clitoris sucked. I felt it, I knew it, the poison had entered my soul, this, this was the supreme act of voluptuous delight, and nothing hereafter would ever give me the same thrill. All else would be incidental, superficial, this was the ultimate caress by the side of which all others receded into nothingness.