Monique, quite exhausted, went to bed early, but could not sleep well. She dreamed all night about whipped brides, raped and sodomized women, white veils symbolically covering half naked bodies…
The next morning Monique realized that she needed the contact of the male, and she decided that she would soon remedy that lack in her needs.
In the morning she got her kicks with little Jacques and let him contemplate her belly and her intimacies, and she also let him suck for a long time at her breasts.
Around noon, she called Darcourt on the phone. He was very happy over it, and asked her whether she would like to come to his place for a glass of port after the bath. He said that he was receiving two monks.
“Then in plain clothes?” asked Monique disappointed.
Max hesitated, then:
“Well, half and half, unless my instinct is completely wrong.
“I think you will have to play quite a part after the usual glass of port. They are interested in art, and whoever says art, means amateur of beauty. I do not think that you will have to put on any underclothes, after all, I have such good mirrors at home.”
Monique smiled and accepted.
On the beach she told Janine that she could not stay with her; the poor child was very upset over it all. Then Monique returned home to get dressed. She put on transparent black silk stockings, high heels, and then hesitated a little in front of her drawers, trying to find out the most suitable attire. She finally selected a black silk skirt, that went slightly above the knee, and a long sleeved, black cotton cardigan. She added a little white lace collar; no powder, no rouge, but a little beret on her simply combed hair, that added to her childish looks. She thought that her breasts were showing outrageously, and put on a little black bolero. A book in one hand, she crossed the little wood that separated her villa from Max's home. He was in the sitting room, in full conversation with two monks in their forties, looking smart and rather handsome. Her bolero open, her legs crossed higher than usual, Monique was taking part in the conversation, trying to follow the men's eyes under her skirt.
She was hot, having too many clothes on her. Max realized it and suggested:
“Why don't you take off your bolero, you must be boiling?”
“Well, as I have nothing under my cardigan, I am afraid that I would not be too decent.”
“Now, now,” said one of the monks, “I hope that this will not stop you. We do not want to be the cause of your discomfort, and your cardigan, that fits you quite well, could not be more decent. Besides, this is just a friendly reunion, is it not Darcourt?”
He agreed, Monique stood up and took off her bolero, her voluminous bosom immediately showing under the too thin material, like a pair of gorgeous cantaloupes. She was watching their excitement grow in their eyes, and was getting her kicks from it. She looked like a little schoolgirl as to her face, but a fully formed woman as to the figure.
Max asked her to be the maid of the house, and she accepted, her natural taste for exhibitionism finding a perfect way to express itself in that occupation.
She brought a little table, made of glass, to the window. It was a very nice old-fashioned iron-mongered thing, that hardly came level to her knee. She placed four glasses on it. On a nearby tray she placed the bottle filled with cool and sparkling wine.
The three men came close. Her back to the window, Monique faced them across the table, her knees touching it. She started pouring the liquid in the glasses. It took her one single glimpse to see that her trick was a complete success. The three men, while speaking more slowly, were staring at the table, on which the skirt, open like a lamp shade, was reflecting the thighs and the velvety triangle of her pubis. Max glanced approvingly at Monique's showing how much he appreciated her delightful idea.
She gave him a glass, then turning around she offered them, while preparing the cake, the exciting sight of her tightly closed buttocks and rotund bottom.
The collation went on like that: the white wine, but also the pointing breasts under the cardigan, the thighs outrageously displayed by the mirror of the table, were as many reasons to the men's excitement. While cutting the cake she opened her thighs, and when she turned around she guessed, by the way they looked, that the men had completely discovered the secrets of her femininity.
But she soon got another idea. As they thought that the weather was delightful, she proposed to carry some cushions to the window, and they all sat on the ground, facing the sea. She then cleared the glass table, feeling if it was solid, and then sat on it, to avoid catching her skirt under buttocks. Her flesh was in contact with the cold mirror. She crossed her legs, and the skirt was lifted over the knees. Monique was slightly reclining, her hands on the table, smoking an oriental cigarette. Under the skirt, the closed thighs, half leaning on the table, were reflected in a symphony of blacks and whites.
The men, facing her now, were looking at the silk clothed flesh, and the little bar of the garters, on each side of her thighs. Little by little Monique opened her legs, slowly displaying for them the inside of her thighs and its reflection. Through the screen of her eyelashes she was following the eyes of the men, impatiently waiting for the moment when the compass of her legs would be open largely enough to allow a complete vision of her sex. Out of fun, she moved her knees very slowly, then suddenly she bent on one side, to put the ashes of her cigarette in an ashtray on the table by her side. She opened her legs completely, uplifting one for more security. She remained like that for a good moment, excited by the sudden density of the silence, and also by the caress of all the looks that she knew were on her legs, on her sex. The men's throats were hard and dry, their eyes shining. They were contemplating, under the relative shelter of the black skirt, higher than the black silk stockings and the garters, between the plump and pulpy thighs, the fair hair of her pubis, as a crown on her cunt between the lips of her mount of Venus. The mirror was reflecting it too, and the men were facing a twin image. Monique innocently resumed a more natural position. Then tactfully started again answering the questions in the discussion trying to avoid the looks of the men on her anatomy, including Max's. Then once again she opened her legs and played with the men's desires for several times. Max himself did not know what to think about the Monk's attitude; they were excited but nothing was happening.
Monique got up, and once again served some alcoholic beverages, and each time she was revealing her charms in the mirror of the table. A lusty ambiance was beginning to come in the darkening room. The sunset was giving off strange red lights that accentuated the voluptuous character of the place, and of what was happening, or going to happen in it.
One of the monks clumsily spoiled his white dress with liquor.
“Monique, would you please show our friend to the bathroom and with your fairy fingers repair that little damage?”
“Of course. Please, father, follow me.”
The stairs are dark, and Monique does not turn the light on. She climbs the steps slowly, side by side with the monk. He takes her by the arm, his hand shaking with desire:
“What a charming guide you are for such an escalade.”
She laughs softly, and through the dark and narrow passage, brings him in the bathroom. She turns the lights on, and easily with some water, fixes everything alright. He is blushing, his desire is evident, but he does not know what to say. Everything is silent; they go out. She turns the lights off, and they are together again in the dark corridor.
“Damn it,” says Monique, “I do not know where the button to the light is hidden.”
“I know it,” says the man by her side.
And his hands are on the blouse. He takes the young girl in his arms, and, through the thin material he caresses the nipples, already erected.
“Oh,” says Monique, “no, you should not. It is wrong, you must not-leave me alone.”
But she does not really resist when the two nervous hands lift her cardigan up, and free the two breasts. A warm breathing on her skin, a mouth that seizes her nipple. An intense sucking. Monique protests a little bit, just for decency's sake, and lets the hands that have already lifted the skirt high above the waist, caress the buttocks and then the belly, the crotch.
She pushes away from him.
“No, not that! You are exciting me, and what would Darcourt say?”
She takes him back to the sitting room, and leaves enough disorder in her attire so that everyone will understand… her breasts are sharply pointed under the cardigan. She serves some more liquor while the two monks are speaking confidentially together.
Shortly afterwards, the other monk, taking advantage of the fact that Max is showing some drawings to his colleague, asks Monique to show him to the bathroom. They have hardly reached the stairs, when she feels two hands caressing her bottom, uplifting her skirt. A mouth glues itself to her flesh, in long warm kisses. She lets the man take her in his arms, the cardigan is rolled around her neck, and two hands caress the opulent teats. Soon after a mouth sucks at her nipples.
Once again, her buttocks are receiving the caresses from nervous hands. An inquiring finger is titillating her asshole while a penetrating forefinger seeks at her sex. She feels suddenly under her hand, along her body, that the monk is placing his erected prick. She takes the shivering rod between her fingers and caresses the tool while the man masturbates her passionately.
The monk suddenly glues his belly to hers, and tries to insinuate his prick between her legs.
“No, no, not that. I am a virgin.”
He stops, surprised, and his fingers checks that revealed particularity. She twists, surprised by that unexpected contact, and she turns around. He leans her against the wall and suddenly she feels, to her surprise, the prick sliding between the globes of her buttocks like a plough. She feels the hard texture of that muscular flesh. He whispers ardent words by her ear, one of his hands caressing her breasts, and the other one alternating between her ass and her sex.
“Let me slide in you. Just a little, nothing. Yes, just a little…”
She shakes her head…
“No, leave me alone. Are you insane? No!”
But she desires to be ass fucked by that man who does not seem to be really master of his senses. She tries to move away, and only succeeds in presenting her teats to him.
He immediately sucks greedily at the nipples. While he caresses her, he places his prick between her fingers. She enjoys caressing that hard and soft flesh. She presses the cylinder and caresses the round head; she feels the pulse in it. The balls are round and full, the hair hard and curly. She feels desire in her veins. If he could only guess it. He becomes demanding, bends to suck some more at the tense flesh of her bosom. The prick slides away from the finger's embrace and that breaks the enchantment. All of a sudden she is ashamed, and she fixes her dress. He follows her downstairs, in silence.
In the sitting room, nobody is paying attention to them, but at a glance at Max, she realizes that he was not expecting them that soon. She is disappointed, and nervous, she does not serve properly; soon she breaks a glass and answer Max's reproach very roughly.
Then everything moves fast, like in a dream. She sees the room turn upside down, feels Darcourt's arm around her waist, and then she felt Max's powerful thighs paralyzing her, and her skirt lifted up. Her bottom was revealed in the sunset light. The two monks were staring at the offered bottom, the closed thighs, and the propped buttocks. Already she was slapped on her fanny. She moaned and cried-was it pain? shame? pleasure? or merely surprise? She never knew it.
“No, no-not that, Darcourt. Are you out of your head?”
But he would not listen to the young girl's supplication, and would go on with his spanking of her rotundities. Oh, it was not a hard one. He did not want to hurt her, but simply to bring her to that state of excitement that he knew so well, so that she would become his thing, and also his guests' thing. He did not know whether she would let foreign pricks penetrate that perfect bottom, but he wanted his guests to take pleasure, at least intellectually, in contemplating her delicate charms. And the slapping went on, only punctuated by her cries and the sighs of desire of the men, contemplating that beauty maintained between Max's knees.
Soon enough the bottom was red. An intense warmth irradiated her body bringing a new excitement to it. Her pulse was beating hard at her temples. She resisted for a long moment the order that he gave her to open her thighs. And she only gave up when her flesh could not take the pain any more. Then, like a dismantled puppet, she opened and revealed to the men her splendid little pink slit, with her puckered asshole, like some mysterious fruit laying between the two globes of her buttocks.
Silence came again, and Monique enjoyed the sensation of being admired like a caress on her unveiled femininity.
Max said: “I hope that you will forgive her little misfortune… And I also hope that you think that she was punished severely enough?”
“Yes, my friend, that little girl paid enough for that menial sin, her flesh is burning enough (she felt hands on her buttocks) but, to my humble opinion, she deserves little mortification that will persuade her of the importance of the mistake that she committed. What would you think if we asked her to serve us another glass of that delightful liquor in the attire of our good mother Eve?”
“That is what I call a good idea. Did you hear my child?”
“Oh, not that, I do not accept. Now Dar-court hear me. I refuse. Oooh, Oooh, enough, enough, no, I hurt too much… enough… Aaah, yes, I will…”
The blows were falling on her buttocks, fast, hard and dry… And the bottom was twisting in all directions, without great care of the suggestive visions that it allowed when the legs were accidentally opening.
Max stopped spanking, his hand burning.
“I will,” she repeated weakly, completely subdued. But I would like for you to turn all the lights out.”
“Did you hear?” asked Max to his friends with a queer smile.
“Yes for this time we accept that the penitence shall be effected in such a way.”
Max moved away from her. Her pulse was beating hard at her temples. She pulled her skirt down, but she was already feeling the pleasure to show herself naked to those men.
“Come now little girl, pour us some drinks, and do not force me to remind you of your promise.”
Max took his friend to one corner of the room, still lit by the sunset. They sat on low chairs. Monique went to the shade at the other end of the sitting room. They heard the whisper of the silk against her skin, and guessed the pallor of the naked body in the semi-darkness. The tinkle of glasses, and soon the magnificent body, with its arrogant breasts hardly moving when she was walking came to them. She served them one by one, experiencing a wonderful pleasure in showing her body to those excited men whose eyes were examining each detail… each contour.
She showed them everything, she drank with them, her belly level with their face so they could see her flesh palpitate. Even Max was under the charm. No one dared to try to caress her, or even to move toward her. She went back in the shade and got dressed again. She came back with them and took her glass; she sipped it, and said:
“I am sorry but I will have to leave now or I will be late for dinner.”
“Already?” said Max, “why not stay for dinner with us?”
“Thank you, but I really cannot, I promised that I would be home for dinner, but I will come back another evening.”
“Tonight?”
“No, that would not be easy…”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, tomorrow, around nine o'clock. Where?”
“Here, my friends will certainly come here and join us?”
“Yes, we will, we will do the impossible and free ourselves to come and chit chat with that charming young girl. I hope that she is not angry at us for the slight correction that she received?”
“Hush, bad boys,” said Monique shaking hands with them.” I will see you tomorrow, and then I hope that I will not deserve any punishment.
“That we will have to decide,” said Dar-court. “And it is quite possible that that beautiful body will have to dance tomorrow too.”
“I love dancing, my dear Darcourt, but it is not always the same kind of dance that has my preference. Remember it.”
Monique went back to her home, quite mixed up. She was at the same time, disappointed and happy. Happy because she had really loved to be examined by those greedy eyes, but disappointed at Darcourt, because- she had to admit it-he had really hurt her in that spanking, and her bottom was hurting her just to think about it.
Fortunately, Sonia was late and not in a talkative mood. She went in her room, then Monique heard her go out soon after. The young Jacques clung to her, and she took him to her room, craving for his caresses. She went by the window, enjoying the cool evening breeze, and then she felt the child's warm breath against the still painful flesh of her buttocks. She widened the angle of her legs under the pressure of the two hands and bent forward, offering her protruding naked buttocks to the caress of the young face. His tongue insinuated between the two heavy globes and soon reached the tip of her sex. He was licking the whole slit, drilling at her asshole, and then sucking at her cunt, in a persistent and deep sucking that made her come in a violent spasm. Hiding her head between her folded arms, Monique let the evening air carry her moans away, twice.
On the next day, she found little Janine right after the bath, and she had immediately to undergo the deep and savage embrace of that juvenile body. What passion in that worship of her breasts and sex, what ardent caresses!
Monique was left motionless after that tender assault.
When the child was calmed, Monique started asking questions again.
On the day after the bride's rape, Barral had been out most of the day. Janine had been alone with Solange all day, quite bored, and at night she went to the maid's room. One thing bringing another, and one caress another too, they soon were naked, and the maid gave up in front of such a sweet insistence. Soon it was a concert of sighs and voluptuous moans in the maid's room.
At night, Barral, under some false pretense, had had Janine whipped in a most humiliating and indecent attitude, but he did not ass fuck her. A few cries in the night, and later on the noise of Barral going back to his room, told Janine that Solange had taken care and profit of the excitation that she had aroused in him. Solange confirmed it the very next day.
Monique pushed Janine's head away before she could reach the sensitive and damp spot between her legs. She got up and put some order in her clothing while saying good bye to the young girl.
She went back to the deserted house, and took a cold shower. Soon after that, Jacques was sent to bed because he proved himself unbearable. She went to her room and remained on her bed, naked, just thinking about what she would do the same night. Some friends came in and took Sonia out. Monique hesitated for a very long time before choosing the dress that she would wear on that promising evening. Then she decided to take the pleated skirt of her folklore dress and the bodice, only closed by some tiny buttons that seemed ready to come undone at the first move from the generous breasts. She placed her little black velvet cap on her head, and then realized that she was the perfect picture of a high school student, with a precocious figure. She put on very little makeup, and black silk stockings. Black high heel shoes completed her alluring attire. When she felt ready, she went to Max's villa.
Everything was dark. She went to the sitting room, and immediately understood what was expected of her. The mirror was posed on the ground with the little lamps that only lit the surface. Max and the two silent monks got up, and kissed her hand. They were silent. She was amongst them, standing on the mirror, and she was looking at their tense faces, looking at the revealing mirror under her closed thighs. She did not move for a moment, letting them enjoy the vision of the white flesh the black silk stockings. Then Max pinched at one of her nipples, through the flimsy material of her blouse.
Monique sighed, understanding what they were expecting from her. At first she resisted, and then she twisted her belly and her bottom, and slowly opened the voluptuous compass of her perfectly shaped legs. The sex appeared, a deep pink slit between the fair-haired lips. The thighs came more and more apart, and then nothing of her intimacy was left to the imagination of the three contemplating men.
Max stopped pinching Monique's breasts. All the men were watching the beautiful display in the mirror. Then Monique was authorized by Max to walk off the mirror and to go and put her gloves and purse in a nearby closet.
Max came by her and opened her blouse. The two magnificent breasts popped out like two succulent fruits, with their erected and hard nipples. Max kissed each nipple, and then took the rest of her clothes away. She felt hands on her and she realized that she was being put on a kind of bed, lying on her back. Her arms and legs were like the branches of a capital X.
Then suddenly she shivered and trembled at the same time. Three greedy mouths were glued to her nipples and to her cunt. She was not touched by one hand. She had no contact whatsoever except for those three sucking mouths on her hungry body. Monique understood the kind of pleasure that was on store for her, and she opened her arms and legs even more widely. She could not care less who was titillating her cunt or sucking at her teats, the only thing that really mattered was that humming love song coming through her half parted lips. The pleasure. The spasms surprised her, violent, and unexpected. She had to take upon herself not to dig her fingers in the hair of the men that were glued at her nipples and at her sex. She wanted to press harder on the head that was eating her clitoris, erected between her round thighs. She tried to resist, but she could not, and leaning on those unknown heads, she came passionately and fell convulsed on the velvet covering of the bed.
They were already going away from her, and letting her recover her mind. They were still not touching her… But, little by little, the three mouths resumed their former position, and Monique, whose youth allowed such exercise, came another time under the triple anonymous sucking. But this time, nervous hands were caressing her nervous belly and her hardened breasts. She recognized Max's particular way of sucking between her legs, and she drew her thighs close together, feeling his cheeks between them. Another titillated clitoris let go between the lips of her beloved friend, another dose of come juices. She begged for mercy, and they silently let her go quiet again, but they did not stop caressing her body lightly all the time. She heard them discuss together and Max asked her to kneel down, her legs wide open. She was worried when she felt the monk behind her.
Suddenly she let out a sharp cry of surprise. A face was glued to her propped buttocks a tongue was insinuating between the separated globes. The mouth was closing on the puckered lips of her asshole as it would have kissed another mouth, and the tongue titillated the edges, and then penetrated her ass. Giving her an unknown feeling of joy. The young girl gave herself completely to the new caress. The tongue was drilling in her hole, and infiltrating deeper. It was most exciting. What sighs she let out under that unequaled pleasure.
And the monk kept going on with his wonderful caress. Monique was uttering deep and throaty moans, letting her joy come, and reach the climax. Finally she came, her fingers rasped the velvet bedcloth, and she let out a last loud cry. The monk felt the shuddering body on his face still dug between the undulating buttocks. The bottom seemed to want to absorb the sucking mouth-and then came another cry, similar to the first. She fell on the bed completely motionless, her resistance-if she had had any-broken by the violence of the newly experienced pleasure.
After a little while, she got up again. She could not see anything, all lights were turned off. In the night, a voice (she recognized Max's) whispered by her side:
“As the little girl has been really good, she can now choose a nice lollipop, as a matter of fact she will have three big lollipops, but she will have to go and get them, one by one. Come on little girl, try to find in the dark the reward for your good behavior.
And he pushed her to the middle of the room.
Monique was deeply excited to be naked in the dark amidst the three men, mad with desire. What were they going to demand of her? She knew of course that she was going to support their assaults, and the penetration of their erected tools. But how?
One by one, were Max's words.
She moved, completely blind, her arms in front of her. She met a body with clerical dress. Her fingers seized the motionless shoulders, went down to the belly that was naked, and grabbed the erected prick. The man was sitting down, legs apart. The rod was thin, rather long. He posed his hand on her head; she bent, and found the burning flesh against her cheeks. She opened her mouth and immediately had the pole in her mouth down to her throat. She hiccuped when it met the lowest part of her palate. Then, in the silent room, was heard the noise of the sucking. Monique was not really an expert, and she preferred to suck at women than men, but maybe that was going to prove a supplementary charm. She knew by the hard pressing of the man's hands on her hair that he found the suction agreeable. She was suddenly frightened by the idea of the shameful position in which she was kneeling in front of that naked belly and sucking at the man's virility. She raised her head, but he pushed her down and obliged her to resume her position and take him. Then, at the contact of the hand, she knew that she had found her master, and she abandoned all modesty and gave herself completely to the task of sucking at his prick. Her lips coated the phallus, and her tongue softly titillated the smallest contours of the protruding head.
But the monk pushed the young girl away, helped her up, and made her bend forward. Monique leaned upon the seat where the monk was sitting. She instinctively opened her legs and offered her bottom, keeping one hand on her pussy, to prevent any attempt to break her virginity. But she only felt the caress of the prick between the separated globes, and then the resistance of her asshole, to the penetration. She closed her eyes, waiting for the hard pain when he would rush in her, but he was very sweet and progressive. He moved in, thrusting his tool slowly and with little pushes. She hardly sighed when he finally touched the flesh of her ass with his belly. And then came the delightful act of sodomy. She purred like a kitten, enjoying it with all her body. The more the man was enjoying her, the more violent was the slap when their bodies met. The man uttered a couple of hoarse moans and the girl a few happy cries. Then came the spasm, and the satisfied sighs of the couple, tumbling over each other on the bed.
The man removed his tool from the impaled girl, and reanimated her by some very soft suckings at her breasts. When he left that she was completely awakened, he pushed her again to the center of the room.
Once again, Monique faced her former sensation, naked in the dark room. She reached the place where the other monk was waiting. He did the same thing, giving the breasts long and encircling kisses, while placing his tool on her hand. She felt its size, and was frightened by it, like the day before, in the corridor. But he was impatient and he bent her forwards. His bulging phallus bumped against the slimy and narrow mouth. She offered herself to that erected snake. He bent and aimed till he was sure that his huge tool was perfectly in the axis of her hole. Monique felt the nervous and trembling fingers on her own flesh, trembling with desire. A long loud cry came, as though she was expecting it. She realized the size of the tool by the force of the penetration in her. He had penetrated her with one thrust. Her puckered mouth, inflamed, distended, forced, was hurting her, but she could feel the burning phallus deep in her, vibrating and quivering with joy.
Fortunately enough, the man had only forced a sheath that had been already prepared by his ass fucking. He was gasping a little, his mouth on Monique's neck, and suddenly he agitated his member in her soiled belly and the pleasure came, unavoidably. She forgot the pain, and gave herself completely to the pleasure of the so beloved act.
He made her come her best, and when she fell in a last cry of satisfaction, he had just spat in her his slimy and burning sap. He brought her back to consciousness, remaining in her, his belly glued to her ass. Then when he felt that she was available again, he pushed her to the center of the room. She hesitated, but felt the presence of Max by her, bending her and her ass, filled to the brim by the other's sperm, she received his sperm in her, full of unsatisfied desires.
He moved out of her, and took her to the corner where she had abandoned her clothes:
“Now little girl, go and get ready after your little toilet, but do not be too long or you will be late for the reception.”
In the dark she climbed the stairs, and uttered a little cry of surprise when she bumped against a body. She was embraced, and could hardly feel the hard material of the monastic dress, the naked belly, and the erected prick. She was already turned around. She leaned against the stones of the wall and she felt the head of a prick stop against her asshole, dripping with the juices of former intercourses. She did not refuse herself to the male who was taking her for the second time, and she recognized the thin and long prick that she had sucked earlier during the evening. She clenched her teeth and tried not to react too violently, but she could not withhold two loud cries when the spasms seized her. Gasping, she ran to the bathroom while the monk went silently to the sitting room.
When she came back, a little lamp was giving the whole room an intimate and cozy atmosphere. They all got up, and came to her:
“Good evening little girl, how late you are. Did you enjoy your afternoon,” and other banalities of the same kind. She entered the game immediately, and they talked on in the most mundane way. The only clues tending to prove that something had happened were the subtle smell of the orgy, and a dim pain in her four-times-penetrated asshole.
She served the drinks and they all admired the opulent curves and the graceful allure of the girl, her splendid legs under the too short skirt, and her childish looks.
But it was getting late. She said good-bye, standing on the mirror, her open legs displaying charms of her femininity. She refused to be taken home, and walked through the woods at a good pace, delightfully tired.
When she reached the villa, she had to hide. Sonia was arriving in a car, by the headlight she could see that she was naked under her long cape, and that she was carrying her dress over her arm. Two people got out of the car, and came to kiss her good night, another woman kissed her teats, and then got back in the car. Sonia went in the villa.
Monique, quite amused, waited for a little while before going to her room.
She slept like a log till nine the next morning. At noon she received a little parcel from Max and his friends-it was a little mirror for her toilet table.
In the afternoon she went to the beach alone, abandoning her body to the foamy waves and the joys of sport. She wanted to remain calm, so she did not try to meet Janine. She spent her evening alone with a rather silent Sonia, and once again the bed received her for a whole trip around the clock.