So Choisy continued to flit about from one Venice palace to another, arousing curiosity everywhere he went, and Francesca and Flavia de Rubo congratulated themselves on having such an ingenious and untiring lover. And they were pleased about their affairs being kept secret. The rich merchant of Verano did not suspect the night revelries of his mistress, and the marquess of Rubo still thought his wife was a model of virtue, and if some gossiper had told them the truth they would not have believed him. Nor would Choisy have ever been found out but for the marchioness's sudden sexual frenzy which induced her to spy on him.
Choisy was a lucky man indeed, and he knew it, for he had two mistresses, the brunette Francesca and the blonde Flavia, which varied his fare of love. Francesca was quite an expert in love-making. Should Choisy have experienced a sexual weakness, she would have known the way to arouse. She would have put on her best perfume and her most alluring clothes, she would have wiggled her hips just a little while walking and she would have held herself erect, with her stomach drawn in and her bust thrust prominently forward, and she would have worn her most audacious decollete, or else the likewise exciting opposite consisting of a blouse buttoned primly up to her neck but setting off to perfection the voluptuous curves of her bosom, also, she knew the fine art of caresses, and not necessarily the direct ones, but also those fleeting ones that make a man want more. But she never had to resort to any of those devices to arose Choisy's desire, for he was ever ripe-ready for her whenever he visited her and whatever her sexual greed was.
Nor had Flavia any complaint about her lover. Every time she managed to escape from her palace and join Choisy at his hotel she spent with him an hour or two and behaved like a bitch in heat. She did everything to him and wanted everything done to her, and, at the end, sighing contentedly she boasted to herself that if ever Choisy wanted to deceive her he would have no means to do so, for she had emptied him of all his virility. Or so of course she thought. For in reality there was always enough left in him, and he knew ways and means of making a woman come many times and yet be sparing in his own efforts. He did not behave like a young stripling too generous with his sap, but rather like a connoisseur who knew how to enjoy keeping in his energy and giving it away at the opportune moment. And so, quite often, only an hour or so after having enjoyed an amorous hour with Flavia, Choisy went to Francesca and experienced no weakness whatever. So, thanks to his ability and cleverness, Choisy managed to make his two mistresses believe firmly that he belonged exclusively to one woman alone.
To crown this charming imposture and place a convenient red-herring across the track, Choisy paid an assiduous court to Charlotte de Ransac, so that she herself and everyone else around her believed him in lover with her. She believed that Choisy had been unsuccessful in finding a mistress to his taste, so had come back to wooing her in the hope of winning her heart one day. Such is the vanity of women. Mrs. de Ransac firmly believed she was better than all the others and her conceit made her blind to the truth. So she savoured her would-be victory and took pleasure in arousing Choisy's desire by more or less openly flirting with him, which was playing into the hands of the marchioness, thus being covered up most conveniently and sheltered from any suspicion befalling her.
As for Mr. de Ransac himself, he smiled condescendingly at his wife's encouragements to Choisy, as he thought she was only playing with him. He could never seriously entertain the idea that Choisy might ever become his wife's lover, for was not Choisy openly an accomplice of the king's brother's antics of doubtful taste. In other words, Mr. de Ransac was among those people who firmly believed Choisy to be a homosexual because of his friendship with the king's brother and his masquerading as a woman.
Choisy did not fail to notice Mrs. de Ransac's recently avowed interest in himself. And he felt proud of it. He also tried hard to avail himself of the opportunity, although he knew that she would be far from an easy prey, for Charlotte had great matrimonial loyalty. But he never gave up, for he knew that it was not in character with women in general to remain for ever faithful to one man.
His unfailing acumen soon told him that Charlotte was falling into her own trap and that, by trying to arouse Choisy's desire, she was arousing her own towards him.
— She is like a ripening fruit, he thought, let me wait for the right moment and she will fall into my hand like a ripe pear from a tree.
But did he really want her? It was to him more a point of honour than a real desire. He wanted to avenge himself on his failure to win her love when he had tried hard to do so in Paris. Indeed, he doubted that she should be such a good loving creature as Francesca or Flavia. No, she would just represent another victory. She did not look sensual. Her complexion was of a pleasant freshness but her eyes did not throw out any promising sparks that are such an unmistakable sign to connoisseurs, nor had her lips the fleshy consistency that was an open invitation to kisses, as for her way of dressing, it did not reveal any voluptuous forms that make a man want to caress. On the whole he did not expect to get out of her any pleasurable sensual experience.
But there was no doubt about it: she was no longer the indifferent woman she used to be. She appeared at times so nervous that it could only be explained by a more and more imperious sexual impulse, she was still coquettish, but not in the same way-she had ceased to be merely ironical.
One day, Mr. de Ransac was sent away on a mission in Vicenza by the ambassador. During her husband's absence, all her friends invited her in order to make her feel less alone, and Choisy regularly joined her, thus strengthening everyone's belief that he was in love with her.
One evening, Choisy was one of the first guests to leave, and Charlotte de Ransac appreciated it as a tactful gesture. She went back to her apartments later, feeling quite happy with having been invited by such attentionate friends. As she came into her house, she was surprised not to find her maid waiting for her. She went into her bedroom and started undressing by herself.
Suddenly she let out a scream: Choisy had just come out of a cupboard where he had been in hiding.
— You, here?!
— Pardon me, but…
— Not a word out of you! Go out at once! Choisy remained firm before her.
— No, he said, you have nothing to fear from me, but please listen.
She was then wearing only a thin chemise, half transparent. Choisy could appreciate that she was not as lean as he had suspected. Her breasts were pointed and not insignificant, and, between her legs could be seen a darker triangle that made Choisy's imagination run away with him.
Charlotte noticed that he was scrutinizing her. She blushed and wrapped a negligee around herself. But that movement revealed that her loins were well-shaped and her buttocks more fleshy than Choisy had thought. He was very agreeably surprised.
Meanwhile, Charlotte de Ransac had regained her composure.
— Are you still here? she asked, sternly.
— I have not yet confessed to you the motive of this visit of mine which I know full well is unbecoming.
— You can tell me to-morrow.
— I can't, for, if I had been able to, I would have told you last night in the salon.
— Why?
— You see, it is such an intimate confession He made one step forward, and let himself fall on both knees before her, wrapping his arms around her legs.
— Please don't! she ordered, you're ridiculous.
— Because I love you?
She gave a little nervous titter.
— If you continue, I shall call for help.
— So that they should find me thus in your bedroom?
That prospect did not relish Charlotte at all, so she became less untractable.
— What is your purpose? she asked.
— I have been in Venice more than a month and I still have no mistresses. Just imagine, Choisy without a mistress! It is nothing short of a scandal — and all through your fault.
— My fault? But… Please take your hands off!
Choisy's hands were going up her legs and were palpating their tepid roundness, and he saw that his caresses were not without effect, for her legs had a slight tremor which betrayed her lack of indifference.
— Choisy, Choisy! Please…!
Too late! He had reached the crucial point between her thighs and he felt her legs squeeze so as to prevent any intrusion into the passage.
He got up and, holding her with one arm round her loins, he toyed with her breasts with his other hand. She was warm and scented in his arms and he was now sure of his eventual victory. It was just a question of time.
— Choisy, Choisy! What are you doing? It's very naughty of you!
She was trying to throw her head back out of reach of his searching lips, but his lips managed to find hers and get a kiss out of her. Not a good one at first, but the second one was much better, and, the while, she was aware of a caress on her skin Choisy had managed to remove her chemise and she was now naked in the arms of this man, intent upon seducing her at all costs.
— Oh, she murmured, what are you doing?
For he was lifting her up in his arms and, before laying her on the bed, Choisy gave a lick or two to her belly, which found itself at the level of his mouth as he was lifting her.
— No, no! she protested.
But she was already weakening. Her body, on the bed, was still nervous and on edge. But what can a woman do when she is naked on a bed with a man whose desire is so physically obvious and pressing? Choisy, bending over her, was whispering compliments into her ear.
— I would never have imagined you so beautiful, so tempting, so made to love and be loved, he said.
She had shut her eyes, but not her ears. With one hand, she tried to push him away, and Choisy used this diversion to get rid of his clothes after which he embraced her quickly. The contact of this naked man whose virility was demanding, against her own naked body touched off in her a velleity of refusal.
— Go away, Choisy! I swear I'll forget what passed between us.
She was still fidgeting and trying to oppose him, but he had overcome greater difficulties before now. With one knee he prised open her legs which she was keeping squeezed against each other and tried to force his way upwards. Charlotte de Ransac had placed herself on her stomach, believing that she would be impregnable. But, a while later, she felt that he had reached the crater of her womanhood, and was slowly but surely forcing his way in. She wriggled briskly to get away, but only succeeded in getting it still more firmly implanted. She renewed her last effort, dictated to her by her will-power but secretly also by her sensuality-in a flash, she saw herself irremediably lost. Maintained strongly by her victor she finally abandoned herself to the delirium of her senses, which was new to her for she had never felt quite like that with her husband. In an instinctive reflex, she suddenly opened herself and was now nothing but a female happily surrendering to the male.
Afterwards, there was for her conscience a painful moment, when she realized that, for the first time, she had been deceiving her husband. Yet, she had always sworn to herself that she would never give in to any man, and there she was, and Choisy charmingly prolonged her joy with furtive caresses along her body which quivered with delight.
— Choisy, she said softly, your patience has had its reward, so I detest you-you are a — an evil-doer? No, a benefactor, for have I not given you a full appreciation of all one can enjoy through lovemaking?
She did not dare deny it, so she lay down on her lover and offered her mouth to him. But Choisy was not content with such a meagre offer and busied himself with bringing about new traces. His practises convinced Charlotte who had now become another woman. She lay on her back and let Choisy make the inventory of her charms and prospect this feminine geography of hers down to its most exquisite contours and its innermost recesses.
Choisy was now creeping along Charlotte's body, and she remained passive, with a shudder of pleasure now and then. His expert hands were making again the inventory of this woman's body, offered to him. His fingers had now reached the grotto of love and with a touch of exquisite precision he gradually gave it back all its effervescence. Charlotte gingerly began the same work and suddenly her hand came into contact with a prick in repose, to which a few caresses gave back its full rigidity, a prelude to new assaults.
Then Choisy's mouth fixed itself on Charlotte's while the hands of both were continuing their caresses. Their tongues were working overtime and their bodies were one. The silence was broken only by a few sighs of bliss.
Then Charlotte unexpectedly went down between Choisy's legs and, with both hands, grasped the warm penis which she gratified with kisses and caresses. Choisy shuddered with immense pleasure. He had been hoping rather than expecting caresses, but he would never have expected such a sexual frenzy.
Charlotte now seemed to “drink” her lover, who was moaning with voluptuousness and begging her to stop. But she ignored him and continued her sucking. He contrived to master his impulses and put his hands round Charlotte's loins.
— Take me! Charlotte begged.
Choisy did not wait for her repeating it and it was his turn to give her the same kind of caresses which he had just received. With his head nestling in the compass of his mistress, Choisy gave her the deepest caresses, and inebriated himself with the sweetest of nectars.
Charlotte gave a passionate leap of her body and dislodged herself, then, seizing with vigour Choisy's iron-hard prick she prayed:
— Take me!. And, so saying, she guided the hot virility of Choisy into her grotto of love.
And now both their bodies were moving in unison and gradually increasing the speed of their thrusts. He had passed an arm underneath her and was kneading her palpitating buttocks. Then, his finger groped and finally found the other hole of her body and penetrated it slowly.
Charlotte gave a little scream which slowly became a moan and then silence punctuated with a few sighs.