Choisy was obligated to take precautions, with the three mistresses he now had. But he composed to himself a menu like a gourmet, which he was. Now the blonde, now the brunette and now Mrs. de Ransac, his new conquest. Sometimes, waking up, he said to himself: “today, I shall be frugal.”
And that usually meant that he would go to Mrs. de Ransac. She was still fond of him but they did not often have intercourse together for she was careful not to be caught in the act or even to arouse suspicion. Indeed, her friends would never have suspected such a sensual frenzy in her. If Choisy chose to be frugal it was because of a judicious estimation of Charlotte's charms, which were less abundant than those of Francesca or Flavia, who were plumper. Charlotte's body had less pronounced curves but she had proved that she was quite as voluptuous, to the point of perversion even.
Choisy enjoyed loving thus secretly on three fronts. He had long ago passed the age when he used to boast about his conquests. He now preferred enjoying them secretly, savouring them to himself while all his friends and acquaintances had no inkling of suspicion.
Venice had by now judged him to be either a woman or an effeminate boy, but in any case without temperament-a spirit, a pure spirit, with his real sex a puzzle.
One evening, as a man in a salon asked the marchioness on the object, she answered huffily:
— Let's say he is a hermaphrodite and leave it at that!
That put paid to further inquiries. The marchioness had an authority which no one disputed. And everybody went on judging Choisy as incapable of sexual relationship and nobody ever had the suspicion that the marchioness should express such an opinion in order to throw a red herring across the track and prevent people from suspecting that she had an affair with Choisy.
At that time there was a Polish girl named Hilda as a guest at the marchioness's. She had just arrived in Venice and was interested by the gossip about Choisy. Her hair was the colour of ripe corn and her manners were unaffected and slightly tomboyish. She did not mince her words but managed not to shock her listeners, perhaps because her foreign accent distracted from the meaning of her words.
Choisy came into the salon and bowed to the marchioness, who introduced him to the Polish girl. As he saw her sparkling eyes in her sun-tanned complexion he experienced a sensual shock not unlike an electric one. But he had enough self-control not to show his impressions and exchanged a few amiable commonplaces with her.
A few minutes later he found himself beside a certain Mr. Molieri, an aged Venetian, a much-traveled fellow, and asked him discreetly about Hilda.
— Do you know this person?
— Don't you know her? You should do, having travelled as much as you have, Molieri answered, and went on in a whisper: she has already been exiled from Moscow, London, Vienna and Berlin.
— Why on earth? Is she a spy for the Pope?
— She has no business with the Pope or with politics, but she works havoc in good society.
— Come to think of it, she does have a diabolic look.
— You have nothing to be afraid of, anyway- she only goes for pretty women.
— Is she a Lesbian? exclaimed Choisy, amused.
— That's right-she's seduced virtuous wives and even virgins-hence the scandals that have brought about her many evictions.
— This kind of perversion is hardly known in Venice, Choisy pointed out.
— And very much frowned upon. Molieri added.
— Perhaps she's come here for a sexual fast, suggested Choisy.
— We sincerely hope so.
— What are you two plotting? asked the smiling marchioness who had come upon them.
— Our dear count was a little puzzled by Miss Hilda, Molieri explained.
Flavia laughed.
— Oh, her? she said, you should explain to the count what she really is.
— He's done that, said Choisy, she wouldn't have any luck with the Venetian women, would she?
— Those who would succumb would not boast about it, said the marchioness.
— That would be better for all concerned, Molieri said.
The marchioness winked furtively at Choisy and went on her way to entertain other guests.
Some time later, Choisy went on a gondola to visit Francesca, who had told him he could come without a disguise for her rich protector was away on a trip.
Rocked by the gentle lapping of the water, Choisy mused.
— This Polish girl, she is a Lesbian probably because she has not known a real lover he thought.
He talked it over with Francesca.
— Have you made up your mind to convert her? she asked ironically.
— I have better things to do, Choisy answered, caressing her breasts and cunt.
— Those kind of women, she said, only give us a hors-d'oeuvre, they whet our appetite, but for the main dish we need this.
And, with her tapering fingers, she took hold of Choisy's warm penis which was as stiff as a rod.
— Without this, she went on, it's just monkeying about.
— But, Choisy remarked, with that special kind of intercourse, the victimized party is the passive woman. The active girl must feel a voluptuousness unknown to us normal individuals.
— And I don't particularly want to, said Francesca, for you, that kind of thing is a prelude-what if you had to be content with it?
Choisy did not answer that question-he had reached the point where a man cannot restrain himself any longer and has to get rid of his venom. The two lovers had better things to do than to discuss such a hypothetical subject.
He continued his caresses for a while longer, and, as he felt she was ripe-ready. He lay on top of her and drove his rod into her. She sighed and bit the skin of his neck, and he buried his nose in her scented black hair.
But he could not keep his mind off that girl Hilda. Francesca, after her first fire was consumed and they were both resting awhile, guessed it from the abstracted air on his face.
— What are you thinking of? she asked, frowning.
— What can a man be thinking of who has just fulfilled his duty so gallantly, Choisy answered diplomatically.
— He should think about giving yet another proof of his virility, she said.
— I shall see to that pronto! he retorted.
He ran his lips over her naked flesh which gave little spasmodic shudders of gratification. His lips paused awhile on the rotundities of her sensual breasts and made her nipples grow and tauten, then they went down to the fleshy button and worked on it till the woman moaned and squirmed with intemperate pleasure, and he finished her off with a good fucking that fairly shook her entrails.
One morning, after he had spent a short but momentous time with Charlotte de Ransac, he was loafing in the market part of the town, still thinking of Hilda, when suddenly he spotted her.
She was alone and he grasped this heaven-sent opportunity. He walked towards her and pretended he was meeting her by pure chance.
— Shopping? he asked her pleasantly.
Choisy's mode of dressing being ambiguous, she took him to be a woman and answered:
— Well, I usually leave this sort of thing to my maid, but what about you, are you a good housewife?
— I like good food, he admitted, but I, too, leave shopping to others.
— Funny you should dress a bit like a man, the Polish girl said after a pause, whom are you trying to deceive, my dear?
Choisy was about to clear the misunderstanding when he thought better of it and, in a brainwave, saw how he could profit by Hilda's mistake.
— I think we can get along fine together, he said, winking.
She took Choisy's arm and walked away with him, far from the crowd.
— We are wasting our time in this town, she told him.
— Yes, deliriously so, he answered.
— Do you really think so? I don't. In fact, if I hadn't noticed you in the salon of the marchioness, I would have left town.
— The marchioness? said Choisy, she is as pleasant as she is beautiful.
— Granted, admitted Hilda in a somewhat suspicious tone, but what are you expecting from her? She has a husband and probably a lover as well, although she would never admit it. And the Venetian woman, anyway She shrugged her shoulders, leaving her sentence in mid air and drawing Choisy closer to herself.
— If I singled you out, she went on, it is because of your biting wit. There is no mistaking that sign. I spotted it at once.
They walked on a few steps in silence, then, in a frankly tender voice, Hilda whispered:
— This is neither the time nor the place for confidences. Do come along to my place. I have rented a very nice flat, you'll see. There you can open your heart to me.
Choisy did not say no to that proposal. It fell in admirably with his plans.
Hilda's flat had none of the luxury that distinguished the palatial abodes of Mrs. de Ransac, the marchioness of Rubo or even Francesca, but it was neatly furnished and comfortable.
As soon as they came in Hilda offered Choisy her lips and he kissed her with as much skill as he could master.
Out of a cupboard she took a tray of fruit and bottle of wine.
— I'm sorry I have nothing else at home, she said. I always dine out at the homes of a Venetian woman or another whose sexual habits are old-fashioned and not at all to my liking.
While Choisy was nibbling an apricot, Hilda unfastened her dress.
— What's your name? she asked.
Choisy's quick mind saved him. He chose a name that belonged to both sexes. Being French, he picked the name Gabriel, which sounds the same as its feminine Gabrielle.
— Gabrielle, she pronounced languidly, that's a pretty name. Talk about a laugh-one of the marchioness's guests paid his compliments to me and gave me a date for the next evening.
— And what happened?
— He must have looked a proper fool waiting for me in vain.
— He'll probably try again at your next meeting in a salon.
— He will be as unsuccessful on the thirteenth time as on the first. Look, dear Gabrielle, wouldn't it be a pity to give this to a man?
And so saying, she showed Choisy her bare breast. She had just taken off her chemise and appeared in a very relishing nudity. Her breasts were full and pointed up in a defying manner. At the bottom of her stomach was a little golden tuft on the background of her rosy skin.
Moved by this vision worthy of an artist, Choisy got up and, holding up to his lips the fruit of one of her treasures, he nibbled at it gently while one of his hands roamed at the bottom of her back.
— Gabrielle, Hilda murmured, I knew you would love me.
— More than you imagined… but the decorum — To hell with the decorum! she exclaimed defiantly. But don't stay like this!
Choisy preferred putting off the revelation of his sex. He pushed her towards a sofa and his expert lips started doing their efficient work on her body which was already trembling with desire. After a short stay on the hills of her bust, his tongue's next trip was to the crater of her navel, where it sojourned a while, then kept an important date down under (no offence to the Aussies!).
And, while Hilda was moaning with pleasure under the active working of Choisy's tongue, he took off his clothes without her noticing it. Then he went on top of her and penetrated her.
Hilda uttered a scream of fright.
— But darling, you — Here, take this! said Choisy, pushing it in still further.
She tried in vain to wriggle out of it but, after a few minutes' struggle, she gave in, and she did so with relish, finally realizing that a good prick was better than the best dildo.
After she had come, she felt halfway between shame and sensual gratitude.
— You're nothing but a vile impostor, she growled, and I had taken you for a pretty girl!
— A girl singularly armed.
— Hide that away from my sight!
She turned her back on him, and Choisy was quick to seize the opportunity. He slid it between her thighs from behind and wham! Fick fick Fraulein, sehr gut. Oh, sorry, that's not Polish.
When a Lesbian gives in to a male she feels as if she were raped, and she never admits she gets any pleasure out of it, although she darn well does.
But Hilda was a cut above the ordinary Lesbian. She was charmed to see that she actually succeeded in pleasing a male and she looked at Choisy with spiteful eyes for the lovely surprise he had sprung on her.
For every woman surprise remains an element of seduction which makes her pleasure greater (as the duchess said when the duke went into the wrong hole).
Hilda, lying on the sofa with her senses satisfied yet still aglow, saw signs of weariness in her seducer's face. She understood that he had given himself to her unstintingly and that, to do it again, it would take some doing (oh, dear, what a to-do!).
Smiling, she gently took hold of Choisy's virility which was now soft. And yet, a few moments earlier, it was thanks to that little piece of flesh that she owed the most pleasurable experience of her sexual life. Caressing in her fingers Choisy's thingummy, she reflected that she was holding in her hand the key to a paradise that was superior to that given by the hottest of the female friends she had had.
And she felt more than ever convinced of it when, a while later, Choisy's desire began to grow again and reached, to her eyes, gigantic proportions. She gave a shudder of anticipating pleasure and Choisy saw the spark in her eyes, and knew that it was his cue.
So in he went again and, brother, did he make her come! She would really have something to tell her grandchildren about-and talk about a bedtime story! Enough to keep you awake. Enough indeed to make the baby jump out of his cradle uttering wolf howls and rape his nanny. As the billy-goat said to the manny-goat: “How now brown ewe, how I love your hue.”
But enough persiflage and badinage and let's come back to the serious thing in hand. Did I say “in hand?” Brother, that was half an hour ago. Now it's “in” something else, something soft and something wet and something juicy, which made the something in question all sticky.
A sticky end? ha ha!
Tut tut! Enough of your jokes, sir!
Where were we? Oh, yes, on Hilda's sofa, and Choisy was doing things to her. Pleasurable things, it goes without saying (why the heck did I say it, then?).
And Hilda conceived a diabolic idea. She was now growing attached to this her first male, and, in order to attach him to her she decided there and then to be coquettish with him, that is, to pretend not to like him in order to make him pursue her all the more.
What a cockeyed tactic to adopt with a guy like Choisy. I ask you. It takes a perverted dame to get such naive ideas.
— Dear, dear, dear! (as the three stags said).