Jacky S - Suburban Souls, Book II

She fixed her gaze upon it for a second, and then turned her eyes away and released her hold. A tired expression came over her face; she had spent her fill and wished me to finish quickly, or not at all. How selfish she was! How she loved me!

“How shall I spend?”

“With my hand! Make haste!” And she accelerated her masturbating movements.

“Let me spend on you!” I exclaimed, panting with suppressed desire.

She laughed, but opened her peignoir and pulled up her chemise, exposing herself completely, as she guessed my wish. She gripped my bursting rod fast, and, shaking it violently to and fro, I felt the most torturing pleasure as the floodgates opened, and the seed flew in the air, to my great delight and relief. She held the red knob well over her belly, but her grasp was so convulsive that the liquor escaped with difficulty and in tiny spurts and clots. As she felt the hot drops fall rapidly, one by one, on her hairy mount and stomach, she uttered a little cry of surprise and dismay at the fall of each one:

“Oh! Oh! Oh! What a lot! Will you never be done?”

At last the shower ceased, and she let go my dart. As I recovered my self-possession, I could not help smiling as I noticed that her black bush was covered with little spots of spending, as if snow had fallen. There was some, too, on her smooth belly, and the edges of her dressing-gown were also soiled. It is astonishing how the seminal spurt goes far, and lands in all sorts of holes and corners, when allowed to escape in the open.

She arose with a sigh of relief and asked if she might take off her belt. I released her and gloated over the red marks its pressure had left upon her skin.

And now we sat down and talked awhile, as she lazily turned over the pages of Justine, and explained to me what awful pleasure that infamous book had given her. She loved the disgusting pictures, too, with which this terrible work is adorned. One character amused her greatly. She spoke quite seriously about it and I could see that this was a deep impression. I allude to Dorothée, or Madame d'Estreval, who appears in the third volume, possessing a clitoris three inches long. It was this malformation that had greatly excited the libertine imagination of my sphinx-like mistress.

Having spent, she once more began to worry about me and show signs of jealousy, which increased as I told her that I was obliged to go to London shortly for a few days on a matter of business. Indeed, it was a wild-goose chase after some money that was owed me, and which I saw a chance of getting, if I went myself. At this tale, her temper increased, and I pulled out my little parcel containing the silver purse, which she was artful enough not to have alluded to as yet, although she was no doubt waiting for it.

“Here it is,” I said, “and I had a good mind to throw it in your face and say 'good bye' forever, if you had not sent me that nice letter.”

“It is a very pretty purse,” she said, dreamily, but evading a direct reply.

“What a bad temper you are always in, directly you have spent!” I replied.

“And before, as well!”

“Yes, my darling, you are always out of sorts. You have got a devil's temper, you little whore!”

This was the first time I had ever dared to use such a word to her, or indeed to any woman. To my great surprise, she did not mind. I think she rather liked it; I was coming down to her level, she thought.

“If I am a whore, pray, sir, what are you?”

“A maquereau! Your Papa- maquereau!”

She started and looked at me strangely, as I had never spoken to her like this before, and I wondered at my own boldness, which arose from the flight of my illusions.

In obedience to her request, I explained to her what I meant when I said in my letter that I was preparing something new and terribly perverse for her special delectation. Knowing, or rather guessing, that she would like to renew the little orgy we had enjoyed with Lord Fontarcy; that is to say, allowing her to be with another man in my company, I had been casting about to find that second person, and, to attain my object, had begun to throw out hints to a gentleman in whom I had entire confidence, and whom I saw every day. Lilian was very eager to know who, and I did not tease her long. The man in question was my own brother, who I was trying to seduce for her, without telling him who she really was. This vile scheme delighted Lilian, and excited her greatly. She urged me on in my work to debauch my brother's brain for her, and there is no doubt that the idea of belonging to two brothers acted in a powerfully lascivious way upon her seething, salacious imagination.

Promising to do my best, I took a tender leave of her, and told her I would write, as soon as I knew when I left for certain and where I stopped in London. She allowed me to write openly to her from England, although my letters would bear the British stamps and postmarks, showing a difference to the preceding year, when I was not allowed to correspond direct from Lamalou. And perhaps the parents always knew all along?

My journey to London became inevitable and I thought there was a chance for me to put my hand on a large sum of money. I dropped a line to Lily on February 4, and left the next day.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

Monday, February 6, 1899.

My adored Jacky,

I am not going to do, like you, write without scolding. I must absolutely scold you. You went off to London without warning me of your exact departure, and without asking me if I would like to go with you. I would most certainly have gone if you had asked me, and how happy we should have been and how I could have been “naughty” at my ease without any fear, or afterthought.

You never imagine any combination which would allow us to be together. It seems to me that if I were a man and as much in love as you pretend to be, I should surely have some scheme, and be happy for a few days at least, at any cost. Life is so short that we must be truly in the wrong not to take a little pleasure when we can.

My parents have returned, and it will be no longer easy for me to get out now, otherwise I should have had much pleasure in lunching or dining with you and Lord Fontarcy, if that would please you.

Frankly, this is what I think, as you know well that I cannot love him, since I am silly enough to be madly gone on you. Nevertheless, if it amuses you, you can tell his lordship that I have a great passion for him. He will believe it or not, it will not matter in the least. Above all, no debauchery in London, if you please.

This is what I beg you to bring me from London: a husband, or a

miché sériux,

of sufficiently refined taste to appreciate a good

taille de plume,

3 etc. If you wish to please Mamma, bring her a little tea. I suppose I do right to tell you everything frankly. Need I stand on any ceremony with my dirty Papa? I am no longer your slave, I am your mistress, and I shall punish you on your return as you deserve. I desire a letter of you from London. You can write in perfect safety.

Au revoir,

beloved Jacky, my dear love, my sweet little husband. My mouth is better, but Pussy frets after her little dolly. Good luck, sweetheart, and come back soon. Thanks for the quinine.