Pierre Tour - Up in Heaven

“I thought I saw again in her voice and facial expression, a hint of that roguishness which I thought I'd already found, on more than one occasion, when she wasn't engaged in making pathetic requests to me. For instance, Marcia, when she'd fallen on her knees by the table and played the part of an ecstatic worshipper. I neglected to tell you that: just before she lay on the sofa, she knelt down and kissed my shoes, cupping her breasts and bowing her head, saying, 'I'm yours, you know that-have no fear-take me, master me.'

“She took out the comb, brush, and eau de cologne. Then rather shyly she said, 'Couldn't you, while I'm doing what I'm doing, call me some bad names?' I told her that I hadn't the least desire to call her bad names-and what for instance? 'Something like filthy bitch, repeated several times, and other worse words only too vile to repeat which would have some bearing on what I soon shall be doing.' I began to make my toilette.

“She crouched naked at my feet and began to lick my toes and between them and up till she reached my penis, which she cleansed, mouthing and nibbling, passing her voluptuous tongue to and fro along it, and my balls. A few minutes later, I proceeded very slowly I must admit, to put the finishing touches to my hair. No words of the kind she wished had passed my lips, nor indeed did they at all. When I finished and dressed, I took my leave of her. She bade me au revoir. She hoped it would be that-and we were on a level of good friends.”

“Well-what a remarkable woman. And did you ever see her again?”

“No-and yet yes, in a way.”

Marcia's eyes opened, smilingly fixed on his handsome face. Bending down to her, his hands caressed lightly and slowly the rich ripe curves of her ivory bosom.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, it was about two years later that I had occasion to go to Berlin on another trip. I had her card and rang her up. There was no answer. I tried an hour later, and this time I heard a woman's voice, but not hers-for hers was quite distinct and I hadn't forgotten it-reply, 'Yes, and who is it?' 'A friend of the Baroness. I happen to be passing through Berlin and wish to speak to her.'

“'She's not in Berlin.'

“'Will she be back soon?'

“'No, she is away for sometime.'

“'That is terribly disappointing.' My voice, Marcia, must have sounded sincere, for she went on with a greater show of interest:

“'Are you a friend of hers?'

“'Yes. I paid a call on her about two years ago. I have just come from Paris and should so much have liked to see her again.'

“'You aren't Herr Phillips, by any chance?'

“'Indeed I am, do you know me?'

“'I was with my aunt at your lecture. I don't suppose you noticed me. Oh, of course, I had a look at you.'”

“Max, I think another affair of yours is coming to light. Am I right?”

“Well, Marcia, I was at loose ends in Berlin, and due for a three-week stay, so my mind began to work subtly and quickly. The niece? Was that the young woman in the background? I hadn't recalled that she was too prepossessing, but she was not repulsive or I'd have recalled. Who knows? Why, she might have been her aunt's pupil. I told her then that I had noticed her, but hadn't been so fortunate as to be introduced to her. I asked if I might come to see her, if she didn't think it would be too bold. She said, 'Certainly. Come, if you would like to.' But that invitation lacked warmth. I said, 'Yes, how about this afternoon about five.' She said, 'Yes, that would be agreeable.' She wasn't too affable, but at least she agreed. So I risked another step forward, Marcia, thus:

“'If you are doing nothing this evening, and if you won't think it too indiscreet on my part, I'd like to suggest dinner at a restaurant after we have had our talk. Anywhere you like.'

“'I don't think I can give you an answer now; we'll see about it later,' she said, interspersing her remarks with one or two scarcely perceptible giggles, which I took as a good sign. I added hastily, 'That's arranged, then, I'll be with you at five. Would you tell me if it's the same address?' and here I quoted from my card and she assured me it was, and her soft voice seemed much more friendly.

“So, Marcia, I took a cab to the address. A young woman opened the door to me. It was, I saw instantly, the niece-rather tall, fairly slim; one of those platinum blondes whose hair lacks lustre. Her features were delicately molded. Her face was alive rather than pretty. Her eyes were a shade too light, but looked intelligent. She showed me into the living room. Everything seemed the same. I recognized the table, the divan, and the door through which the Baroness had entered. The niece, who was very correctly dressed in an afternoon frock, received me with decorum, as if I were a business man.

“She led me to two armchairs, standing some distance away from the famous table. I took that as a bad sign, but I showed nothing of my mood. We had a self-conscious conversation at first, and I learned that the Baroness had gone to Rotterdam to see relations of her husband. She felt, the niece explained, that political situations in Germany were menacing. She was right, of course-I knew already-and wished to be in a neutral country in case of trouble. She felt her niece could keep the apartment and was paying half the rent. I asked her if she had been living with her aunt before. 'Certainly, I was,' she retorted a bit sharply and seemed to be turning something over in her mind. She bit her lip. Then, 'I was here when you came that day,' gesturing with her chin toward the apartment that lay beyond the doors whence the Baroness had appeared. 'I was pretty angry.'

“'Were you?' I asked intrigued.

“She said, Marcia, 'I had been angry before that. She had not introduced me to you after the lecture. On the way home I complained of her negligence. You see, I had a pretty shrewd idea of what was in her mind. She had promised that, the next afternoon, if you mentioned me to her, she would call me. She swore later you had not so much as mentioned a word about me.'

“I said I had no idea at all that she was living in the apartment. She gave me a mocking look, Marcia, and said, 'You said to yourself, that young woman is an innocent little fool; she's no idea of what has been going on.'

“I put on as well as I could an innocent look, and said, 'So what?'

“She replied, 'I know what happened, of course.'

“'Everything, are you sure?'

“'I think so,' she said with hardly a hint of provocation, and added, 'You see, Mina and I were great friends-she told me about it afterwards.'

“I ventured boldly then, Marcia dear, 'And when she'd done that, did you still complain of being neglected?'

“She shrugged, looked me straight in the face, and said with bravado, 'Mina and I did not have to hide things from each other-or play each other a shabby trick. We were as intimate as women can be.' I told her I regretted my negligence of her. I said, however, that we could make up for lost time, it was not too late, and asked her to come sit on my knee. I asked her name; she came and sat on my knee and, with an assumed air of sulkiness, said 'Erna von Blomberg.'

“'Well then, Erna, my dear, I confess, since I see I can be perfectly frank with you, I made this appointment today with you with the deliberate intention of repairing the wrong I had involuntarily done you.' She then said that she felt that was clear in our phone chat, but I had to admit truthfully that I had not remembered anything at all about her, so it was not very flattering.”

“Well, now, and how did you talk yourself out of that, my clever Lothario?” murmured Marcia, her naked breasts swelling vibrantly.

“I told her, on the contrary, that I did notice her, but since her aunt had not felt like introducing us, I could not guess that she was bored to tears elsewhere in the apartment. And even if I'd known, my interview with her aunt had quickly taken on a-rather confidential nature. She interrupted only to say, 'I know about that.'