Ric Arnold - Cinderella of Love

It was so simple.

«Well Myriam where are we going?»

She gave the great perfumer's address. And Jerome started with the feeling that once chance was on his side.

Jerome Lazart was exceedingly good looking (and he took advantage of it you may be sure) but he was above all an adventurer. He was well off, how he had got his money is no concern of ours, he spent his fortune at a quick rate, and his one care was to get his full of pleasure every day… Constantly obsessed with one desire, he couldn't conceive how a woman might possibly resist him. All his moral and physical resources he used in that game as well as his money, hence his numberless successes.

He knew a few things about fucking a lovely woman, and got the loveliest mistresses in tow, yet he loved variety to such an extent that he was utterly unable to stop on the path of volupty. As soon as he caught sight of Myriam he wanted her. The way she walked was extremely alluring.

He hadn't hesitated a second before calling out to her. And now she was so close he was but thinking of the quickest way to get his end in.

Myriam was answering every one of his questions, he soon knew she was living with another girl, that they were along except for the servants and a strange thought was shaping itself in his mind.

«Is your friend as pretty as you are?

«She is very pretty, owned Myriam.

«Certainly less than you are. You're fresh as a bunch of roses. Would you believe me if I said I fell in love at first sight with you.»

Myriam was blushing with sheer delight. She had never known such emotions. How wonderful to listen to that caressing, warm, male voice, to be close to this handsome clear cut face, to those tender full lips. She dared not answer and looked straight in front of her. He went on.

«Do you mind if I tell you what I feel for you. I desire you with the best of my soul and body. It may be too quick, too sudden… but it's so wonderful. You're not cross with me are you.

«Oh No! said Myriam, with so much spontaneousness Jerome felt sure of the game.»

He went on in the same style. He knew the key words to a woman's… heart. His voice was caressing. Myriam was elated with his charm.

As soon as she had done with her errand he took a short cut to the Bois. Myriam protested, but he was so persuasive she accepted to play truant. As soon as they got into a secluded sunny underwood he took her in his arms, bent slowly over her lips and gave her a long, passionate kiss.

Had she wanted she wouldn't have been able to resist so imperious and caressing was he. He had tumbled her back on the seat, and sliding a hand round her waist, he fingered one breast slowly, skillfully. She was almost fainting between his arms, and a thrill ran through her frame. When his pleasure. How different from Kozincko's brutish kiss, with his appetite for her flesh and that hard quivering lump against her thighs. How kind and soft her present lover. She could have stayed like this for ages.

Jerome knew perfectly well what he was about. At the first kiss he had understood she was «virgin-ground». He saw he would have to play the grand love scene if he wanted to have her. A virgin was a great incentive and he felt he would warm her up to that point when she could no longer say nay… He found she had a splendid body as he was rambling gingerly, up and down, here and there. Firm throbbing breasts, hard high nipples; his other hand he had first laid on Myriam's knees, then it slid under the skirt, up the nylon stockings, slowly… then be reached the silky skin of the thighs, Myriam tightened her legs, he didn't go further, he simply ventured to send his scout on the surrounding of a tender shy, downy, crack hardly protected it seemed by some lawn and lace, and he was content with tickling a frill absent-mindedly.

More than a powerful embrace, this attentionate (so she thought) restraint won Myriam's heart. As he withdrew his hand, she offered him her lips, with charming spontaneousness.

«Now I must go back, she said. Be good and drive quick.»

«Yes, if you'll promise one thing… You'll see me to night again…»

«To-night, why! it's impossible. We never go out alone at night.»

«And… during the night…?»

«No, I can't it's too dangerous…

«Don't you trust me?

«Yes, but I can't. I'm not alone in the mansion.

«To-morrow morning then? I'll wait for you on the avenue. You'll find a way to escape.

«I'll try…

«I'm sure you'll come and if you don't I'll go and climb over the walls!»

Myriam laughed gaily.

«The servants would kick you out again…!

«Then I'll meet you to morrow?

«Maybe.»

Jerome was content with this, well aware he'd always manage to see her again. He drove her back to the mansion and before parting kissed her once more, tenderly, lovingly.

She was almost sorry to leave him.

When she entered the quiet mansion, Ghislaine was beginning to wonder what had become of her, and Kozincko was there.

Myriam lied: she had taken a taxi and got lost. Ghislaine believed her. But her father was suspicious and quite determined to get Myriam, willy-nilly, before any one had the privilege to nose in first…

Kozincko knew Paris too well to forget Myriam was an easy prey to the prowling appetites of his fellow men.

Nicolas Kozincko had taken them to his own flat Avenue Foch, where they had lunch. The flat would be a good setting to this new adventure. It was on the grand scale and luxuriously furnished. Kozincko was rich and his taste wasn't too bad.

He had shown them round, and Myriam felt terribly anxious as she saw his bed-room with its vast bed, a regular battle field… She remembered her aunt's words… everything but your maidenhead… As a matter of fact, since she had met Jerome, she was ready to refuse Nicolas everything. She compared them both. How could she feel anything for a man who might be her own father. He had made her happy and elegant, true enough, but was it not merely to corner her all the better, to repay himself on her body of all his previous expenses?

Myriam was beginning to guess what depths the word «love» could hide.

After lunch, Ghislaine was to go the hairdresser. Myriam thought she'd go too, but Kozincko didn't agree.

«The chauffeur will take you there my dear he said. Then I'll come with Myriam to fetch you when you've finished. We'll go to Saint Germain for dinner.

Myriam understood she'd have to face him. He was sure to want many things, she trembled at the thought of the approaching fight, and wondered how she would manage him.

As a matter of fact, Ghislaine had understood her father was much attracted of late by Myriam's grace, and she thought it very natural; in her eyes her father was a demigod, and no one could stand up to him. Totally ignorant of what desire meant she believed it logical that Myriam should submit to any of her father's requests… She had seen how intent his eyes rested on Myriam's body since the bath room episode, she inferred that there must be something going on and intended to ask her friend what it was.

As soon as they were alone, Nicolas drew close to the girl.

«Well Myriam, are you happy in Paris?

«Yes indeed, she answered, Ghislaine is so kind to me… and you… and you're so… so good…»

He smiled.

«Yes I'm good, as you have it… I'd love see you very, very happy. And to share that happiness, hum? Do you understand… If you want you can be very kind to me…»

Myriam bowed her head silently.

Nicolas had drawn closer. He was looking at her with new eyes. She was no longer the poor Cinderella he had known at the Chateau Vert. Her lavender blue dress fitted her perfectly well, clinging to her young firm breasts setting off her slim waist Her bare arms smooth and silky, her wrists delicate. She wore high heels and nylons. The caterpillar had turned into the loveliest butterfly which Kozincko was quite determined to add to his collection.