Anonymous - The Romances Of Blanche La Mare

My friend's best boy was there, waiting for us, a handsome young animal of the hooligan type. Villainy lurked in his eyes, and the low throw back of his simian like brow; but my hostess was undoubtedly devoted to him, or at any rate to the animal part of him. She embraced him at intervals during supper, and the meal was hardly over before they were at it on the sofa, her costly evening dress thrown up anyhow round her breasts, and his ill cut trousers down to his knees. It was an odd contrast; the silken, scented finery of the smart prostitute mingled with the coarse clothes of the maquereau. Her legs were beautifully shaped, the dear, and her stockings of the finest silk gave their pretty curves every chance to be fascinating. His legs were good, too, what I could see of them, and very white it appeared that he was a prize fighter by trade, and had to keep himself in the pink of condition. The hard, tense sinews of his thighs swelled up under the skin, and his bottom seemed altogether composed of muscles. As for that important weapon which seemed to give my friend so intense pleasure, it was really a formidable organ, long, large, and mightily stiff. The first fuck did not take long, but by the time Madame had spent, with a long drawn out sigh of satisfaction, I could feel something wet between my own little lily white thighs.

Then they stripped and my abhorrence of the hooligan face was quite lost in my admiration of the body. He was splendidly made, and they were a beautiful pair; for she, though no longer in her first youth, had lost none of the contour and roundness of a really fine figure. Over and over they rolled on the big couch, first one on top and then the other, exciting each other to madness with every variety of love's tricks, and poor little Blanche grew very excited indeed. How I longed for that splendid prick in me, and I fancy that the young man longed to put it there too, for after the second bout was complete, he came and sat by my me and laid a caressing hand on my leg. I offered not the slightest opposition, but Madame thought otherwise. She drew him away; “No, no, you are only for me tonight, Billy,' she said.

I sighed: “I think you two'll drive me mad.”

Oh, you poor little dear, we must do something for you, and together they undressed me, and laid me on the couch.

But there was no fucking for me-I was allowed to handle that member, feel it against my breasts, but Madame would not let him fuck me. She sucked me off, and so did he, and I rained kisses all over the two while they were fucking, at last sucking his cock while he kissed her pussy. And last of all, Madame sent for the maid to sleep with us. We were given a dildo, and told to make the best of that. It was something, but both the maid and I wanted that prick. Finally we went to the bathroom, conveniently adjacent to the bedroom, and washed out our hot and tired bodies.

We all slept together. Madame's bed was big enough to have accommodated Henry VIII and all his wives, and fell into a deep, utterly fucked, dreamless slumber.

I awoke first, found the boy next to me- we were all stark naked-and passed my hand over his body. His prick stiffened at the touch, and he awoke. He pressed his lips to mine, and despite the over-night orgies and the commonness of the man, his breath was sweet (that's the best of these athletes who don't smoke or drink, for he had had nothing the night before, through all that fucking)-rolled one leg over mine, and I was just preparing for a gorgeous fuck on the sly, when Madame awoke and pulled him from me.

“You must have thought me a selfish little beast,” she said afterwards, “but he's my only extravagance, and I won't let him fuck another woman, whatever else he may do to them in my presence. I really believe lie's absolutely true to me, as a matter of fact I think he has to be. I pay him well, and keep a damned good watch on him, he'd be a fool to lose me, and he knows well enough that if I found him out, his easy living would go.”

Madame made me promise to come and see her again, and insisted on making me a present of such a pretty night dress, as a souvenir d'amour.

Madame Karl was naturally surprised, and not a little hurt, when I turned up in Jermyn Street looking absolutely washed out. I made a clean breast of it, and she ended by laughing and saying that I hadn't done so badly for myself. Madame Karl, it may here be appropriately mentioned, had in her younger days, when an apprentice at a great Parisian atelier, made a good bit of pocket money on her back.

Rehearsals with Restall, proceeded smoothly enough, he liked me, and though his favoritism gained me a jealous look or two, the other girls did not dare to be openly hostile; besides, though I say it myself, I was a jolly, unaffected little kid, with no side, and ready enough to make friends.

I used to go out in the waits, to a scrappy lunch, or tea, with different male members of the company, but took care, acting on the advice of one of the girls with whom I had palled up, not to allow any familiarity on the part of the comedians-besides they weren't nice enough. The evenings I spent with Madame Karl, and we generally went to some theatre; I was anxious to see every play I could. As often as not Mr. Annesley and little Walker Bird were our cavaliers, and one evening I shall never forget.

We had been, the night before, to a most admirable comedy, beautifully acted, but witnessed by a very meagre house. This night we had attended a popular burlesque, and had had the greatest difficulty in getting seats. We had supper in Jermyn Street and after supper Madame Karl said she would like to go to bed, she did not feel very well-but as she did not want to go to sleep, would we, after she was undressed, come and sit with her and chat.

We did. Madame looked as delightful as usual in bed; beautifully made up, exquisitely night-gowned, and under a becomingly shaded light. Annesley sat by her side, one arm around her dainty little waist, and the other apparently dangling by his side-he was on the blind side of the bed, so we could see what exactly was employing those fingers, but Madame was wriggling every now and then.

The talk turned upon plays-Annesley held it a disgrace that what was really good in London should not attract. “As for that trashy burlesque,” he said.

“Rot, oh rot, my dear fellow,” answered little Walker Bird, settling himself comfortably into an armchair. “You may think it trash, though I know you've been at least a dozen times, but the public love it, and the public deserve to be catered to. Take the men in to-night's audience. They had worked hard during the day, and they had dined heavily when their work was over. They didn't want to think, their tummies were much too full. They wanted to laugh easily, and, above all, to see lots of pretty girls, and feel their old jocks stiffen,”-we four always talked very freely — “and you bet your life they did stiffen tonight. Cunt my dear Annesley, cunt, and lots of it, is what the greater part of this blessed nation wants. There's a certain proportion of the stalls who can take the cunt they see on the stage out to supper afterwards and block it, and a much larger proportion who wish they could, but who go home and block their wives or mistresses, instead. So everybody is satisfied, see?”

Mr. Annesley must have got his finger rather farther than usual up Madame, for she wriggled furiously, then suddenly kissed him all over his face before he could reply- and when he did answer, he agreed with Walker.

Conversation lagged; Annesley was occupied surreptitiously (as he thought) frigging Madame Karl, while I was getting hot as hell watching them, and Walker was getting hotter still, watching me. At last he got up and said he must be going. “Don't hurry,” urged Madame Karl. “I must,” answered Walker, but don't let me hurry you, Annesley, old chap.”