Anonymous - Danielle and Uncle Armand

“Yes. He's the one who pays when I need it!”

“Yes, I understand! The lady is being kept! Well, after all, you're right. There are enough 'tricks' around to allow that!”

They weren't moving. Stretched out side by side, the two silent forms had discovered their true selves. Those two bodies owed each other the joy of a wonderful night, of that magnificent spasm that had made them tremble and moan deliciously.

They had had nothing but the thirst of their beings, a thirst that is never quenched, and before the jeers of the unconscious masses, under the hateful eyes of too fertile mothers, the ardent female and the intoxicated male stood in a nudity ready to be welded together to let the excess of their vitality escape.

Soon the hour of separation approached.

“Danielle, we must see each other again! Can I meet you tomorrow? We must pursue our physical ecstasies for I'm certain that we'll be able to give each other every possible pleasure. I promise you that I won't hit you again! Once was enough.”

“I'll see you tomorrow, Patrick,” she said. “I'll be passionate. Anyway,” she added, showing him her cunt bathed in a wonderful liquid, “this belongs to you! Do you want it?”

“Yes, I want it!”

And the man put his lips against the orifice to the garden of delights and breathed a puff of warmth.

During this time, his companion was caressing his cock with an expert hand. But the morning had bathed the windows of the room with its pale light and made them part until their next meeting.

Life was gradually putting its marks on the beautiful girl's body.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The days that followed were not too different for the young woman.

Patrick, “her Patrick,” as she thought of him, had come to her little apartment.

They had possessed each other like the first time, but he had not repeated his act of sadism, seeing the state of passion his partner was in. Then, one foggy night, he disappeared without a word, perhaps having found a more passionate woman.

She was totally discouraged. Thus, after they had filled her with their semen, used her with all their sexual youth, one after another of her lovers disappeared and left her alone with that need to be possessed which penetrated every pore of her skin! Oh, yes. She still had one male left!

And, thinking of him, she had a desire to throw up that made her put her hand on her stomach.

The bastard! The old pig who brought her the residue of his senility, perhaps believing himself unique, was coming soon, because this was his day to caress her woman's flesh with his big, clumsy hands.

She had had enough of this ridiculous game!

She needed a solid man, proud of his cock, to penetrate her deeply while uttering words of love. But that old satyr with his face like a diarrheic rabbit, his silly ears, and his lips opened like a piece of decomposing meat… no! That was too much!

Anyway, she had made her decision! She would get rid of the old man under any pretext.

And as she was thinking this, sitting on the bed, she suddenly heard someone knocking at the door.

“Dear God!” she shouted, looking at herself in the mirror, “there's that pig, Edward!”

“Hello my little pet, how are you? Still in shape? And how are those beautiful little buns?”

As he uttered these little phrases, he put his hand out to touch the fleshy curves which seemed to call him. He heard her answer:

“Mine, bastard! Everything is mine! Don't come to bury your dirty tongue in my sacred places anymore! I've had enough, do you hear, enough!”

The old accountant, already imagining the pleasure this charming body would give him, didn't understand at first.

“But what's wrong with you? A little tired? Yes that's it! Come here and kiss me…”

“Kiss you? You've got a lot of gall! Put my lips on your filthy beak? Oh! That makes me laugh!”

Edward didn't seem to understand any of these words and he was already removing his shirt. He was going to take off the rest of his clothes when she shouted:

“Put your prick away! Don't count on me to make it work any longer! Go back to your old bag again. She'll give you some!”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean that I'm sick of your old body, your wrinkled belly, your rough tongue, of… of… of everything that makes up your… bookkeeping…!”

“My bookkeeping…?”

“Yes! If you know how to count, so do I…! Listen!” she continued, “the money you gave me is really mine, isn't it?”

He sneered:

“Yes, you earned it by the sweat of your thighs…!”

“What's the difference! I'm sick of your opinion and everyone else's! Very well, I've had enough! Yes, I have some money, and let me tell you once and for all: I despise you!”

“But we've spent to many good moments together. Why are you suddenly talking to me like this?”

“Listen, Edward! It's over! I'm through with you! That's clear, isn't it? Understand that and get out! Everything is finished between us and maybe nothing ever started…”

He moved toward-her, his face drawn, his cheeks burning. She looked at him and felt ashamed, if the state of her mind could be called that, ashamed of being the mistress of this human decrepitude.

Now the accountant looked like one of those old, bent, weak little men who have clung to life only through a frightened passion.

“Danielle,” he said in a tremulous voice, “you're not going to abandon me! What will I do without you?”

She burst out laughing cruelly.

“Look at that! Abandonment frightens the gentleman! You bought the pleasure I gave you! You had it! You have to be satisfied! I end the contract between us and send you away!” And she pointed to the door.

He dared to protest! Tears ran down his cheeks. He got on his knees and tried to grab the young woman's dress. His head was shaken with convulsive sobs.

He felt his pleasure escaping him. He was too old to hope for another affair and the money he had put aside during his entire lifetime of working had gone to this slut in such a short time…

“Don't send me away, my little Danielle! Look how unhappy I am! Come kiss me and I'll leave you until you're calmer, then…”

She was exasperated.

“Are you going to get out of here or not?” she cried, pushing him to the door.

He got up, finally realizing that it was over.

He put his shirt on and, without looking at the woman who had stretched out on the bed, he walked down the stairway sighing.

As soon as the old man was gone, Danielle, who was happy with the rapid conclusion which had removed the heavy inert mass that had been tied to her cunt, remembered the pleasures she had felt in the arms of her lovers. Suddenly her apartment seemed empty to her. She felt an uncertain apprehension about her future. Always having to search for a companion, always living in that eternal waiting! But, dear God, for what…?

She got up from the bed, stifled a yawn, and stretched. Then, in her sleepy nudity she walked away from the mirror, but stopped, her eyes wide open, crying an “Oh!” of stupefaction when she saw her body reflected before her.

“That's me,” she said. “Me! That woman who looks so old with the falling breasts and big belly!”

She had an even bigger surprise in store for her when she contemplated her cunt in the mirror. That place which had been caressed by so many fingers, seemed wrinkled, cracked, with the flabby skin that separated the hairs, perhaps trying in a final burst of agony to swallow the voracious mouths that would taste its bitter flavor.

Ten years had passed! Ten long years in which she had taken so much pleasure, in which she had used her body in the most extravagant embraces, and this was the result. She looked at the implacable psyche which seemed to be laughing at her.