Anonymous - The Altar of Venus

feet exclaiming:

"Oh! Yiou're probably gotten me with a baby!"

Precipitately, she rushed into the bath room from whence the sound of splashing water spoke eloquently of her precautions to avoid unwanted progeny.

I had completed my dressing when she came back into the room with a towel stuck between her legs. The spectacle she presented as she stood there eyeing me in a puzzled, undecided way, her cheeks flushed and her short black curls in disorder about her face was extremely enticing and for a moment I almost regretted having put on my clothes. Suddenly, however, I noticed tears glistening on her eye lashes. A wave of compassion swept over me, and my complacency at having bested her changed to pity. She had tried to trick me and had failed. But she was a woman. More than that-a young and beautiful one, naked and crying. What combination imaginable could be more effective to move a masculine heart?

I had intended to leave quickly for I had been in the place longer than I expected and knew my detective friend would be uneasy, not knowing just what might have transpired. But I was stirred by her melancholy demeanor. I had outwitted her, and could afford to be generous. Seating myself in a chair I said in kindly tones:

"Come here, little one. I want to talk to you a minute before I go."

Hesitatingly she approached the chair in which I was sitting. I put an arm about her naked waist and taking one of her hands in mine, said:

"You're far too sweet a little girl to be mixed up in such games as this. The police know all about it and they're just waiting to surprise you. Get out of it, honey, before they have a chance. Tell your husband to find some way to make a living without exposing you to such danger."

"Are you a policeman?" she gasped in a frightened whisper.

"No, honey, I'm not a policeman. But I have a friend who is, and he told me all about it. I knew right from the start."

To my conternation she began to weep in earnest. The tears streaked down her cheeks and fell on my hand. Touched and embarrassed, I drew her down on my lap and tried to console her.

"Now don't cry little one. There's no great harm done. There's still time to fix things up.

"Is my husband in jail?" she asked, tremulously.

"Don't worry about him. He'll be back in the morning. Maybe I can fix it so he'll be back tonight."

"Oh, will you, surely ?"

1 will if I can but if I do, you must promise me you won't let him put you in such a situation as this again. 11

"I promise! I promise!" she exclaimed heart-fully and then as an after thought struck her, she asked timidly:

"Will he know what you . . . what… I mean, we did?"

"Not unless you tell him, honey. He has no way of knowing just what happened. You can tell him you sent me away when he didn't come. Heaven knows," I added, smiling, "you certainly tried hard enough!"

"Oh' you're a good man! I'm sorry I tried to fool you!"-and again she burst into tears. "The others (sob) weren't weren't (sob) like you; they were just (sob) fresh old men!"

"I expected maybe they had it coming to them all right, but they will make trouble for you sooner or later, baby," and as the tears continued to flow, I took my handkerchief and endeavored to dry her cheeks, soothing her with what reassurances I could.

Suddenly she threw her arms about my neck and began to kiss me.

"You're a good man," she repeated, and then, lowering her eyes, she whispered: "If you want me to, I'll do it with you again before you go!

Surprised and pleased, I glanced at my watch. It was getting later and every minute my stay was prolonged would increase my friend's anxiety. He might even, if I failed to appear soon, show up at the apartment. At the same time, the virginal aspect of that nude, shaven little cleft awakened powerful temptations, I placed the palm of my hand over it tentatively. Little electric-like shivers chased themselves up and down my spine at the touch, and my cock stiffened out in anticipation.

"Come on, if you want to. One more won't make any difference now, anyway."

"What do you know about psychic stimulation?" I asked, my thoughts reverting to Irma and her theories.

"Psychic stimulation?" she repeated, wonder-ingly, "What do you mean my psychic stimulation?"

"Oh, nothing much," I replied. "Baby, I'm British but I like France and I like some of the French customs. I have little time left, but if you're really willing, Fd like to do it to you with my tongue."

"All right!" she answered tensly, "Fd rather have it that way. I'm terribly afraid of getting a baby!" and she slipped-off my knees.

Placing herself on the bed she put a pillow under her hips, separated her legs and in less

time than it takes to tell, my face was down between her thighs, and my lips united with another pair of lips, which ran up and down, instead of crosswise. Two soft little hands clasped my cheeks as my tongue penetrated and explored the secret depths. And when its activities were transferee! to the tiny little protuberance in the upper extremity of the naked incision, she writhed and moaned with ecstasy, and the little hands gripped my cheeks convulsively.

"Oh!" she gasped, "you're making me come again !"

The warm flesh against my mouth began to exhude moisture. Her body stiffened out, maintaining its rigidity for a moment and then relaxed.

I got up and with the towel she had cast aside, wiped off my lips.

"Before I go, tell me your name, honey. Your right name, I mean!"

She flushed at the recollection of the false name previously given me, and replied:

"Georgina."

"Georgina," I said, "if your number wasn't already drawn it would be easy to fall for you in a big way." And my words were sincere.

'It looks like I already have fallen for you." she responded pensively.

"Thank you, honey. I'll go now, and see about your husband."

A feeling of sadness, almost of regret, that I would never see her again enveloped me as I walked rapidly down the street.

"Sentimental fool!" I said to myself, endeavoring to shake off the gloomy sentiments which had invaded my thoughts. I had gotten what I went after, but in my heart I knew I was taking something away with me which I had not calculated on, and that the memory of a litle figure, with its disordered curls and wet cheeks against my face, its breasts, firm and white pressed to my heart while I looked down over her shoulder at the softly rounded curve of a naked bottom and the lissom swell of daintily sculptured legs, glistening through the black sheen of her hose, would haunt me throughout the years to come.

Fifteen minutes later I was at a telephone, and when the call was effected, the uneasy voice of my detectice friend inquired:

"What in the world happened? I was about to take a man and go out there. Thought maybe that little witch and stuck a knife in your ribs. She stalled you off, didn't she?"

"No, she didn't stall me off. I'll tell you later."

"Well . . . I'll be . . . did you really …??'

"Yes, yes; I'll tell you all about it when I see you. But that fellow . . . where is he?"

"Detained for investigation."

"Could you get him out to-night, if you wanted to?"

"To-night! Why … I could, I guess, but what's the rush?"

"Get him out, if you want to do me a favor. It's important to me. I've given my word, and I want to make it good. I'll get a cab and be down soon. Try and have him loose by the time I get there."

And I hung up the receiver.

The following week I was back in England.

But instead of going home, I took a room in London and in accordance with previously formulated plans, began looking around for an opportunity to invest what remained of the money grandmother had left me in some manner which would yield me a living.

After investigating many of the solicitations which came to me as the result of a small advertisement in the Daily Mail I finally decided upon revenues promised on the investment, would also provide me with employment at a nominal salary.