Anonymous - The Altar of Venus

"What do you believe, sweetheart?"

"Oh, nothing!"

"Come on now, what is it?"

"Well, I bet a woman can do that better than a man!"

"You little witch! That's a slam on me! Don't

you think I do it well enough? From the racket you make one wouldn't think there was any room for improvement!

"Oh, Gilbert, dearest, I really didn't mean that the way it sounded. It's just heavenly the way you do it. I mean . . . oh, I don't know how to explain just exactly what I do mean!" and there was another burst of hysterical giggles.

"You fibbed to me the other night! she added, a moment later.

"Fibbed to you?"

"Yes; fibbed to me."

"About what, honey?"

"When you said I was the first woman you ever did that to."

Not knowing whether it would be more discreet to deny, or confess my guilt, I hedged with another question.

"What makes you think I fibbed about it, darling?"

"Ha! You know too much for a novice. I realized that, after thinking about it a little. Don't think I'm so silly as to be jealous about what you did before you knew me. I don't blame you. I bet …" she continued, "if I were, a man, I'd do it with every woman I liked!"

"How would you manage that, honey?"

"I'd make them! They're just pretending they don't want to most of the time. Men are so silly!

And you're just like all the rest of them I"

"Well, give me a few pointers, sweetheart! maybe I'll learn!"

"Asking me if you could do it to me that French way! Why didn't you just pull my legs apart and do it without asking me? I was crazy to try it, but I was ashamed to say so! You made me so dam mad! And asking me to let you see me naked-you're big enough to lift my nightgown up and look at me all you want without my helping you, aren't you?"

This discourse was delivered so seriously, and yet with expression so comical on her face that it convulsed me with laughter.

"You may be right, in part, honey," I said, when I had recovered my composure, "but sometimes there are exceptions which might make that a doubtful rule to follow. A man must be sure his attentions are welcome before he goes too far. And no man with any of the instincts of a gentleman wants to force anything on a woman against her wishes."

"Maybe you're right, sweetheart. I'll follow your advice hereafter!"

"You old darling, you've been so good to me I don't beleve I could really get mad at' you if I tried."

"Happy with me, sweetheart?"

"Happier than I ever was before in my life,

even if you do tease me to do naughty things! Oh, Gilbert , . . move it a little, please, I can't, be still a second longer!"

Despite my efforts to oblige her to remain quiet, she began to undulate her hips, franticly, pressing her genitals against me until, I too was caught in the current of passion. Leaning over I clasped my hand tightly over her mouth, while the turbulent waves rocked our bodies.

"What did it feel like, sweetheart?"

She sat up, looked at me for a moment, and then burst into laughter.

'•It felt like somebody turned a hose on inside me! That's just what it felt like! Now is there anything else you want to know … or see … or try?"

The next day I took time to pay a visit to a certain neighborhood not entirely unfamiliar to me by reputation, which visit brought as its result an appointment with a petit little German fraulein, who was presented to me under the name of Freda. She listened attentively to my words, smiled at some of my observations, and summed up her answer in the following concise terms:

"One pound, and one extra for going out."

"We won't quarrel over the price. There'll still be another pound if you manage well."

"I'll manage it all right."

"Very well. Be ready for me to pick you up here at eight o'clock/'

I telephoned to Edyth, and told her I would be a little late that evening, and would eat downtown, suggesting at the same time that she prepare herself for a real nice "special" evening at home.

I haven't forgotten the good advice you gave me!" I added in conclusion, and heard a silvery giggle in response as I hung up.

I reached the apartment about nine o'clock and the blond fraulein was with me. Edyth looked from one to the other of us in surprise as I presented the girl, saying that she was a little friend I wanted Edyth to know. She acknowledged the introduction in a friendly way though she continued to gaze questioningly at the visitor.

Acting on the suggestion conveyed by my telephonic references to a "special" evening, she had addressed herself in coquettish dishabille not dreaming, of course, that I intended to bring anyone with me. It was evident that she was burning with curiosity regarding the German damsel, and her eyes followed me reproachfully for my failure to enlighten her regarding the mysterious visitor.

After a bit of aimless conversation I suggested that she bring in some wine, and she arose and went into the kitchen. As soon as she was out

of the room, I whispered to the fraulein I would speak to her alone a moment, and followed her.

As soon as I entered the room Edyth pressed up to me and said:

"Gilbert! Who is that girl?"

"Why, you expressed a wish last night, honey, to try something and I fixed it for you."

"Gilbert . . . what on earth do you mean?"

"You said you'd like to have another woman french you once. That's what she's here for."

"Gilbert!" she exclaimed, in horrified tones. "I was just talking! I Wouldn't let her do that tome! I'd die of shame!"

"Oh, yes, you will let her, sweetheart. Remember, you gave me some good advice, too. Something about "making" girls do things without asking permission first!"

"I won't let her, Gilbert! I won't even go back in the parlor while she's here!"

"Darling, you're going to let her even if I have to hold you while she does it! You run into the bedroom now, and get ready! Here . . . drink your wine first!"

She was about to voice further protests, but I interrupted:

"I mean it, honey. There's no use arguing!"

She took the glass I was profering her, drank its contents slowly and set it down.

"All right, then, if you're going to start giving

orders! I'll go in the bedroom and wait for her. But don't think you're going to watch! I couldn't, Gilbert! I just couldn't! Yd die of mortification! It will be bad enough, alone with her!"

It assuredly was no part of my plan to be absent while the experiment was in progress however, I promised her that I would stay outside promising myself at the same tims that I would be far from the keyhole.'

"All right! I'll go in the bedroom but don't let her come in for a few minutes," she added, blushing, "until I fix myself up!"

She threw her arms around my neck, clung to me a moment, and murmured:

"I'd rather it was you, though! I was only half in earnest when I said that. I never dreamed you'd take it seriously. But I'll go through with it now!"

"Maybe there'll be some left over for me afterwards!" I said and I ran my hand up under her dress between her legs.

She slipped down the hall, and I heard the bed-jroom door close behind her. I picked up the two remaining glasses, took them to the parlor, gave one to Miss Freda, and drank the other.

"What did she say.?" inquired the girl, who was aware that Edyth had not at first known the purpose of her visit.

"She didn't make as much fuss as I thought she would. She's in the bedroom waiting for you now."

"Are you coming in, too?"

"No, I said, regretfully. "She drew the line on that."

"Too bad!" said the fraulein, with a half sympathetic, half cynical smile.

She arose and I conducted her to the bedroom. She opened the door softly, stepped inside, and closed it behind her. I remained in the hall, listening attentively. At first, I heard nothing but the subdued tones of he lesbian's soft voice, answered in almost indistinguishable monosyllables by Edyth. "You're awfully bashful, aren't you, darling? . . . You don't have to be with me . . . I'm only another woman just like you . . . Oh, what perfectly beautiful bubbies . . .I'll bet your husband is just crazy about them, isn't he? . . . Why, your skin is simply marvelous! … As smooth and white as a baby's! . . . And no hair except where it ought to be … Do you know, in my country when a woman's hair down here is soft and silky instead of crisp, they say it's a sign of aristocratic blood . . . Oh, you sweet little thing! If you were mine, I'd just love you to death!"