Zane Pella: Fanchon_s Book

"Sort of. But try to think back. Right to that very last minute. Was that the only thought in your mind?"

"Well… uh… " I felt a rush of shame: how right she was! But the thing wasn't easy to talk about and I had to grope for a way to say it aloud. "Funny. You'll probably laugh at me. But I did think of something else; it was almost a hallucination, really. I-I thought of myself as a mouth."

"A mouth?"

"Uh-huh. A sucking mouth."

"Hmm, interesting… "

I waited. She took the ashtray from me and balanced it upon the creamy curve of her belly. It perched there like some barbaric ornament and I only wished that it might have been encrusted with shining jewels. Then, in a languid whisper, "Kiss me now, Fanchon. Show me what a good love-slave you can be."

Ah, how quickly I got between her legs! For this privilege I had gone down on my knees and kissed her hand and licked her feet; now at last she was relenting-and I plunged my lips into the pink-and-gold nest before she came up with some other wild task for me to perform. I sucked her. But slowly, gently, especially so-up above me she was still smoking the cigarette and I had to be careful of the precariously positioned ashtray.

"Ooh, that's good, Fanchon. It's getting me hot.

How about you? Are you getting hot, too?"

"Ummm… " I nodded my head.

"I love your tongue. Do you like doing it to me?"

"Yes… mmmm… "

"Swing around a little so that I can see you. I want to look at your bottom. You have such a nice plump bottom. Yes, that's the way. So nice and plump." Her hand stroked my buttocks. Feathery fingers darted here and there; I squirmed closer, dividing my attention, trying most to concentrate on my mouthful of succulent flesh. She patted me, her palm soft on my skin, the touch light, tantalizing, maddening-but not once did I break the rhythm of my lapping tongue; oh, I was so determined to show my princess what a fine slave I could be. And grateful for the opportunity.

We remained like that. Minutes, hours, years? I had no idea how long it lasted. An eon, perhaps. But there was no doubt about the end: her fingers shot into me suddenly and I erupted, stifling my shriek of ecstasy in the furry warmth of her. After a while my body went flaccid, drained of all but the contented afterglow.

"Stay there," she murmured. "Keep kissing me. I'll tell you when to stop. I haven't finished my cigarette yet. I do like these extra-king-size ones."

Incroyable! All that joy in the time for one cigarette. And it would always be like that, I realized, just as long as I could hold the little darling close to me. A lifetime in every day. A new, ageless Fanchon in a new, wonderful world. Even now, exhausted from my orgasmic upheaval, I was happy to obey; I went on kissing her, sliding my tongue between the swollen lips that seemed to pucker and kiss me back.

"A mouth… " Her voice was faint, pensive. "Yes, I do find that interesting. A sucking mouth. Maybe I'll think up some kind of scene for next time."

The satisfied afterglow faded; I was getting excited again. Next time? I could hardly wait. Energy poured back into me, the suggestive words rejuvenating my tired body. I raised my bottom-the nice plump bottom that she liked so much-and waggled it to gain her notice. For another touch, hopefully. Another caress. But she only went on smoking the extra-length cigarette.

A sucking mouth! How I shuddered afterward: had I actually uttered those coarse words myself?

Foolish question. Rhetorical, obviously, inasmuch as most of my shuddering stemmed from desire rather than dismay. Anyway, it was true, wasn't it? No less true than if the vulgar phrase had sprung into existence on a Freudian analyst's couch. A mouth. A sucking. mouth. Maybe I had always felt like that in some sequestered segment of my subconscious.

Oh, I could go on rationalizing it usque ad nauseam, but to what avail? I knew it was so. My little princess knew it was so. The hypothesis had already eclipsed its need for verification; a spade by any other name was still a spade; in a rosebush of sensuality, why be chafed by intellectual thorns? Pleasure had come my way, rare, priceless beyond concept-and if this be unreason, let me make the most of it.

Fanchon, you're a sucking mouth.

I was ready. Ready to hear her say the words. And as it turned out, though, there was no need to plead for her favor. I already had it, evidently; she came into my room dressed in robe and slippers, just as eager for me as I was for her, green eyes glittering, red lips smiling, blonde hair loose and flowing down her back ready for bed, my bed.

"Ma'm, I had such a crazy dream last night. I've been dying to tell you about it all day."

"In that case, I'm dying to hear it."

"Well, it got pretty weird. I was in some kind of sex orgy, right in the middle of it, but I couldn't see the people around me, I could only feel their mouths." She giggled breathlessly. "Oooh, what fun! Mouths and mouths and mouths-there must have been a hundred all kissing me."

"Hmm, quite a dream."

"I'll say. And you know something? I thought of you when I woke up. I was almost tempted to come over here and tell you about it right that minute."

"You should have, my dear. Next time, please do. My beautiful princess is always welcome."

"Next time maybe I will. I sure could have used you."

"Used me? Oh… " I knew what she meant, audacious little minx that she was, and yet even the insolence of her bold statement only stimulated me all the more. "Yes. You could have used me. I wish you had."

"Uh-huh. I'll remember that."

"Princess? Would you like to use me now?"

"That's what I came for. Only I don't feel like playing a princess tonight, I guess I'd rather just be myself. A girl named Kristi." In a single sinuous motion she slithered out of her robe and slippers and fell back upon the bed. "And as for you, Fanchon, we both know what you are. A mouth. A hot mouth. Now multiply yourself a hundred times and kiss me."

I knew I wouldn't have to wait like the last time, days and days; the little darling loved me and wanted more of what I could give her. I could tell. She went about her duties as usual, but now there was a provocative spark in her eye when she glanced in my direction, an expression on her beautiful face that would have seemed impudent if it hadn't been so adorable. Once, just once, while she was dusting the furniture in the living room-she put her hand out toward me in that brusquely imperative manner of hers and I thought we were about to embark on another flight of fantasy. But my husband came in just then (I could have killed him!) and she merely shrugged and went on with her chores. Not that he would have noticed. What with political crises occurring with monotonous regularity, poor dear Oliver lived in a world of his own, a world of presidents and prime ministers but nary a princess. At least not my princess. He was scarcely aware of the change in the household.

Game postponed, then-but I knew the delay would be short. Now that Kristi had sampled my painless kiss, the handwriting on the wall was only too legible: I had been tried and found not wanting in the balance. I bathed alone that night, preparing meticulously, powdering and perfuming my body in delicious expectation, wondering how it would begin. Would I have to beg again?

I didn't mind. In its own way, the ritual had been quite exciting-although it did seem a mite grotesque that I should have to kneel and humble myself at the feet of my own servant. Still, what else could I do? Oh, she was so capricious, my darling little princess, and I just didn't dare defy her.

Multiply myself? I couldn't see how. But I didn't have to, of course, I didn't have to see or understand anything but that beautiful naked body and what I could do for it. One mouth, a hundred mouths-what difference did it make? If such was the desire of my darling princess-but no, she wasn't a princess tonight, just a girl named Kristi; I didn't understand that either, but her legs were spread and the fluff of fine spun silk was there in front of my face, so delectably alluring, the color of antique gold, and I parted my lips to partake of it. I knew what she wanted. I knew what I wanted. Like this, yes, to kiss and suck and"Fanchon, no!"