Anonymous - Arabella

So far from entering into an orgy, as might have been thought, we enjoyed a most civilised conversation, which I was to learn as part of the art of good manners before settling down to amourous combats. I listened and learned much, all of our discourses being in English as a politeness to Elaine and myself. There were many cocottes, or really naughty girls, we learned to be seen parading in the Bois de Boulogne and at the races at Longchamps and elsewhere, but these were to be distinguished from ladies, by careful observation, through the slightly more gaudy nature of their attire.

It was not ever so, however, the Comte advised us carefully, for there were a small number of mondaines- the wealthiest and most attractive of the whores-who would spend small fortunes on their attire and jewellery and so only could be distinguished by name or reputation.

“How then shall we be taken?” I asked with some daring, though at a stage when I felt we had come to know each other well enough.

“As you may wish to be,” the Comte replied. “By your delightful attire you will be taken as no other than you are-as true born ladies. By your deportment in the boudoir, however, you may well-I suspect-outdo such as are of more common blood.”

“Then we are complimented, are we not, Elaine?” I laughed though she, being more cautious still in the presence of her Papa, but ventured a smile.

Two hours and much champagne having passed in this pleasant discourse, our guests took leave of us upon a promise to meet at eight for dinner. The lull that then ensued did not last long. I was loathe to stir, as was perhaps Elaine, being seated as we all were in my uncle's suite. It was put then upon Pearl to break the pleasantly somnolent spell, for-seeing the doors to my uncle's bedroom open-she rose and beckoned us.

“Come, my dears, you must show your corsets,” she said.

There could be only one spectator of our charms apart from Pearl, and he-being my uncle-rose to view them.

“Oh, no, for I wish to bathe!” declared Elaine, all of a dither at the prospect. The hour was but five-thirty of the afternoon. The sunlight glowed pleasurably through the windows which, being French, were large and imposing. In a society which normally takes tea at four and dinner much later, it is a pleasant hour, whether in summer or by the early light of a coal fire in a dusk-laden bedroom in winter. I have frequently flirted with a cock-as oftimes a woman's lips as well-at such times, then rose refreshed to enjoy yet others later. Such is my nature. It may not be that of others.

Having already received Phillippe's penis in my bottom, I was stirred for further adventures and had no doubt that the advancing night would be a meritorious one. Perhaps my eyes spoke of this to Pearl, for she smiled and gave me a little nod. Elaine curled herself up in her chair, undecided whether to rise or not.

“We have no drawers on. Will it not be unseemly?” I asked. I could not prevent myself from saying such. I provoked. I had the devil in me. Fully prepared to indulge me, Pearl responded in kind.

“In the best bedrooms in Paris, young ladies do not wear drawers. They make themselves ever ready for what might befall, Arabella. As to your both having no drawers n that will provide an even more piquant pleasure. You wish me to speak more frankly? There are no other gentlemen here save your uncle, by whose grace we are present.”

“Oh! we must not talk like this in front of Papa. You shame me!” burst out my cousin.

At this Pearl compressed her lips. She was clearly not in a mood to be crossed.

“My dear, you have much to learn,” she replied coldly, bringing my uncle's eyes and my own to bear upon her. “You think yourselves perfect little adventuresses, do you not? Well, it has yet to be seen if you are or aren't.”(I knew myself to be included in this remark more as a courtesy to Elaine rather than as a rebuff to myself.) “There will be entertainments tonight, Elaine, in which we will all make free to join. You will be bereft of your drawers then. Why dither now?”

At that, Elaine uttered a little cry, rose up from her chair and was gone. The door slammed. I heard the adjoining one of our own suite open and close. My uncle assumed a mournful visage.

“You put too much upon her, I fear,” he remarked to Pearl who in quite a boisterous manner then got up and opened another bottle of champagne with a very loud explosion as if it helped to give vent to her feelings.

“Nonsense, Harold, she is younger than Arabella here, yet puts airs upon herself when it comes to matters of tingling pleasure. We know we have come here to enjoy ourselves and I for one make no bones about the matter. What say you, Arabella? Come, sit on your uncle's lap and give him a kiss or we shall all be forlorn.”

I laughed and did so. My bottom moulded warmly into his lap. Having kissed quite demurely I accepted a proffered glass, as my uncle did, while Pearl seated herself on the arm of our chair. Reaching one hand down she toyed her fingers lightly about my breasts, so encouraging him to in turn caress my thighs.

“Perhaps you were too hard on her, though,” I murmured, albeit without reproof. The champagne was but a preliminary to our adjourning to the bedroom, as I knew. The thought enervated me. A cock in my bottom frequently now makes me want another in the more conventional manner, and vice versa. My uncle's was not slow in making itself felt under the roundness of my derriere. I wriggled upon it until the crest was nicely settled between my cheeks.

“Do you think so? You know I was not,” Pearl said teasingly. “The Comte has a taste for birching, you know. It would do no harm for Elaine to be warmed-up to the proceedings once we are gathered again.”

“Oh, you would not do that!” I exclaimed, though I must confess that the idea caused me a certain inner merriment.

“Be sure that I will if she displays such awkwardness as she had just exhibited. Harold, you should have seen to her bottom ere this!”

“True!” groaned my uncle with some feeling which was in great part impelled by the subtle movements of my own upon his rod. “My dear wife, though, would have misunderstood the matter.”

“Well, she is not here now,” said Pearl with great practicality and then smiled and said, “Come!”

Bound for pleasure, we made into the boudoir. The large bed lay covered in a grey silk eiderdown. The long velvet curtains were half drawn, veiling all in a pale light. Their tassels hung limp in marked contrast to my uncle's prick which stood as firm as a pole. In a trice he was naked, I in my corset and Pearl similarly attired. Standing upon the thick carpet by the bed, our clothes tumbled carelessly upon it, he embraced us both fervently. We sought to massage his prick together. The carefree atmosphere of the moment was delightful.

Even as he palmed our bottoms, Pearl wriggled and laughed.

“I must pee first,” she declared and drew a gold-rimmed chamberpot from under the bed. Thereupon my uncle drew me upon the cover beside him, murmuring much of my beauty and the charm of my guepiere. I clasped his rigid shaft, we kissed. Together then we looked down at Pearl who had half squatted over the pot so that her bottom and her hairy lovepurse hovered over the receptacle. Her mouth opened, her eyes half closed. A beauteous smile appeared upon her lips.

“He likes to watch. All men do,” she whispered and thereupon released a fierce rain of golden urine that splashed down heavily into the china pot and all but gurgled as it settled, only to be rained upon again as her stream continued. Feeling then my uncle's balls which seemed to swell at the spectacle, I observed the flushed excitement in his face as Pearl's lovelips continued to gush their offering. I frigged him. Our mouths meshed wildly, then we looked again to see Pearl rising.