Anonymous - Arabella

“Oh, she will come to it soon enough,” said Pearl, adding that we were to the Comte's house after dinner and that Elaine would not be permitted any hesitations there. Even so, I could not leave her in isolation and so excused myself, this being done as politely as if we had been upon any normal social occasion. Such niceties ever please me. Pearl was clearly delighted with my comportment.

Elaine I found huddled up on the bed, as I expected to.

“Oh, what have you been at?” she asked crossly. Evidently she had slept, for her hair was all array and her skirt up. I suspected something of that and, before she could rise, threw myself merrily upon her and reached my hand so far up her thighs until I could feel her quim. There was such a stickiness there that I knew well what she had been about.

“You have enjoyed yourself,” said I.

“But not as much as you, I am sure,” she replied pettishly. Blushing deeply, she pushed my hand away, got off the bed and went to her dressing table. Determined to break her mood, I bent over her from behind and, sliding my arms beneath hers, cupped her breasts.

“What naughty thoughts did you have?” I asked, whereat she had the grace to giggle.

“None-and you have not told me what you were doing. I suppose you were conversing again,” she said sarcastically. I turned her face-moving my free hand all about over and beneath her proud titties-and kissed her. She felt my fervour, my affection. Her lips returned the compliment.

“Yes, it may be called that,” I murmured. I had no cause to blush, nor she. “It was nice to have it in your bottom, was it not?” I asked", my lips continuing to brush her own while her neck was turned about to me.

“No,” she said softly, but I knew the word not to be taken at its face value nor indeed any value. I told her then what I had heard the Madame say to Pearl before we were put over the bars. At that, Elaine's hand clutched mine and held it over her left breast.

“Is that really true?” she asked.

“Of course. Why else do you think it was done? Phillippe's prick was divinely formed to open up our furrows so that the larger ones might follow. It tingled me at first, but it was nice. I am sure you felt the same.”

“Oh, then have you…?”she asked, referring of course to my absence and well imagining, I am sure, that her Papa had breached the same route.

“You have not told me whether you liked it or not,” I countered. At that I raised my head and pressed her face to my breasts while feeling for the little velvet buttons of the front of her dress.

“Yes, all right, I did, though not at first. I wished he had kept it in longer. You had the best of it,” Elaine confessed.

Little by little I had freed her breasts as she spoke. My fingers roamed now over their glossy swollen surfaces. Her nipples, quickly risen, stubbed against my fingertips.

A little awkwardly I drew her up, but she following easily, we moved sideways together back cross the room and fell pellmell upon the bed. Her mouth was moist and hungry. Licking at her nipples while she sighed and let her arms loll above her head, I raised her skirt and dwelt my eyes with pleasure upon her mount. The dark hairs were crisp and well-fluffed up. The lips were oily with the excited thoughts she had apparently sustained. Working my tongue into the whorl of her navel, I caused her to giggle and double up her legs. Upon her doing this, and having her bottom half hanging over the edge of the bed, I dropped to my knees and-holding her without resistance, plunged my pointed tongue back and forth in her pussy.

Elaine squirmed and moaned, but pressed into me, quite mushing me with her pubic hairs.

“Did he fuck you? Tell me, oh tell me,” she quivered.

“Of course-as he will you tonight.”

She hid her face, enjoying my tongue muchly as the sly movements of her bottom showed. Rolling her upon her back and forcing her thighs askew, I plunged my mouth in deeper. She was on the point of coming as I could tell by all the little febrile movements of her body. Her stockinged legs stirred passionately, waving this way and that. The slurping of my tongue sounded.

“Oh, no, I cannot!” she moaned.

Gliding my luring tongue without, I rubbed my chin all around her clitoris, this coming as an inspiration to me and proving most effective, for she bucked the more and let me feel her tricklings.

“You silly, you must, for else you will be birched and your hot bottom put up to them one by one. Many a girl is so treated at the Comte's, I hear.”

“Oh-woh!” Elaine's knees spread themselves over my shoulders, the heels of her shoes digging between my shoulder blades. Her back arched. She came again, this time in a fiercer spurting whose fine rain spattered against my chin. Her legs slumped down either side of me and remained open. Her eyes stared at the ceiling. I was upon her like a tigress. Our stocking tops rubbed together.

“Say yes, for I would not have you birched,” I begged.

“Yes!”

Whether she even heard herself speak, I know not. She kissed divinely. Our quims rubbed together as sensitively as the strings of violins. So wriggling and squirming together we released our juices which mingled in the oiling of our thighs. Quiescent then in the pale mists of fulfilment, we lay panting. Moving half off of her I toyed with her slit. My left leg lay across hers.

The night would soon enough come upon us. I whispered to her of what must come to pass. She hugged me, answering me not, her eyelashes fluttering against my cheek.

The maison of the Comte was luxurious in the extreme, as might have been expected. Gildings, decorations and large mirrors were all about. A huge winding staircase gave promise of what was to follow above. That we were to stay the night was tacitly understood. At dinner the Comte arraigned himself at my side-his companion acting as escort to Elaine while my uncle sat with Pearl. All looked most seemly. Waiters whose quietness would have flattered the Savoy in London went back and forth with an endless array of dishes. The wines were so numerous that I almost lost count of them.

“We will, with your permission ladies, take liqueurs at table,” the Comte announced at the end of our repast. The' suggestion was curious, but in a moment I saw the reason for it. The doors opened and a most divine young maid appeared, bearing glasses and bottles upon a silver tray. These attracted our attention but little however in comparison with her attire which was such as a Greek princess might have worn in olden times.

Her sole garment was a robe of white which, being translucent, allowed one to see the proud orbing of her breasts, the dark circles which surmounted them and-below-where the material wafted out with every step, the brazen triangle of her bush.

Her limbs were slender, her hips finely curving, and the rondeur of her marbled bottom announcing itself boldly beneath the white mist. Being tallish, she carried herself regally, her feet shod in silver slippers whose heels gave perfect rise to her legs. Unblushingly and with her long dark hair moving easily about her shoulders, she served us one by one, my uncle being sufficiently discreet and well-schooled not to appear to take overmuch notice of the pendant breasts which nudged his shoulder as his glass was filled.

The liqueur was Benedictine-one that is ever my favourite. It has a perfect bite to it yet is smooth as velvet and does not clog the throat. Its headiness is insidious but pleasing. One becomes not so much tipsy from it as floating around it.

Expecting as I did, the young beauty then to retire, I was duly astonished to see her place her tray quietly down upon a side table and then with feline grace slink down upon her knees and disappear beneath the table. The purpose of this however soon became clear to me. A faint gasp came from Pearl but then was hushed. Simultaneously my uncle spluttered for a moment into his glass but then was quiet in turn.