anonymous - The Memoirs of a Voluptuary

I did not think de Beaupre's eulogies at all far-fetched now that I was brought face to face with their object. The Duchesse de Regnier had a very charming presence altogether, with a pure, clear-tinted face, the paleness of which contrasted well with her dusky hair and eyes; and a figure whose every movement was instinct with grace. I must confess, however, that the serene and innocent expression of her countenance surprised me greatly and as I looked at her calm and lovely features, I could scarcely force myself to believe that my friend's tales about her were correct.

She rose lip as we entered, and, coming forward, kissed Gaston warmly. He then introduced me to her, and I held out my hand; but she disdained such a cold formality, and embraced me with the greatest tenderness, pressing her lips to each of my cheeks in turn, and saying, "I am so charmed to meet one of dear Gaston's English friends, But your name, Pow-Pow-Powerscourt, is it not? It is much too dreadful for me to speak. You must let me call you Charlie, as Gaston does; will you not?"

I stammered out a polite rejoinder, overcome by the extreme kindness of her reception; but she soon made me lose all sense of bashfulness, and we were quickly talking together in the most animated manner. On Cecile learning that I did not speak French with very great ease, she immediately broke off, and thereafter made use only of English, in which language she could express herself with the greatest fluency. She seemed to devote herself a great deal to me, and I was almost afraid that her attentions would arouse de Beaupre's jealousy, but such an idea never appeared to cross his mind.

"By rights, another of my friends should have come over with us," he said; "Jimmy, you know!-I have often told you about him-well, he should have joined us, but at the end he had to stay at home to meet some friends who were coming from abroad. He was very much disappointed, as I promised that I would bring him to see you, Cecile. Anyhow, I've done the next best thing; I've got his portrait with me. There it is!"

He handed it to Cecile. It was an excellent likeness of the young duke, in a neat Eton suit, and Cecile murmured her approval.

"I've got something else, too!" cried de Beaupre. "Jimmy would be in a wax, if he knew; but I don't care! I shall show you. It's another picture-only you can see more of him in this one. It was a snapshot I took once when we were bathing. He forgot all about it, and I never showed it to him after it was developed."

It was a fine print, and showed our chum standing on the grassy bank of a lake or river. He had nothing on, a front view of his figure being most effectively displayed. I had a sort of feeling of suspense, as Cecile took the photograph and examined it carefully. It almost seemed a dreadful thing for Gaston to do, but no shadow of annoyance or embarrassment was to be detected on her face, and when she handed it back, she said, "He must be a very pretty boy; if he is anything like that; but not quite so pretty as Charlie here. You know! I like you English boys very, very much; you are all so fresh and light-hearted, and so, so good-tempered."

I knew not what to say in reply to these compliments, and I must have looked very foolish as I coloured up and faltered forth a few words in protest against such flattery; but she smiled upon me brightly, and assured me that she meant every word she said. I treasured up the episode; however, to recount to Jimmy when next we met; and I could imagine his indignation at having such a delicate portrait of himself handed round for inspection.

After a time, Cecile said, "What do you say to a visit to the theatre this evening? There is a very nice thing at the Opera Comique just now. Shall we go?"

I looked at de Beaupre, referring the matter to him, but he replied, "Certainly! My mother knew where we were going, so it won't matter in the least if we are late."

"Very well! That settles it;" cried Cecile. "The thing now is to get the seats, I am so sorry, Gaston, to bother you, but Marie is busy this afternoon, and Julie is not in, so would you mind going to get the tickets. You can take a fiacre there and back, so you won't be long. Charlie shall stay here and amuse me while you are away."

De Beaupre could not well refuse, and in a few minutes departed on his errand. When he had gone, Cecile reclined on a couch, and bade me draw my chair closer to her.

"I was at a ball last night; and feel so very tired today. You must therefore excuse me for lying down," she said.

Soon her voice grew softer, and her eyes dropped, gradually closing completely. The fan she held fell from her nerveless fingers, and, by her gentle breathing, she appeared to have fallen asleep. In her movements, her dress had been drawn upwards, revealing the lower part of her daintily shaped legs, cased in black silk stockings so thin that the tint of the flesh could be seen plainly through them. How I longed to touch them! I could do so by stretching out my hand, but dare I make the attempt? If only I could be sure that she would not awake, I would go so far. I gazed intently at her face, but to all seeming she had sunk into slumber. I wavered in doubt for a considerable period, but finding she gave no sign of consciousness, I lightly put my fingers on her ankle. Still she made no movement, and, feeling more assured, I moved my hand to her calf. She stirred, and I drew back in affright, but she did not open her eyes, and the only effect of her motion was to pull her skirts farther up, so that I could see now to her knees. My courage soon returned, and I let my hands wander very gently over her stockinged limbs. Their soft touch thrilled me. What would I not have given to have felt free to pursue my investigations further? But my heart was not bold enough to carry me to such a length. There was an invisible barrier which I found it impossible to break through, though every moment I hung on the very verge of doing so. Cecile's sleep was so quiet and peaceful that I left off watching her face. I did not, therefore, see her eyes open; but as my hand hovered about the bend of her leg, it was suddenly caught in hers. My blood froze at being thus discovered, and I trembled in a mortal terror, bending before the expected blow of her anger. But she only laughed lightly, and exclaimed, "Oh, you naughty, naughty boy! What have you been doing while I was asleep?"

I hardly dared to look at her, but when I did so I was overwhelmed by the melting passion she displayed in every feature, and my fright evaporated. Though I hardly formed the conclusion at the time, perhaps a dim idea entered my brain, and I felt sure afterwards, that she had feigned sleep for the express purpose of inducing me to some such act as I had committed, and would probably have kept up the comedy longer, had not my backwardness exhausted her patience. She turned her dark, liquid eyes full on mine, and repeated her question. I could find nothing to reply, and she continued, "I am afraid, Charlie, that you are a more roguish boy than I took you for. Come, now! what would you have done, had I not awakened?"

I could only stare confusedly at her, mastered by the witchery of her smile; but she would not be content with my silence. "Proceed!" she insisted. "Imagine that I am still asleep, and I will forgive you entirely."

My blood grew hot at this invitation, coupled with the way in which she pressed my hand towards her thighs, hinting to me in the most unmistakable manner to continue. Why should I not take advantage of the occasion? I asked myself. All that Blackie had told me of Cecile came into my mind with a rush, and impelled me to make the resolution. Here at last was the opportunity I had been anxiously waiting for: the chance now offered itself to become acquainted at first hand with womanly charms.

I hesitated no longer, but slowly advanced my hand towards Cecile's middle. I found no obstruction in so doing, and suddenly a tremor passed through me as my fingers touched her warm belly and entangled themselves in the long, soft growth of hair thereon. I groped blindly about, in search of further discoveries, at first without success, but then I remembered what de Beaupre had told me of the position of what I sought, and I moved my hand lower down. Next instant, I almost gave a cry, as I encountered the warm slit that formed the entrance to the regions of love, and as my fingers trembled timidly upon the lintel, Cecile pressed her legs together, imprisoning my hand between her burning thighs.