But my hatred for Claire did not diminish. I hated her even as I sucked her sex. My desire for her was always strong, but now I also wanted Julie. Claire's sister was in the house and always present in my mind. I wanted the complete possession of Julie. The past moments of intimacy between us had become burning memories.
I was also wary of Julie, wary of my desire for her. I told myself I was easily caught by a woman. An affair with Julie might be dangerous. Claire might discover it. I did not like complications. I wanted a simple life. Claire was so unpredictable. She knew everything that went on in the house. She knew all the details of my life. She would sense an affair with her sister. Or else Julie would reveal it. I would have an abominable intrigue in my house. Two French sisters whispering together in secret moments. I would find myself wary of shadows. I remembered the cloying atmosphere of the Fontan house in Paris. I envisioned myself transformed into one of those wretched men who occupy a wing-chair in an empty club, their eyes glassy as they hide their souls behind the pages of a newspaper. There would be twistings and turnings in the house, a tangle of deceptions.
Then at other times I found the idea of an affair with Julie amusing. What a lark to have two sisters. I had to admit my weakness for deceptions, my own deceptions. I did enjoy the games of intrigue. And I found Julie so exciting. The younger sister was so remarkably ripe. Like a fruit to be plucked again now that John was gone. What could be more convenient than her presence here in the house? She was so much more appealing than Claire, more like Odette. I could not forget Odette. I told myself I'd had the mother and one daughter and now I should have the other daughter as well. All the Fontan women. I should taste them all. A dalliance with Julie would be delicious. I passed fevered hours thinking about her. I wanted to hold her breasts, her bottom, the slope of her belly. I wanted her flesh in my hands. I wanted to suck at her fountain. I wanted the feel of her ripe sex beneath my fingers.
Then one day the affair with Julie finally began. Perhaps the accomplishment of it was inevitable.
We found each other alone in the house. We had tea together in the library. We flirted with each other and she seemed quite receptive. At last we kissed.
“Edward, we mustn't.”
“Why not?”
“I don't know. It's not proper.”
“I haven't forgotten you.”
“I don't want to talk about that. I was much too young.”
“Old enough, I think.”
“You took advantage of me.”
“Yes, I think I did. How awful of me.”
I kissed her again. My tongue slipped between her lips as we pressed against each other. The memories of her body flooded my brain. I remembered her mouth on my penis, the ardent sucking. We kissed again and she touched me. She laughed as she pinched my root through my trousers. Now all the pretense of modesty vanished. She was a woman now, a young widow. She unbuttoned my trousers, brought my tool out to fondle it. She held it in her hand, looked down at it with a smile. Then she went to her knees upon the carpet. She looked up at me, smiling, teasing me with her smile. “You've corrupted me, darling. I'm completely corrupted, aren't I? What a lovely thing this is. So arrogant, isn't he?” And the next moment she took my knob between her lips. I felt her tongue rolling over the tip of my root. I looked down at her with great pleasure. My penis in the mouth of Claire's sister. She had such a lovely mouth, the lips full and obviously made for sucking. And lovely white teeth. I spent in her mouth. She took the jetting. She seemed eager for my spending. I watched her throat as she swallowed. What a marvelous thing it is to watch a woman who enjoys using her mouth. My excitement was keen and a shudder of pleasure went through me. She looked up at my face with glistening lips. “Well, it's done, isn't it? I'm sure I'll be sorry for it. You mustn't ever tell Claire. I'll never forgive you if you tell Claire. You must promise me, Edward. Do you promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Look how droopy he is now. Not so arrogant any more. Help me stand, will you? I don't know why I've done it, but I have, haven't I?”
She dabbed at her lips with a handkerchief. She glanced at the mirror to see the flush in her face. Then she turned again and smiled and asked me to call for more tea.
More than a week passed before Julie and I were alone again. In the interim her eyes seemed always amused when they met mine. We had our little secret now. Then finally one day we were together again. Claire was out and Julie and I had at least two hours to ourselves. This time we went directly to her bedroom. She seemed gay as she pulled the drapes closed. She quickly disrobed and I did the same. We lay naked together upon her bed. I fondled her breasts as I kissed her mouth. Then I knelt between her legs to kiss her sex. She laughed as she pulled her knees back to her breasts. Then she moaned as I began sucking her. What a lovely ripe sex she had. Her sounds of pleasure were constant as I licked and sucked and nibbled at her source. A delicious feast, her syrup plentiful, her flesh swollen and hot. I made her spend with my lips and tongue, my mouth pressed against her sex as she trembled and groaned. Then I made her roll over and raise her bottom. She smiled at me over her shoulders and asked if I found her beautiful. I paid homage to her bottom. I rained kisses over the globes. She was soon once again in a frenzy of arousal. She pressed her bottom against my face. “Darling, don't tease me. You're an awful man, you know. A bounder. That's the proper word, isn't it? My sister's husband. We must both be mad. Oh, do it there. I do like it. I like the tickling.”
I tongued her rosette. Her little rose. The puckered ring of her rear portal. She groaned as I slipped my tongue inside. I fluttered my tongue as she moaned. She mumbled something about Claire again. At the moment I had no thought of Claire. The globes of Julie's bottom were so full in my hands. She moaned and shuddered under my kisses.
Then I pulled my face away. I stroked her sex with my fingers and set about to mount her. I first entered her sex, pushing in, beginning the sliding as she remained bent upon the bed. I fondled her breasts as I poked her source. After a dozen strokes, I pulled out and teased her with my fingers again. She turned wild, begged me to continue. Now I was in command of things. I left the bed to find some ointment. When I returned, I anointed her rose-hole. She remained bent, her hips raised, her body trembling as she waited. I tickled her sex again. Then I pushed my knob at her bottom-hole. She groaned. She adored it. She urged me on. Her bottom was so luscious, so round and fully fleshed. So much like Odette's. I fondled her globes as I slowly poked her bottom. After a while I spent and she cried out as she felt the jetting. She cried out and squeezed my root with her bottom-hole. “Edward, you've exhausted me.”
I enjoyed the intensity of my lust. I felt reborn. How amusing to have thought of her mother while I poked her. Now there were no regrets. Julie's presence in the house was a complete delight. I would have a new obsession. That afternoon I thought we might linger, but Julie insisted she had too much fear of Claire's return. She pressed against me, came into my arms and kissed me. I ran my hands over her nether-cheeks, fondled her globes to remind her of our intimacy. “Edward, you're a cad.”
“You called me a bounder.”
“Don't touch me there.”
“I've just poked it.”
“It's not proper.”
Following that afternoon, the affair between Julie and myself continued. Whenever Claire was absent, Julie and I rushed into each other's arms. My sister-in-law became my mistress. We had our whisperings. We had our secret glances in the drawing room. Before long I took her to the flat in Bedford Way. Now we had complete privacy. We would meet there two or three afternoons a week. Either Julie or myself would arrive first, and then a short time later we would be together. We had afternoons of frenzy, afternoons of casual caresses, afternoons of stolen pleasure. I discovered Julie to be a complete hedonist. She enjoyed teasing, but the teasing was different than with Claire. Julie was more a cocotte than Claire. She assumed poses to expose herself. I found her a vibrant mistress, a woman whose passion matched mine. The affair both amused and aroused me. I did enjoy the excitement of deception. The idea of deceiving Claire with her sister was pleasant. I felt as though I'd achieved a great victory. Was Julie also pleased? I found it difficult to tell. She refused to be serious about anything. She seemed to think of nothing but her pleasures, her wardrobe, the hat she would wear to the next performance at the Adelphia. “Edward, you don't understand these things. But of course you don't. And I'm certain Claire thinks the same as I do. Doesn't she? Oh, it's nasty, isn't it? We lie here together on this bed of sin. My sister's husband. I ought to be punished. What punishment would you have for me? Kiss me, darling. Yes, like that. How sweet you are. I've always been fond of you, haven't I? From that first moment when you arrived with Father from Spain.”