The interludes in Bedford Way were always intense. We devoted ourselves to physical pleasure. I was constantly afraid Claire would notice the glow in Julie's face. I wondered when the intensity would fade, the affair begin its decline. One ought to expect a decline in things. Julie continued her involvement with Walter Bramsby even during her visits to the flat in Bedford Way. So both Walter Bramsby and Claire were deceived. On occasion I found myself jealous. I was annoyed at the hours Julie passed with Walter. But I controlled my jealousy. I told myself I had to be patient. As long as Julie continued to visit the flat in Bedford Way, I would accept Walter Bramsby. I would allow Walter his moments with Julie.
Julie did talk to me about Walter Bramsby. She told me she thought Walter was a child. She wanted my advice. What ought she to do with Walter? Did I think she ought to marry Bramsby? Did she need a husband? She hinted that if she did marry Walter, she would continue to come to the flat in Bedford Way. But I was not delighted with that prospect. The affair would become much too complicated. Julie talked and talked about Walter Bramsby. She talked about Walter while we lay in each other's arms. One time she talked about Walter while she licked and sucked my root. I watched her voluptuous mouth. I found it amusing. She was such a wanton. So much like her mother. And yet so unlike her sister. I considered the mysteries of inheritance, the passage of things from one generation to the next. Two Fontan sisters were now in London. Had the French conquered England or had the English conquered France? Was I the vanquished or the conqueror? I adored stroking her flesh. What a magnificent bottom she had. And her breasts. She liked to hover over me, her breasts suspended, her nipples teasing my lips. I would tickle her nest while I sucked her breasts. The room filled with her groaning. No more talk of Walter Bramsby as she mounted me, as I held her globes in my hands. Life becomes bearable during a minute or two of a woman rocking upon one's tool. Then the turning, the rolling over upon her belly. “Do my bottom, darling.” She did want it. She liked to proffer it, her hips elevated to show the moons, the deep split between her cheeks, the hairy fig. I wondered if she deliberately behaved this way to put me in a frenzy. And of course she always succeeded. Vanquished or conqueror?
In the meantime I became suspicious that Claire had a steady lover again. I felt it in my bones. I watched her carefully at dinner. I took note of her absences. I found myself intensely curious about the adventures of my wife. I wondered who it could be. After a time my curiosity reached an unbearable intensity and I once more engaged Mr. Cutter.
One needs these people. They provide us with a degree of rectitude. The detective soon reported that my wife made frequent visits to the rooms of a gentleman named Walter Bramsby.
My shock quickly turned to amusement. I was delighted by the irony. It was all so delicious. I questioned Cutter about details. I wanted every detail. He told me of his spying upon Claire. How amusing it was. Now I felt the power I had over them.
Then Cutter informed me that Claire also often visited a house in Bedford Way.
Now I was taken aback. Now I was astounded. I questioned Cutter to make certain he was not mistaken. But of course he was certain of it. He described the street, the house, Claire's entrance and exit. Was I pale as I listened?
Later I made inquiries with the woman who owned the building in Bedford Way. I described Claire to her. Yes, she knew the woman. I was shown the flat next to mine. I trembled as I entered. I studied the wall that separated the two flats and in a moment I found the peep-slit. The house, after all, had once been a notorious bordello. I stood transfixed before the peep-slit. Now I understood that Claire came to Bedford Way to spy upon myself and Julie.
How absurd it was. Claire knew all about my affair with her sister. It was quite astonishing. I was completely stunned by it. If it hadn't been for Mr. Cutter, I would never have known it.
Then I was amused again. It was all so ridiculous. I decided I would play on. I would have my entertainments. I would not reveal to Claire that I knew anything. I would retain the power of my knowledge. No, I would not reveal myself yet. What a lovely tangle it was. I thought of Claire with Walter Bramsby. I could hardly imagine it and I wondered how they managed things. How did they get on? Sometimes I would sit in a trance as I wondered about it. Claire and Walter. Her secret afternoons. Heated interludes in Bramsby's rooms. He was such a dolt. What on earth did she do with him in bed? All her tricks? I pitied Bramsby. He was in the clutches of a Parisian witch. I imagined Claire showing her sex to him, her thighs apart as she pulled at her sex with her fingers to show her clitoris. Did he take her bottom? Claire and I hadn't had connection in weeks and I told myself I had to pay some attention to her attributes. I wanted signs. I wanted her sex swollen in my hand after an hour or two in secret with Walter Bramsby. Then I told myself I was a fool and that to want such a thing was madness. But of course it was all mad and the wanting of a madness was of no consequence.
How amusing it was that Walter Bramsby was actually cuckolding me. I wondered what he thought about that. Did he feel remorse?
When Julie and I were next in the flat in Bedford Way, I listened carefully for noises from the flat adjoining. My excitement was intense as I thought of Claire on the other side of that wall, Claire with her eyes at the peep-slit. Then I did hear something. Yes, there was something, someone in the adjacent flat. Claire was there at the peep-slit. I knew it. I found myself delighted as I played with Julie. I thought of Claire watching us as I fondled Julie's breasts. My caresses were deliberate. I produced a performance for the entertainment of my wife. I chided myself for being so devilish. I teased Julie into a state of extreme lewdness. Yes, let Claire see it. I wanted Claire to watch her sister. I cajoled Julie into fondling herself. She lay upon the bed completely wanton, her thighs apart, her fingers in her nest. She did enjoy exhibiting herself. She opened her sex to show me how wet she was. Did Claire see it also? I brought out the leather godemiche I always kept in the flat. Julie was delighted with it and immediately pushed it inside her grotto. She moaned as the dildo penetrated her sex. She lay there in a state of complete frenzy. “Oh Edward, it's lovely. What a monster it is! So big. Really, Edward, you ought to be jealous. Are you jealous, darling? Yes, you are. You do like watching me, don't you? I want you in my bottom afterward. We'll have such a lovely poke, won't we, darling?” I coaxed her. She groaned. She continued pushing and pulling at the leather instrument in her grotto. I was happy at her wanton behavior. I told her to go on with it. The idea that Claire was watching it was immensely exciting. I tried to imagine what Claire was feeling as she watched it. Was Claire shocked at Julie's behavior in Bedford Way?