With what ardour she goes on, what happiness it is to me to feel my prick in that region filled with voluptuous moisture. From time to time she squeezes her thighs together, as though to extract the juice quicker from my balls.
The movements of her bottom follow each other with great rapidity and my beauty seems to wish me to penetrate into unknown depths. I am about to attain the supreme point of bliss, when she gives a little cry of voluptuous satisfaction, as she spends with me.
I remain a moment longer with my prick in the yoni of the beauty and it seems as though a little hammer is tapping right upon the end of my tool, a kind of palpitation of the flesh in the interior of the charming retreat. Finally, I withdraw and several ladies carry the beauty to a sofa to rest.
Now comes the turn of the smaller of the two ladies. They were obliged to hold her while they were whipping their companion. Seeing that it would take too long to undress her, a young man, slender and distinguee, tied her hands behind her back and dexterously placed her head between his legs.
His prick must have tickled her neck agreeably but nevertheless she did not cease insulting us. In order to get through more quickly he took her skirts and raised them over her back.
The beauty wears drawers which are very wide open. It is an easy matter to whip her without taking them off. He raises her chemise and her arse appears amidst a cloud of laces, not large but round and dimpled, looking like a lovely peach.
Slap! Slap! The young executioner does not think it necessary to use the switch; he merely gives her a whipping with his hand. No use for her to wriggle, she cannot escape a single stroke. Slap! Slap!
"There, Madame, two more than your friend received, because you have been so naughty!"
It is easy to see throughout his performance that the young man does not try to hurt her much and the victim soon begins to understand the farce, not knowing at first whether to laugh or grow angry, but finally she takes it all in good part and laughs heartily.
As a reward for her better behaviour, the company gives her the privilege of choosing the one who is to perform the second operation.
The clear, piercing eyes beneath her mask go slowly round the room, resting an instant on each of the gentlemen. I feel them lingering upon me with some hesitation. They pass on to my neighbour.
Finally the charmer selects a gentleman who is tucked away in a corner near the mantelpiece to be the happy mortal. He is the only one whose thigh finger is not in erection.
Two ladies rush forward to undress the little lady. She allows them to do so with the best grace possible. They strip her completely; she has the form of a child, how charming!
Her little bosoms are scarcely formed and her thighs are slender but round. She is like a charming doll. The gentleman she has selected comes slowly forward and asks what position she prefers.
"Lie down on your back on this sofa," she answers laughingly, "I will get astride of you and do all the work."
At this moment some one tapped me on the shoulder and as I turn, I see that my neighbour is a lady with abundant, curling, golden hair between her legs.
"Monsieur Dormeuil!" she says.
"Yes!" I answer, not suspecting the trap laid for me.
"Ah, I knew it was you!" and then I recognize Clemence. It is too late to retreat.
"Little Sister Clemence, how charming you are in this costume!" I put my hand under her coattail and over her firm, round bottom, slipping it down to her rose garden and allowing my finger to wander in her silky hair.
"Stop, you naughty pirate! I only wished to introduce you to Monsieur Lorille, the Abbe. It is he who is about to offer up a sacrifice to Venus, but poor man, he is dreadfully tired. He gave it to me seven times already tonight and it was so good!"
"Ah, that is the Abbe! Sure enough, he does seem rather worn out," I remarked, "and the little blonde over there seems to be tiring herself out rubbing his cock without great success."
The Abbe seemed to rally, however, and soon he was stiff enough for the little siren to introduce him into the tiny slit that she opens with her fingers. He is now in and leans forward, first to kiss her red lips, then the pink tips of her bosoms. Ah, how well she works! The little woman rises and falls on his mighty organ with the regularity of an amorous machine, rubbing the Abbe's prick delightfully.
Little cries of pleasure escape from time to time, which thrill me with desire from head to foot. At the moment when he is about to spend, she changed her position so as to make it last longer.
I could wait no longer so I put my prick between her two globes and pressed with my fingers her small child-like bosoms.
Those little titties were very firm and her movements led me to think that very shortly I shall flow into her little arse. At any rate, she is about to spend. Oh, there, one… two… her plump bottom rises and descends more quickly, she breathes hard, her hand seizes the Abbe's tool and seems to wish to push it up to the hilt. Then comes a shiver that shakes her whole body. I feel that she spends with me and that the Abbe follows suit.
The little woman is all perspiration, and they hasten to her and wrap her up in a cloak.
I now perceive that the Big Fellow has warmed up little Sister Clemence and from the movements of her bottom, I know she is going to get it for the eighth time. I am astonished to see them come towards me and still more to recognize in the hero of the evening, the Russian Count. I was very much pleased and complimented him upon his success.
"Have you discovered Pauline, Count?" I inquired.
"Certainly. She is the tall brunette who announced the arrival of the two ladies, her friends. There she is, talking with the gentleman who so gracefully performed with the little blonde."
Pauline was superb with her majestic limbs, her beautiful bottom that I had admired so much and her handsome retreat so rosy and adorned with a luxuriant hairy covering.
I could not resist the temptation of going to finger her a little. I come up behind her and press a kiss upon each of the globes of her behind. She turns, but not considering the attack dangerous, continues her conversation with Monsieur Lorille.
Her behind is just at the proper height and the temptation being great, I place my tool in the deep rut very gently while I pass my fingers through the curly hair of her treasure.
There is a little sensitive point between the lips of the 'beauty' and every time I touch it she gives a slight start with her arse, which excites me more and more. Now my finger penetrates between the moist lips and moves about in the interior of her boudoir.
She pays no attention to it at first but little by little her buttocks move slightly, and then the movements become more accentuated as my finger moves quicker. Judging that the propitious moment has arrived, I quickly introduce my lance, but the beauty tries to make me lose my hold. I cling to her bottom and hold it like a vice, and the more she tries to throw me off, the more excited I become.
Finally the Abbe comes to my assistance and holds her hands as she throws up her backside with a movement like a bucking horse.
"Ah, you want it!" she says wildly. "Then take this!" Then comes a punch from her plump behind. But she does not succeed in dismounting me. At last the friction of my pizzle in her shrubbery begins to excite her and with head thrown forward on the Abbe's shoulder, she exclaims:
"Push harder-harder!"
Her hips rise and fall and she would not let me draw out my cocked rod now for anything in the world. Her lascivious movements are now so exciting that I can hardly maintain myself in position. Excited to the highest pitch I give three or four good shoves and drench her with my sperm at the very moment when she spends herself. When she has recovered, I whisper softly in her ear:
"When will you give me another-your friend Dormeuil!"
She answers, half angrily: "I wanted to keep you waiting six months longer. Now the second will be whenever you like."