Instantly her hand went to his crotch. Her fingers searched for his penis but of course, by now, his prick had softened and shifted its position inside his shorts.
"I understand," she laughed. "But it's not a big thing, is it?"
The pun amused the both of them and they laughed together.
"Very funny," he said.
She hugged him. And this was the really first definite expression of her affection for the youth. She kissed is brow and tried to bring his mouth up to hers but for some reason Steve resisted. He didn't know why he was resisting her, but he was.
"Steve?"
"Yes…?"
"Are you uncomfortable? Should I order Maurice to take us home immediately… so you can… change?"
He shrugged. "It'll probably dry, won't it?" Steve was not accustomed to having an orgasm in his shorts. It had happened only once before. He'd been riding in the back of a school bus when he suddenly saw this young girl sitting on a seat to the left.
There were only a few kids on the bus and the driver was rushing for one reason or another. The girl, young, blonde, a loner as was Steve, was staring out the window as the scenery flashed by. Her skirt had slithered up to expose her naked legs. She had one foot tucked under her buttocks.
As they rode along, Steve was idly jerking off his cock through his pants. It was growing stronger each time he jerked it and when suddenly the young blonde girl shifted her position on the seat, her foot moved.
This served to expose the curve of her buttocks. And to Steve's utter astonishment, they were bare. The girl wasn't wearing any panties. He eyes widened and his heart began thundering.
Then she changed her position altogether and pulled her foot out. Her entire bare bottom came into view, the ass crease, even her asshole, but most of all, he had a sudden sharp view of her little girl cunt, sweet blonde hairs covering the sensitive cunt lips. Before she was seated properly, he also caught a brief glimpse of the pinkness of her small virginal lips.
It was at this point his prick blasted!
Melissa touched his lap. "Yes," she said lightly, "but if you are uncomfortable, it's no trouble. Besides, you might be a little hungry, no?" She tried to kiss him again at this point and this time he let her lips brush over his.
"No, just thirsty. But not all that much… Melissa." She kissed him again, just a soft, gentle peck, on his nose and when she pulled back, he let out a long sigh.
"Steve…?"
"Yes?"
"Was it a… was it a good one?"
"What?" He knew very well what she meant. But he felt a flush of hot red embarrassment. He'd never discussed anything sexual with anyone. He felt the old familiar trembling, the shuddering, the anxiousness begin to steal and creep all over his frame. Then he began to smell his own sweat.
"You know… "
He shivered, looked away. She was holding his knee. He loved the feel of her fingers. They were strong, firm, insistent as they caressed.
Finally he had the courage to face her.
"Yes."
"Really a good one? Hot?"
He had to smile. "Yeah, hot. They're all hot, but some are hotter." This made him go into a giggling fit which soon had both of them in another mood altogether.
"Could I see?"
"What!?"
"Steve, I asked you if I could see."
"You mean… you mean…?"
"Yes…"
"You mean, right here? Here in the car? Here in the back of the car? Won't Maurice… won't he…?"
"No, darling," she said and then she caught herself. She'd called him darling. That was how she was beginning to think of him.
Steve sat up and moved away from her slightly. Not far, not into the corner as he felt like doing, but he put some space between them.
"No," he replied, not looking at her directly but looking past her, out the window opposite. "Not here, Melissa. It would be altogether too messy."
"Very well. So we'll go home. I don't want you to catch a cold with wet clothing on."
They both roared with laughter!
So this was part of the beginning. And a very promising one indeed. As Maurice guided the beautiful car around the curves of the Cote d'Azur, passing through the outskirts of Nice where there was an abundance of olive trees, oak and pine, the sea pine, the familiar umbrella pine and the Mediterranean Aleppo pine. Steve saw orange trees, palm trees, especially the Canary palm which is much shorter and has a rough and scaly trunk.
Magnificent eucalyptus trees were all over the broad avenues and stood singly or in groups in many parks and private gardens. Originally from Australia, the eucalyptus flourish and grow to a great height in the south of France where they have become well acclimatized and give off their familiar medicinal aroma.
After Nice came Cap Ferrat, then Juan-les-Pines, the road to Cap d'Antibes, the perfume center at Grasse and finally Cannes, a world famous fashionable resort frequented by millionaires and celebrities, bums and musicians, students and tourists of every description, from every corner of the globe.
At the entrance to the chateau, Maurice parked the limousine. In the rear, Melissa had arranged her clothing properly. She and Steve had checked the front of his pants to see if there was any evidence of his scum. There wasn't. And this made the youth feel much more comfortable.
As Maurice held open the rear right door of the vehicle, Melissa alighted first, Steve following, the chauffer helping both by the arm.
"Thank you, Maurice," said Mrs. Staunton. "We won't be needing you any longer this evening," she smiled. Maurice bowed from the waist and this interested Steve. He'd seen things like this only in movies. It also amused him. But he didn't grin because Maurice was looking directly into his eyes.
"Good evening," said Maurice. Without looking at either Steve or Mrs. Staunton, he climbed behind the wheel and headed the vehicle in the direction of the garage to the rear of the great house.
From an upstairs window Madame Andre, the housekeeper, watched from a window. She was wearing only a dressing gown under which she was nude. As mentioned earlier, Madame Andre was attractive. She had a full ripe body, luscious breasts, a broad backside and firm legs. She was an especially hairy woman. Her triangle was a great bush of thick, wiry black hair. Through this veritable forest of hair her plump meaty cunt lips were not visible, but when she parted her pussy lips to examine herself, her cunt lips were thick, spongy and like a maw. Unlike Melissa's cunt that opened like a flower in bloom, Madame Andre's cunt was long, narrow but when it opened wide to admit her fingers or a prick or Nellie's sweet tongue, it was a genuine tunnel of hot love needing a lot of attention, a lot of fingering and sucking, stroking tonguing and caressing before her clitoris, about the size of an olive pit when fully erect, would respond to the friction.
Her breasts were magnificent, beautifully curved. Her nipples were unusually large, usually stiff and the color of her aureoles was almost black, as black as the hair on her head, in her armpits and between her thighs and those close cropped hairs that crowded her asshole.
Madame Andre had peasant feet, peasant hands and a walk one would associate with a farm girl. She loved to eat. She loved to drink. Cognac was her favorite beverage after champagne and beer. But seldom was she seen drunk. Madame Andre could handle her booze.
As she watched now from the window of her small apartment that fronted on the cobbled courtyard and had its own private bathroom and sitting room, plus the spacious bedroom, she was hungry for George to come to her. Tonight was Georges' night. Last night had been Nellie's.
As the car disappeared, Madame Andre closed the pale lemon colored curtains. Dimming the light, she went to her dressing table. Using an atomizer, she sprayed her body with a new perfume that smelled of jasmine and lily-of-the-valley. She rubbed it into her hair armpits, all over her crotch, and even touched a dab of it into her anus.