"Looking for your carriage, miss? Shall I find it for you? It's too early, I think. Ours is the only one here at present."
"Oh, no! Thank you very much. It is not here. I felt faint. I want to breathe the fresh air. It is so fine tonight. The heat inside is oppressive."
"Yes, miss-lovely night-all the stars out. Would you like a quiet turn round in our carriage? It would do you good."
I took a rapid survey of the man. He was of the ordinary type-tall, good-looking to a certain extent, and wearing a livery which I did not recognize. It was equally evident he did not know me.
I flashed such a glance at him as I flatter myself Eveline knows how to lance with effect. He caught it in all its intensity.
"It would perhaps be nice. I suffer so-but-well, take me just round the half of the square at a walk. I think it would do my head good."
The footman whistled. A large closed landau and pair came up out of the darkness. He held open the door. I swiftly stepped in. As I half suspected he would, the man followed. He closed the door, giving a quiet direction as he did so to the coachman. The footman sat himself opposite on the edge of the seat with his back to the horses.
"I still feel faint-my head aches badly-the heat of the rooms was dreadful."
My self-imposed companion promptly whipped a fan out of the pocket behind him. He began agitating it gently before my face as I reclined on the comfortable cushions. The horses were going at a walk. The night was moonless. The gas lamps alone threw an uncertain streak of light into the carriage at intervals as we passed them. By their aid I furtively summed up my neighbor. He was evidently much agitated. His whole bearing betrayed an eagerness hardly compatible with his innocent employment. He had bent forward in order to fan me. The better to steady himself, he had rested his left hand on my knee. He pushed one of his sturdy legs between my knees. I felt his calf against mine. I was conscious of the pervading perfume which exhaled from myself in the close atmosphere. He evidently respired it. It seemed to madden him.
"There! You're better now, miss. It'll soon pass off."
I could see that his eyes were intent on my face which had emerged from my hood. He stole fervent glances at my bosom, also particularly on the gloved and delicate hands with the left of which I held my cloak not too tightly closed. The right pressed my lace kerchief to my lips. An irrepressible feeling of the absurdity of the situation possessed me. I had difficulty to restrain my inclination to laugh. He advanced his left hand a little further. He even pressed closer with his fingers. He moved his leg at the same time more boldly between mine.
"Oh! You must not do that. You are shockingly indelicate."
There was only coquetry in my voice; only an invitation in my glance. The man noted both. He grew bolder still. I felt quite as wanton as himself. My position became exceedingly critical.
"I think you have fanned me enough, thank you. It rather makes me cold. Oh! Pray, pray do not put your hand there. How dreadfully wicked you are!"
He closed the fan. It fell between us. In stooping to pick it up, his hand touched my ankle. Instantly I felt it slip up my calf. Just then we crossed the lamplight. I saw his face all flushed, his lips apart, his eyes dilated with strong sensuous craving. There was no stopping him now. I could stand it no longer. I tittered through my kerchief.
"Oh! Don't-pray don't! You must not do that! Indeed you are too bad! You tickle me!"
His hot hand advanced. He touched my knee. His left was under my clothes still. I put down my own in a well-feigned effort to restrain him. He seized it with his. He caressed it softly. He fondled the well- gloved fingers. He stroked the perfumed kid on my wrist and arm. Suddenly he drew my hand towards him. He pressed it down upon his person. He was now fairly aflame with desire. My hand, retained in his strong grasp, detected his condition. Within his garment I felt his limb. It was evidently a fine long one-stiff as buckram and very thick. The contact excited him further. I was just as bad.
"How delicious you are! Don't take your lovely little hand away."
A gentle squeeze was all my response. He took care I should not leave off my digital inspection. It fired my blood. He slightly jerked his loins. I bent my body nearer to his own. I repeated the squeeze even more suggestively. He pressed and rubbed my hand on his person.
"Do you feel so very naughty then? Let me look at it!"
He released his grasp. He quickly unbuttoned his trousers. He pulled up his shirt. A big red-topped member started out. Oh! How long it was, so dreadfully stiff! Curving slightly up, the swollen head already naked and staring me in the face. I put my gloved hand upon it. I took it in my palm. My right covered the protruding knob. I shook it. He could hardly retain his seat. He thrust his eager fingers into the front of my low dress.
"What shall I do with this? What a large one you have!"
I pressed back both my hands. He tried to raise my dress. I stopped him.
"Oh, no! It is impossible-you would rumple my skirt. You must be very gentle. Sit still-oh! Pray do!"
I love to finger a man's limb when it is of such splendid proportions. This man's was exquisitely molded. It stood awaiting my inspection. There was no reserve between us now. Modesty had flown out of the window. We understood each other perfectly.
"But what can we do? Pray do let me put it into you; I won't hurt you. I'll be as gentle as a lamb. I won't tumble your clothes. It won't take a minute. The coachman is 'fly'-no one will know. Let me pass my hand up. Let me feel all you've got."
"Ah! No-no! It won't do! I must go back. What do you think they would say to me if they saw me enter all tumbled and rumpled? Sit still-sit still! Oh, pray do! Is that nice!"
I moved both my hands gently up and down his huge limb. Each stroke covered and then exposed the red gland. He breathed heavily. He ceased his attack. He pushed his loins forward. His thing got harder still.
"Nice? Oh, yes! My God! It's delicious-it's heaven-but I can't stand it! You'll bring it on?"
"Bring it on? Do you mean that I should milk you? Is it so very nice? Like that? And so-like that? Do you like me to play with it?"
"Oh, yes! It's lovely-you'll make me come if you go on! You'll milk me, miss! Oh! Ah! Ugh! Do please stop a little!"
The horses had stopped. The carriage appeared to have drawn up under the trees close to the square railings in a dark place on the near side. I bent my head lower. I examined the man's limb as well as I could by the uncertain light. It was a model of manly health and vigor. I stooped lower still. My wet and eager lips touched the purple tip. How soft it was! How delicious the masculine fragrance. I kissed it repeatedly. A second later it slipped into my mouth. The man seemed to resign himself. He sighed with delight. My tongue thrust itself below the velvet plum-like nut. He pushed the head and shoulders quite into my gullet. I sucked it all I could. My gloved hands tickled and pressed the long shaft. He commenced to wriggle on the edge of the seat. He straightened his legs wide apart. He threw back his head.
"Oh, my God! Stop-no-go on! Go-oh! I'm coming!"
I obeyed-he thrust forward. I received a mouthful. He spent furiously. I held on. I caught it all to the last drop. I was half mad with the erotic pleasure. He groaned aloud in his spasmodic discharge as I drew spendings from him. I wiped my lips with my lace handkerchief. He sat up and rearranged his clothes. We listened; then my companion cautiously opened the carriage door and got out. I heard another voice.