'You wicked girl, Justine. The very idea of it! You've made my pussey go all damp and hot again,' I said, more seriously this time and gazing longingly into Justine's mischievous face.
'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?' she whispered, all amusement gone from her voice. 'If so, I'd love it if you'd play with my nipples for a while before we get dressed again.'
Looking at me with her big, brown eyes she gave me a suggestive little wink then, tossing back her thick, waist-length strawberry-blonde hair, leaned back against the seat of the carriage in a thoroughly abandoned manner.
With a look of serenity on her face she closed her eyes, her pert little breasts rising and falling as she breathed, blush-pink nipples tantalisingly erect. With her cute, retroussie nose and generous, upturned lips she looked for all the world like a contented kitten waiting for its mother to commence preening.
Taking care not to touch her nipples, I softly stroked her adorable tits with the tips of my cool fingers while she squirmed with delight. For a brief moment I almost thought I heard her begin to purr.
Turning my attention to her nipples I began to gently flick them, noticing at the same time the rapid thumping of her heart and the little goose-bumps rising on her sensitive white skin.
'Please suck them, Rosie,' she begged in a small, hesitant voice, a look of gentle pleading in her wide eyes. 'It may seem strange but it's a long time since I've had a girl make love to me. I need to remind myself of what it's like to feel the insistent pressure of soft, feminine lips around my nipples. Don't tease me, Rosie. Do it now!'
I hadn't the heart to keep the poor girl waiting so I moistened my full lips and lowered them to each of her trembling nipples in turn, nibbling the taut rosy flesh and sucking deeply.
Concentrating on the delicious task in hand I became aware of a tiny, stockinged foot, divested of its shoe, insinuating itself under my gown and between my shapely thighs as I knelt on the carriage floor. Obligingly parting my legs and feeling the damp fabric of my brief panties stretch, and the folds of my ever-willing cunt part and begin to throb in expectation, I sucked and lapped at Justine's nipples with an even greater diligence before asking in a low, seductive voice:
'Tell me, darling, do you plan to fuck me with your pretty little toes? I do hope so! No one's ever pleasured me that way before. Here, let me help you.'
With that I reached down, flung my full skirts over my back and pulled down my knickers, thereby displaying my upraised naked bottom to the bug-eyed occupants of a passing cab.
A moment or two later, hearing the muffled screech of brakes and a splintering crash, we guessed that the unfortunate vehicle must have somehow left the road. How strange, I thought to myself, that my lovely bum, for so long the source of endless pleasure for myself and countless others, should be the cause of so much needless damage. Had the poor, deprived driver never seen a pretty girl's bare-cheeked arse before?
Attention drawn back to the growing need between my legs, I took a sharp intake of breath as Justine's wriggling toes in their silky stocking found my erect clitoris, rubbing and massaging in such an expert manner that I felt my orgasm rapidly approaching.
Sucking lustily on Justine's warm, naked tits and wriggling my bare bum in the cool air of the carriage, I felt my wet cunt shudder with a series of tiny contractions as my climax arrived. Justine reached her orgasm at the same time and the carriage was filled with the sweet sound of soft, feminine moans and sighs of satisfaction.
Silently now, I pulled up my damp, lacy panties and straightened my stockings and skirts before planting a lingering kiss on Justine's smiling lips.
'Let's consider that little bout as a kind of rehearsal,' she said after a moment or two, a sexy plan forming in her mind. 'I'm sure my boyfriend, Pierre, and his handsome friend would be only too delighted to watch us enjoying each other's company in such a manner. What do you say, Rosie? Do you think we should lay on a little entertainment for the dear boys?'
'I can think of nothing nicer than a spot of naughty theatricals,' I agreed. 'Especially if we include some of the Candide's fresh cream pastries as props, and even more especially if we invite our audience of two to join in the frolics after a while. It's quite astonishing where on one's body one manages to disperse dollops of cream when one's having fun!'
Giggling wickedly, we discussed our plans for the afternoon's entertainments as our carriage grew ever nearer to our destination.
After what seemed to us to be a lifetime of waiting (so anxious were we for the fun to begin!), our carriage finally entered the outskirts of the town. Peering out of the windows of the vehicle, wide-eyed like two little girls on their first foray into the grown-up world-which we most certainly were not!-we saw tall, gaunt, slab-sided warehouses, a grubby-looking railway siding and numerous mean-looking dwellings with washing hanging outside and smoke curling from the chimneys.
Men, women and children thronged the streets, laughing, arguing and calling out to each other as they went about their daily business. A cheeky-faced young boy on a coster-monger's bicycle which seemed to be several sizes too large for him, caught sight of the two of us in our carriage like a couple of prim china dolls and grinned widely, removed both hands from the handlebars in a lewd gesture, then favoured us with a loud wolf-whistle before continuing on his brazen way.
Justine and I exchanged glances of indignation before breaking into amused smiles and eagerly returning our attention to the hurly-burly world outside our carriage window.
A swarthy, bewhiskered young man operating a barrel organ, on top of which danced a small, chattering monkey dressed in a suit of miniature clothes, stood on a street corner. Leaning back in a lazy, leisurely manner against his music machine, he was slowly inhaling the smoke from his long clay pipe whilst gazing with heavy lids at his companion-an exotic street girl with heavy, garish make-up and big, melon-like breasts which shook and wobbled as she moved.
She was engaged in loud and animated conversation with the man, eyes rolling and expressive painted lips moving nineteen to the dozen when all of a sudden, anecdote at an end, she slapped her thigh and erupted in a gale of sidesplitting laughter.
As we passed the colourful pair the man caught sight of us, winking and gesturing to the young whore, who turned and faced us before raising her gaudy skirts between thumbs and forefingers of both hands and dropping down in an exaggerated, mocking curtsey, facial expression fixed in an attitude of imperious dignity, made all the more ridiculous by her clown-like, painted features.
Favouring her with warm smiles to show we appreciated her little joke and were not in the least offended, the saucy young wench grinned and blew us a theatrical kiss before turning her back to us and, quick as a flash, raising her skirts to above her waist, bending over and wriggling her voluptuous, bare arse at us.
Speechless and red-cheeked with shock and embarrassment we fell back into the gloom of the carriage and pressed our heads against the seat-backs for fear that the cheeky young strumpet would see our discomfiture and exact still further revenge for what I could now see was our over-privileged, patronising manner towards her.
As we rumbled into the more salubrious, central part of town our pinched embarrassment faded and turned into beatific pleasure as we contemplated our plans for the afternoon.
Rounding a corner into one of the main streets, Justine recognised our destination, l'Hotel Candide, about halfway down on the right hand side. Gesturing to Gruber to stop the carriage by rapping smartly on the roof with her knuckles, we both set about the task of straightening our gowns, checking our appearance in the useful little mirror set just above my seat in the padded interior fabric of the vehicle, and prepared to alight.