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LILIAN TO JACKY.

Sonis-sur-Marne. September 26, 1898.

My own dear Master,

Of course I shall be delighted to be introduced to your friends on Wednesday. The only drawback is the finding of an excuse. As you can very well imagine, I cannot go and lunch out without a plausible pretext. And I can only see this way. Write me a letter supposed to come from that famous Madame Muller, rue Lafayette. Although she does not pay her debts, she is our mutual friend, as thanks to her we passed two delicious afternoons.

You must sign Helena Muller, for such is the name of that amiable lady. This is about what you ought to write. She has returned to Paris, and according to her promise, she wishes to give me something off the amount she still owes me, and as I have been kind enough to wait patiently so long, she begs me to come and lunch with her on Wednesday, when she has a friend passing the day at her house, who may perhaps become a good customer for me. Arrange all this according to your idea, for I do not know how to twist these little lies about, while you do so beautifully!

Thank you, my cherished little father, but my eye is not better. I hope, however, that it will be cured on Wednesday, for I am truly an ugly duckling with my swollen eyelid. I go to London probably next week, so that I am impatient to see you, as I shall remain absent about a fortnight.

I will do anything you desire Wednesday, as long as I can passionately suck my dolly. It is such a time since I have had that happiness, that I promise myself to exhaust it completely.

A kiss on the end of its pink nose,

LILIAN.

September 28, 1898.

Lilian's slight sty was nearly gone when she came to the place of appointment I had given her, and it did not mar her appearance. I had written a letter in a disguised hand, purporting to come from Madame Helena Muller, and I apprised Lord Fontarcy and Clara, who were now in Paris, of my success in overcoming Lilian's slight scruples.

Clara had had great hopes of being able to get Raoul for an hour or two in London during the next month, as I told her that Lilian would be there with her handsome brother and Charlotte, as the annual commercial round of visits was to be made by the two girls. I had great misgivings on that head, as Lilian seemed to be of such a jealous nature that she would not allow Raoul to form any new female acquaintances if she could help it. He, too, was madly in love with Charlotte and Lilian made out to me that she did not want her brother to know the little tricks she got up to with me. She alluded to Charlotte now, not as Lolotte, but as Charlot. When I enquired the reason of her name being used in a masculine fashion, she made no reply. My salacious, suspicious mind immediately evolved the idea of some Lesbian amusements between the two girls. I knew that Charlotte slept in Lilian's bed when she visited Sonis, when Papa was absent. She had been there just after I had passed the night with my sweetheart. I supposed that Raoul, Lilian, and Charlotte had all played “mothers and fathers” with each other when they were in London, and perhaps Papa had participated, too. This would account for his great hatred towards the lad, now that he was affianced to Charlotte, and Arvel also roundly abused his stepson's betrothed and called her a whore to me, but permitted her to frequent Lilian! Such inconsistencies on the part of a staid man of the world of two years of age require little or no comment on my part. I could plainly see that the more I advanced into the secrets of this strange family, the more vice I discovered. But what cared I as long as I fancied that Lilian loved me?

The partie carrée was to take place in a hotel-restaurant, which is a very useful kind of establishment for lovers and all amorous couples.

In these places, where the business of a hotel is carried on jointly with that of a public restaurant, some of the private dining-rooms are fitted up with capacious beds, and on opening a desk or a mirrored cupboard, there is to be found every convenience for the toilette and a plentiful supply of clean linen. There is always a table laid out for meals, the desired electric light; and the proprietor and waiters evince no surprise if several people order a repast and stop many hours afterwards, leaving the bed and bedding in a state of disorder. Nor do they trouble about their paying guests in any way. A man may occupy the room with one or more women. Or several men with only one woman, and I have no doubt that the same reception would await parties of men together and women without men. In fact, I knew one Parisian gentleman whose peculiar pleasure was to take his mistress to dinner at one of these restaurants, and when the coffee was served, invite the waiter to violate his companion in front of him, while he enjoyed his post-prandial cigar.

I had arranged the meeting in one of the quiet squares near the Trocadero, and after Lilian had arrived and immediately made the conquest of my friends, we trotted to the convenient hostelry, which is situated about three hundred yards from the triumphal arch of the Etoile.

We were soon installed and a good fire was lighted, for the day was cold, but Clara objected to the first room we inspected because there was a bed there. And this English lady positively blushed. She was at present not up to our Continental standard, although kind and charming. So we gave way to her prudery and chose a snug room with a large divan. One reason for her coldness on this occasion was explained by her informing us that her monthly “turn” had begun that very morning. Lord Fontarcy also said that he was worn out as he had been “going it" lately with his mistress. They had been visiting the secret haunts of Parisian pleasure together, and while we ate, they gaily told us some of their adventures. Under the influence of the meal, all barriers of restraint were soon broken down, and the dessert was not on table before I had kissed Lady Clara and Lilian's lips were eagerly glued to those of my old friend.

Then she glanced archly across the table at me and whispered:

“Dirty Papa!”

But she enjoyed the situation. Her eyes glittered, and she passed her tongue over her carmine lips, like a cat in front of a milk jug.

We talked of her brother. She was careful not to destroy Lady Clara's hopes and promised to look up Lord Fontarcy herself during her stay in London and dine with him one evening.

When the coffee and liqueurs were served and the waiter had left us, I rose and bolted the door. Cigars were lit, and Lilian puffed away at a little cigarette, after having in obedience to my orders bitten the end off my Havana. Lord Fontarcy was seated at the head of the table and I faced him. On his left, on the divan, came Lilian, with Clara next to her, and consequently on my right.

Mutual caressing and kissing was the order of the day, but poor little blonde Clara was not at her ease. The experience was new to her. She was, I felt, very loving when alone with a man she liked, but venereal sport in common was seemingly out of her line. It must be remembered, too, that she was bandaged up to a certain extent.

Lilian soon rose from table, although she was now on the best of terms with his lordship, they having been whispering and kissing together, and came to where I was sitting. I drew her on my knee and after she had given me her warm lips, I told my friends what pretty drawers she wore, and boldly pulled up her skirts. All of us had a full view of her dainty knickers and black stockings.

The sight was such a pretty one that Fontarcy was soon forced to draw nearer and he took a chair in front of me and began to place his hands on her knees and thighs.

I explained that as Lilian wore her beautiful drawers in the French style, it was very easy for her to slip them off her stays, to which they were fastened. She did so at once and returned to her seat on my lap. I raised her petticoats again and placed my hand on her hot slit.