I had ordered her to fasten the famous little pink ribbon on the hair of her mount before she left home, and there I found it. She whispered in my ear, as she pretended to kiss me, to take it off, as she did not want her new friends to know about it. I got rid of it with the dexterity of a professional juggler. I have it still and treasure it exceedingly, as it is about all I have got to remember her by.
I have let the cat out of the bag. Yes, my story will have a sad ending.
Lord Fontarcy was not slow in placing his fingers near mine, but Lilian demurred: a mere formality.
“Sit quiet, and let us have our own way with you! If you resist, I'll kill you, my pretty daughter!”
Undismayed by my threat, she kissed me.
“I love to degrade and humiliate my love,” I exclaimed aloud. “One of these days I mean to have her violated by a woman.”
Now, our four hands wandered all over her buttocks, thighs, and even dared to approach her mossy mount and moist cleft. In fact, she got quite confused at a little game I invented on the spur of the moment. I made her try and guess which of our hands was on a certain part of the body. She was never right, and when I said:
“It is I who am feeling your bottom and not my friend,” she would refuse to believe me and we chopped and changed about so quickly that she gave up trying to find out who held the fort in front, or the secret passage behind. It was no wonder that she could not guess correctly, as our mauling had already began to act upon her senses and her eyes softened, while her head fell upon my shoulder.
I drew back my chair a little and while we were indulging in a long and passionate embrace, Lord Fontarcy dropped on his knees and pushed his head under her petticoats.
What he did, I leave the reader to guess. I could not see him, but I heard the “cluck, cluck,” of his eager working tongue. It must have been a great treat to Lilian, if I may judge by her passionate utterances and the manner in which the whole of her mouth engulfed mine, while she thrust her hot tongue as far down as she could, and plunged and writhed in a paroxysm of passion.
Clara sat by with her lovely blue eyes wide open. This was all new to her.
I brought Lily to her and opened the front of her bodice, showing the Englishwoman the pretty French corset. She explained that she wore a pair of London-made stays, and, unfastening her dress, showed us her high white corsets which crushed and flattened her sweet, plump breasts instead of simply supporting them and throwing them forward as in the Gallic style. I felt her warm bosom and kissed her neck and rosy nipples, making Lilian do the same, while she sucked my sweetheart's baby breasts. But my lady was very cold, and as far as the two women were concerned, my little experiment was a failure.
Lilian now paired off with Fontarcy, and I embraced Clara and talked to her, trying to find out for her amusement some kiss that she might not know. She was an adept at the art of osculation, until I proceeded to show her the ballroom kiss.
This, I explained, was performed in the following manner: the lady is in a low-necked dress, her arms bare. She bends up one arm, and her lover's tongue tries to insert itself in the fold of the forearm at the elbow joint. This is also a promise of minette. Clara was obliged to confess that I had taught her something she did not know.
I now turned to Lilian, and made her undress completely, even to making her take off her shift, and she stood before us with only her shoes and stockings on, and her beautiful black tresses hanging down to her waist. My friends admired her slight, well-built frame, and, taking her arm, I walked her about the room. Then I posed her in various attitudes, and a pretty little statuette she made, too. I next forced her to put her stays on over her naked body, and she turned round and gave us the view of her rounded posteriors. We admired her legs and Clara showed hers. They were splendidly shaped and Lilian praised and envied them. Her own, she said, were too thin. Clara was thus half-undressed, but she was very shy, as she sat in pleasant disorder on the divan, never having left her seat.
“Isn't my Lilian a naughty girl?” I said to my friend.
“Indeed she is,” replied Fontarcy, “she ought to have her bottom slapped.”
“And so she shall!”
I caught hold of her and slapped her face. Then I kissed her, and threw her face downwards on the couch, holding her firmly by her small waist, her bottom being higher than her head.
My lord approached, and boldly rained a storm of blows on both the rounded cheeks, spanking her with both hands at the same time. Lilian never moved; she groaned a little, but I held her tightly and bade her lie still. I now began to strike at her backside with all the strength of my palms and her flesh soon became crimson.
Fontarcy returned to the charge and smacked her vigorously. While he did so, my right hand kept her tightly pinned to the divan, and I slowly inserted my left middle finger in her fundament, until its whole length disappeared entirely within her tight little hole.
Clara was gazing at us with hushed curiosity.
“Look,” said I, “I have got my finger right into her.”
“Where?” asked my lady. “In front?”
“No!” I told her, laughingly. “In the wrong hole!”
We now let Lilian get up and she sat down and took breath.
She did not complain of her smarting bottom, nor of my digital sodomy. I told Clara she was a virgin and Lady Fontarcy was quite astonished.
“Do you mean to tell me that he has never been up you?”
“Never,” said Lilian.
“Why?” asked the simple-minded British lady, turning towards me.
“Because I did not wish to harm her. She will get married one day and her husband will have her maidenhead. Her Mamma has told her that men can easily perceive if their bride is a virgin or not.”
“Nonsense,” chimed in Lord Fontarcy. “Look here, Lilian, don't you believe such a fairy tale. Lots of women get married and their husbands think they have got a maid, although the blushing bride has had many lovers. If the girl clips her thighs together and makes a great fuss, the man can't tell, especially as the wish is father to the thought, and he is full of infatuation, love, and champagne. Of course, I speak of a real disinterested greenhorn who imagines he has got an angel. He is easy to work on. The other kind of bridegroom you need not bother about, as he is making for money or some other unscrupulous motive and therefore does not care if he finds the little bit of skin there or not. So, Lilian, there are only two kinds of husbands on a first night: those who do not know, and those who knowing are indifferent. The lady hides a blood-stained napkin or towel in the bed. In the morning, the new recruit of the universal regiment of cuckolds finds the crimsoned linen, thinks his wife has used it in the small hours, and is perfectly satisfied.”
I was now mad with lust, and taking out my swollen member I forced Lilian to play with it. She made me get up and go a few steps away from Lord and Lady Fontarcy, saying in a whisper:
“Don't let her see it! She will want it! It is mine! She must not see it! She must not have it!”
I threw her on the ground. She rose to her knees, and I stood up before her, my trousers open and my red rod exposed. She quickly hid it in her mouth, throwing her black hair forward to screen my sexual organ and testicles from the gaze of my friends.
This was not fair for the aristocratic couple, as I wanted them to see the operation, so moving away from her mad mouth, I sat on a chair near Clara, and motioning Lilian to kneel down between my legs, I took her head in my hands and made her suck me.
“Go on!” I said roughly to her, and withdrawing for a second, I struck her brutally on the face with my enraged staff, knowing full well how she liked being treated roughly and voluptuously. I was mad with desire. And I lost sight of the spectators as my head fell back, and I enjoyed the burning, moist mouth of my beloved Lilian and the eager, vivid touch of her electric tongue.