The results were electrical. In a second's time
she was converted into a scratching, snarling, clawing little wild cat. It was all I could do to prevent her from doing me some actual physical harm before I got her clamped down in a manner which rendered her helpless.
"Cochon!" she gasped, her face livid with rage, "You've torn my panties!"
"I couldn't get them off any other way, sweetness!"
"Let me up!" she hissed. "What do you want to get up for? Aren't we going to do something first?"
"I've changed my mind! Let me up instantly! I am afraid my husband is coming!"
"But you told me he wasn't coming until Saturday!"
"I have a presentment he's coming to-day! He may be here any minute!"
"Well, if you're afraid he may come, let's hurry up and finish before he gets here!"
Securing her two wrists firmly with one hand, I reached down with the other and pulled away the remanants of the torn panties. So closely had she kept me occupied during the brief struggle that I had not even gotten a glimpse of what the torn garment revealed-but now I glanced downward, and received a surprise.
Her cunt was as devoid of hair as that of a baby. I placed a hand on it, and found that it had been cleanly and neatly shaved within recent hours.
The discovery was interesting for I knew that when Parisian girls keep this particular portion of their anatomy shaved off it means that they are submitting their bodies to a certain caress which hair rather tends to interfere with.
In plain words, somebody is sucking them.
The contact of my hand galvanized her into fresh action and I had all I could do for several minutes to subdue her again. Finally, heaving and panting, half suffocated, she lay still. And a moment later, somewhat to my surprise, the tention of her muscles relaxed, the angry expression disappeared from her face.
"You're hurting my arms," she murmured plaintively.
Cautiously, alert for some new move, I relaxed my grip slightly
She snuggled up to me and at the same time extended her hand downward. Her fingers closed about my cock and clasped it firmly. Still suspicious of this sudden change in tactics, but seduced by the contact of her soft hand, I adjusted myself to a more comfortable position by her side and waited developments. The hand on my cock began to move back and forth, and the manipulation set a series of pleasant little thrills to darting through my body. Instinctively
I hugged her closer. The sensation was so agreeable, that for a moment I forgot her unexpected change in comportment and abandoned myself to the caress. Soon the pleasurable sensations intensified and her hand began to move more swiftly. And, in a flash, I understood what she was up to.
The little fox was attempting to jack me off, hoping to get rid of me in this fashion.
Adroitly, I slipped one of my knees between hers, and then, before she had time to realize what I was doing I had her legs apart and was on top of her, with the head of my cockright against her cunt.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, when she felt it penetrating her, "Wait! Wait! Don't do it to me that way! I'm afraid of getting a baby! Take it out! Take it out! I'll suck it instead!"
The offer was tempting, but remembering her elusiveness, I thought better not to surrender the ground already won. I. gave a shove, and the result of the shove was that I found my cock sheathed in positively the tightest little cunt, not presumably virgin, of its entire career.
"Oh!" she gasped, "My husband will kill you for this!"
Curses, threats, epithets and maledictions poured from her lips in a steady torrent. Indifferent alike to threats and revilements, I
worked my.cock in and out. The tight constriction was delicious, and the obscene epithets with which she continued to shower me, instead of dampening my ardor, seemed to stimulate it. It was a unique experience. When the exquisite sensations reached the maximum of their intensity I stopped moving and let the tension relax. When the equilibrium was restored I began again, pushing my cock in and drawing it out with slow measured movements, calculated to prolong the pleasure as long as possible.
Meanwhile, the flow of curses and revilements continued without interruption. But now I began to note something incongruous. She was lifting her bottom slightly to meet my thrusts! And beween her revilements and the movements of my cock as it slid in and out of the tight, little hole, was a curious synchronism-a rhythmic relation. It brought to my mind the recollection of a funny story I had once heard, about a little boy caught in the act of masturbating himself by a maid servant who reprimanded him with a lugubrious warning to the effect that he would die if he did that. To which the boy, too far along with the business in hand to stop, replied:
"I don't care if I . . .do . . . die ….. do . . . die … do . . . die . . . do-die do-die do-die-do-die!"
While my cock was going in, she held her breath. And while it was coming out she gasped some epithet. But at the same time her bottom was coming up to meet each thrust.
I smiled down ino her face. She looked me angrily in the eye for a moment, and then suddenly her expression changed. She lay still for a few minutes and then, with a tremulous little "O-o-o-h!" began to raise and lower her hips with greater energy. I increased the rapidity of my own movements and at the same time released her hands which, until now, I had pinned down tightly with my own. Her arms came up and folded about my neck.
I had conquered the little vixen.
A moment later, heralded by several passionate exclamations orgasm overtook her, and as I perceived it, I let go also.
When the final tremors of our mutual orgastic exhaltation had died away, she sank limply back on the bed, one white forearm doubled across her face. The little red lips which but a short time before werei hurling maledictions at me, were quiet now. In silence, I slowly desengaged myself and rising from the bed, began to put on my clothing. I was almost dressed before she stirred, then sitting up suddenly, she glanced downward, to where some starchy fluid was trickling slowly down, between her thighs onto the white linen of the bed. She sprang to her
feet exclaiming:
"Oh! Yiou're probably gotten me with a baby!"
Precipitately, she rushed into the bath room from whence the sound of splashing water spoke eloquently of her precautions to avoid unwanted progeny.
I had completed my dressing when she came back into the room with a towel stuck between her legs. The spectacle she presented as she stood there eyeing me in a puzzled, undecided way, her cheeks flushed and her short black curls in disorder about her face was extremely enticing and for a moment I almost regretted having put on my clothes. Suddenly, however, I noticed tears glistening on her eye lashes. A wave of compassion swept over me, and my complacency at having bested her changed to pity. She had tried to trick me and had failed. But she was a woman. More than that-a young and beautiful one, naked and crying. What combination imaginable could be more effective to move a masculine heart?
I had intended to leave quickly for I had been in the place longer than I expected and knew my detective friend would be uneasy, not knowing just what might have transpired. But I was stirred by her melancholy demeanor. I had outwitted her, and could afford to be generous. Seating myself in a chair I said in kindly tones:
"Come here, little one. I want to talk to you a minute before I go."
Hesitatingly she approached the chair in which I was sitting. I put an arm about her naked waist and taking one of her hands in mine, said:
"You're far too sweet a little girl to be mixed up in such games as this. The police know all about it and they're just waiting to surprise you. Get out of it, honey, before they have a chance. Tell your husband to find some way to make a living without exposing you to such danger."