'They are old friends, Estelle, and have known each other many years. Once, in fact, before we were married, they were closer friends still, if you see my meaning. But what I wish to say to you now is this'-and he dropped his voice a little. 'Although we have already agreed that there should be an embargo on our amatory exploits for the duration of the Prince's visit, his Highness has discreetly suggested that, were a select group of us to desire to carry on after the ball is over in a little private entertainment of our own, he might even be favourably disposed towards joining us. Would you care to be among our private party?' A voluptuous thrill of excitement coursed through me like burning brandy. 'Of course I would,' I breathed. 'It would be an honour indeed.' 'Good. Then I will no doubt speak to you later.' Just then the waltz came to an end, and I realised it was time for me to dance the mazurka with the Prince. I dashed back inside, and found him waiting for me by the dais. 'Miss Bicklah!' he cried, his arms extended wide in greeting. 'Or may I call you Estelle now? he murmured as we took the floor (I had not the nerve to address him by his Christian name!) The band immediately struck up the tune in triple time, and we were away! Oh! how we danced! The Prince was everything I had dreamed of as a partner, leading me this way and that, holding me with a light but firm grip, until I felt myself to be mere butter in his hands. On and on the tune went, and my happiness knew no bounds. The other guests stood back to admire us as we swept by, and I even heard a smattering of applause as we executed a particularly intricate turn with perfect grace. 'You dance divinely,' I found myself murmuring in his ear, and then momentarily rebuked myself for what might seem excessive familiarity. But he seemed entirely nonplussed, and held me closer, and whispered compliments so delightfully unexpected that my whole heart melted. As I abandoned myself to his arms I could clearly feel his prick pressed firmly against me, in a manner that suggested the gesture was hardly accidental. As we rejoined our friends when the music was finally over, I had already accepted his invitation to join his private party later. The rest of the ball passed in a flurry of delightful anticipation. What kind of entertainment could be in store? I was almost beside myself with expectation, but when the Prince partnered me again for the schottische he gave no further hint. A little after midnight a select group assembled in the Prince's private chambers: the Prince, the Count and Countess, the Thirkettles, Miranda. Welsh, Lizzie, Marcus, Tom Feather and myself. I had not previously visited these rooms before; they were, so Lizzie told me, reserved for the exclusive use of Lord Montmorency's most exalted guests. In luxury and elegance they far outstripped any accommodations I had ever seen before: beneath twinkling chandeliers of pure crystal the walls were hung with the finest paintings, and the floors were draped with exotic rugs of Oriental manufacture. Champagne quickly loosened our tongues and made us forget any inhibitions we may have had concerning our situation. Nevertheless, I was more than a little taken aback when I saw the Prince and the Countess disappear into the royal bedchamber together. 'I see your wife and the Prince seem to enjoy each other's company,' I observed to the Count.
'Of course they do! He's fucked her with my blessing countless times. At the very least, it puts me in good favour with the Palace.'
'Don't you mind, Count? Are you not taking your loyalty to the Crown a little too far.' The Count laughed. 'Not a bit of it!' he exclaimed. 'Why should I mind? A woman like Miriam needs a spot of excitement to keep her in trim. Besides, the Prince knows a thing or two about satisfying a woman. He's probably got his prick in her already-he's not one to mess around-and a fine one it is too, as Miriam never ceases to tell me. Perhaps he will consent to let me watch them fuck one day.' 'Why do you think we're all here?' I asked in all innocence. 'Because the Prince likes his pick of the pretty ladies, my dear. Goodness me! That was quick! Here's Miriam now.' Visibly purring like a contented cat, the Countess emerged from the royal bedchamber and rejoined her husband. The Prince emerged shortly afterwards. 'Ladies and gentlemen!' he called, clapping his hands together. 'As my old friends will know, a visit to Montmorency Castle is never complete without our rounding off the evening with a small, intimate gathering such as this. This year I am delighted to say that we have a novel entertainment. Mr. Tom Feather, whose acquaintance I am delighted to have made during the course of my brief stay at the castle, has some splendid lantern-slides to show us which I am sure we will all enjoy enormously. If you would make yourselves comfortable, Mr. Feather will let us see some choice examples of his art.' The room was dimmed, and the beam of a lantern speared the darkness. An evening of lantern-slides? How unusual, I thought. However, my curiosity soon turned to amazement when the first slide was projected on to the wall. There was the glen by the castle, and there was I, as naked as the day I was born, with my bosom and cunney shamelessly exposed to the camera. The darkness hid my blushes, but I need not have feared for my modesty for it was followed by an image of Lizzie and Miriam licking the Count's cock.
'Capital! Capital!' cried the Prince, who was evidently delighted with what he saw. Miriam, I noticed, was sitting on his lap, with her hand inside his shirt. Next, Tom showed a sequence of pictures showing Marcus and Effie fucking, of which I had seen prints earlier in the day. 'Is that your girl, Woode?' called the Prince. 'She's a fine one, isn't she? She's a goer, all right, I'll wager! Does she enjoy a cock in her pussey?' 'She certainly does, Your Majesty,' replied Marcus, sounding slightly embarrassed. 'Don't bother with that “Your Majesty” business here, old boy! That's just for public consumption. We're all chums here, aren't we, what? My goodness, look at the size of those titties.' I now knew what kind of an evening we were in for. The Count took my hand and placed it on his cock, and I played with it through his trousers as we watched the sequence of slides. When the lights came up at the end, the Prince and the Countess were to be seen kissing passionately, without any inhibition.
This seemed to act as encouragement to the rest of us. Soon the air was filled with soft sighs. Angelica Thirkettle quickly undressed both Marcus and herself and in a trice they were fucking with gusto on the floor in front of us. Lizzie and Angelica's husband were similarly engaged elsewhere, while Miranda Welsh showed her gratitude to Tom by kneeling down in front of him and lustily sucking his sinewy cock in tribute to his talents. Not wanting to be left out, I arose up and divested myself of my ball-gown. Immediately all eyes were drawn to me as I stood there in my black underthings, which had been so lovingly crafted by Madame Theiese that they seemed to accentuate rather than hide my womanly attributes. In a trice the Count and Tom, both naked, were at my side, and I could feel their stiff pricks pressed against me through the black silk and lace of my chemise.
The Prince, too, paused in what he was doing-licking Miriam's cunt, by the look of things-to admire me in a way that I found particularly gratifying. Fixing him with a soft and wanton stare, I slowly divested myself of my finery until I stood there naked but for my black stockings and a wasp-waisted corset of similar hue.
'Here, Estelle!' called Marcus. 'Come and sit on my prick.'
He was laid down on the floor, quite naked, with his member standing up proudly as though in salute to our guest of honour. I squatted over him and made him lick my cunt while I took his prick in my mouth. Then, changing positions, I was just on the verge of impaling myself on his cock when a lewd idea struck me. 'Put it up my bum, Marcus,' I whispered. It was not easy, with Marcus lying flat, but eventually the insertion was achieved. Marcus's great prick filled my rear passage most delightfully but I was still not satisfied. Tom and Miranda were next to us and I took hold of Tom's prick while Miranda leaned over me and licked my titties, her delightful pink-tipped nipples brushing against me as she did so. I found that by stretching slightly I could also frig Mr. Thirkettle at the same time-three pricks at once, but still my appetite for recherchi eroticisms was not satisfied! While Lizzie, Miriam and Angelica amused themselves with the former's splendid ivory-shafted dildo I bade the Count straddle over me and I licked his balls and his prick stem until he was driven almost insane with desire. I could see that the Prince was watching me intently as I took the Count's cock deep into my mouth and sucked hard on its purple tip. 'My God!' cried the Prince, unable to contain his lust any longer. Tearing at his clothes and throwing them heedlessly down about him, I was at last rewarded by the sight of a member of the highest family in the land-nay, even in the world!-as naked as the day he was born. Miriam was certainly right about the royal cock: it was among the biggest I had ever seen, so long and thick that I wondered if I could take it up me even if I did not already have Marcus's splendid prick in my arse!