“This idea, Marcia, must evidently have been a dream of long standing with her, often imagined but never realized; she wanted to squeeze out the last possible drop of pleasure, for after exchanging some lovely stinging kisses, which at once told me she had a fertile temperament and was intensely ardent, she murmured, 'We shall have to go and get the things from the kitchen-the food and plates, the drinks from the refrigerator, but we can go as we are-and maybe exchange caresses and nice kisses on the way. It'll be all the more fun doing ordinary things in a state of passionate excitement. As a rule-love-making is such a stale, gloomy affair. People so often behave as though they wanted to be through with a tiresome duty. You must make me drink a lot. You'll see that the drunker I am the nicer I am. If you like, I'll sit at the piano and spread my legs very wide so you can caress me while I play some waltz or adagio-if you wish.”
“The naughty little trollop.”
“She was. I assured her I found the proposal enchanting and knew just the sort of excitement she wanted to create. While we waited for the caterer's delivery, I asked her whether she had not, in the Baroness' day, been given an occasional opportunity to hold one of these intimate parties or orgies. She told me 'yes,' and rather scornfully enumerated some of them, saying she did not have a happy memory of them. I asked her, when she was alone with her aunt, how the latter's desire for pain and humiliation showed itself. She said it was odd, but it hardly showed at all. She was always imperious to her niece.
“When at last the food was delivered, Erna paid the man, brought back my change, and then threw herself into my arms. After some ardent kisses we stripped naked, each helping the other. Then we enjoyed the first course, after which Erna showed me by caressing my penis that she wished attention-and she received it.
“We lay on the divan, she beneath me, her mouth glued to mine, her hands stroking me, as I teased her by prodding my organ into her love-hair. She had dark blonde quim-fur but not too much, almost as if it had been shaven for the occasion, and her slit was delicate to the extreme, her quim exceptionally tight. I fondled her breasts, which were saucy little pears with tiny dark buds that stiffened and enlarged after a few kisses, such as yours do, dearest, when I caress them.”
Here Marcia blushed, sighed, put her hands over his, pressed tight against her panting young ivory breasts.
Her legs crossed, her body quivering, she was like a harp ready to be played by the master artist, only requiring the proper notes to be struck to bring forth glorious music.
Here he went on, after a moment of love-play, silent and delicious for both: “Erna suggested, after we had attained our first climax-which hadn't taken too long a time-that she would purposely hold back longer the next time, as she wished to savor its every moment I could spend the entire night sleeping and loving her in bed and then we wouldn't have to think of parting. 'We'll just go to bed when we can't stand anymore. Is that not a very good device? Even if you sleep in Mina's bed, I can come and pay you a visit. It'll be as though our little party were still going on. I haven't got any pajamas to lend you, so you will have to sleep naked and I will too, just to keep you company. When we wake up tomorrow we'll be as stark as a couple of angels. I'll leave a note for the charwoman, telling her when to come back.'
“It was so agreed. Erna had a lovely lithe body. Her bottom was oval, svelte, and very mobile, her thighs long and slender-as were her calves. She had the ability of a young hussy, well-trained and exceptionally passionate, even abandoned. We went back from course to course to exchange caresses. She particularly liked me to wriggle a finger in her tight little bottom-hole while I sucked her nipples. After a dessert of rum cake, she sat on my lap with her back to me and while I fondled her pretty little breasts, I had her from behind. I mean in her quim-she didn't wish to try the other way of love-making except for my finger giving her a postillion while we were locked tight in each other's embrace.
“I pass over the rest of our amours, my dear, not only because it's late, but because she was impure. Erna was uninhibited and showed me that she was made for love and needed it, but that she was impure. Now here let me interpose my own feelings on the subject of purity, darling, the more propitious because, after all, you do come to me virginal. A virgin of twenty is often purer than she was at twelve. Purity in a young girl is proof against all the ordinary chances of life. But there is a point where this admirable paradox breaks down, there is a moment when this purity ought to melt in the heats of love, in the overwhelming crush of sexual ardor. And I feel that even after my sojourn with the very impure Erna, I could not but feel the more tenderly toward a young woman, untouched and proud as yourself, my darling Marcia, whom I was ordained to meet. I promised myself the happiness of introducing a young woman such as this, should she ever come my way-and she has, tonight-to all, little by little, of the exaltations that life and love have taught me-except those which she-you-would certainly not desire for reasons not of modesty but of personal taste. For I attribute to you an infallible gift of discrimination.”
“Oh, Max-angel-but go on. Surely there is another trip this magic carpet took?”
“Yes, three more episodes, only. The last extremely short. I shall take leave of them hurriedly as the lateness of the hour and my desire for you make it quite obvious I can't satisfy myself with words much longer, especially when my fingers are tasting the glory of your beautiful young and hard breasts.”
“Oh, yes, yes, dear-a glass of champagne and a cigarette, then I promise to be very good-or rather, extremely naughty to make it all up to you.”
He procured her requests; she sat up, heedless of her fallen negligee or the abandoned bra, half nude, divinely beautiful with that nuance of sweet wantonness.
4. my fourth affair
“A year later, I went to Warsaw and there in a shop where I did business, I met one day a handsome young brunette whose name was Fanny. The proprietor introduced me to her. She was charming, intelligent, slim, and very feminine in actions and appearance. Unmarried, an orphan I gathered, but an heiress of a large estate in the country. Our conversation led from one little thing to another and I suggested dinner the next evening. She said, faintly enigmatic, 'Tomorrow evening-? No.' Her eyes were black, like Mina's, but very romantic and soft and I pursued my established lead, saying I had to go to Cracow the following day and that I'd send her a wire to set an appointment. She smiled prettily and said she would see to it to be free.
“Now that elated me, and I set forth to Cracow on my indicated time. I had dinner the evening of my arrival at a large restaurant and found myself seated with a youngish woman, not bad to look at. She was kind of plump and voluptuous, a blond version of the Baroness, with fine eyes of an indeterminate color, but a definitely welcoming expression.
“I had heard her addressed as Miss by the head-waiter of the very fashionable restaurant, and a few moments later some man came to exchange polite conversation with her en route to his own table. I gathered from their conversation that she was a painter. The very first words out of her mouth indicated a voice of refinement, seriousness, and sensuality. Then I set out, seeing she was alone, to monopolize her attention rather scandalously, introducing myself to her as an American businessman, stating that I knew I was transgressing the morals of the country, but as a stranger was desirous of improving my poor Polish as well as paying tribute to one of the lovelier products of the country. She smiled rather engagingly at this and said I spoke Polish well enough, when it came to that, to exchange views and make myself clear. I asked if I could see her home in a cab. She thanked me for the offer but said it was a lovely evening and asked me to walk instead. Walking along, it was soon that we were holding hands. I gave her some tender squeezes on her forearm. We chatted, very close to each other as we walked. She showed, Marcia, a charming willingness to play her part. She had a delicacy and I didn't throw myself at my lady's head; I felt the code and ceremony of love play bulked high in her imagination. We sat down on a park bench, staying for an hour. It was a circular retreat among the darkened foliage of trees set gleaming by an occasional street lamp and the illusion was perfect. She seemed to be in a romantic element, her very own. We talked about love, but impersonally-though from time to time I kissed her eloquent and very full-ripe cherry-red mouth. We arranged a meeting for the morning at ten. When we met again, I told her I must send a telegram either confirming an engagement or excusing myself from meeting it, and I asked her if I remained in Cracow she would grant me the favor of coming to see me the next afternoon and staying with me for a long time. She asked me where, and I said, 'In the one place I can play host. Where I stay. I should like, if I may, to offer you a little festivity in my room.'