With a soft perfumed palm against his mouth she silenced him, laughing and turning to him a face roguish and bewitchingly teasing, shaking her head till her curls danced. “No, kind sir, no flattery just yet. Pray, go on with this tale out of the New Arabian nights.”
“So I shall,” he said, removing her hand gently and placing a kiss on that soft young palm. “If you but give me leave to speak. Then hear me. When at last she had finished the tongue bathing of my thighs, perilously near that which took her regard most…”
“You mean your penis, don't you, darling?” blithely intervened the brown-haired beauty, and this at last drew a gasp of astonished pleasure and sensual admiration from the handsome sophisticate.
“Er-yes-the devil take me if I can go on telling stories when this minx I married only a few hours ago plies me with words like that,” he sallied.
“I fear you have no choice,” remarked Marcia merrily. Now her left hand completely unfastened the belt and she slid just a few inches closer to him on the loveseat. “Go on, please. Don't keep a lady waiting; it's bad manners,” she cajoled him. When he recovered his poise, he said, “She put her lips now-very well, since you wish frankness, I shall grant your request-to my penis-and began the most elusive series of delicate fringing kisses, like butterfly flutters, that anyone of ardent love could dream or conjure. I closed my eyes, Marcia, and I felt my blood boiling. I felt myself throb with a tremendous vitality. But just as quickly as she had begun she stopped, as if nothing had happened, and began now to work the ointment on her fingers into my thighs. Toward the end, she caressed…”
“Your testicles, darling?”
Again she astounded him and made him gulp.
“You little devil! Yes, my testicles, if you must know, and on these too she applied the ointment. Then rising, she began to lave my waist and belly with her lips and tongue while her soft fingers stroked and caressed my back and buttocks. I was by now almost delirious with passion.”
“You wouldn't be the man I married if you hadn't been,” capriciously declared the exquisitely provocative young wife. And before he could express his adoration of her she hastily added, “Please light me another cigarette and kiss it for me, darling.”
He did, then he went on. “She made me turn then, and again knelt and began to tongue bathe me from behind, working in the ointment as for the front. But then, to my amazement, she put her hand on my buttocks, opened them, and I suddenly felt her tongue…”
“On your anus. You see I read books too, my darling. Oh, how very thrilling and lovely. There are times I wish I had been born a male.”
“Marcia, another remark like that and that'll be the end of my storytelling and the start of your bridal duties.”
She sighed deeply as with remorse, but her eyes and lips laughed to belie it. “I almost wish I could let myself be persuaded, darling,” she whispered, nibbling at his ear, then sitting away primly as he turned to kiss her, “but I just have to hear the story. So I'll be good. Word of honor!”
“Very well, then, but this is the last time,” he warned jestingly. “I uttered a groan of delight and she at once desisted, murmuring, 'Oh, did I startle you? I didn't mean to embarrass you.' I told her in a rather unsteady voice that it was on the contrary so thrilling and unexpected that I found myself overcome with emotion, and she said in a very sweet, clear voice, 'Well, then, perhaps if the master of ceremonies should question you as to the services I rendered, you will be kind enough to say they were satisfactory.'
“I assured her I would and she thanked me. This dialogue was so remarkable that I shall never forget it, and only the very evident sincerity of the young woman and the thrilling sensual feelings she engendered in my body kept me from bursting into hilarious laughter at the sheer audacity and fantasy of it all. At last, she completed the bathing and anointing and helped me on with the robe that had been set out to wear. Then standing before me, she murmured, 'If you would wish to repay me, there is yet a little time, I believe.' 'How shall I repay your delicate and intimate service, my sweet Irma?' I asked her. She glanced at the door, then smiled at me confidingly and murmured, 'By administering to me what I did to you. That is, if it does not disgust you.'”
“What a perfectly darling girl she was, Max. Oh, I wish I had been Irma then!”
He almost dropped his cigarette. Then clearing his throat, he murmured, “So do I, but do you want me to go on?”
“Oh, by all means, darling, I'm fearfully excited.”
As if to prove it, the stunning girl gently loosened the folds of her negligee so that the satin of the bra might be visible to his eager eyes.
Because he was a connoisseur, wise in love's ways, Max tantalized himself by not looking at the expanse of flesh and lingerie and, eyes to the ceiling, went on.
“I told her that such a privilege as she wished me to grant was too great an honor and she remarked, flushing a bit, that she would not have offered it-in fact she almost never did-were it not for the fact that I had struck her fancy for my discretion and considerate behavior toward her. Without the least show of coyness, she removed her garments and stood before me naked except for the pumps and hose with their coquettish, red crepe garters at the top. She told me that I doubtless knew, being a man of the world and cultured, that there were many women who found the act of intercourse distasteful and who took their pleasures in a limited way in a method that suggested Sapphism. She said that in preparing the victim for the sacrifice-to use that lovely phrase you coined — it gave her a twin pleasure. First, it satisfied her own rather special sensuality and secondly it roused the candidate to take his or her pleasure with others who desired just that. Actually, in fulfilling the duties as intimate maid, she gave and received pleasure.”
“A very extraordinary young woman, Max dear, and you didn't try-to convert her, while you were alone? Especially when she was all naked? Tell me, was her body lovely? What was she like?”
“I said she was petite, dearest. I'd say about five feet tall, no more. A very white skin, creamy white. A swan-like neck, lovely arms perfectly proportioned, not too robust at the upper curves at all, with dimpled shoulders and a fine supple waist, a magnificent and well developed bosom-like two small canteloupes they were, and the darkest nipples I had ever seen in all my life.”
“Mmmmm, she does sound appetizing. I marvel at your self-control, my Max.”
“I marvel at my own now when you're exciting me, you provocative little devil,” he countered, and they both then laughed merrily and held hands a moment, exchanging passionate glances. He felt his blood traveling, tingling, singing in his veins.
“Well, do go on, you've only painted your Venus with words down to the waist. Surely she had other charms,” Marcia taunted.
“Indeed she did, Miss Curiosity. Her thighs were short, but beautifully rounded. She had plump long calves, very rounded, dimpled knees, and a very compact, almost boyish bottom, except it was far too spacious to be mistaken for a boy's.”
“You won't mistake mine for one, I assure you my love.”
His blood flamed. “I've half a mind to investigate the truth of that flippant and boastful remark here and now, with the good flat of my hand applied to it,” he retorted.
She shrank back pretending fear. “Oh not yet. At least-not till you've piloted your famous magic carpet home again, sweetheart. Then you may do as you wish to me-and I shan't utter a word of protest.”
And once again the promise in her deep green eyes was so thrilling as to make time stand still.
He went on, lighting a cigarette for each of them. “I complimented her rather extravagantly on the beauty of her body-it would have been ungallant to do otherwise-and she thanked me very sweetly, then said, 'and now it does grow a bit late-if you wish?' And with this she lay down on her back on the sofa, beckoning me to her with a lovely gesture, her hand motioning toward her loins.”