Eroticon 3 Page 6

  'Nevertheless, because of the mother's falsity I never approached her. I had an antipathy for her that I could not overcome. That is why I turned all my love to the innocent child.'

  Lucette lavished on me hugs and kisses which told me that all her prejudices had been effaced. Warmly I returned her tokens of affection, even taking her enticing breasts and kissing and sucking the pink tips. My father stretched his hand to her and met mine, which he passed over Lucette's stomach and her thighs. Now my hand was guided over the fleece, the mons Veneris, and the crevice. I soon learned the names of all these portions of the female anatomy. Then I put my finger on the spot where I thought I would cause her pleasure. There I came across something rather hard and distended.

  'Good, Laura!' my father complimented me. 'You are holding the most sensitive part. Move your hand without relinquishing the clitoris while I stick my finger in her little cunt.'

  Lucette, her arm about me, caressing my buttocks, took my father's prick and introduced it between my thighs, but he did not put it in nor did he make the slightest movement. Soon my governess was at the peak of pleasure. Her kisses multiplied and her sighs became moans.

  'Stop! That's enough!' she moaned. 'Faster! Put it in all the way, my dearest. My God, I am coming! This is the end.'

  How these expressions of voluptuousness delighted me. I felt that her cunt was all damp. My father's finger came out, all covered with what she had discharged. I was beside myself with excitement. Taking Lucette's hand, I brought it to between my legs so that she would do to me what I had done for her, but my father, covering my mound with his hand, stopped her. He was too much of a libertine not to be sparing of his pleasures, and he moderated his desires, leaving me up in the air by recommending us to calm ourselves. We fell asleep, our arms interlaced, plunged into the sweetest intoxication. I had never spent such a delicious night.

  When the rays of the morning sun brought us back to life, Lucette and I looked at each other. Then I noticed a note pinned to the chair. It was from Papa who wrote that he would be away all day, but he knew that Lucette would take good care of me. Excitedly, I reminded my companion that it was the servants' day off and we would be alone. We beamed at each other with radiant smiles.

  I nestled closer to her for I loved to sniff the sharp odour that came from her svelte body. I nuzzled my nose between her breasts to breathe it in more deeply. It reminded me of carrots, and every time I smelled it, I quivered with excitement.

  'I think I am too fat,' she remarked. 'Don't you think so?'

  She lifted up her nightgown as if to prove her point. I wondered why she thought she was so fat. Her legs were lovely and well-rounded, and her buttocks dimpled and charming. There was not the trace of a bulge on her body. The magnificent breasts were so heavy that I wondered how they could jut out as they did. And I could not keep my eyes from the clump of luxuriant hair under her armpits. When she turned her back to me, I saw her derriere; two superb hemispheres that must have been fashioned in heaven.

  'You are not too plump,' I affirmed again. 'On the contrary, it seems to me that you are just right.'

  She gave me a pleased pout as she got out of bed and walked to the desk with the cheeks of her bottom swaying seductively from side to side. She returned to the warm bed with a large album of art reproductions, many of them of nude women and in colour.

  'Look,' she said, pointing out one to me. 'She is far more slender than I.'

  'Yes, but on the other hand, this woman by Rubens is far plumper than you.'

  'That may be so, but I still should lose some weight. A massage does the trick, and you can help me if you wish.'

  'I? ...Massage you? I have never done that before...'

  'There's nothing difficult about it. It's just the sort of favour one does for a friend. And you are my friend, aren't you?'

  I puffed up with pride at that. But I felt a certain uneasiness not unmingled with anticipation.

  'And I have just the thing for a massage,' she added with a slight blush.

  'What do you mean by that?' I asked her in some puzzlement. 'I always thought you massaged with the hands.'

  'There are also appliances that are helpful in removing excess flesh... I'll get mine.'

  She went to her room and came back with a rubber glove covered with bumps. It reminded me of the skin of a toad. Lucette ran it up and down my arm. It gave me goose-pimples but the sensation was not unpleasant.

  'How do you like it, Laura?' she asked with a glint in her eyes.

  Then she applied it on her shoulders, her arms and above her breasts. I felt a twinge of envy.

  'I hope I'll be able to use it correctly and not hurt you. I have never seen anything like that before. If I am clumsy, please forgive me.'

  'There's no danger, but I'll have to lie down.' Now she was on her stomach, lovelier than ever, particularly since her lush body was reflected in the wall mirror.

  'Now start at the top of my back,' she ordered. This promised to be fun. The skin quivered and turned pink where I touched it with my gloved hand. Lucette remained motionless, her head between her arms and her hair over her eyes. After vigorously treating the glorious buttocks, she suddenly turned over.

  'And now the breasts, Laura.'

  Nervously, I did as I was bid. The gorgeous globes shivered as much as my hand. Taking my hand, she made it descend to one of the rosy nipples.

  'Look,' she said.

  To my astonishment, I saw it dilate, swell, get hard and jut out. It became a crimson mountain peak. Then she made me put it on the other. As I rubbed the mound, there occurred, to my uneasiness, the same phenomenon.

  'I'm in heaven,' Lucette blissfully sighed. 'That's the way nipples become when they are handled that way. Now the belly, Laura, and the hips. It is so wonderful when you do it, and I can't tell you how grateful I am.'

  My eyes were glued to the hard breasts, the hollow navel, and the dark triangle whose hair extended almost all the way up to her waist. Mentally, I compared myself with her. I had only a pitiful little fleece there, while hers was a carpet, a beautiful luxurious Persian rug.

  I revolved the glove on her stomach around her navel. I did not dare get too close to the triangle, for I was afraid that it might get tangled in the matted hair, and hurt her. She was lasciviously wiggling her hips with her eyes shut. It was obvious that she was in an incipient ecstasy. Her toes contracted and sometimes her knee twitched when I got too close to the erogenous zone.

  'Now between the thighs,' she murmured without opening her eyes. I observed that her nipples were straining more than ever.

  Reassured that I was giving her pleasure, I redoubled my efforts as I rubbed the glove on the silky skin. But I could not keep my eyes from the luxuriant thicket. I wondered how what it was concealing would look like.

  I was sure that mine would be put to shame in comparison.

  The more I kept at it, the more pleasure it gave me. I was not a little disappointed when she told me to stop. Reading my feelings in my face, Lucette laughed.

  'I can see that you are unwilling to give up, dearest Laura,' she said. 'But don't be disappointed, I need a bit of a breathing spell, for that puts my nerves on edge. Why, you are perspiring! Take off your nightgown. You'll be much more comfortable. I don't think you are bashful after last night.'

  'A little,' I confessed, but I followed her suggestion.

  'Completely nude, that's the way I want you,' she breathed. 'I adore nudity. I can never get enough of looking at myself naked in a mirror. I never feel alone when I can regard my reflection in the mirror. We were so excited last night that I did not notice what adorable little breasts you have. And what promise your delicate figure shows!'

  The compliments gave me so much pleasure that I could not conceal my blushes. I wanted to bury my face in her arms. Hurling myself at her, I feverishly kissed her cheeks. She looked at me straight in the eyes, holding my gloved hands in hers.

  'Continue,' she commanded.

  Eagerly, t
oo eagerly I resumed my task. She promptly rebuked me.

  'Not so fast and not so hard,' she scolded. 'Just run it gently over my whole body. Do you understand?'

  Now I did not press down so hard. Lucette closed her eyes in contentment.

  'It's like a lover's caress,' she murmured.

  In the mirror I could see the bed, the naked body of my new friend, and mine which was trembling and twitching. At the same time, I regarded my little, rounded, apple-like breasts with their tawny tips, and came to the conclusion that I was not too bad. Perhaps I was not as abundant as Lucette, but I was not her inferior. My charms were just on a smaller scale.

  Now her mouth was agape and her breathing laboured. I twisted the glove on her stomach and breasts. Each time I touched a nipple, she gave a start, convulsively lifted a knee, and spread her legs. When I took the rubber glove away, she became motionless.

  'Farther down, Laura,' she whispered as if I were neglecting her spread thighs. I massaged the inside of them. From the knees, the glove gradually ascended to the groin and the buttocks.

  It was then that I noticed a curious movement of her pelvis. She kept lifting and dropping it in fits and starts. At the same time, she was rattling in her throat and trying to catch her breath.

  Going up still farther, I put the glove on the hairs of her mound. Her jerky movements became more, agitated and vehement. Suddenly, she grasped my hand and spread her legs as far apart as she could.

  'There... there!' she panted. 'Don't take it away. Keep it where it is. How good it feels!'

  I was a little afraid at the way she was flopping about. Her legs shot up in the air and then limply dropped. I watched her face. It was livid, contorted in a grimace that deformed her features. Horrified, I tried to take away the glove, but she held it firmly in position. I wondered what was wrong with her. After more convulsions, both her body and face relaxed. For several minutes she remained without life or movement.

  When I took off the glove, wondering if I had hurt her with it, she opened her eyes and smiled sweetly at me.

  'It was sheer bliss,' she said dreamily.

  I was dumbfounded. How could she say a thing like that when I had seen how she was suffering?

  'You don't understand, I see,' she told me. 'And I can't explain. It is something that you have to experience yourself. Do you want me to massage you in turn?'

  'But won't it hurt?' I timidly asked. 'You were groaning and moaning so, and the words you said, I was really afraid.'

  'Do you love me that much, Laura?'

  'Yes, yes, I love you... more than anything.'

  In such gambols we spent the day and night.

  Three Times a Woman

  When Princess Nelidowa went to bed for the first time with Alexey Sokolow she understood of a sudden what her marriage would cost her. She had known that His Highness, the Ex-Governor, her exalted Prince-husband, was wealthy and she would have social position and power. But there, lying next to her like an orang-utan was the ugly body of the man who was now by right and law her master, mentally and physically. He was bald but had plenty of woolly hair around the lower part of his head, growing into a long thick beard reaching to his chest which was covered with thick black hair. His chest was enormously broad, his arms short and muscular with broad short hands, and he had an enormous belly with a tissue of muscles all around the waistline. His skin was dark, his thighs almost brown. He had small piercing suspecting eyes and a big mouth with the lower lip especially thick and sensual. His prick was short and thick and his balls betrayed at a glance that they held plenty of ammunition and loved the shooting game.

  During the long stupendous wedding with a thousand new faces congratulating her, everybody bowing deeply before the Prince, who was in a jovial mood, she had been thrilled. He had seemed handsome clad in a brilliant blue uniform studded with glittering medals and buttons of real gold and with a snow-white wig with a long pigtail, which had dangled frivolously over the gold collar of his costume. He had worn high patent leather boots and rings with dazzling stones. It was thus that Nelidowa, the bride, had first seen her new spouse. She had been startled to fright when the cannons bellowed on their arrival at the palace and was moved to tears when the Archbishop (think of it, a real Archbishop performing the ceremony, and in her home town, not even the lowest monk would listen to her confession) spoke the blessings for them. She had drunk it into herself, blinded with the splendour, and had made all kinds of good promises to herself. She had been in a trance, had kissed her new hand-maids and assured them heaven on earth when they undressed her late at night, and she had gone to her new husband (according to his orders quite nude) intending to thank and thank him, to tell him that she was going to be his chattel and his faithful wife. But when she lay next to him, when she observed how this Prince of the costly uniform had changed into an abhorrent brute, she had not been able to say a word.

  Prince Alexey Sokolow did not expect a word from her. He had never thought of a woman as a human being but as his property. He owned many and kept dozens of serf girls always near his bedroom. He had them follow him on his voyages. He had had them since his father first ordered him to fuck a girl when he was sixteen years of age. He had never had an affair with a society girl, because she was somebody else's property. While he made many daring business ventures and acquired the estates of many men convicted for political or other reasons during his two score years as governor, women were something not to be taken illegally. If you liked a bitch, you could buy her; there was always a price which could be met.

  During his trips to Western Europe, he had learned that there were harlots, whom one could buy for an hour or a day. He even brought to Russia with him some wenches who did a nice job in bed. It seemed money wasted, however, because his own slave girls could do as well and even better. They were harder, had no moods and were easily put in their places when they did not behave properly.

  Alexey had no special love habits. He did not know about the refinements of copulation; he just wanted a good fuck. He wanted to put it in to his own satisfaction, regardless of the pleasure of his partner, and was satisfied when the arse moved up and down against him. That is, it had been so when he was younger and had not yet acquired his belly. Now he would not have been able to touch the spot with his machine had he laid himself on top of a girl. With his growing belly he had discovered a better position; the girl had to kneel straddle-legged over him and move up and down while he lay still, moving only the muscles of his enormous buttocks alternately. He also managed to give his shaft a to-and-fro movement without lifting his arse from the linen, because the muscles were well developed around his sex-organs.

  He did not explain much of this to his bride. She really was stunning looking and he was well satisfied with this new acquirement to his bed assortment. He had not married her for love, and if she had not pleased him he would have fucked her once or twice (he liked to take maidenheads) and then probably forgotten her. But she was a good morsel and he was going to use her. He broke her in without further ado. He felt her over with his thick hands, he rudely forced his finger into her pussy, he pulled her on top of him, he spanked her bottom a bit, in short he first took possession of her with his hands.

  Nelidowa tried to make it easy for herself by kissing him on the cheeks (with closed eyes) by snuggling against him (to her own disgust) and by not struggling when she felt his big finger enter her hole. Then with a jerk, holding her with his hands at the waistline, he sat her with his powerful arms on top of his testicles. Nelidowa knew well what it was all about; a married girl friend had told her, so she understood that Master Prick, now cornered between her Venus Hill and the steep wall of his belly, had to go into the cage and she knew that it would hurt her. But she was not only required to stand for it, she had to put it in herself; she had, with her own weight, to tear that little piece of skin which is precious only to virgins. She did not have the nerve. She stared with fixed eyes at the brute who was lying below her, a few hours ago sti
ll an utter stranger and now entitled to defile her.

  'Put it in and sit on it and fuck,' yelled Alexey to her. Poor Nelidowa. She took that hard instrument, so broad but still not so long, in her nimble fingers. She moved it towards the entrance and nervously lowered her bottom. But things needed a more vigorous handling. Alexey was prepared for that. He did not like to induce a woman to do this or that; he did not like to fumble. He had taken more virgins than one since his belly had grown. He had expected even more resistance from his bride and the usual preparation had been made.

  He struck a little gong on his night table. Three servant girls rushed in. Before Nelidowa knew it, two had got hold of her with an expert grip: one hand went underneath each knee, took hold of it and stretching the leg as far from the middle of the body as possible, the other hands grabbed her shoulder. She was lifted up a bit and lowered down carefully. Meanwhile the third girl took the tail of her master with one hand, opened up with apt fingers the unused cunt, and saw to it that both met in the right way. She then commanded: PUSH, and both women, holding the Princess, gave a satisfactory pressure to her shoulders. Satisfactory, because Master Prick was in and had pierced the little membrane.

  Nelidowa howled, the Prince moved his bottom, the girls let go of her knees and took hold of her waist and shoulders and moved her up and down. It took about five minutes for the Prince to come.

  The Princess received a washing and the master was likewise cleaned up from the blood. She had to lie down again alongside her master. 'You'll learn,' he said. 'And now we'll show you how the next part has to be done.' He bedded her head on his hairy chest, put her hand on his machine and told her to massage it tenderly. As she did so he groaned and snorted, his fat hand on her small bottom. It pleased him that her arse was small and her thighs straight and slim; when the girls were fleshy it was hard for him to bury his prick deep into their cunts.

  After a while he was stiff again. The gong sounded a snappy order, and a serf-girl ready for work entered the room. She knew what to do. She mounted the master, so that her face was towards his feet and her back towards his belly. He put some more pillows under his head and managed to bend forward enough so that he could reach the behind of the girl, who was riding him with slow firm motions up and down. He lay perfectly still, his hand playing with her behind, and he found her arse hole and squeezed his finger in just as he came. After that he lay quietly and had himself washed with a wet towel.