Pauline

I was doomed to disappointment, though I didn't find out the truth of it until the following day.

True to her word, she took me on a sightseeing tour of the city and, among other places we visited was a “massage parlor” in a secluded section of the city. The “massaging” was done, not on one's back, but chiefly between one's thighs. And it was then I discovered that while Camilla delighted in having a pretty a girl “entertain” her that way, she never did it herself. Upon questioning her as to why she didn't, she said, “I do not know. It's simply that I never desired it that way, I guess.'

That ended that. Camilla was not for me; as long as she would not reciprocate there was no further reason why I should look forward to a party with her. I did, however, find her rather helpful in my search for a man. She arranged a dinner party for me and promised to invite a friend. Such affairs were common, she said, and I promised to come.

Camilla had suggested I wear my naughtiest dress, and this I did. Wearing naughty attire was my greatest delight, and since it had been some time since I had had a man, I rather looked forward to meeting this promised Adonis.

I found Henri's friend rather good looking. In fact, he resembled Ferry.

Camilla, it seemed, had written to Henri about making the arrangements for this meeting, and Henri, good soul that he was, had brought the gentleman with him. They both arrived late Saturday afternoon. Dinner had been announced for eight, and I had plenty of opportunity to study my new acquaintance. My dress, as Camilla had suggested, was rather in keeping with such a gathering, and though it was delightfully naughty, Camilla went me one better.

Hers was a white satin affair cut in such a manner as to show both her well-formed breasts and set off the outlines of her splendid figure by its tightness.

The dinner was a success and long before we left the table the wine had gotten in its effects, for all four of us were feeling quite kittenish.

It was Camilla, however, who started things off. I could see from the very start that she intended making it a real party. All through the repast she flirted, and just as her maid placed coffee and cigarettes before us, she said, “Perhaps you gentlemen might help settle a dispute.'

Her eyes were dilated, her full lips were even more full and red than usual, and the nipples of her breasts were firm and erect and looked for all the world like tiny strawberries.

'Indeed,” said Henri, “I hope you two beauties haven't quarreled after so short an acquaintance.'

Camilla laughed. “Nothing as bad as that, my dear; it's simply that we disagreed about women.'

'Sounds interesting,” Phillip (that being my friend's name) offered by way of assisting in what he must have known was to follow. “Go ahead, Camilla, and tell us; perhaps Henri and I can help you settle your dispute.'

'Yes, by all means tell us about it,” chirped Henri.

'Well,” began Camilla, selecting and lighting a cigarette, “I insisted that Russia produced the most beautiful women in the world, and my new friend here, being German, insisted that Germany produced the most perfect women.'

'What in the world would cause you girls to argue over a thing like that?” asked Henri. “I supposed I had settled that long ago.'

'You might have settled it as far as you're concerned,” chimed in Phillip, “but I, too, have my ideas regarding beauty.'

'Indeed, and what is your idea on the matter? Tell us.'

'Well,” Phillip said, eyeing me naughtily, “I quite agree with my little friend, here. If she is an example of Germany 's women, then I agree with her, although your Camilla, Henri, is quite beautiful.'

'Thank you,” I said, patting his hand and smiling sweetly. “I at least have one friend among us.'

'Not at all, not at all,” he said. “I am quite sincere about it.'

'A man will always stick up for his mistress, and having seen my darling Camilla naked many times…'

'Henri!” cried Camilla, making believe she was dreadfully shocked. “What will our friends think of us, talking like that!'

'But it's true, isn't it?” asked Henri, trying to tease her.

'Just the same, you need not advertise it. Besides, I'm but one woman, you know.'

'Don't quarrel, don't quarrel,” cried Phillip, “but tell us what started the argument.'

'Well,” began Camilla, “we visited a clothes shop a few days ago, and we got to discussing the models…'

'So,” cried Henri, “You've been cheating again, have you?'

'Not the way you mean, naughty,” answered Camilla. “Remember, my dear, there are none but girls there.'

'That may be true, but I happen to know what you passionate women go there for.'

'Then you shouldn't go away and leave us alone for so long,” cried Camilla. “Besides, a little kiss never hurt anyone, and if you recall, dear, you said I could go there if I'd promise never to flirt with some man.'

The party was getting under way with a bang. The dinner over, we moved from the table and into the front room. The maid brought in champagne and glasses, and Camilla said, “After you have removed the dinner things you may go; we won't need you further tonight.'

Camilla looked at me and winked. When she first proposed this affair, she had asked me if I was game for a real party. I told her I would do anything she suggested and that the sky was the limit. She had said something about going a little higher than the sky, and I had readily agreed. And now that she had dismissed her maid I could look forward to anything.

Phillip and I had taken seats, and Camilla had thrown herself down in rather a sprawled position and was waiting for the drinks Henri was preparing for us. This drunk and our glasses filled again, Henri settled down beside Camilla. “Now tell us something more about this argument,” he said.

'Well, as I said, we happened to meet there to select new gowns, and as they began displaying the models, we got to discussing them. They are of all nationalities, as you know, and I happened to say that I thought the Russian women were the most beautiful.'

'Well?” Henri said, as though to hurry Camilla.

'Well,” Camilla continued, “we didn't get anywhere in our argument, so we decided to let you boys decide it for us. My contention was that, since the ballet was made up chiefly of Russian women, the world accepted them as the best formed.'

'In what way?” asked Phillip.

'Their legs, of course,” said Camilla.

'Nonsense,” I offered in my own defense. “The German women have as well-formed legs as any others.'

'I quite agree,” Phillip said.

'And I agree with Camilla,” insisted Henri. “When I chose Camilla as my mistress, I chose her from a hundred women of various nationalities. I know women, and Camilla has the most beautiful legs and thighs of any woman I have ever seen.'

Phillip, not to be outdone, said, “Again I dispute with you. I have never had the pleasure of seeing this beautiful woman's legs, but if what I can see is anything like the rest of her, then I am of the opinion that she is far more beautiful than your Camilla.'

'Indeed, she is not,” cried Camilla, “and I stand ready to prove it, too.'

'Ah, but legs aren't everything,” cried Henri. “A woman may have beautiful legs and be out of proportion otherwise. When an artist paints a nude he has, perhaps, a dozen or more models. He paints the feet of one, the legs of another, and still another's buttocks, while others may provide head or breasts. No,” he continued, sighing, “I'm afraid Camilla's right. You forget that I chose her from hundreds, and have seen her completely nude scores of times.'

'Oh, Henri, you're wicked! But thanks for taking my side of the argument,” she said, and she leaned over in his arms offering her half-open mouth to his.

'I'm afraid that lets me out of the argument,” Phillip said with a great sigh. “I have tried to be loyal to you, but I'll have to withdraw now.'

Not to be outdone when it was plain that the party was just getting hot, I said, “You're just like all men, Phillip, letting me down like that.'