blinds.
Monique, her throat tense with desire, walked along the balcony that was encircling the house, the wood of the balcony was still warm with the sun of the passed day. She came by Sonia's room and through the blades of the Venetian blinds she peeped into the room.
Sonia was naked in Pierre's arms, and he was caressing her with his delicate hands.
Already the man was undressing and he let Monique admire his tool, of a reasonable size, over the round testicles, and darting from the pubic hair like a pole.
Glued to each other, caressing each other, the couple's pleasure was growing. He turned her on her back, on the bed. She lifted her widely open legs and kneeling in front of her, he glued his mouth to her sex. Soon the love song came in the room while he was caressing her breasts with his nervous hands. The spasm was quick to come and she uttered a hoarse cry, her fingers dug deep in the man's hair. He got up and lay down upon her. His prick was in her immediately. Monique could see it go in and out between their opened thighs. It was pumping in the pink mouth, swallowed by the lips contracted with desire that were absorbing it completely, the testicles were touching, flapping against the woman's buttocks, while their mouths uttered inarticulated words of passion and love.
The gaudy images of Monique's school life came to her mind. It was the first time that she saw a woman penetrated by a man's tool. Of course she herself manipulated a rubber dildo in the cunt of her school director; she knew the terrible pleasure that it provoked, but it had not reached the strength of the embrace of the couple under her eyes. The male penetrated her flesh, but never in the sex… she was still a virgin. She had to, first by force and then by pleasure, let men go deep in her guts, between the opened buttocks. It was through her horribly distended asshole that came the first pleasure under the male embrace.
Her finger on her cunt, Monique was vigorously masturbating and when the couple, in an ultimate rattle let loose to pleasure, she came with them, her moistened finger trembling frantically, sweat dripping at her temples, and she uttered a deep sigh in the night. The couple separated and as Pierre was walking to the window Monique ran back to her room. Between the cool sheets she recovered a little tranquility, but could not find her sleep.
Later, much later in the night she heard the steps of the man fade away in the garden under the moon.
CHAPTER TWO
Monique was awakened by the sun, late in the morning. She put on a bathing suit and called for Jacques who was playing in the garden. With him she ran to the sea to bathe. They let the sun dry them, then crossed the lane to return to the villa but he stopped her by a bush, and pointing at her breasts under the brassiere of her bathing costume, he said:
“You promised me…”
She smiled and refused. He insisted, getting closer to her, she could feel his virility getting bigger under the material of his trunks. A strange feeling came in her mind, and in her body. She moved a little bit away from him, looked around and undid her brassiere. He contemplated her, stunned, as if he could not believe what his eyes saw. The two huge globes were pointing upwards, milky, round, perfectly horizontal, with their nipples a nice dark pink, a little bit elongated by the repeated deep suctions and other treatments that she suffered for years. They were like two of the hardest exotic fruits pointing on her palpitating body. Monique knew how beautiful her breasts were, how many times had she seen the desire in the wondering looks of the little girls, women, and also the few men who contemplated the naked torso. Even under the blouse they did not pass unnoticed. But also, what tortures did she have to endure because of those…
Jacques, his mouth dry with emotion, caressed with trembling fingers the hardened teats, then sucked greedily at the sensitive nipples. Sweet and soft sucking came first of all, then he got more demanding and voracious, as his hands were caressing the waist, the flat stomach, and the firm buttocks. Monique let the young boy use and abuse her flesh, but when she felt the excitation come in her too, she remembered the afternoon at the club…
“Be patient darling,” she said freeing herself with difficulties from the embrace of the child. “Let me go, let me… another time, I promise you, I will let you do anything… another time…”
She covered him with passionate kisses while the young fingers were caressing the huge globes and the lips posing everywhere on the salted skin.
She succeeded in freeing herself, but while she was putting her brassiere, he, always kneeling, was kissing the inside of her thighs, then her pubis. At last she got up and running with him to appease their senses, they went back to the villa.
She listened to the day's program from Sonia, whose tired eyes proved how delightfully hard the combat with Pierre must have been. She was annoyed to hear that people were expected at the villa in the afternoon, but, on the other hand, Sonia was going out the same night.
In the afternoon she took her nap, while waiting for the visitors. Naked on her bed, her eyes half closed, a cigarette between her lips, she reviewed the main events of her life.
It had been a very ordinary life. Her parents were not rich. She studied till she was twelve and that was all. Then her father died. The mother, a very young, good musician, suffered from the loneliness of her condition, but because of her beauty, she was surrounded by a court of admirers. Certain of those admirers, Monique understood later, financially helped her, and received in exchange the mother's embrace. But it was all very discreet and tactful.
Monique was a big girl, physically quite advanced for her age. Her shape was full of promise and very often she was the subject of the attention of her mother's friends. In the beginning, Monique did not react, did not understand-then a vicious friend of hers educated her, and revealed to her Sapphic pleasures which developed very rapidly in her a taste for voluptuousness.
Through that bias, she understood the attraction of one body for another body, particularly by means of her breasts and buttocks. She understood the meaning of men's caresses in spite of a certain innocence as to what use could be made of her sex out of the caresses of an expert tongue. She thought that that was the highest peak that one could reach in pleasure through sex, and that nothing else was to be expected from it. As she was logical, she gave the caress back, in spite of the fact that she did not like to do it as much as to receive it. She learned how to make her body look better with the little lingerie that she had. Another girl friend, a schoolmate with richer parents, gave her a grand taste for delicate underclothes and in spite of her very young age, she often admired her own modest lingerie in the mirror.
This was not unnoticed by the house's familiars. One of the men, more audacious, taking less care of the mother, reported his diligent attention. One night she went with her mother and another friend, to this man's house for dinner. After the dinner, as everyone was gay and happy from the meal and the fine wines, she went out with the old friend, while her mother and the other guest went into the garden, apparently to chit chat. As soon as Monique and the man were alone together, he drew her close to him. He put his hand into her blouse and touched the already round and firm breasts under the brassiere. She let him do it half out of curiosity and half out of vice, and it excited her. He was talking slowly, gently, tenderly, and when he slid his hand under the short skirt, she let him crumple the little pants. She felt the air on her naked buttocks, on her belly, on her naked thighs. With her thighs closed together at first, she let him caress her propped bottom. She resisted a long moment, scared by the finger that was trying to insinuate itself between her thighs, and gave up under its lascivious caress. He was gentle, not brutal at all. He was expert in the art of caressing Monique's little rose, pointed, hardened, and damp. She let pleasure engulf her, half troubled by the wines and by the perverse caresses. Everything was turning around her, as in a merry-go-round.
He took off the little leather belt, and before she could protest, lifted up skirt and slip, up to the neck. He rapidly admired in the moonlight the body precociously formed; and he sucked at the breasts and gave a few crazy caresses…
Then he let her dress herself again, silent, ashamed. Then he took her in his arms and quieted her, as she nervously had started crying. He dried her tears and promised her all kind of things. They walked together back to the house and met the guests. Someone was very busy behind some bushes with Monique's mother. When she saw
