Julia had regained her confidence again and Michael, noticing this, put his arms around her shoulder and pulled her toward him. A warm feeling flowed through Julia. She had not known this since that day Count Saski had left her to marry the choice of his Aunt Athena. It seemed ages ago now. She relaxed against Michael's strong shoulder with a contented sigh.
“Madcap… you are so beautiful,” the young man whispered.
Madcap did not answer, but Michael's hand upon her heart could feel it pound strongly.
“You know, darling, that the sight of beauty is headier than the best wine to an artist. Can't you feel how my entire heart cries out for you? Can you understand that this moment will decide whether my life is going to be happy or unhappy? I beg of you, be a woman, a real woman, and don't play with me. Please, don't let convention force you to hide your true feelings. Tell me, do you love me as much as I love you?”
Julia did not answer. Her head nestled more comfortably against his shoulders. She looked up at him, and their lips met in a passionate kiss. When they broke loose to take a deep breath, they both knew that they were in love with each other. Past and present disappeared. Time stood still, and they were both drunk with heavy passion. Michael stammered, “I love you… please, be mine… always,” and his hands fumbled around with her clothing. He began to get impatient and finally ripped the buttons of her pearl-gray travel custome.
A cloud of delicious perfume came toward him. It was a mixture of pure woman smell and costly essence. It fired his passions to greater action and he simply ripped off the remaining clothes. He caressed her white shoulders with passionate kisses. It was not the brutality of rape, but the tender caress of a connoisseur.
During this wild embrace his hands worked quickly unbuttoning Julia's bodice, stripping her stockings, her corset, and finally the last part of her clothing fell to the floor and she lay naked in his arms.
She had made one last defensive gesture; one could not call it a struggle, and he knew that it was the last vestige of convention which still had a strong hold on her. But he also knew that he was winning. She was sighing happily under his expert caresses. He became bolder. He tickled the thighs of the beautiful young woman with his blond beard.
Julia was stretched halfway across the couch now, and only the goose pimples on her tender skin were silent witnesses to the intensity with which she received Michael's love. The artist pushed her softly back upon the pillows, threw her legs around his neck and opened his trousers which suddenly had become quite uncomfortable because of the enormous bulge.
The firm, round thighs were now directly in front of him, their apex crowned by her lovely Venus mound covered with radiant black curls. It drove him out of his mind. His lips eagerly sought the costly treasure, but Julia had had enough foreplay-she wanted the real thing. There are people who are that lucky! Once they meet the right person, elaborate necking and petting is not necessary. They keep that as a dessert rather than using their energy for the hors d'oeuvre. Both Michael and Julia belonged to these elect people; their ecstasies lasted for hours and hours.
They did not dream about separating their bodies after they had been shaken by the paroxysms of their lovemaking. Instead, they kept arms and legs intertwined, their lips warmly together, whispering endearing words to one another, especially, “I love you.”
And then, after only a few minutes, they would go at it again with as much enthusiasm as if they had been love-starved for weeks.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The hours had flown by, and it was almost four o'clock in the afternoon. Julia de Corriero and Michael Lompret were still closely pressed together. Michael was slowly rubbing Julia's backside and rump, and the effects was magical. She pressed herself closer against him and her breathing quickened. He kept it up for quite some time and finally she was slowly spasming again.
“And now, my darling, pull up your legs, brace yourself, and lift up a little bit…”
Michael had been fully in command all day, though there was really no need for him to tell her what to do. She had lifted herself so high that he had to watch out not to lose his equilibrium.
“Ooh… I can't… any longer.”
“Am I… tormenting you, dearest Madcap?”
“You must… be… kidding! Oooooh… aah!”
Her passion was burning wildly again.
“I… can't… can't… stand… it…”
Her breathing was slow and heavy; she kept hovering on the verge.
“Oooooooh! Now!”
It wouldn't come.
Michael doubled his thrusts and soon his rod overflowed. She started to quiver under him, closed her eyes and her little pleasure fountain started to bubble. It filled to the brim and flowed over. They both fell in a voluptuous swoon and remained, bone tired, belly to belly.
Michael looked down upon her passionate cunt. The black curls were covered with light foam, the rose- colored lips peeked through and smiled at him. Julia pulled him back on top of her, kissing him passionately. Finally after all those many, many hours, they fell asleep, holding each other in a firm embrace.
But all good things have to come to an end, and this time it came in the form of old Jonathan. He had come back from his mission, and, knocking at the door of the studio, he had received no answer. He bent down to peek through the keyhole, murmuring, “Dammit, it must be great to be young and beautiful like those two there. Oh, well, I have had my time. Too bad it was so long ago.””
He shuffled to the kitchen to fix tea and food, knowing what Michael would want around five o'clock.
And that's what happened. At precisely that time the couple awakened by the ringing of the doorbell.
“It seems that Jonathan isn't back, yet,” Michael yawned. “I wonder who that could be?” And as he walked over to the window to peek through the curtains. He saw his tailor.
Jonathan meanwhile had opened the front door, telling the man that his Master was very busy in his studio and would he, the tailor, please make himself comfortable in the waiting room.
“It's the tailor, darling,” Michael said. “Do you still want to visit me in men's clothing?”
“Heavens no,” Julia said, throwing her arms around his neck. “I have come here as a woman, I have been treated as a woman, and I am very, very glad that I am a woman. I would die of shame if I had to sneak into your home dressed as a man.”
“I, too, don't think that I would really like the switch. It seemed the only way out this morning, but I am afraid that you would lose something in the transformation.”
“Why don't you send him away.”
“Go into my bedroom, and I will call Jonathan.” Julia quickly picked up her clothing and went into Michael's bedroom.
“Jonathan, I am sorry, but please send the tailor away. It was all a mistake. Tell him that he will have to come back next week, and that I need a travel costume. But today I unfortunately cannot give him any of my time.”
Jonathan grumbled something which Michael could not quite understand and then he said more clearly, “I am sorry, Sir, but I could not find that model.”
“Oh, she can go to hell,” Michael said airily.
“To hell,” the old servant thought when he went to tell the tailor about the new orders. “It seems that this latest love has really gotten to his heart. Well, let's face it, the sight of this beautiful woman makes me wish that I could not only get it up, but keep it there.”
“And prepare us something to eat,” Michael called after him.
“It will be ready when you are,” Jonathan answered.
But Michael did not hear him. He was fascinated by his Madcap who was washing herself, douching and combing her beautiful, long black hair. Julia, of course, had no idea that she was being watched and leisurely finished her toilet. Michael was so riled up that he would have pushed open the door, taken her in his arms and started all over again, were it not for the fact that Jonathan would soon be back in the studio with tea and
