host's wife whose ripened beauty was dressed in becoming clothes, and a young girl, Miss de la Grise whose sparkling eyes contradicted her virginal smile.
Choisy, or rather the countess of Barres was the butt of a thousand more or less indiscreet questions.
— So you are a widow-so young.
— I married when I was fifteen, was Choisy's barefaced lie and pat answer.
— And you have no intention of getting married again?
Choisy looked at the questioner. He was a plump rube, who looked the type certainly more able to seduce a scullery maid than a lady but who seemed very conceited into the bargain.
— My first and only experience has made me circumspect, the countess answered, gravely.
Choisy went on answering questions, always wittily. They asked him about fashion and beauty secrets, among other things, but, even on that strictly feminine subject, Choisy was never at a loss for an answer.
— Have you travelled a lot? the bailiff's wife asked.
— Too much, the countess answered, that is why I am so keen on settling here among you.
That compliment flattered everybody. Meanwhile, Choisy had noticed that Miss de la Grise had asked him no question, yet her features betrayed great interest in the goings-on.
When Choisy deemed the time ripe for her to bow out gracefully, in order to leave the guests still a little hungry for details on his private life, he had accomplished a miracle, for one and all enthused about him:
— Isn't she nice?
As for Choisy, he was not so enthusiastic. True, he was comparatively safe in this little town of the county Berri, but the inhabitants would be funny at first, then would quickly bore him stiff.
What he wanted was a good warm cunt into which to bury his itching prick.
The bailiff's wife was a possibility, but, although she looked sensual enough, she looked the type to stay faithful to the same man, and, in small towns scandal spreads fast.
There remained Miss de la Grise. Yes, she was a choice morsel and the problem of how to seduce her presented just the right amount of risks to make the adventure worth while. He wondered how he would go about it. He would need a lot of patience. It was different in Venice, where nearly all women were already prepared physically and morally for love. Yes, Venice was really the capital of love. But here, Choisy would have to plan hard to conquer that young country lady.
It was hard for Choisy to remain continent, but he had to be careful, or else he would reveal his true personality and it would be all over the town. He had to remain in everybody's eyes the countess of Barres.
But, after a time, he found a temporary solution in the person of Lisette.
She was a young girl, married to an apprentice miller, and native of the town. She had been engaged by Bouju to help with the housekeeping. So, she became the personal maid of the countess of Barres, alias Choisy. He was careful and cleverly hid his identity from her for a pretty long time. He let her attend to his coiffure and other details of his dressing, but, before taking his bath, he sent her away, so that she did not discover that he was in reality a man.
But there was no denying that her presence made Choisy more and more hungry for love as the days went by. Lisette was quite an exciting sight, with a simple but attractive skirt and white apron which offset her beauty, and the two orbs of her breast that showed above a country blouse with open neck-line. And when, in the proceedings of his toilet, manicuring, etc., she touched him, he had to use all his self-control not to reveal that he was in reality a male.
One morning, Lisette came upon a pair of falsies in a chest of drawers. She was surprised, but deduced that the countess of Barres had small breasts and wore falsies out of coquettishness.
Then, another morning, she discovered the truth quite by chance. Choisy, that morning, was sleeping more soundly than usual, and Lisette had knocked on his door more softly than usual and, when she entered, she saw the countess of Barres half naked on her bed, and between her thighs there protruded something that she had never seen a woman have, something that her husband fucked her with. Choisy, too late, drew the bed-sheets up to cover his nudity. Lisette exclaimed, joining her hands:
— Oh! madam!
— Forget what you saw and you shall be rewarded, Choisy told her.
Lisette, her eyes wide open with surprise, assented but naively observed:
— What do you use it for?
— For nothing at the moment, beautiful, Choisy retorted, and it's a pity.
— It is, indeed, Lisette answered with conviction.
To hide her confusion, she turned her back or Choisy.
It took him only a moment to make up his mind. From behind, he put his arms around her and seized her nipples between his fingers.
— Oh but, madam! she said, arching her body.
— Between ourselves and the door-post you can call me “Sir,” Choisy said.
That put an end to the few scruples Lisette had left. When Choisy judged that she had been prepared enough, he tossed her on the bed and there, she readily opened up her legs and let the big wolf go in. Lisette enjoyed this unexpected situation and she was both sensual and curious to see how a “countess” made love. She was not disappointed (no woman ever was with Choisy).
Like most country girls, Lisette had a strong healthy smell, which excited Choisy's senses. That, and his long continence, made him more amorous than at almost any time in the past.
Oh, how good it was to kiss and suck her lovely breasts! Lisette remained perhaps a little too passive, but then it was the first time and she was intimidated. Anyway, Choisy liked his women to enjoy what he did to them, and did not particularly mind what they did to him.
She had lovely black hair and, as he caressed it, she looked up at him with wet eyes, and her lips were ruddy and half open, so he crushed them with his hungry mouth and they rolled on the bed in a fiercely sensual embrace.
Her buttocks were firm and not specially well washed. Choisy provided to that deficiency with his tongue, and did a very good job of it, concentrating his cleaning on the hairy fissure in between the two orbs. But then he afterwards sullied it all again with his prick.
When their love bout was over, he told her to go and prepare his bath as now, he added, he had nothing more to hide from her.
A gold ducat bought her silence. But Lisette was not eager to speak about her experience, for she was keen to have further intercourse with this wonderful mistress and she naturally did not want her husband to know about it.
In the bath-room they played at washing each other and he had her again on the bidet (French for bird- bath).
— Your breasts are heavier than mine, he said, laughing.
— That's not very difficult, she smiled, and kissed him greedily.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Choisy decided that, to conquer Miss de la Grise, he would need Lisette's complicity and help, and, being a good psychologist, he guessed that she would make no objection.
— How old is she? he asked Lisette.
— Sixteen, I think.
— And has she any marriage plans?
Lisette had a mischievous smile which suited her personality of pert but attractive hussy.
— There is some talk about a marriage with — With whom? asked Choisy negligently.
— Never mind, Miss de la Grise does not seem too keen on getting engaged to him.
— Then I gather he is not very handsome, said Choisy.
Lisette laughed and started unbuttoning Choisy's fly.
— You would not want him for a man, would you, for instance? he asked. — Not for my weight in gold,
