Soon, he found the protruding button of her clitoris under his tongue, and he started working on it, and, from time to time, he licked up the warm juice that was oozing from the opening just underneath.
She had grasped his hands and guided them towards her breasts-she was a very voluptuous woman and she had at last found a lover worthy of her, and was determined to get the best out of him. He obediently did what she prompted him to do, that is to pinch her teats while he was sucking her off.
Soon she was moaning with delight and she thrust her twat against his body so hard that he had difficulty in breathing. He felt a bit as if he was her prey, or her slave, and he thought that he felt the same with every experienced and passionate woman, but he did not mind it at all and he gave her all she wanted with the eagerness to please the opposite sex that had made his reputation of one of the best lovers of his time, one that no woman was ever likely to forget once she had known him.
Under the busy working of his tongue, the marchioness had come two or three times. Then, Choisy, who had felt his virility coming back and raring to go, timed it perfectly and pushed his rod into the warm juicy scabbard. The sensation was exquisite and they both grunted with infinite pleasure together. A few thrusts, and they both came, and he thought he had never felt so much pleasure, although perhaps, to be honest, he had often had the same thought before. But he was at least sincere in admitting that he could not possibly ever feel more pleasure for if he did he could not bear it and would swoon with the shock of too much happiness.
For a long time, the marchioness lay there, with her eyes shut, breathing hard, basking in the wonderful happiness of her contented senses, with all fibres of her body still aquiver but beginning to calm down into a delicious feeling of contentedness.
When she opened her eyes, she saw that Choisy had already readjusted his clothing and was appearing decent before her. She beheld her own disarrayed clothes and felt a sense of shame. Like the gentleman he was, Choisy turned round while she put on her skirt and fastened on her bodice.
He could now contemplate her, and how changed she was! Before, she was pale and dignified. Now, she was only a woman in the full sense of the term. She radiated happiness and contentment from every pore of her body shining with warmth, and her eyes were looking at him lovingly and gratefully.
— What are you going to think of Venetian women? she asked with belated modesty.
— I have always thought well of them, and now more than ever.
— And they are discussing about your sex, wondering which it is! exclaimed the marchioness, in an amused tone, mixed with sensual gratitude.
— Now you know, my dear marchioness, but please don't shout it on the roof-tops!
— What interest would I have to do such a silly thing?
— Indeed, it would compromise you. Better keep mum and let them all continue to wonder about my case.
— That might induce other women to do as I did and satisfy their curiosity, she said with a note of fear and jealousy in her voice.
— Dear me! exclaimed Choisy, amused, am I to be “Raped” by all the women who want to satisfy their curiosity about me?
— That is the consequence of the enigma you are setting them, my dear.
So saying, the marchioness had put on her mask again, ready to leave, but just before she adjusted her mask, Choisy managed to steal a last kiss, which was warm, tender, and lasted a long time.
– I think, after all, he said that I had better pass off as a woman-for I would then have more freedom to make love without danger.
And he thought of the stratagem he had used to deceive the vigilance of the rich merchant of Murano by disguising himself as a woman.
— Are you sure you would incur no danger? she asked, smiling, and what about the risk of men pursuing you, thinking you are a real woman?
— I can take care of that! he said, let's hope that now you know the way to my house, you will — We shall have to make an arrangement, she broke in, good bye, my dear!
And she left him, as anonymously as she had come in.
Alone, he meditated upon her last sentence. What did she mean by making an arrangement? Did she mean that she would ensure that she would have the exclusivity of his love? Yet, he felt capable of contenting both the brunette Francesca and this marchioness who was a perfect living example of the famous blonde Venetian beauties. But he would have to be cautious, for now that the marchioness knew about his affairs with Francesca, she would probably be jealous, and everything was possible in Venice, the city of intrigues.
Yes, he reflected, Venice was really living up to its reputation of the capital of love. And he felt a voluptuous contentment in realizing it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
So Choisy continued to flit about from one Venice palace to another, arousing curiosity everywhere he went, and Francesca and Flavia de Rubo congratulated themselves on having such an ingenious and untiring lover. And they were pleased about their affairs being kept secret. The rich merchant of Verano did not suspect the night revelries of his mistress, and the marquess of Rubo still thought his wife was a model of virtue, and if some gossiper had told them the truth they would not have believed him. Nor would Choisy have ever been found out but for the marchioness's sudden sexual frenzy which induced her to spy on him.
Choisy was a lucky man indeed, and he knew it, for he had two mistresses, the brunette Francesca and the blonde Flavia, which varied his fare of love. Francesca was quite an expert in love-making. Should Choisy have experienced a sexual weakness, she would have known the way to arouse. She would have put on her best perfume and her most alluring clothes, she would have wiggled her hips just a little while walking and she would have held herself erect, with her stomach drawn in and her bust thrust prominently forward, and she would have worn her most audacious decollete, or else the likewise exciting opposite consisting of a blouse buttoned primly up to her neck but setting off to perfection the voluptuous curves of her bosom, also, she knew the fine art of caresses, and not necessarily the direct ones, but also those fleeting ones that make a man want more. But she never had to resort to any of those devices to arose Choisy's desire, for he was ever ripe-ready for her whenever he visited her and whatever her sexual greed was.
Nor had Flavia any complaint about her lover. Every time she managed to escape from her palace and join Choisy at his hotel she spent with him an hour or two and behaved like a bitch in heat. She did everything to him and wanted everything done to her, and, at the end, sighing contentedly she boasted to herself that if ever Choisy wanted to deceive her he would have no means to do so, for she had emptied him of all his virility. Or so of course she thought. For in reality there was always enough left in him, and he knew ways and means of making a woman come many times and yet be sparing in his own efforts. He did not behave like a young stripling too generous with his sap, but rather like a connoisseur who knew how to enjoy keeping in his energy and giving it away at the opportune moment. And so, quite often, only an hour or so after having enjoyed an amorous hour with Flavia, Choisy went to Francesca and experienced no weakness whatever. So, thanks to his ability and cleverness, Choisy managed to make his two mistresses believe firmly that he belonged exclusively to one woman alone.
To crown this charming imposture and place a convenient red-herring across the track, Choisy paid an assiduous court to Charlotte de Ransac, so that she herself and everyone else around her believed him in lover with her. She believed that Choisy had been unsuccessful in finding a mistress to his taste, so had come back to wooing her in the hope of winning her heart one day. Such is the vanity of women. Mrs. de Ransac firmly believed she was better than all the others and her conceit made her blind to the truth. So she savoured her would-be victory and took pleasure in arousing Choisy's desire by more or less openly flirting with him, which was playing into the hands of the marchioness, thus being covered up most conveniently and sheltered from any suspicion befalling her.
As for Mr. de Ransac himself, he smiled condescendingly at his wife's encouragements to Choisy, as he thought she was only playing with him. He could never seriously entertain the idea that Choisy might ever become his wife's lover, for was not Choisy openly an accomplice of the king's brother's antics of doubtful taste. In other words, Mr. de Ransac was among those people who firmly believed Choisy to be a homosexual because of his
