visual aphrodisiac.
Into the ample pockets of my brocade jacket these more or less credulous victims of my enticements and beguilings poured their silver, eagerly taking advantage of such opportunities as I permitted them to fondle me tentatively or superficially, bought my cigars and cigarettes, tipped me generously for every trifling service, sighed, and generally visited a bedroom with one of my companions where, doubtless, evoking visions of my naked legs and other presumed charms, they ravished me by proxy.
Of the patrons I subsequently served in a more intimate fashion, five developed into “steadies,” that is, became exclusively mine, and came with more or less regularity. A sixth, no other than the gentlemanly Mr. Hayden, kept his promise to Hester and either by virtue of genuine affection for her or actuated by a kindly sentiment to avoid wounded feelings, insisted upon having both of us with him at the same time and maintained an attitude of strict impartiality.
I think Hester's generous spirit would not have resented a surrender of her priority to me, but though Mr. Hayden was one of the nicest men I ever met, I was glad that his instincts of gallantry saved me from being placed in the light of having distracted his attention from one who was beyond doubt my best and sincerest friend. I have never found another such.
Patrons like Mr. Hayden, unfortunately always in a minority, were the bright and redeeming features of a life otherwise vicious and degrading. They were the ones who, regardless of a girl's lost social status, always treated her with respectful consideration. Generous in recompensing the efforts which were made to please them, they never exacted arduous or debasing services, nor were they addicted to unnatural vices which went beyond the pale of those sexual practices ordinarily considered acceptable and legitimate.
To my lot fell the patronage of a Mr. Heeley, a gentleman of this desirable category though with the minor disadvantage of being much older and less attractive physically than Mr. Hayden. There was a Mr. Thomas, middle-aged and wealthy, who had garnered his fortune in Ceylon and who always had some interesting story to tell. There was Mr. Castle and Mr. Wainwright, both of whom were addicted to eccentricities of a peculiar and disagreeable nature. At first I protested to Madame Lafronde that these two gentlemen were personages non grata with me and insinuated that I would not be loathe to dispense with their attentions. It was unequivocally impressed upon me that my inclinations were quite secondary to those of wealthy patrons. “Do whatever they want within the limits of endurance. Satisfy their whims, fancies, even their aberrations if possible as long as they are willing to pay accordingly. Humor them, please them, get the money and keep them coming back as long as you can!” This was the unwritten law in the world of prostitution.
Mr. Hayden was, I think, about thirty years old. I could easily have become really infatuated with this pleasant-spoken, educated, and cultured gentleman. We never knew exactly who he was with reference to his place in the outside world, nor even indeed that his name was really Hayden, for it was not unusual that gentlemen frequenting such places of entertainment as that provided by Madame Lafronde prudently concealed their identities under fictitious names. Nevertheless, there was no doubt that he was of the real gentility.
I liked him very much and I think the affection was reciprocated to an even greater extent than was ever manifested, but he was of that conscientious, kindhearted type, disposed to go out of the way even at personal inconvenience to avoid causing pain to others and he knew that Hester adored him.
To Mr. Hayden fell the honor, if such it might be styled, of initiating me into the real service of which I was now a recruit. My absence from the salon accounted for the numerous inquiries with the old alibi “a bad time of the month, don't you know.” Hester and I and Mr. Hayden enjoyed a little dinner by ourselves and thereafter repaired to Hester's room, where we disported ourselves lightheartedly for an hour, romping and tumbling over the bed in good-natured abandon as the wine we had imbibed warmed our blood and attuned our receptive senses to lecherous ideas.
Mr. Hayden was a healthy, vigorous young man, a splendid example of physical perfection. The sight of his clean-cut, well-kept body, and the magnificently rigid and well-formed member which was disclosed when he undressed sent the blood surging through my veins. I did not know by what procedure he intended to make use of two women at the same time, but imagined that he would probably take us in turn, maybe changing from one to the other at intervals.
I waited expectantly for Hester to take the initiative. Inside, I was fairly burning up. Though I had bathed most carefully but a short while before, my cunny was wet with anticipation, my clitoris swollen and pulsing. In excuse of this ardor was the fact that I had not been with a man for three long years and during this sterile period there had been no outlet for my passions except the one provided by my own nimble fingers, an occasional wet dream and, as I have related, the orgasm effected by Hester's so-called massage.
We lay down on the bed on either side of our male companion, Hester and I both naked except for our slips, hose and shoes, which we intended to leave on until done with our play and ready for sleep. Mr. Hayden caressed us impartially for awhile, passing his hands over our breasts, fingering the nipples until they stood up stiffly, and finally a hand drifted down over each of the two cunnies. The contact of his warm hand as it lay over mine with one of the fingers pressed lightly within the cleft produced in me an effect which was almost sufficient to put my orgiastic mechanism into immediate action. I literally had to “clench” my nerves and strain my willpower to keep from coming. Had he let his finger linger there a bit longer, or had he imparted the slightest friction, my efforts to restrain orgasm would have failed then and there.
But he removed it after a short interval without apparently having observed my delicate condition, and straightening out on his back he drew Hester across his body where, by urging her forward bit by bit, he eventually got her straddled across his chest with her knees doubled beneath her on either side of him. Her dark auburn curls were right at his chin and it required no great imagination to divine that her cunny was going to be licked French fashion.
“If he does that to her before my eyes I'll cream despite anything I can do to hold it back. I know I shall!” I thought to myself.
In the light of experience throughout subsequent years I confess this: that the sight of another woman being Frenched by a man, or a woman Frenching a man, reacts upon me more violently than any other spectacle of a lewd nature. My senses are excited to a frenzy at the sight of this act, and if I let myself go I can have an orgasm without even touching myself, but simply through the impulse conveyed to the genital system through the trajectory of the eye.
Having accommodated Hester comfortably on his strong chest, Mr. Hayden reached over and took me by the arm, manifesting by his motions that I was to seat myself across his middle, impaled upon the turgid emblem of masculinity, behind Hester. Obeying his wordless indications I crouched over him, passing my arm around Hester and clasping her plump bubbies in my hand. Then, gently, breathlessly, I sank down until I felt the entire length of that glorious member throbbing within the living sheath I was providing for it.
But, alas, to my consternation, barely had I perceived the contact of his crisp hair on my naked cunny than my emotions, overriding all powers of resistance, as though deriding my futile efforts to hold them in abeyance, rebelling incontinently, loosed themselves and in a second I was gasping, writhing and suspiring in a regular paroxysm of passionate ecstasy.
As the reverberations gradually died away and my thoughts took on a semblance of coherency, I was filled with mortification. What would Mr. Hayden think of such amazing lubricity and precipitation? Hester, surprised at first, had twisted around, and now burst into laughter.
“What happened?” she gasped.
“I don't know!! I did it… I couldn't help it!” I answered, shamefaced.
Mr. Hayden was also laughing.
“You're a fast worker, Sister,” he said, his sides shaking, and realizing that I was momentarily, at least, exhausted by the orgasm, he added compassionately: “Better get off and rest a moment while Hester and I catch up with you!”
I discharged myself and threw my still trembling body on the bed beside them. With his hands against Hester's knees Mr. Hayden pushed her backward to take the place I had vacated and a moment later his cock slid in between her legs. Crouching over him, supporting herself on her hands, Hester worked gently up and down on the glistening shaft, alternating from time to time with a twisting, rolling movement of her hips as she sank down upon his member, completely hiding it from view.
As I watched this sensuous play the tide of my own passions began to gather anew. Yielding to sudden impulse I inserted my hand between Hester's thigh and got my fingers around the base of the white column which
