“How lovely. She's a lovely girl, isn't she? If there's a marriage, then I'll be your mother-in-law, won't I? Well, we aren't so many years apart you and I. I'm not an old woman yet. I can still appreciate a cannon like this. You do want it, don't you? Now that we've come this far? I suppose we ought to get on with it. Just a quick one, darling. It's terribly wrong, you know. Yielding to the Devil like this. Just a quick one.”
After which she suddenly bent over to suck my knob. No more than a brief sucking. Her tongue rolled over the tip. I was quite overwhelmed. Upon awakening, I hadn't thought much of the prospects for the day. Now here was Madame Fontan busily sucking my root. She worked her sensuous mouth over the knob and stem. She fondled my balls. My flesh soon glistened with her saliva. She sucked lavishly. What a remarkable woman she was.
She finally pulled her mouth away from my organ and smiled at me. “Are you shocked, Edward?”
“I'm vanquished.”
She laughed as her fingers played with my erection. “I like sucking a nice one like this.”
When I begged her to show me her breasts, she laughed again and agreed. The dressing gown slipped from her shoulders and her heavy breasts were revealed. Full-blown. Each lovely gourd capped by a dark nipple. I took a breast in each hand. I toyed with them. I lifted her breasts and pressed them together. I caressed her thick nipples with my fingertips. Odette murmured and moved forward. She lifted her right breast with her hands and offered the nipple to my mouth. How delightful she was. I sucked her breasts one after the other until she complained I would make her swoon.
Finally she rose from the bed and removed her dressing gown. She stood naked before my eyes, heavy- breasted, her belly sloping, a thick forest of dark hair at the joining of her full thighs. She smiled at me and then lifted the breakfast tray to carry it to the dressing table. Her bottom was glorious, full and thrusting, a broad magnificent rump with a dimple above each buttock. What a divine creature she was. The mother of two grown daughters. A French beauty with flashing eyes and a face and body from one of Renoir's paintings.
I hurried to rid myself of my pajamas. I was anxious to make connection before I discovered I was in the midst of a dream, before she somehow vaporized in front of my eyes. But it was no dream. Odette smiled at me as I lay there waiting for her. She climbed onto the bed and kissed me. She fondled my swollen organ and gently squeezed my balls. Then she used her mouth again, briefly sucking my knob, wetting it completely with her saliva. After that she pulled away. She turned. Kneeling on the mattress, she bent over to completely expose her bottom. “In my rear, Edward.”
At first I misunderstood. I thought she was asking if I liked her bottom. I was overwhelmed by the sight of her full-lipped sex from behind. She was quite hairy, the dark hair growing beyond her sex and into the crack between her buttocks. My senses were inflamed by the intimate view.
Then I realized what she wanted. I was to fill the smaller orifice. The dark ring. Her bottom-hole. She said it was too dangerous in the other, place. She said in any case she had more liking for it in her bottom. She was quite matter-of-fact about it. She said my knob ought to be sufficiently lubricated by her saliva. If not I might try some of the fluid from her sex. She talked continually. I touched her sex, fingered it, probed between the lips. I did as she asked. I lubricated her bottom-hole with some of the liquor of her sex. Then I entered her. There was no difficulty at all, absolutely none. The road was obviously frequently travelled. She began moaning at once, moaning and shaking her hips like a wild woman. I was in a fever of excitement. I was ravished by her broad bottom. I stroked her hips as my organ pushed and pulled in her stretched rose. What a marvelous grip she had. Women without experience never have it. I was unable to go on. I wanted our connection to continue forever, but I was unable to go on. I spent a torrent in her bowels. She cooed and shuddered and cried out as I continued thrusting. A marvel. A total marvel of passion. I fell away from her with a final groan.
She came to hover over me. She smiled and kissed my lips. Then she donned her dressing gown and left the room.
As the door closed, I sat up on the bed in a daze. What did it all mean? I hadn't dreamt of an affair with Madame Fontan. What would happen now to the prospect of a marriage between myself and Claire?
The outcome was less catastrophic than I supposed. Things went on as before. My visit with the family continued. The allusions to a marriage to Claire continued. Madame Fontan behaved as if nothing had occurred between us. We had no further chance to be alone. Now I passed nearly all my time with Claire. We were usually chaperoned by Odette. I was struck by the irony of it. The memory of Madame Fontan kneeling on my bed constantly inflamed my mind.
I paid court to Claire. She seemed receptive. When I asked her to be my wife, she replied she would consider the matter. It was understood that her parents had already agreed.
After a few more days, I left Paris and the Fontan household. I returned to London, to an English life. I passed many hours wondering about the future. Then after a fortnight a letter from Claire arrived. She accepted my proposal of marriage and assured me of her affections. I returned to Paris with a ring for Claire and our engagement was formally announced.
Claire seemed happy. The engagement was to last no more than two months. I bought presents for the family. I insisted upon paying for Claire's trousseau myself. M. Fontan was grateful. He seemed satisfied that he'd succeeded in making a good match for his daughter. Claire would marry an English gentleman with a comfortable income.
And my own satisfaction? I think I was in something of a daze. During the engagement, I established myself in a small hotel near the Place Vendome. I thought of renewing my liaison with Madame Fontan, but she seemed to avoid any opportunity to be alone with me. I finally abandoned the idea. I concentrated on Claire. She seemed to bloom during the engagement. I realized how truly lovely she was. I was impatient to have her as my wife. The younger sister seemed envious of Claire. Claire said Julie was too young to understand anything.
Finally the day of the wedding arrived. We were married in a lovely church in Vincennes. The church was filled with the Fontan relatives and a score of my friends from London. Claire looked ravishing. I was amazed at how my life had changed as the result of a chance meeting in Madrid.
The ceremony ended. Outside the church I embraced my new mother-in-law. As Madame Fontan's bosom pressed against my chest, I recalled the view of her bottom and sex as she knelt on the bed in the guest room in the Fontan house. The image produced a violent erection. I struggled with the front of my trousers as I settled down beside Claire in the motor car that would take us to the railroad station. Claire smiled. She kissed my cheek and told me how happy she was.
Chapter Fourteen
So now we were man and wife. Or not man and wife. We'd had nothing but a few chaste kisses in the midst of a crowd of Fontan relatives. Mostly Fontan. Odette's family was not in abundance. I was a fool, I suppose, a man with a fevered brain. I had married Claire, but I knew more of Claire's mother than I did of Claire. I was dazed by my actions, by what I had done. Did I really want a marriage? What had begun as an entertainment had now resolved itself into something else.
We had a long, dreary journey to Biarritz. My intention was to have a month there before embarking by ship for London. On the train, Claire resisted any possibility to consummate our union. She permitted nothing more than kisses and fumbling caresses. She allowed me to stroke her breasts and thighs. He small breasts made her seem so fragile. I discovered her skin was incredibly smooth and it pleased me. As the countryside rolled by, I passed the idle hours thinking more and more about her body. The idle thinking soon progressed to an obsession. Producing an obsession is always so easy for me.
On occasion Claire had such cleverness in her eyes when I fondled her. Was she a demi-vierge? I couldn't help thinking of Odette. If the mother was passionate, surely the daughter would be also. I wondered about Claire's girlhood; I wondered about other men, admirers who had kissed and fondled her. I sat there wondering as the wheels of the train clicked beneath our feet.
Of course I wanted more from her than just a few caresses. She pleaded for my patience. I must wait. My desire mounted.
And then at other moments I would consider how pleasant it was to suddenly have a wife, to be part of the great horde of men with we. I had changed my identity. Now I was an Englishman with a wife. How ironic it was to be heading south with her. I had met her father in Madrid and ridden north with him. Now I rode south with his
