was doing it to me, though I pretended to be. And in the third place, as I have just related, it wasn't my first fuck, or my second either for that matter, even though he did make, me bleed a little because of his size.'
Carlota tossed off a pony of brandy while Monty and Zippy remained pensively silent.
'Now,' she observed, clasping her hands behind her head and leaning back in her chair, 'let's hear yours!'
'Mine,' I answered, 'parallels yours… I mean your true one… so closely that I would only have to reverse the ages of the participants, for I was the younger, by several years. Which reminds me of something I intended to ask you in view of your experience… can you get any juice out of a nine-year-old cock?'
'Gosh, I don't know,' confessed Carlota. 'It always seemed to be wet when it came out, but whether it was boy-juice or girl-juice I don't know because I was twelve years old at the time, the hair was beginning to grow on my cunny, and the juice might have been all mine. But don't fool yourself, a kid nine years old can have an orgasm, whether he squirts anything or not.'
At this moment a waiter, after knocking discreetly, opened the door to murmur apologetically that it was well past closing time. A hasty glance at the timepiece on the wall showed that it was indeed two o'clock in the morning.
We gathered up our effects and prepared to depart. Both Monty and Zippy were tipsy. Carlota walked in the peculiar fashion of one who is not quite sure of the footing, and I myself found when I stood up that I was far from steady on my feet, Monty's chauffeur, who was huddled up in his seat half-asleep, came to life, jumped out, opened the door for us, and stood patiently awaiting instructions.
For several minutes we stood there debating further exploits. For my part I was in favour of going directly to my room with Monty. My blood was heated and in my fevered, half-inebriated state I pictured several hours of delicious sexual abandon. But I was overruled by the others, who were still in an adventuresome mood. They wanted to go somewhere else to pass another hour or two before separating, and each had different ideas.
'Listen, everybody!' finally announced Monty with drunken determination. 'We'll go to my housh! I've got a nish, comfortable room where, everybody can relaxsh and enjoy themselves!'
'Oh, no, we can't do that!' I protested hastily. 'Your wife will have us thrown out!'
I could not have voiced a more ill-advised objection. Monty instantly became stubbornly resolute.
'Lishen!' he said with injured dignity, 'a mansh housh ish hish cashel!
When he wansh to entertain dish in hish cashel thash hish… hie… ina… inalienable right!'
Nobody could offer a valid contradiction to this time-honoured philosophy, and though the chauffeur looked startled when he received his instructions, we were soon on the way. Though even in my beclouded state I could not repress certain misgivings I lulled them with the thought that his wife would undoubtedly be asleep at this hour, and I would think up some pretext to get them to leave as quickly as possible.
But, alas, under the effects of the silver flask and other stimulants which were drawn forth from hidden recesses in the car, the warning sense of caution diminished and before long I hardly remembered where we were going and by the time we got there I was nearly as drunk as the rest and but dimly aware of the surroundings.
The next thing I knew we were within the beautiful room which Monty had modestly described as 'nish and comfortable.' The feel of rich, thick carpets was underfoot, and about Us every luxurious comfort and adornment which money could command. The soft night-light which was burning gave way to a brighter illumination as crystal chandeliers burst into life. In an immense open chimney firewood was laid to light, and in an instant this stately, beautiful room became the scene of riotous revelry.
Carlota and I flung ourselves upon gorgeous divans while Monty and Zippy divested themselves of their hats and top-coats and placed upon an inland table the several bottles, some full, some partially depleted, which they had carried up from the car.
A sleepy butler appeared unsolicited, and stood with gaping mouth in the doorway.
'Go 'way! Go on back to bed!' ordered Monty. 'Thish ish a private party, we don't want any intrushions!'
The man retired hastily.
There was an interlude during which events remained only in my mind in a nebulous blur. Here and there were incidents which stood out in relief, surviving the chaos of the night. Of course, it was inevitable under the circumstances that Carlota and I should be wheedled into disrobing, for no drunken orgy is complete until the women have exhibited themselves naked, and when the cataclysmic hour struck, she was down to her slippers, hose and a short undervest, while I, more circumspect, had removed only my panties.
Across the room where the shaded glow of a rose-tinted light fell softly on her naked thighs and pointed, cone-shaped breasts, her head on Zippy's lap, Carlota lay, alternately shrieking hysterically and moaning as he realized some occult operation between her legs with his finger.
Upon the velvet cushions of another divan an equally exotic scene was revealed. Cuddled in Monty's arms I rested my head languidly on his shoulder while he fingered and played with one of my bubbies which he had succeeded in exposing by the simple expedient of tearing open the front of my dress.
My own fingers were clutched around something stiff and round and hot which projected upward from his unbuttoned trousers. I slid the satiny skin slowly up and down, and each time the rosy head emerged from its shelter of flesh the rigid column jerked like a live thing. I squeezed it tighter, gripping it with all the strength of my fist, and still the spasmodic throb was strong enough to break my grasp as the plum-coloured head was forced through the tight ring formed by my thumb and index finger.
Each mighty convulsion awakened a corresponding throb in my own sexual organs, and an inordinate longing began to assail me. I wanted to feel that luscious, throbbing thing in my mouth, to run my tongue over its wet surface, to lick it and suck it until it burst.
What difference did it make that Carlota and Zippy were there? They were too immersed in their own pastimes to pay much attention to what I was doing. Very likely, too, they already knew I was a cocksucker, for Monty was very indiscreet with his talk when under the influence of liquor.
In another moment, doubtless, the luscious fruit for which I was panting would have been between my lips had it not been for an interruption.
That interruption was the quiet opening of the door which gave access to the beautiful but now disordered and bottle-strewn lounge. I was the only one directly facing the door and I was the first to perceive a new arrival.
I froze in rigid attention.
In the doorway, surveying us gravely and silently, stood a woman.
Inasmuch as this woman was the direct opposite of the mental picture I had formed of Monty's wife I did not for a moment or two even consider the possibility that it was she. I simply wondered who she was.
The woman who stood there regarding us with a calm, almost expressionless face was young, not much older than I, probably. An embroidered robe of rich, wine-coloured material was drawn about her and fastened with a loosely knotted, tasselled rope of silk. Under its lower hem, the lacy edge of a white garment, a nightgown, without doubt, peeked. She wore no hose, but on her feet were dainty, highheeled bedroom sandals.
She was superbly, radiantly beautiful, a blonde of perfect type whose skin was suggestive of peaches and cream, and whose loosely coiled hair glinted in the light like spun gold.
So silent had been her entry and so quietly did she stand that for several moments no one but myself was aware of her presence. Monty, his attention finally attracted by my tense attitude, turned his eyes in the direction I was looking. Zippy in turn glanced casually toward the door, and started abruptly. Carlota, facing the opposite direction was still moaning and suspiring audibly. Zippy shook her significantly and murmured a warning 'S-h-h-h!' She looked at him in surprise, and then turned her head to see what was holding his attention. When she saw, she sat up hastily, drawing her one diaphanous garment down over her hips as far as she could.
It must have been three-thirty or later. Monty was the first to break the silence.
'Wosh the idea of thish intrushion?' he demanded thickly.
For a long moment there was no answer from the immobile figure. She continued to regard us, coolly, unemotionally. Then:
'Take your disreputable associates out of this house immediately.'
The words were spoken in a quiet, dignified voice, low and musical, but firmly resolute.
By this time realization of the intruder's identity had dawned upon me and surprise gave way to a rapidly growing feeling of resentment and anger. In a confused, startled way, I comprehended that I had been cheated and
