Charlie kissed her, and felt her, and pressed his face languorously against her soft, hot cheeks, but beyond that he dared not go. He had fucked Maudie by the waterside, and it had been lovely-Maudie improved every time, and took more out of him every time, but what this day might bring about, and what might be expected of him he could only conjecture. He knew it would be pretty hot, and he felt he must keep fit.
Little Jeannie shuddered convulsively in his arms, and finally openly begged him to fuck her. He had only been in his shirt when he came in, and she lifted it right up to his breasts, looking lovingly and longingly at his cock.
'Darling, darling,' she implored, 'do, do fuck me. I shall be ill, horribly ill, if you don't. I know you've been at it already but can't you spare just a little bit for me, just a very quick one?'
'Dear girl,' answered the perplexed Charlie, wanting it, and yet wanting not to want it, 'I have been at it, and I want you again, you know I do'-it was obvious, his cock was gun-barrel stiff-'but I shall kill myself if l go on like this.'
She dropped on her knees before him, and snatched a kiss on the glans. That settled Charlie. It had to be.
'Very well, you little devil,' he said, 'I give in, but it's got to be a very wicked one. Run quick, and fetch Luigi.'
Luigi came, rather wondering-eyed, and very picturesque in the Sicilian peasant's costume which he always wore now. Charlie banged the door and locked it: this was to be entirely a seance a trois.
His eyes gleamed in a way which rather frightened Jeannie, and as he took a birch made of dried seaweed from a cupboard, she began to be scared.
'You've got to go through it,' he said, roughly. 'Luigi, undress her and beat her.'
It did seem a shame, when that ravishing body was all naked, that scarlet lines must be traced across the pretty olive skin, but Charlie felt like that. He was half genuinely angry that the girl should have tempted him, and half lustfully cruel. It was going to be sadism and blunt, brutal wish to punish combined.
'You, too, Luigi, get yourself stark.'
The boy obeyed.
They made a handsome couple, and Charlie's lust was for a moment overcome by his artistic sense.
He took a hand camera, found a position for it on the top of the commode stand, and posed the two. It was difficult to avoid the boy's very rigid cockstand, but clever draping did this, and with a plain grey screen behind them, they were naked shepherd and shepherdess to the life, and the shutter clicked.
His artistic thoughts had tamed his lust for the moment: his member was no longer rampant, and he was thinking more of breakfast than fucking-but then the timid bending of the pretty girl over the bed, her bottom raised, shiveringly expectant of the stroke, fired him again.
'Give her five, Luigi, quick,' he cried.
The boy, savage-eyed also now, flicked the stinging twigs with a sharp twist of the wrist over the girl's flesh. Twice, thrice, he struck, and at the fourth blow the blood came.
'That'll do,' cried Charlie; 'come here, Luigi, and suck me.'
Poor Jeannie stared aghast-was she to have nothing then?
This was sadism with a vengeance, and Charlie revelled in it as he saw the girl's pitiful eyes, while he felt the warm embrace of the boy's lips on his penis.
He spent very quickly, but he hardly felt any actual sensual pleasure. His delight was in watching the girl's pain. Her skin must be smarting badly now, he knew, from the after-sting of the blows'-but more than that, what must she be suffering from the lust she felt, and the sight of its object being stolen from her by another? 'Keep it in,' he ordered, and he filled the boy's mouth with the hot juice, 'close your teeth on it. Now, Jeannie, kiss him, and drink my love juice from him.'
The girl did. She kissed the handsome boy with a long tenacious kiss, and she sucked all the sperm from his mouth, her eyes longingly and expectantly fixed on Charlie all the time.
Finished, she threw back her head with a jerk and gulped it. 'There,' she cried, 'my health to you.'
'Well, you've had what you wanted, my spunk in you. You can't say I haven't given you my fluid of life. Now you can dress yourself and go. Luigi, stop here and shave me.'
There was an evil glint in the girl's eyes, but she said no word and dressed hastily. Charlie did not even turn his head to look at her as she left the room.
Outside she cursed him deeply and bitterly and long. What should be her revenge she could not quite decide.
The sports were to be early. They didn't want any unexpected visitors from town, and the company was strictly limited to the people we have met already-with one exception.
A strange young man with an engaging manner managed somehow to get into the grounds and recalled himself to Tubby as an old school friend. Tubby had only a hazy recollection, but the man was so nice and seemed such a sport, and seemed to know so many people Tubby knew; Tubby was flustered and hadn't the heart to turn him out.
Maudie's lawn, as we have before met it, ran down to the river, and was fairly visible to passing water traffic, but there was a portion, a long green alley between great trees, which was completely shut off from any possibility of observation. It was admirably suited for the great race.
First came a pretty flapper race. The girls had to run fifty yards, undress fully and race back. It was won very easily by the Titian-haired nymph whose Venusberg had been preserved intact. She led at the turn, her clothes came of her in a trice and she raced back laughing, her red locks floating behind her.
There was a bicycle handicap for the boys and the flappers, all nude-it is surprising how sexy a naked girl looks on the saddle of a bicycle-and a match between May and Elsie. They had to run twenty-five yards, toss off the two menservants-a judge was present to see it properly done-and run back. Elsie won easily.
Then came the event: the contest for the flower of Toinette.
It was nicely stage-managed.
In a great china bowl, full of heavy-scented dried rose petals, sat Toinette, fully dressed, in a dead black costume relieved only by a silver belt, silver garters below the knees and a silver collar. In her hand she held a laurel wreath. Her hair was straightly and severely brushed, and for ornament she wore only a silver butterfly, streaked with creme de menthe green.
Quite close to her was the young man who had introduced himself as Tubby's friend. He had a camera in his hand.
One hundred yards away the runners waited. All, even the general, wore proper running clothes-a hasty motel expedition to Windsor had secured them.
From the start the general made the pace hot. He had put half a bottle of Martell Three Star down him, and reckoned that would just carry him through. Tubby panted in his rear; the poet galloped rather than ran; the two strangers were quickly outclassed; and Phil and Charlie were closing with the leaders.
With ten yards to go, Tubby had the general beat, but he could almost feel Charlie's breath on his shoulders. A superhuman effort flung him across the tape, a bare foot ahead of Charlie, the general beating Phil for place money by inches.
Tubby's friend clicked his camera shutter once more, grinned, and went.
Outside the gates he met a friend with a low-slung racing car.
'Well?' said the friend, as the photographer climbed in.
'First stop, Carmelite House, and you can put the Agapemone scoop inside this.'
Whilst the general was being violently ill among the trees, Tubby carried his little black and silver trophy, all vibrant with emotion-she had prayed for Charlie's victory-back to the pavilion.
There was a throne for her there, a black velvet dais, and there she sat while Maudie presented her with?1,750 in a plain oaken casket, with the name Toinette set in opals fringed with diamonds.
It was up to Tubby. He had 'doped' himself before the race, and helped himself very considerably to Martell and Mumm afterwards.
Toinette was his. After the ceremony of health drinking, she slipped her little black-gloved hand through his arm, and smiled up at him. He waggled as he walked back to the house with her. She made no pause, but led him straight to her bedroom.
Tubby walked rather sheepishly and vacuously to the window. He heard the girl click the key in the lock.
She turned on him with a radiant smile-she was sorrowful at heart that it had not been Charlie, but at any rate
