damage. Had the poor, deprived driver never seen a pretty girl's bare-cheeked arse before?
Attention drawn back to the growing need between my legs, I took a sharp intake of breath as Justine's wriggling toes in their silky stocking found my erect clitoris, rubbing and massaging in such an expert manner that I felt my orgasm rapidly approaching.
Sucking lustily on Justine's warm, naked tits and wriggling my bare bum in the cool air of the carriage, I felt my wet cunt shudder with a series of tiny contractions as my climax arrived. Justine reached her orgasm at the same time and the carriage was filled with the sweet sound of soft, feminine moans and sighs of satisfaction.
Silently now, I pulled up my damp, lacy panties and straightened my stockings and skirts before planting a lingering kiss on Justine's smiling lips.
'Let's consider that little bout as a kind of rehearsal,' she said after a moment or two, a sexy plan forming in her mind. 'I'm sure my boyfriend, Pierre, and his handsome friend would be only too delighted to watch us enjoying each other's company in such a manner. What do you say, Rosie? Do you think we should lay on a little entertainment for the dear boys?'
'I can think of nothing nicer than a spot of naughty theatricals,' I agreed. 'Especially if we include some of the Candide's fresh cream pastries as props, and even more especially if we invite our audience of two to join in the frolics after a while. It's quite astonishing where on one's body one manages to disperse dollops of cream when one's having fun!'
Giggling wickedly, we discussed our plans for the afternoon's entertainments as our carriage grew ever nearer to our destination.
After what seemed to us to be a lifetime of waiting (so anxious were we for the fun to begin!), our carriage finally entered the outskirts of the town. Peering out of the windows of the vehicle, wide-eyed like two little girls on their first foray into the grown-up world-which we most certainly were not!-we saw tall, gaunt, slab-sided warehouses, a grubby-looking railway siding and numerous mean-looking dwellings with washing hanging outside and smoke curling from the chimneys.
Men, women and children thronged the streets, laughing, arguing and calling out to each other as they went about their daily business. A cheeky-faced young boy on a coster-monger's bicycle which seemed to be several sizes too large for him, caught sight of the two of us in our carriage like a couple of prim china dolls and grinned widely, removed both hands from the handlebars in a lewd gesture, then favoured us with a loud wolf-whistle before continuing on his brazen way.
Justine and I exchanged glances of indignation before breaking into amused smiles and eagerly returning our attention to the hurly-burly world outside our carriage window.
A swarthy, bewhiskered young man operating a barrel organ, on top of which danced a small, chattering monkey dressed in a suit of miniature clothes, stood on a street corner. Leaning back in a lazy, leisurely manner against his music machine, he was slowly inhaling the smoke from his long clay pipe whilst gazing with heavy lids at his companion-an exotic street girl with heavy, garish make-up and big, melon-like breasts which shook and wobbled as she moved.
She was engaged in loud and animated conversation with the man, eyes rolling and expressive painted lips moving nineteen to the dozen when all of a sudden, anecdote at an end, she slapped her thigh and erupted in a gale of sidesplitting laughter.
As we passed the colourful pair the man caught sight of us, winking and gesturing to the young whore, who turned and faced us before raising her gaudy skirts between thumbs and forefingers of both hands and dropping down in an exaggerated, mocking curtsey, facial expression fixed in an attitude of imperious dignity, made all the more ridiculous by her clown-like, painted features.
Favouring her with warm smiles to show we appreciated her little joke and were not in the least offended, the saucy young wench grinned and blew us a theatrical kiss before turning her back to us and, quick as a flash, raising her skirts to above her waist, bending over and wriggling her voluptuous, bare arse at us.
Speechless and red-cheeked with shock and embarrassment we fell back into the gloom of the carriage and pressed our heads against the seat-backs for fear that the cheeky young strumpet would see our discomfiture and exact still further revenge for what I could now see was our over-privileged, patronising manner towards her.
As we rumbled into the more salubrious, central part of town our pinched embarrassment faded and turned into beatific pleasure as we contemplated our plans for the afternoon.
Rounding a corner into one of the main streets, Justine recognised our destination, l'Hotel Candide, about halfway down on the right hand side. Gesturing to Gruber to stop the carriage by rapping smartly on the roof with her knuckles, we both set about the task of straightening our gowns, checking our appearance in the useful little mirror set just above my seat in the padded interior fabric of the vehicle, and prepared to alight.
Gruber drew the carriage to a halt a hundred yards or so away from our destination, lumbered down from his drivers' seat and ambled round to help us climb down to the pavement. Opening the carriage door he took each of our hands in turn and, eyes gleaming lasciviously, was rather too solicitous, I thought, in aiding our descent. When it was Justine's turn to alight she gave him a merry little wink and displayed for his benefit several inches of shapely, stockinged ankle and calf-an unnecessary expedient, I thought, since the poor man was already damp with perspiration and quite flushed with fresh excitement.
Before setting off towards the hotel Justine blew the unfortunate Gruber, who was by now putty in her naughty hands, a pretty little kiss and made him promise to meet us in the same place in three hours.
Amid much spluttering and coughing Gruber agreed to her request and climbed back on to his drivers' seat, rather painfully I fancied since his erection was the size and shape of a small Howitzer, before hurtling off down the street in the direction of his innocently unsuspecting mistress.
I hope she's ready for him, I thought with a grin. If the poor man doesn't spunk inside a warm cunt within the space of five minutes I swear his balls will explode with the buildup of pressure from within!
We entered l'Hotel Candide through a pair of heavy swing-doors fashioned from smooth, glowing mahogany and thick panes of crystal glass, and found ourselves in a totally different world from the one we'd left outside. A world of silent, deep-piled carpets, subdued lighting, polished wood, fresh flowers, hushed voices and the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Glancing around I noticed a small, elegant desk behind which sat an efficient-looking young lady with a striped blouse, spectacles and a rather prim, severe-looking hairstyle. She was peering at us over the top of her glasses in rather a pointed manner.
'That must be the receptionist,' I hissed. 'Come on, Justine, you'd better explain what we're here for… On the other hand,' I giggled, immediately visualising the likely furore cased by a true revelation of our intent, 'perhaps your explanation had better be a little less inflammatory!'
Clearing her throat and linking her arm in mine, she marched purposefully with me to the receptionist's exceptionally tidy desk and, chin held high in the manner of one who is used to being obeyed, began to speak.
'Bonjour, Mademoiselle,' she said in clear, even tones.
'Bonjour, Ma… Mademoiselle,' replied the slightly discomfited receptionist after first scanning Justine's hand for signs of a wedding ring. 'How can I help you?'
'My sister and I have arranged to meet my brother and his friend here this afternoon for coffee. Messieurs Renoir et DeClerc. I believe they are staying at l'Hotel Candide, non?”
'Mais oui, Mademoiselle. The two gentlemen to whom you refer left the hotel ten minutes ago in order to go for a little stroll in the park. Monsieur DeClerc assured me they would return within half an hour. Indeed, the gentleman did mention something about being sorely in need of a cup of strong coffee and one of our pastries.' Glancing around her to make sure no one was listening, she whispered, 'I've heard tell that one of them was fortunate enough to make a killing at the Roulette wheel yesterday evening, and they both spent the rest of the night at La Moulin Rouge, spending it!' She giggled irreverently until, embarrassed by her little outburst, she bit her lip, eyes downcast, and continued.
'Would you be willing to wait in the salon until they return? It is just at the end of that corridor over there. I will be sure to tell them you are here, waiting for them, when they return from their walk…'
'Merci, Mademoiselle. We will wait for them in the salon.'
As we left the desk, the young lady's expression softened a little and her mouth curved into a wistful little smile. She gave a small sigh and, with an absent look, followed or progress towards our place d'assignation.
In those few seconds I realised that she couldn't be any further advanced in years than Justine and myself.
