mind, as you well know, are English. French girls are normally sent to establishments not unlike my own in Germany or elsewhere where the regimes are much stricter and their Mamas or other over-enquiring female relatives cannot too easily reach them. However, as to the subject of my private conversation with Jeannette and the consequences thereof, I must defer my news to next time, which I trust will not annoy you. I have so much to do!
Your loving Julie
12
Editor's Note: Caroline's reply to this was rendered almost immediately, intrigued as she no doubt was by the rather mysterious ending to Julie's letter. We therefore come to it immediately in order to proceed to the promised sequel from St. Germain-en-Laye.
Dearest darling Julie, Oh, how you left me nail-biting at wondering what the purpose of your conversation was with Jeannette! You naughty thing to leave me so much in the air!
Did you slip back again into bed with Dorothy upon concluding your last? “Miaow!” I hear you say, but for all I know the dear child has already been sufficiently well schooled to allow her return to the parental mansion- and what there? Oh, that I could be your Chief Assistant and know all-but perhaps that would rob your news of much of its dear charm and teasing. Anyway, to my own affairs here and those of Alison, about which you asked. How was I best to manage that?
Of course, I asked Sylvia, but she had not heard much from her friend, being embroiled in her own pleasures and so not seeking to be too enquiring. “I thought her dull,” she said disturbingly, “for she did not look herself. I have a birthday present for her, in fact, but have not time to take it.” Of course, I seized upon the opportunity and offered to present it to the young lady, nor I did not wish to appear otherwise intrusive, so to speak. Two days later I duly presented myself. Horace was fortunately gone about some business or other. His wife looked broody and I had little doubt of the reason for it, though as I later gathered she had resigned herself to his newfound foibles and Alison believes that she occasionally listens at the door when Alison is at the receiving end of Horace's big cock! Oh my goodness, what naughty things I always find myself writing to you!
Alison indeed appeared a little in the doldrums. Upon receiving Sylvia's present from my hands (and I giving her a flask of perfume, too), she brightened up. Sylvia had sent her an engaging and very frilly waist corset, perhaps as a signal of her own mode of dressing occasionally when she is being “attended to.” “You must try it on,” I said, “for you will look delicious in it.” As with all of us, she could not resist doing that and was soon to be seen, by me and in the privacy of her little boudoir, attired in the fetching garment, which of course leaves her bottom bared, the black lace hovering prettily above her cleft. “You see, it fits you perfectly,” said I, wishing to cheer her up. Attired otherwise only in her stockings and shoes, Alison pirouetted moodily before her mirror, which brought my hand inevitably to venture to taste the marbled contours of her most enticing bottom. “Oh, he will like it. If I wear it tonight I expect I shall get a double,” she replied in a sulky tone, though not moving her warm cheeks overmuch from my seeking palm. “A double? What is that?” I asked innocently, then put my hand to my mouth and laughed, for I saw the light. “You mean, he does it to you front and back?” I asked, at which she sighed and leaned against me, regarding her reflection with not too much misery. As I spoke, I playfully flipped up the fringe of lace in front and cupped her plump quim while my free hand continued to cup such as it could contain of her refulgent nether cheeks. “Yes, he does,” she said and stirred restlessly as my forefinger quested for her spot. “Do you not like it so?” I asked. Her shoulders slumped against my own, her face half-turned to me. I kissed her cheek and wormed my finger in her slit, making her wriggle. “He is too quick, and besides, I do not love him. If he puts it in my pussy first and comes, I do not always have a chance to do so and it frets at me,” she replied. Her voice began to slur and I knew I was exciting her. “Lie down and tell me,” I suggested, at which, with slow movements of our bodies, we sank together on her bed, her stockinged leg against my own. I need not, however, detail all our conversation. She murmured and muttered against my mouth while I made her come-and so abundantly that I knew her to be speaking the truth about her guardian. This, I know, will cause you to frown, for a girl must have her pleasure at all times, and indeed I have often heard you say that, to this end, males must be used by us. How true! Besides, Alison was in a romantic mood, and how better to be so than with another female and our tongues all licking about each others. “You are very hot for it,” I said and added, of course, “As I am, too.” “I know. Sylvia's Papa has also fucked me,” she said dreamily, which did not surprise me at all, for she is full of body and with such voluptuous curves for her age. Her well-furred cunny is a perfect purse of love, as well you know. You were wise to put her up to them as abruptly as you did, for she soon enough got the feeling of urging pricks. Having mollified her several times between her thighs, I disrobed, pushed back her legs and began to tongue her. Such a salty, musky taste she has as if of a girl perpetually on heat! She bucked and clamped my body with her legs to urge me on. In coming and spurting over my lapping tongue, she all but whinnied out her pleasure and ground her quim against my mouth. Very salty were our kisses afterwards! “You should have a younger man- one more understanding, and even more vigourous,” I said. To this she replied that she knew such a one, or one who might be, but that Horace did not let her venture near him. He evidently wishes to keep his harem of one intact! “Stuff and nonsense! Shall you be kept a prisoner? It cannot be so and shall not be, for I will speak to him,”
I told her. Of course she implored me not to. I nibbled at her stiff nipples, kissed and caressed her everywhere. She was soon in a different mood and became once more quite languorous, asking me how I would do such a thing. “Why, as to that I shall simply say that we are going out. I am your chaperone, am I not, if I so choose to be?
His lady will not obstruct you, that I know. She has good reason not to,” I replied. “Yes, that is true,” Alison said thoughtfully and took on a much merrier expression. I then learned all from her that I needed to know about the young gentleman in question. They had conversed briefly several times, though always in company. His eyes have yearned for her, she said. I did not disabuse her on that score, for it would have been unkind to do so. Stars were in her eyes when she spoke of him, but there are many such in the heavens that can take up similar positions in a girl's dreams, as we do know! Bruce, as her intended paramour is called, is but twenty-a callow youth! Where to arrange a rendezvous was at first a problem, but a discreet message being sent to him, I arranged to take a room at a hotel in the nearest town and there we met on the following Friday, I being introduced as a cousin of Alison's and going not unremarked in his eyes, as I could tell, as being no less attractive than she, as well as possessing a certain comforting maturity in my presence since I do look older than I am. We lunched and spoke of many ordinary things, I acting perfectly the part of chaperone! Not too much time was wasted, though, for as soon as coffee had been served at the table, I invited both up to take liqueurs in my room. Patently, Alison did not want me present during the opening of her “romance,” but as all the circumstances indicated, it had to be so. Besides, the young man was ripe to be teased. Alison soon saw the spirit into which I entered into things and no doubt advised herself quickly enough that other such opportunities might arise under my “patronage.” “I shall make myself comfortable. Alison, will you not also do so?” I hinted broadly. The bed was commodious (I had insisted on seeing several rooms first before I had reserved it, having learned all about “preparations” from yourself) and the room was large enough to move around within in comfort. Being perched tentatively on the bed, Alison waited on my move which- when it came-surprised her, for I suggested gently to Bruce that he might seat himself with her while I, opening one door of the wardrobe, made as seemingly best as I could to so conceal myself while I removed my gown and sought a peignoir-sticking my knickered bottom into view as I did so! “Oh, we can see you, Caroline!” said Alison. I indeed hope they could-or rather that the young man could for I made a pleasant enough display of my bottom and my thighs above my garters! “Be comfortable, too, my pet, for we may pass a pleasant hour or two together, if you will,” I replied.
My goodness, what a blatant invitation-but why not? I had the devil in me and knew no other way. Besides, I knew enough of Alison to know that, once teased up, she would be comforted enough. Turning from my attentions to myself and attired in exactly the same type of corselette as she so that my breasts showed underneath my peignoir, I turned back to the bed and raised my eyebrows to find her still fully dressed. “Are you not too warm?” I asked, casting my eyes (and all else) on Bruce, who could not take his eyes from me. Without further ado, I flung myself down upon the bed and let my robe hang open, thus to show my titties to them both. “Take your dress off,
