huge joint perched
between the lips, lounged on the armchair. It was a little awesome
to take everything in all in one go. First, the subdued lighting in
your room made me feel like I was walking into a completely
different place. I realized then that I was relying on the
familiarity of your room to bring some calm to my nervous
excitement. And then the people: Jean-Claude looked so gallically
handsome that night, with his long flowing hair, his white shirt
unbuttoned at the neck, showing a triangle of firm, tawny flesh,
his limpid eyes so piercing, so perfectly blue. There was Simone,
Jean-Claude's beautiful French wife, so elegantly dressed, her
honey-blond hair flowing down to the white straps of her plain, low
cut cream dress, the enticing dark curve of her fulsome cleavage
visible above the velvet. And then Frank with his thick tousled
hair, flecked with the first signs of gray, his mature good looks,
his confident languid posture and the casual clothes. You know what
I mean, that kind of effortless bohemian look of his. And then the
freshness of Adele, your young Austrian be-jeaned student,
probably, although she didn't look it, as nervous as I was at what
was going to happen to her.
You took me
into your small kitchenette, briefed me about your guests, and then
kissed me passionately on the mouth. I helped carry the plates of
food into the living room for you, that you had prepared for your
little party.
Frank spoke
first, flashing a quick conspiratorial smile at you, Freddie:
"So you are
Helena. You are beautiful!" he said rising from his seat, leaning
over me, brushing his lips delicately on my cheek.
Jean-Claude,
equally the gentleman rose too, smiled and offered his hand:
"Pleased to meet you," he said a little awkwardly, then gesturing
towards his wife he introduced Simone, who smiled showing her
dazzlingly white even teeth. Adele shouted over her greeting,
flashing her brown eyes in my direction.
No, it wasn't
a disappointment, every individual had their separate charm, their
appeal, it just seemed like a hundred other meetings or parties I
had attended with Gregory. There was nothing in that first
introduction that indicated the sensual pleasures I had
anticipated. I remember you coming to sit at my side as I occupied
the remaining armchair, pouring me a drink, taking my hand in
yours, exerting a comforting, reassuring pressure; as Frank told us
various anecdotes about college life, Adele strident outsider
thinking that she was getting something like insider
information.
As I drank my
wine steadily, I felt my face tingling with excitement, my face
suddenly fixing on Jean-Claude, the tingling sensation spreading
between my thighs.
Clever Freddie
and your fondness of potions. I had wondered why you poured out of
a demijohn and not the bottle. Ridiculously, I had thought this
uncharacteristically prissy of you. Little did I know. Everybody
was in on the act apart from Adele and I.
Frank had been
in deep conversation with Adele, their light laughter filling the
room. His hand had casually almost absentmindedly begun stroking
her hair, his lips occasionally brushing her cheek. Suddenly he got
up and kneeled beside Adele, her bright eyes watching him, her
plump breasts heaving in her unexpected excitement. Jean-Claude,
sitting between Adele and his wife, calmly reached over his hand
and began stroking the young student's face.
Adele started
to look a little bewildered. Lust burned in her body, but her sense
of modesty, of decency even, held her back. I recognized my own
restraint in the confused expression of her face. I know that you
later told me she had visited you many times before and was as
interested in her own sexual exploration as I was, but I could see
that she was momentarily perturbed by both her sudden lustful
feelings and the attention she was beginning to receive from the
two men. Simone kneeled between her legs and casually began
unbuckling the younger woman's belt.
I am sure that
I would have
between the lips, lounged on the armchair. It was a little awesome
to take everything in all in one go. First, the subdued lighting in
your room made me feel like I was walking into a completely
different place. I realized then that I was relying on the
familiarity of your room to bring some calm to my nervous
excitement. And then the people: Jean-Claude looked so gallically
handsome that night, with his long flowing hair, his white shirt
unbuttoned at the neck, showing a triangle of firm, tawny flesh,
his limpid eyes so piercing, so perfectly blue. There was Simone,
Jean-Claude's beautiful French wife, so elegantly dressed, her
honey-blond hair flowing down to the white straps of her plain, low
cut cream dress, the enticing dark curve of her fulsome cleavage
visible above the velvet. And then Frank with his thick tousled
hair, flecked with the first signs of gray, his mature good looks,
his confident languid posture and the casual clothes. You know what
I mean, that kind of effortless bohemian look of his. And then the
freshness of Adele, your young Austrian be-jeaned student,
probably, although she didn't look it, as nervous as I was at what
was going to happen to her.
You took me
into your small kitchenette, briefed me about your guests, and then
kissed me passionately on the mouth. I helped carry the plates of
food into the living room for you, that you had prepared for your
little party.
Frank spoke
first, flashing a quick conspiratorial smile at you, Freddie:
"So you are
Helena. You are beautiful!" he said rising from his seat, leaning
over me, brushing his lips delicately on my cheek.
Jean-Claude,
equally the gentleman rose too, smiled and offered his hand:
"Pleased to meet you," he said a little awkwardly, then gesturing
towards his wife he introduced Simone, who smiled showing her
dazzlingly white even teeth. Adele shouted over her greeting,
flashing her brown eyes in my direction.
No, it wasn't
a disappointment, every individual had their separate charm, their
appeal, it just seemed like a hundred other meetings or parties I
had attended with Gregory. There was nothing in that first
introduction that indicated the sensual pleasures I had
anticipated. I remember you coming to sit at my side as I occupied
the remaining armchair, pouring me a drink, taking my hand in
yours, exerting a comforting, reassuring pressure; as Frank told us
various anecdotes about college life, Adele strident outsider
thinking that she was getting something like insider
information.
As I drank my
wine steadily, I felt my face tingling with excitement, my face
suddenly fixing on Jean-Claude, the tingling sensation spreading
between my thighs.
Clever Freddie
and your fondness of potions. I had wondered why you poured out of
a demijohn and not the bottle. Ridiculously, I had thought this
uncharacteristically prissy of you. Little did I know. Everybody
was in on the act apart from Adele and I.
Frank had been
in deep conversation with Adele, their light laughter filling the
room. His hand had casually almost absentmindedly begun stroking
her hair, his lips occasionally brushing her cheek. Suddenly he got
up and kneeled beside Adele, her bright eyes watching him, her
plump breasts heaving in her unexpected excitement. Jean-Claude,
sitting between Adele and his wife, calmly reached over his hand
and began stroking the young student's face.
Adele started
to look a little bewildered. Lust burned in her body, but her sense
of modesty, of decency even, held her back. I recognized my own
restraint in the confused expression of her face. I know that you
later told me she had visited you many times before and was as
interested in her own sexual exploration as I was, but I could see
that she was momentarily perturbed by both her sudden lustful
feelings and the attention she was beginning to receive from the
two men. Simone kneeled between her legs and casually began
unbuckling the younger woman's belt.
I am sure that
I would have
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