But first you may be sure I had not missed the opportunity of taking many a view of Julie during the day, while she sat on her stool behind the shop counter in her plain black dress and coquettish little red shoes. I watched her as, having changed into the working pants of tight denim, she lifted the books and filled the shelves again. At a discreet distance, I followed her through the streets on her route to the rooms where Sian waited. How I adored the spread of her fine golden-blond hair on her shoulders as it rose and fell a little with the rhythm of her agile steps! How my eyes caressed her slender thighs in the skin-tightness of smooth faded denim which creased across their backs and behind her knees at each movement. Though she is, I hear, nineteen years old, Julie's thighs have the endearingly fragile look of a little girl's. My desires grew harder as I watched in the tight denim seat the lewd little movements, while she walked, of the saucy little cheeks of Julie's bottom! When we came to the narrow street, I hurried up to my window and sat there discreetly behind the curtain. Every room opposite was open to my view-bedroom and kitchen, even toilet and bathroom-so little did they imagine themselves to be observed and so little, perhaps, did they care. Sian was watching for her girlfriend's arrival. I saw the image of her face and the short tresses of red hair shaped about her head and lying here and there on her forehead. In anticipation of the passion and seduction to come, she had darkened the lashes of her blue eyes with the mascara brush and painted red the sensuous little bud of her lips. With her pert young nose and the slight weakness of her chin, she appears the most blatant sensualist. They met at the door of the sitting-room and at once slid their arms about each other in a writhing and smoothing embrace. Each of them seemed to be trying to stifle the other with the pressure of mouth upon mouth. Sian, the tendrils of dark red hair lying over her brow, was quite shamelessly unbuttoning Julie's blouse with all the moist eagerness of frustrated passion. In a moment more her hands had firmed up those pert little breasts which I vow ought only to be accessible to my own adoring hands. I was so vexed, Maude! So very vexed that I cannot describe my state of mind with any lucidity. It pains me even to recall my feelings then.
They led one another off, with arms twined lewdly round waists and heads resting together, pausing to kiss and nuzzle at every few steps. The door from the bathroom to the toilet opened and Julie went in, undoing her pants in preparation. At least, I thought, the door would be shut and she would be separated from Sian for a few minutes.
Perhaps I would contrive some scheme for getting the slut with the mop of red hair into my power by then. I was so enraged, my dearest, that I trembled afterwards at the images which had occurred to me. Yet I cannot say I regretted what I would have done to Sian if fate had delivered her to me in some harem from which no scandal ever emerges.
How I hated her painted little mouth and her round chin, the slant of her cheekbones and the way she mascara'd the lashes of her wide blue eyes. I raged at the mop of red hair trimmed short where it just lapped over her collar, its stray plumes falling on her brow. I would have handed the leather strangling-strap to my major-domo and ordered him to do his worst to Sian. Vain dreams, indeed, and yet most agreeable to me in my jealous fury-and surely justified by what I saw.
The door of the toilet did not close. Sian and Julie both entered.
Julie sat on the pedestal with her knickers round her ankles and released her flood on the porcelain. All the time, Sian hung over her and browsed with lips on lips. Julie sat a little longer while her friend busied round her. Then I saw that my treasure was winding her golden blond hair into a strand, holding it forward from the crown.
With Sian's aid she once more pinned it into that delightful little top-knot which gives her the look of such a saucy little madam of a child! Even before Julie rose from the pedestal, Sian knelt before her and removed the panties and denim which were round her ankles. To my fury she seemed to be telling Julie, in a sly and sluttish manner, that she would need to wear nothing of that kind again this evening and that indeed she might not be permitted to. I wonder, Maude. Do you suppose it could be contrived for the sharp bodkin point to enter Sian's belly button at such a snail's pace that she might live a whole day and night upon it? I cannot wish for less that that! I watched them return kisses again. Now it was Sian who undid her pants and sat upon the pedestal. I tell you, Maude, I nearly swooned with horror when I saw how she had led my girl astray.
For now it was Julie who hovered over Sian, lips to lips, while the redhead pressed the pale softness of her hips and bottom on the seat and then let loose such a flood upon the porcelain. Is the world mad? Has decency deserted the entire female sex? Like a pair of dirty little schoolgirls, Sian and Julie fondled and played in this inauspicious bridal suite. That was but the start. Sian stood up and removed her own pants from the tangle round her ankles. Naked from the waist down, arms about one another, they slunk from there into the bedroom. You may well believe that the boudoir of such a pair was a place of extreme disorder and that the cover of the bed itself was littered with the brushes and patch-boxes, the rouge and mascara, by which beauty is applied to certain female features. Among this debris, down they lay. Each pulled the other's blouse up to bring their breasts into play, nipples teasing nipples into hardness while I watched them. Then it seemed that Sian coaxed Julie to mount astride her thigh by cocking a leg over and to have a ride. My view was of Julie's saucy little bottom-cheeks and the rear of her thighs as she did this. How she squirmed! How her seductive little bum-cheeks clenched and writhed, her thighs squeezing upon Sian's in order to excite the sensitive folds of her vaginal flesh. I saw that Julie's passion rose easily and this made me lament all the more that she was not spending it upon me. Her hands were clenched into fists and she ground her teeth with frenzy. She clenched her thighs upon Sian's with such vicious energy that you might have thought she was trying to crush to death her ticklish little clitoris. What was I to do? Alas, I was doomed to be merely the spectator of a pleasure enjoyed at my expense. Julie had been easily seduced. She now turned about so that she knelt astride Sian's face, indeed almost squatted on Sian's lips, while she bowed her own face so that she could employ it between the other girl's open legs. In this manner they made love for the next half hour. First it was with fingers, diddling one another quickly up and down the pleasure slit, working a finger in and then quickly in-and-out. Next it was kissing and tongue-flicking of the other girl's love-button. During this, Sian moaned with happiness all the time and twice screamed out at the intensity of her arousal. Presently to my horror, I saw Julie move a little and kiss Sian upon the cheeks of her bottom. What was to be the end of this? I had not expected to see Julie climax first for though she may appear a sullen little thing, her moodiness did not seem to be of that kind which sometimes cloaks the sensual nature of a woman. And yet it was Julie who orgasmed first. She jigged her hips and her thighs-so slim and fragile- shuddered with the overmastering thrill of the release. She cried out the names of Sian, of her loutish boyfriend, and of several other partners with whom she has enjoyed a rub and a squeeze in the past. Sian, unable to wait longer for her own release, slipped a hand down and completed her own pleasure without any assistance from Julie. With her eyes closed and the tendrils of her red hair lying over her forehead, she began to gasp and tense herself until this randy trim-thighed little shopgirl came off with shudders and murmurs of passionate gratitude to her own fingers. Those who tell you, Maude, that jealousy is like the torture of the rack do not at all exaggerate. The cruelty of it is in the way it pulls a man in opposite directions so that he is no longer master of his feelings. At one moment I saw Julie in the arms of another and could have wept for the loss I felt. Then, with no effort on my part, I felt only a savage anger towards the girl for whom I longed. It was as if, since I could not have her, I wished to see her tortured and abused. Then this feeling too would pass and I was once again desolate in the hopeless state of my exile from her joys.