"I have no idea, Madam Andre."
"What do you mean, you have no idea?"
"As I said. I have no idea. He was in the bathroom, but he must be out by now. I don't know where he went."
"What is that banging?"
"I have no idea, Madam Andre."
"Look," said Madam Andre, somewhat perturbed and a little worried, "is George in here, or not?"
Nellie shook her little head. "I have no idea where he is. I'm sorry."
George spent the night in the fortress-like bathroom. Finally, in the morning when Nellie tried to get in and couldn't, the household was alerted. Madam Andre got in herself and found him sound asleep in the giant tub.
Chapter Fifteen
In spite of the failure of the blackmail attempt, it wasn't long before the three of them, Nellie, George and Madam Andre, were swinging in the right direction, anyway.
Their first intimate meeting took place when Mrs. Staunton took Steve to a festival in Monte Carlo. They were to spend the night because Melissa didn't like Maurice to drive the crooked, twisting coast road at night. There were too many sharp curves, hairpin twists, and drunken drivers for her taste.
The three of them were alone in the chateau. The dogs had been fed and turned loose on the sprawling grounds to keep their eyes out for any intruders. Nellie was taking her evening bath. George and Madam Andre were in the kitchen. George was cleaning up, and Madam Andre was mixing the dough for the following day's bread and morning muffins.
In the background, a tiny transistor radio was playing dance music on Radio Luxembourg. A tall candle flickered on the long kitchen table where the staff took their meals. The polished table gleamed in the soft candlelight.
Out of doors, it was very still. Now and then, the light roar of a passing aircraft, a lonely dog barking in the distance, or a church bell somewhere in one of the tiny hill towns could be heard.
"I think she's attractive when she's relaxed, don't you, George?"
Madam Andre was speaking in a kind of patois French, a local vernacular that Nellie would not have understood even if she had spoken French. Nellie's command of the language was strictly limited. It is true that she learned a few words when she worked as the au pair with the French family in Paris, but now, with little if any French expected of her, Nellie was quite indifferent to the language.
Since both George and Madam Andre spoke perfect English (with accents, of course), there was no need for Nellie to learn another word. She could always point with her index finger if she needed something from a Frenchman, the way many foreigners do, especially the British.
"She's very pretty," he replied.
Madam Andre turned on her heel. "Oh, she is, is she?"
George glanced up. "Jealous, eh?"
She laughed. "What, may I ask, should I be jealous of? What could that little wench do that I cannot do, George?"
He was silent for a while. She turned again, wiping her floured hands on her apron. "Did you hear my question, George?"
"Huh?"
"George!"
"Yes, Madam Andre," he said, nearly standing while looking around as if something had happened. "What?"
"I asked you a question, did I not?"
"I don't think I heard it. Would you mind repeating it, Madam Andre?"
"George, you are impossible."
"That is not a question. That is a statement."
She laughed. "You are so very clever George. You should be master of some great house."
"I am master of this one." He sipped from his wine, looking over the rim of the glass, and winked at her.
Madam Andre folded up the dough. She wrapped it in a damp cloth and kneaded it once more for good luck. Then she made the symbolic French gesture of spitting over her left shoulder before taking the wrapped dough and placing it in the bottom of the stone refrigerator, which was actually a natural earthen storehouse in the rear of the great kitchen.
"What is she taking so long for upstairs, George?"
"You are too impatient, woman," he said.
She scoffed. "If I trusted you, I'd send you to find out."
"She'll be down, I'm sure of it."
Upstairs in her private bath, Nellie was brushing out her long hair. She looked forward to the small private party George had planned to celebrate her third month on the new job.
Madam Andre had baked a small French cake and George had promised her a fine old wine from the vast cellars under the chateau. Of course, there would be pretty flowers, because the chateau gardens produced so many wonderful blooms. The whole place sometimes resembled a picture spread in a garden magazine. There were always freshly cut flowers all over the house.
Nellie put on a special pair of high spike heels, which Melissa had insisted on buying for her. She wore a tiny French brassiere, which accentuated her thrusting, ripe breasts. Her panties were very brief, silky and transparent in the crotch, revealing much of her lovely buttocks, which were plump and curvy. She wore sexy nylons with a tiny, lacy garter belt to hold them up. And over all of this, she wore a new pale yellow chiffon gown.
She used her new atomizer, another gift from Melissa Staunton, with the new fragrance from the town of Grasse, to spray her brassiere, her nylons and her panties. Nellie tried making up her eyes with mascara, but she never really knew how to apply it without making a mess, so she gave up the idea.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she decided she'd never seen anything lovelier. Her smile was radiant, happy, full of inner pride. She'd done it! She run away from a home she'd hated. She'd found happiness!
"Hello everybody," she grinned, entering the kitchen.
Both George's and Madam Andre's eyes popped. They clapped their hands and grinned.
"You're beautiful!"
"You're lovely!"
"Happy anniversary," said George, lighting candles on the tiny cake.
An hour later, two bottles of wine had been emptied. George was lying stark naked on the table. Straddling his face, wearing her sexy panties that still smelled of the new fragrant perfume, was Nellie. She was rubbing his face with her cunt.
Madam Andre was also naked, except for her boots and a wide black belt around her waist. She was up on the kitchen table, kneeling, her head over Georges' huge cock. She was sucking it. She washed it with her tongue and kissed it lovingly. She took it into her mouth and let her tongue swirl all around the top of it, down to the base and back up.
She made loud sucking noises as she looked up to watch the half- naked Nellie move her cunt all over George's face. She could visualize his tongue weaving into her cunt, pushing the panties aside. She could imagine how wonderful Nellie's cunt smelled and she could hardly wait to suck it herself.
She played with George's heavy, hairy balls, scratching them with her sharpened fingernails. Then Madam Andre inserted a finger up into his hot moist asshole. He squealed, but the sound was muffled because Nellie's cunt was pushed onto his mouth.
When the French woman felt his prick was hard enough, she positioned her body over the gigantic cock and spread her thighs. Wetting his cock with saliva, she slowly lowered herself down onto it until it was completely engulfed by her famished cunt. As it penetrated deeply, she began to bounce up and down. The juicy noises of Madam Andre's cunt aroused Nellie who was in ecstasy as the man's swirling tongue washed her own cunt lips and thrust deeply inside of her.
As Madam Andre continued to fuck George, she reached forward and gripped Nellie's shoulders, using Nellie for support as she pumped up and down on the man's cock. Nellie's back faced Madam Andre, and as she watched the girl's muscles and spine straining in exquisite tension, she was excited by the sight.
Then Nellie leaned back, turning her face. Madam Andre's mouth found Nellie's and soon their tongues were entangled.