His artistic thoughts had tamed his lust for the moment: his member was no longer rampant, and he was thinking more of breakfast than fucking-but then the timid bending of the pretty girl over the bed, her bottom raised, shiveringly expectant of the stroke, fired him again.
'Give her five, Luigi, quick,' he cried.
The boy, savage-eyed also now, flicked the stinging twigs with a sharp twist of the wrist over the girl's flesh. Twice, thrice, he struck, and at the fourth blow the blood came.
'That'll do,' cried Charlie; 'come here, Luigi, and suck me.'
Poor Jeannie stared aghast-was she to have nothing then?
This was sadism with a vengeance, and Charlie revelled in it as he saw the girl's pitiful eyes, while he felt the warm embrace of the boy's lips on his penis.
He spent very quickly, but he hardly felt any actual sensual pleasure. His delight was in watching the girl's pain. Her skin must be smarting badly now, he knew, from the after-sting of the blows'-but more than that, what must she be suffering from the lust she felt, and the sight of its object being stolen from her by another? 'Keep it in,' he ordered, and he filled the boy's mouth with the hot juice, 'close your teeth on it. Now, Jeannie, kiss him, and drink my love juice from him.'
The girl did. She kissed the handsome boy with a long tenacious kiss, and she sucked all the sperm from his mouth, her eyes longingly and expectantly fixed on Charlie all the time.
Finished, she threw back her head with a jerk and gulped it. 'There,' she cried, 'my health to you.'
'Well, you've had what you wanted, my spunk in you. You can't say I haven't given you my fluid of life. Now you can dress yourself and go. Luigi, stop here and shave me.'
There was an evil glint in the girl's eyes, but she said no word and dressed hastily. Charlie did not even turn his head to look at her as she left the room.
Outside she cursed him deeply and bitterly and long. What should be her revenge she could not quite decide.
The sports were to be early. They didn't want any unexpected visitors from town, and the company was strictly limited to the people we have met already-with one exception.
A strange young man with an engaging manner managed somehow to get into the grounds and recalled himself to Tubby as an old school friend. Tubby had only a hazy recollection, but the man was so nice and seemed such a sport, and seemed to know so many people Tubby knew; Tubby was flustered and hadn't the heart to turn him out.
Maudie's lawn, as we have before met it, ran down to the river, and was fairly visible to passing water traffic, but there was a portion, a long green alley between great trees, which was completely shut off from any possibility of observation. It was admirably suited for the great race.
First came a pretty flapper race. The girls had to run fifty yards, undress fully and race back. It was won very easily by the Titian-haired nymph whose Venusberg had been preserved intact. She led at the turn, her clothes came of her in a trice and she raced back laughing, her red locks floating behind her.
There was a bicycle handicap for the boys and the flappers, all nude-it is surprising how sexy a naked girl looks on the saddle of a bicycle-and a match between May and Elsie. They had to run twenty-five yards, toss off the two menservants-a judge was present to see it properly done-and run back. Elsie won easily.
Then came the event: the contest for the flower of Toinette.
It was nicely stage-managed.
In a great china bowl, full of heavy-scented dried rose petals, sat Toinette, fully dressed, in a dead black costume relieved only by a silver belt, silver garters below the knees and a silver collar. In her hand she held a laurel wreath. Her hair was straightly and severely brushed, and for ornament she wore only a silver butterfly, streaked with creme de menthe green.
Quite close to her was the young man who had introduced himself as Tubby's friend. He had a camera in his hand.
One hundred yards away the runners waited. All, even the general, wore proper running clothes-a hasty motel expedition to Windsor had secured them.
From the start the general made the pace hot. He had put half a bottle of Martell Three Star down him, and reckoned that would just carry him through. Tubby panted in his rear; the poet galloped rather than ran; the two strangers were quickly outclassed; and Phil and Charlie were closing with the leaders.
With ten yards to go, Tubby had the general beat, but he could almost feel Charlie's breath on his shoulders. A superhuman effort flung him across the tape, a bare foot ahead of Charlie, the general beating Phil for place money by inches.
Tubby's friend clicked his camera shutter once more, grinned, and went.
Outside the gates he met a friend with a low-slung racing car.
'Well?' said the friend, as the photographer climbed in.
'First stop, Carmelite House, and you can put the Agapemone scoop inside this.'
Whilst the general was being violently ill among the trees, Tubby carried his little black and silver trophy, all vibrant with emotion-she had prayed for Charlie's victory-back to the pavilion.
There was a throne for her there, a black velvet dais, and there she sat while Maudie presented her with?1,750 in a plain oaken casket, with the name Toinette set in opals fringed with diamonds.
It was up to Tubby. He had 'doped' himself before the race, and helped himself very considerably to Martell and Mumm afterwards.
Toinette was his. After the ceremony of health drinking, she slipped her little black-gloved hand through his arm, and smiled up at him. He waggled as he walked back to the house with her. She made no pause, but led him straight to her bedroom.
Tubby walked rather sheepishly and vacuously to the window. He heard the girl click the key in the lock.
She turned on him with a radiant smile-she was sorrowful at heart that it had not been Charlie, but at any rate she was going to get rid of this tiresome maidenhead at last. She supposed it would hurt, but she was no coward, and she knew that ever afterwards it would be nice.
'Aren't you going to kiss me? I'm all yours for the present, you know.'
Tubby kissed her rather awkwardly, he wasn't much used to vice with such a young girl, and this very up-to-date, chic little Parisian flapper rather scared him. Also he was a little drunk, and he was painfully conscious that it was odds on he would be impotent.
However, he was as gallant as possible. He played with the little darling's still-stockinged legs, long silk stockings which came very near to the place of joy itself; he fingered her cunt, and he put his head up her clothes and kissed it, before he started to undress her. He tried all he knew to get randy, but he couldn't.
He would have given pounds to have been downstairs in a comfortable smoking-room chair with a brandy and soda.
She was all bubbling with lust, and shook with anticipation as he undressed. The naked beauty of the girl as she lay back eager-eyed on the bed should have roused any man to a state of frenzied lust, but Tubby's cock when he took off his trousers and revealed it, was a pitiable object, and Toinette stared in horrified amazement.
Blushing and ashamed, Tubby sank on the bed beside his victim designate, and tried by kissing and embracing to stimulate some passion. With the deft aid of the girl's fingers something in the nature of a cockstand appeared. Little Toinette gave every help: smoothed his head, his limbs, darted her hot tongue in his mouth, and eventually the end of his cock was guided into a hot, juicy little cunt.
Once it was in Tubby felt a flicker of sensuality, but soon realised it was hopeless, and resorted to strategy. Attempting some vigorous strokes which didn't get his flaccid battering ram near the expectant gate, he crushed the little darling in his arms, and made belief that he had come, and she was deflowered.