During this monologue, Maxim had investigated and admired every statuette, painting and etching. He now walked back to the couch and began to leaf through an album which was put on one of the little end tables. It was filled with erotic picture. However, every single one of them portrayed lesbian scenes. He began to think.
“Now what,” he asked himself, “would be the purpose of this long waiting, and this homosexual exhibition. Why am I supposed to sit among undoubtedly the most expensive collection of lesbian curiosa in all of Paris?”
And suddenly, in a flash, it came to him. He was leafing through an album with exquisite engravings. There was a couple, engaged in about every position of lovemaking one could think of. Only one position was missing. The one in which a man could get a woman with child!
And under the last engraving, written in a woman's style, it said, “Surely there are enough possibilities to express one's love, and to reach the highest peaks of ecstasy without using that one.”
“Only a real ass needs more explanation,” Count de Berny said to himself, “and I surely must have been one during our first encounter. At least, I am pleased that she credits me with common sense. She did invite me again. But dammit, how could I know what she expected from me. She looked so innocent and virginal. That goes to show you how easily one can be deceived by beautiful large blue eyes. My lady fair seems to be a true and accomplished priestess of Venus, and I may have to learn things I haven't heard about yet!”
Dorothy interrupted his monologue. “Would your lordship be so kind as to follow me?”
And Maxim entered the room where he had spent so many beautiful hours just a few days ago. The room had not changed-it had the same chestnut-brown tapestries with pink flowers. Evergreen was stretched upon a sofa and she wore a negligee which seemed to go with her name. The folds of the transparent gown showed a chemise made mainly out of billows of lace and silk. Her negligee was embroidered with ruby-colored butterflies.
Flowers adorned her hair, and a large, exotic orchid was pinned on her breast, hiding part of her cleavage. Everything she wore was in perfect harmony with her soft complexion.
It was a pity that she covered her face with a mask.
“Oh, you evil little one,” Maxim said while he took a deep breath after a long kiss they exchanged upon greeting. “I have waited so long for this moment. Three whole days without any thought other than whether or not I would ever see my darling Evergreen again. I don't know if I can forgive you!”
“Have you really thought so much about me? I am glad to hear that, and I am also glad to know that this serious occupation has not caused you to neglect to court a young lady from the chorus line at the Opera, and to have a rendezvous with a well-known courtesan behind the discreet curtains of a certain famous restaurant in Paris.”
“How do you know all these things? But let me assure you that…”
“My dearest Maxim, you do not have to find excuses. I am not the jealous type. I only mentioned it to let you know that I am not one of those empty-headed creatures who will do anything just to head a well-turned phrase from their lover's mouth, and who believe everything he says. I know precisely when a man speaks, what he says and why he says it.”
“Do you mean that we were at the Opera and that restaurant at the same time-without me knowing about it?”
“Dearest don't you know that love is blind?”
“Please, I am serious. Were you really there?”
“I did not say that!”
“But in the meantime…”
“In the meantime I notice that your passion has not yet reached the point where your instincts take over.”
“One minute, darling.”
During this conversation, Maxim's hands had not been idle, and-straying through the billows of lace and silk-had soon discovered that his paramour's gown was only held together by a few ribbons. He quickly loosened them.
And the mirror was really a good one. It showed, when the billows of embroidered silk and lace slowly dropped to the floor, a perfect woman's body. Long, blonde hairs flowed down snow-white, well rounded shoulders. A patch of golden fleece covered and enchanting little love grotto. Maxim, who wanted to show that he was not a novice in the art of love, and who had been shown more than convincingly the extent of Lady Evergreen's passion, began to cover the wonderful breasts of the young woman with passionate, hot kisses. The little buds stretched voluptuously when his lips brushed past them and stretched more yearningly when he rolled them between his fingers. He tongued her breasts, caressed them with feverish hands, and did not forget the blonde tufts under her armpits.
Florentine let him do as he pleased; her eyes did not stray from the mirror for a single second. Intently, she followed every one of Maxim's movements.
He had picked her up and stretched her across the bed- Florentine anticipated all his movements. Staring at the mirror, she slowly spread her thighs, awaiting things to come with pounding heart and high expectations.
Maxim knelt down upon the bear rug in front of the bed. His loving fingers parted the silken curls of her quim, kissing the clitoris which he had bared. He kissed it, his eager tongue lapping across it, and it began to stretch and grow under his caresses till it was stiff enough for him to suck. He rolled it between his lips, and at the same time his hands eagerly twirled the nipples and kneaded the jutting breasts. The young woman sighed with a deep satisfaction.
“Aaah… it feels so good… oh, please, go on…”
“I was right,” Maxim thought, “there was good reason for her to show me all those lesbian scenes.”
“Oooh… it's delicious… how marvelous…” Lady Evergreen became more and more rapturous. “… please, not too quickly… I wish it to last forever and ever! Aaaah… ooh… please, please, darling lover… your tongue… I feel it… and your teeth… please, bite me tenderly!”
Maxim obeyed. He pressed his lips lovingly upon this downy peach which tasted better than anything he had ever tasted. He did not spend all his energy on the stiffened clitoris. After all, his love was no longer a young girl and he rightly suspected that the other parts of her vagina had also become sensitive enough to give her the greatest pleasure. His tongue strayed farther and his fingers took over the task of playing with the pumping clitoris. Florentine was floating in ecstasy. This was superior to Julia's kisses and caresses.
“Oh, my God… my dear God,” she exclaimed, “if you keep this up I am afraid that I can't… I can't… Oh, God… don't you hear me… I don't have enough strength… I can't… it is impossible… Maxim… darling… it… oooh… I…”