Message-ID: <41624asstr$1049447402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20030404035534.36371.qmail@web21009.mail.yahoo.com> From: Don MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 3 Apr 2003 19:55:34 -0800 (PST) Subject: {ASSM} The Dancer Mf 1st Mf MFMF MF Date: Fri, 4 Apr 2003 04:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw This story was inspirted the show "Dagas and the Dance" at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It is a work of erotic fiction. It is intended for the private enjoyment of the audience. Any resemblence to actual people or incidents is purely coincidental. Any additional distribution is prohibited without the expression permission of the commissioner. No animals were harmed in writing this story. Constructive feedback is welcome, if only to indicate that someone is reading it. Flames are not. Enjoy. Don *********************************** Colette Jardin was simply devastated. She slumped in her chair, her head falling on her chest. Faint sobs emerged from her small mouth. How would she tell her family? They had sacrificed for her to attend school at the ballet at the Paris Opera, now she had failed to be admitted to the Corps de Ballet. Several dancers, who were no better than she, had qualified, but she had not. She could continue for one more year at the school, but she needed the money. Her only option would be to leave the Opera ballet for one of the many less prestigious companies in Paris or the provinces, for considerably less money. Her friend, Marie, who had qualified, tried to sympathize. "You're a good dancer, Colette, but you are too private. You need to mix more with the others. You need a man who will sponsor you if you want to be admitted to the Corps." "What would a sponsor do?" "He would talk to the judges. Do you think that I was admitted only on my dancing? I had help from M. Jambon." "Why did M. Jambon help you?" "I am nice to him, in the special way a girl can be nice to a rich gentleman." Just then, M. Jambon came up to them, and put his arm around Marie. He said, "You did very well, my dear. I am proud of you. We can celebrate at the cafe tonight, then go to our little rendezvous." She kissed Jambon sweetly. "What about Colette?" she asked. " She needs cheering up." Jambon gave Colette a patronizing stare. Colette asked him, "M Jambon, do I need a sponsor like you in order to be accepted in the Corps de Ballet?" "It might help," he said. "How do I find one? If I don't find one, I'll have to leave the school. I don't have enough money to continue." Even though the school gave Colette a small stipend to attend, it did not pay her family enough to support her. Her family was very poor, and was counting on Colette become a ballerina to help to support her brothers and sisters. Jambon looked at Colette closely. She was actually prettier than Marie, but more serious. He felt committed to Marie, at least for the present. A gentleman never takes on more than one mistress at a time. Jambon said, "Perhaps I might find someone to help you. Join us for dinner tonight." Colette was so happy, she gave him a big kiss. He looked at Marie, slightly embarrassed in front of his lover. Colette had seen men who were season ticket holders at the ballet often back stage talking to the ballerinas. The girls flirted with them because they were rich. Colette was naturally shy with the men. She was too serious to flirt. She thought she could be successful though her talent alone. But even though she was a good dancer, she had to be much better it she wanted to survive on the basis of talent. Now she realized that she would have to be more open to what a subscriber had to offer. She only hoped it was not too late. At dinner with Jambon and Marie, Colette was introduced to M. Poulet. She had seen him before back stage, but never talked to him. He said, "Colette, you are a very good dancer. I have seen you at practice. But you never noticed me." She replied, "I am sorry, M. Poulet. I think I am too shy for my own good." "Why do you want to join the Corps de Ballet?" "Because I love to dance, and my family needs the money. I hate to think what might happen to me and my sisters if we don't have any money. Now, I might have to leave the school." Poulet replied, "That would be a loss. I can help you. If you are good and do everything I say, I will try to get you into the Corps next year." "But I need money now. My family can not survive on the stipend I get from the ballet. My father is sick and cannot work. My mother is a laundress, but she is also often sick, and she has my brothers and sisters to feed." "Don't worry. I will help you." he said, solicitously. Poulet smiled at the earnest young women. He had taken advantage of other poor girls in similar circumstances. Of course he would help her, but at the same time, he would help himself. Like other season ticket holders, he found his mistresses at the ballet. The ballet provided a way for respectable gentlemen to admire almost respectable young women who were half naked. They lived under the illusion of art. Indeed, many artists found their models among the ballerinas. He enjoyed making love to them because they were so physical, but so innocent. M. Pierre Poulet had a county estate in the Loire valley, where his wife and children lived. He did not have a noble title, but he had cousins who did. Although France had officially become a Republic following the defeat of Emperor Napoleon III, having a noble family still counted. He came to Paris for business and pleasure. He did not know if his family knew about his mistresses or not, and he did not care. To have a mistress or courtesan was a mark of success in business, and a source of prestige among his friends. A ballerina had enough class to make a good impression, but not enough to seriously threaten his marriage or his reputation in society. The prime job of a wife was to bare legitimate children who would maintain the property of the family. The prime job of a mistress was to keep him happy. Poulet would get credit from his friends for helping a young deserving dancer, whether she became his mistress or not. He knew that dancing was physically very exhausting, because the dancers had to practice six to ten hours a day six days a week. This would leave very little energy left over for him. Poulet already had a mistress, a former dancer named Susanne. But she was very pretty and sexy, but extremely flirtatious. He had no real hold on her, except financial, but he was vain enough to resent being made a cuckold. He did not know whether Colette would make a decent mistress or not, but he was willing to find out. Poulet took Colette up to an apartment that he sometimes used when he did not want to meet Susanne. He looked at her carefully and then said, "Take off your dress, my dear." Colette was afraid that might happen. She said, "M. Poulet, I've never undressed in front of a man before." "If you want me to help you get into the Corps, you have to do exactly as I say. I said, take off your dress. If not, you can leave, and stop wasting my time." "If I do, do you promise me you will help me get into the Corps?" "Yes. You have my word as a gentleman." Colette slowly unbuttoned the dress, and put it on the bed. She unbound her brown hair and shook it loose. Like many dancers, she was thin. Her round breasts were the size and shape of ripe oranges. She did not need the support of a corset. Her nipples were clearly visible under her petticoat. Poulet pulled her close and kissed her. She was not sure how to respond, but she put her arms on his back. She felt if he wanted her, she would have to let him have his way, if that was the only way to get his support. Poulet did want to make love to her, whether she wanted it or not. He pushed her down on to the bed. His hands roamed over her breasts, though the petticoat. She found the stimulation pleasant. However, she was not prepared for his hand reaching under the petticoat and touching her pussy. "M. Poulet, what are you doing to me?" She asked, surprisingly. "Deciding whether you are a woman who deserves my help," he replied. "If you help me, you can do what you want," she said. "That is what I wanted to hear." He let his hand explore her pussy. She found herself getting excited by his manipulations. Her breathing became sharper. "Do you like that, my dear?" he asked. "Yes, you are making my body feel good." "This should make your body feel better. Don't worry about anything." He undid his slacks and underwear. Before she realized what was happening, his prick was rubbing her pussy. He then deliberately pushed it in. She was too surprised to say anything. She just let it happen. She did not feel any discomfort because her dancing had stretched her hymen. When he was fully inside, he moved in her slowly. He had been trained by numerous prostitutes and courtesans how to control himself. He wanted to bring her off, if he could. He knew that a woman would always obey the man who gave her her first orgasm. He continued to move inside her, gauging her reaction. By this time, Colette was loosing her sense of self. She was awash in the feeling of letting a rich man enjoy her body. The pleasure flowed over her, taking her up to a climax. She pushed her pelvis up at him to increase her contact, and held him tight. "My god, what are you doing to me? You're making me feel wonderful." She said, breathlessly. He moved more rapidly, building up his own excitement, while she reached her peak. Just as he was about to cum, he suddenly withdrew. He pulled at his prick until his semen poured over her legs. "A gentleman knows to withdraw for climaxing. That way the lady is sure to avoid getting pregnant. I said not to worry about anything." They lay next to each other for a few minutes. Then he said, "You are very good to me. I will help you, but I want you to continue to be good and obey me, when we meet again. " Poulet met her on usually on Mondays, when she was not too tired, and when he could get away from Susanne. He gradually introduced her to the joys of sex. He occasionally gave her enough money to continue in the school, but it in a way that she was not being paid for sex. On one encounter on a hot summer evening, he suggested that they remove all their clothes. She quickly disrobed. She was in love with her body, and what it could do for her. She was anxious to display it. They embraced, letting their sex organs touch. Colette eyed his penis. "Is that your member? May I touch it?" she asked. "Yes, that is the instrument of our pleasure. I'd like you to touch it." She sat on the bed, touching it tentatively. She was surprised by how rapidly it grew under her hand. She looked at him, seeing him enjoy what she was doing. That encouraged her more. She wanted to do for him what he had done for her. She continued to masturbate him, increasing his pleasure. Suddenly he jerked his pelvis until his cum poured over her. "Did that make you feel good?" she asked. "Yes, you are very good to me." On another evening, while she was naked, he asked her to stretch as she would before dancing. She used the bedstead as a barre, lifting her leg high above her head. Her pussy was displayed before his face. He kissed it, making it tingle. She then got on the floor into a complete split, and rubbed her pussy into the rug. He found her displays very sexy, and wished she had more time for him. Over the year, they met a dozen times or more. They experimented with various positions. Colette enjoyed the physical aspects of sex. She was used to having men tell her what to do with her body. But they were never together for more than an hour, and never slept together. Colette was aware of her position in his life behind his wife, his mistress Susanne, and other women she had heard about. During the year, Colette grew more self confident, social, and comfortable with men. But she did not have any other man besides Poulet. When the time came for the competition for the Corps de Ballet, Colette danced with the other girls. She had a grace and sensual charm that she did not have the year before. Her dancing was much improved. She knew that Poulet put in a good word for her. He had considered not doing so and inviting her to become his mistress instead, but he had given his word. This time she won easily. "I am so happy, I could scream! This is the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you." Colette exclaimed to Poulet. " I want what is best for you. " he said. " How can I repay for your kindness?" she asked. "How would you like to join me for the week-end? I know a charming country inn where we can leave the bustle and heat of Paris." "You want me for the week end? What about Susanne?" "She left me for a real Baron." "I am sorry. I wish I could help you, but my dancing will get even harder than before." "I know. For now, the only thing for us is the country inn." Colette had never been outside of Paris, and had never ridden on a train. She found the whole experience with him exciting. A few hours later, they were at an inn in the Champaign district. When they got to their room, Colette jumped on him, smothering him with kisses. Sex was the only way she knew to relate to him. She backed away only long enough to strip off her clothes. "Make love to me. Your body would be the final cap to a wonderful day, " She urged. Poulet could not hold himself back from this sexy ballerina. He also removed his clothes and lay on the bed. "Fill me up, slowly and wonderfully," she whispered. Colette opened her legs, invitingly. He touched her pussy, but found that she was already excited. He slowly got on top of her, but she pulled him in. She wanted him, badly. He said, "Let's do it with me behind you. You will love it. " She was not sure what he meant, but let him position her body. He stood behind her and easily entered her pussy. "Just move naturally," he said. She found she could push back on him, controlling the stimulation. "This is wonderful. Do me, lover." she urged. Colette rocked back and forth under him, like the waves of the ocean under a boat. She wiggled her ass to get more action. He pulled hard at her small breasts, hurting her slightly, but increasing her erotic pleasure. He used them as levers to control her pace. But Colette did not want her pace controlled. She wanted to let loose with spasm after spasm of cum. Poulet almost lost control himself. He pulled out just in time to release a stream of semen over her ass. "I think you get sexier every time," he said. Colette fell forward on the bed. She needed a few minutes to recover. By then, it was time to get themselves cleaned up, explore the town, and have dinner. They visited some shops. Poulet bought her a small pin. They drank a whole bottle of champaign with dinner. Colette was not used to so much wine, so she fell asleep in his arms. In the morning, they made love again. This time Colette remained on her back, with her legs over his shoulders. This gave him greater access to her body. "Lover, do me. Make me cum." She said. Because he had cum they day before, he had no trouble controlling himself. Soon she was moaning with pleasure. "Yes, you doing it to me, " she cried. Her moans dissolved into high pitched squeaks, as she hit the edge. He urged her on some more. He kept with her, banging at her pussy rapidly. "My God, you have me there again." she shrieked. Poulet wanted to bring her off a third time, but again, he almost lost control, and had pour a fountain of semen on her stomach. After washing in the bowl, they got up for breakfast and explored the town some more. They met several men he knew, each with a mistress or courtesan. Each time he introduced her as Mlle. Jardin, a dancer with the Opera. Colette enjoyed meeting them, and found she had mutual friends. She felt at ease, and could almost fantasize being his mistress. They made love one more time before having to return to Paris. Poulet was going to spend the summer with his family in the country. If he still had a mistress, he would house her in a small house in a nearby village. Before they parted, he said, "I am sure we will meet again. If you ever get tired of dancing, call on me." "Thank you. I will." she replied. Colette spent the summer searching for a new apartment. The money from the ballet was sufficient for her to leave her parent's tenement and move into a flat she could share with another dancer, Marie. Colette devoted all her energy to dance, leaving her with little for a man. Only during the summer, did she try to have a social life. She went of vacation, usually to northern Italy or Germany. She tried to confine her relationships to gentlemen she could trust. She would not to to bed with a man she had just met, but had to be courted first. She felt that as a dancer, she was worth it. Since that required more time and effort than many men wanted to spend, she often remained celibate. She was not above accepting a gift or jewel from a gentleman, but she would never take money. It would be demeaning. Marie was sexually more adventurous. She was not afraid to go to bed any attractive man. She often teased Colette about her conquests. However, over the next five years, Colette only had six brief relationships, as compared to dozens for Marie. Colette began to miss the physical pleasure she had gotten from men. One summer they had rented a small pension by Lake Como in northern Italy. Marie seemed to have a different adventure every night, but Colette remained by herself. Colette asked Marie, "Where do you find the men for relationships? I look around here as all I see are married men with their families and low life hulks who are not interested in anything." "What about him? He would be good. How about a pas de deux with him?" Marie pointed out a laborer who worked by the lake. "He is not a gentleman. He goes after the wives of the guests." Colette replied. "Of course. He satisfies them because they're not getting it from their husbands. He can satisfy you too. I know, because I've been with him and his friends several times." "What? If you're not careful, you will get pregnant." "I know how to protect my self. I simply place a sponge in my opening. I also wash myself with a douche. I also know other ways of doing it that let you get control. How about a pas de quatre?" Marie waved to him. Marco came up, laughing. He was short, but dark and handsome, with well built shoulders from working by the lake. Marie said, "My friend and I would like to go dancing and see the town. Do you think you and another man, maybe Roberto, could take us there?" Marco knew just what she wanted. When he was with some of the older wives, he sometimes wanted money, but these pretty French dancers would be entertaining enough by themselves. That evening Marco and Roberto rowed them across the lake to an Italian town. Marie and Colette barely understood what they were saying, since they learned Italian from listening to opera. Marie and Colette surprised the men by dancing at the local cantina. They pirouetted across the floor, much to the delight of the locals. After a few hours of drinking and dancing, Marie motioned to Roberto that she wanted to leave. She also motioned to Colette to join them. Marco joined them too. They went to a room adjoining a local brothel. "It is safe here." Roberto said. Roberto kissed Marie passionately, pushing her down on the bed. He fumbled with Marie's clothes, trying to undress her. He already had had Marie before. Marco also kissed Colette, but she did not let him push her down. Marie rolled out from under Roberto, saying, "If we are going to do this, we do it my way. I'll undress my self. And you too, Roberto." Marie was slightly taller and bustier than Colette, she stripped down to her petticoat, and danced around the room. She moved to Roberto, and fumbles with his trousers. He pulled his trousers off, revealing a large erect penis. Colette also decided to remove her dress. The sight of Roberto's prick made her feel sexy. "Before we do anything with you, we have to put some sponges." Marie said. She soaked some animal sponge in the wash bowl. She sat on the bed, lifted her petticoat, and inserted some sponge into her pussy. Colette watched what she did, and tried to do the same thing. Both men found the display very exciting. They eagerly anticipated getting into their pussies, too. "You won't even know it's there," Marie said with a sexy swagger. "Now let me see what you've got." She got on her knees in front of Roberto and pulled his prick into her mouth. He promptly moaned his acceptance of this act. Colette wanted to do the same thing with Marco, but somehow she thought it was unnatural. Nevertheless, she pulled off Marco's trousers, and fondled his prick into it full glory. "I don't want it this way. I want to fuck you." Marco said. Colette was not used to crude language, but she wanted him too. "Yes. Just holding it in my hand is a waste of a good erection, " She agreed. Marie pulled her mouth off Roberto, and said, "Colette, make Marco lie on the bed and get on top of him, the way I am going to do with Roberto. That way, when he cums, you don't have to rely on him but can pull off yourself. " Roberto lay on his back. Marie lifted her petticoat and positioned herself over his prick. She squatted down on him, using her powerful legs to set her pace. Colette tried to do the same thing. She thrilled to the feeling of her pussy filled by a powerful prick. Marco put his hands under the petticoat, lifting it over her head. He played with her tits while she bounced on him. He wanted to be more active in sex. He squeezed her tits and pinched her ass. She moved slowly over him. It had been a long time, and she wanted to make it last. Marco was more impatient. He began to jerk under her. Colette tried to pick up speed to catch up with him, but she could not. She pulled off just in time to watch Marco's semen come gushing out. "That was good for you, but you still owe me," Colette said. Roberto did not mind letting Marie do her thing. He knew he would be fine, but he wanted her to be fulfilled. He lay there happy and relaxed, while Marie bounced on top of him. Marie had abandoned herself to her own lust. She did not care what happened to Roberto, as long as she achieved her pleasure. She moaned each time she flexed her legs. She put her hands on her boobs, massaging them. It took her longer than Marco and Colette to reach the edge. "Oh wow, yes." She grunted, letting her body convulse with pleasure. Roberto took that has his cue to push at her until his prick was filled with semen too. "I am going to shoot." he said, giving Marie ample time. In the next bed, Colette and Marco were playing with each other's bodies. Marco quickly got another erection, with Colette was still seething with lust. "I want to fuck you properly. I'll be careful," Marco said. Colette let him get on top and enter her. She liked having a man take possession of her body. "Fuck me. Fuck me good." She said. She delighted in the crude language. She wanted nothing more than having this dirty Italian take her on an erotic frenzy. She was breathless, as he pounded into her. "Yes. I'm going to cum. Keep going." She yelled. She found herself at the business end of an Italian sex machine. Marco had no trouble controlling himself the second time. He want to leave this dancer just begging for more. He played with her tits some more. She pulled on his back, scratching him as her passion rebuilt to another crescendo. "You are making me cum again, " she said breathlessly. Marco continued to bang into her. His pleasure was building also. He did not want to hit orgasm yet. He want it to last for her. She was so immersed in her own lust, she did not care what he did. He grunted and swore with each thrust. Just as she reached her third orgasm, she felt her pussy suddenly empty. Marco pulled out just in time to soak her stomach with a load of cum. He pumped himself with his hand until he hand emptied himself of his sexual juices. Roberto saw what Marco was doing, and decided he wanted to be more active too. He got off the bed, and told Marie to turn over. "Take me from behind, Roberto. I love it that way, too," she said, excitedly. Marie raised her ass, waving it in the air. Roberto carefully positioned his prick into her exposed pussy. He pushed down as hard as he could, almost shoving Marie off the bed. She held on, and pushed back at him. "That's it, Roberto. Work me over," she urged. Roberto put his hands on her hips, working her back and forth. He slapped her ass and pinched her tits, building her heat to boiling. "Pinch me, Roberto. Make it so I can't stand it." Marie cried breathlessly. She was getting delirious. She wanted her erotic tension to bubble over. She came like a volcano, as wave after wave of sexual lava came pouring over her loins. Roberto continued thrusting until he also released waves of white lava, which he sent crashing onto her back. The four of them lay on the beds, wet and exhausted. They slept briefly. By then the sky was beginning to brighten, and Marie want to get back to the inn, so that she and Colette could clean themselves off. "Wasn't making love with those men delightful?" Marie asked. "Yes. But that wasn't making love. That was fucking. Fucking is just about sex. Making love is about pleasure. It will be great, as long as we don't get pregnant." Colette said. "We were careful, and so were they. We won't get pregnant." Nevertheless, Colette was worried, and relieved when she realized that neither of them was pregnant. As much as she enjoyed fucking, Colette would rather be with a gentleman who could be trusted. For her, getting pregnant would be a tragedy, because it meant she could no longer work. Over the next few years, she allowed herself to be fucked only occasionally, when was careful to use a sponge and she had gone months without sex. What she needed was a man who combined the vigor of an Italian stud with the manners of a gentleman. The closest she came to that were a baritones and a tenor who had leading roles at the opera. They were terrific in bed, but soon advanced to other conquests. As she approached her late twenties, Marie decided that dancing was becoming too hard. She was having a relationship with a rich count, who usually did not withdraw during ejaculation. Marie's precautions were not failure proof. She eventually became pregnant by him. The count was famous all over Paris for fathering illegitimate children by his various mistresses. Marie did not really mind, since the count gave her a large sum of money, and she had a good excuse to quit the dance. Marie decided to marry a trombone player in the Opera orchestra. They had been having a low scale relationship for years. He knew about her baby, but he decided that any woman who was good enough for a count was good enough for him. Colette was invited to the church as a maid of honor, but she avoided the bouquet. The priest who performed the ceremony may have known that the bride was pregnant, but he felt that as long as the baby was baptized, it would be all right. Colette did not want marriage or a baby. She had been raised in dire poverty, and was desperately afraid of it. She saw what babies had done to her mother. She was afraid of anything like that happening to her. Colette continued to dance for another two years. However, her legs were hurting more than ever. They had taken over twenty years of abuse. She could no longer go on point without excruciating pain. The only pain reliever available was laudenum, which was based on opium and often addictive. She was depressed that her body was finally betraying her. Without dance or marriage, Colette had to find another way to avoid poverty. She decided that her best option would be to find some man and be his mistress or courtesan. She enjoyed sex, and would have to get over her reluctance to accept money for it. She enough money to live until she could find a good situation, and enough contacts through the Opera that should not be hard. One of the men she contacted was her old lover, M Pierre Poulet. She had seen him a few times over the years, but just exchanged pleasantries. Nevertheless she was surprised when a note came from him inviting her to dinner at one of the finest restaurants in Paris. Colette wore her best dress and finest jewelry for the occasion. When she arrived, she saw Poulet was accompanied by another woman about her age and a much younger man. Poulet said, "Good evening, my dear. Let me introduce my friend, Clara, whom you may know from the opera, and my son Louis." Colette recognized Clara from the chorus. She was a large pleasant woman, with a round face and double chin, whose breasts were clamoring for release from her corset. Pierre and Louis looked as if they had been divided and moved in different directions in time. Pierre had grown fatter, grayer and balder than when she met him over thirteen years earlier. Louis was just a handsomer version of his father, but he had an edge which was almost cruel. After some light conversation and some heavy food, which Clara especially enjoyed, Pierre turned to Colette. "Do you have any idea what you want to do when you finish dancing?" "Perhaps enjoy being with a rich man." "Do you speak Italian?" "Yes." "Do you speak German?" "A little." Colette learned German from one of her lovers. "Do you speak English?" "No. I learn from music, and the English do not make good music." "Well, I was there at the beginning of your career. Perhaps I could help at the end. What do you think of Louis?" "He is a very handsome fellow." "Yes he is. He is also fallen victim to the rich man's disease. He spends all his time and money drinking, gambling, and whoring. He needs to appreciate the finer things in life. I would like you to be his companion, to travel with him, and show how to appreciate life and beauty." "Why can't his friends do that now?" "I don't trust them. They will be whoring again, with my money." "What do you want me to do?" "Stay with him and keep him out of trouble until he finds a lady from his own class to marry. He needs someone of your experience and maturity, as well your beauty. " "Do you want me to be his mistress?" "That is up to you and him. I will pay all your expenses for a year, while you travel and learn. After a year, I will give you an annual stipend, provided you stay loyal to my family, and not become a public courtesan." This was the best offer Colette could expect. She was sure she would have make love to them, but that prospect excited her. Colette accepted the offer, and agreed to move in with the Poulets by the end of the week. Colette sold her furniture and utensils to her land lady, and packed her remaining possession, mostly clothes, into a few small crates. Colette was offered a small room on the main level which had been used by Poulet's daughter. Clara wanted to establish her priority in the household. She said to Colette, "This where you will be staying. M Pierre asked me to offer the services of my maid, Anna. But remember, I was here first." Colette replied, "Thank you. I have never had a maid. I am sure I'll be fine." On her second night there, there was a knock on her door. She felt it would have to be either Pierre or Louis, looking for her bed. It was Louis. He entered the room, which was dimly lit by gas lamps. He was just wearing a night shirt. "May I sit down?" he asked. "Of course, Louis." "You should know that having you move in with us is my father's idea, not mine. But I am glad you agreed. You are very pretty. If we are going to spend time together, we should know each other better." Louis leaned over to touch her, but Colette pushed him away. "Thank you. But if you are planning to share my bed, I insist that you give me my pleasure, in addition to your own." "I thought ladies do not expect pleasure in bed." "I am not a lady. I am a Frenchwoman. If you do not know how to give a Frenchwoman her pleasure, I suggest you ask your father." "Are French women better?" "Everyone knows French women are the best." "How about Italian women?" "There just two types, virgins and whores." "Spanish?" "The same, only more so." "What about German women?" "I don't know too many German women, but judging by the German men, they are too neat. They might confuse an orgasm with a polka." "And the English?" "The English have not discovered sex yet. I don't know how they have children. If you try to enter an English woman, she might be so cold she will freeze your dick." Louis was glad he was with a French woman, and he knew how pleasure her. He was just usually too selfish to care. Now with Colette, he would have to care. "I will give you a bed of joy," he said. "Then stay there while I get ready." Colette went behind a screen to insert her sponge. She then washed herself and removed her night shirt. She approached the bed naked. "You are prettier than I imagined." Louis said, softly. Colette climbed on the bed and lay next to him. She reached under his night shirt and felt for his penis. "Let's see if you have what it takes to satisfy a woman," she said. His prick grew in her hand, until it exceeded the generous proportions of his father. He had one of the largest organs she had ever felt. "Yes, you do. Take off your night shirt so I can feel your body." When he was naked, she moved on top of him, and planted her mouth on his prick. "I want you to be ready, but not too ready, " she said. She licked his penis for several minutes, sure that she was pleasuring him. Then she pulled away. "That felt so good. Why did you stop?" he complained. "Because now is your turn to pleasure me." She lay back on the bed, with her legs open. When he went to mount on top of her, she said, "Not yet. You have to pleasure me first. Use your hand and mouth." Louis started to finger her slit. "Put your hand here," she said, moving his finger to her clitoris. He rubbed her there, exciting her tremendously. She moaned with frequent "oohs", as he touched her. Louis felt good that he could excite her. "Kiss me in the same place," she instructed. Louis had never kissed a woman's pussy, but it seemed natural to keep her excited. He was afraid it would have an odor, but she had washed before, so it was fine. He kissed her clitoris and was aware of how much louder her moans had become. However, Colette did not want to cum on his mouth. "Put your magical tool in me. I want you to take me." She whispered. Louis climbed on top of her and thrust his prick deep. " You are so big. Take me. Fill me up, " She urged. Louis had her pinned to the bed. He was pushing into her hard. "Take your time. Make it last, for both of us." she said. Louis tried to take his time, but the sensations from his prick were overwhelming. "I can't last much longer," he said, grunting. "Then do it. Take me as hard as you can." She pushed up at him, getting into a delicious rhythm. She was climbing higher. Suddenly, the tension in her abdomen snapped , letting orgasms bounce around her body . The tension in his rock hard penis was almost painful. He had to get some release too. He pulled out and leaned over her. She took his tool in her hand, helping him to soak her her belly in a torrent of cum. When he was finished he lay down next to her. "I'm sorry that happened so fast," he admitted. "You were good. And next time you will be even better. You have all the natural talent. And I will train you to use it." She got up to wipe the semen off her stomach. She handed him his night shirt. "You may come back any time you want. Good night." Colette became Louis's mistress. However, she also let Pierre make love to her, when Clara was not available. She felt good about being shared by father and son. She traveled with Louis all over Europe, visited concerts, opera, and museums. She taught him about music and art. She also taught him about making love. When Louis decided to marry, Colette performed the same service for his younger brother, Henri. He was less enthusiastic about being with an older woman, so she went back to Louis when his wife became pregnant. Finally, when Pierre's wife died, she moved in with him. Eventually, when Pierre finally died, a stipulation in his will provided a stipend to her for life. Louis's and Henri's children knew her as aunt Colette when she lived with them. And so she remained for the rest of her life. __________________________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Tax Center - File online, calculators, forms, and more http://tax.yahoo.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+