Chapter 12: Lace

"Here she is," Madam Von R-- said, "look at her, the poor thing."

I looked and saw a very appetizing young woman, eyes downcast and hands clasped at her softly rounded belly, her cheeks showing a bit of puppy fat.

"This is the one they call 'Lace, ' but her name is Elizabeth." The old Madam sniffed, obviously disapproving. "She is a very good girl, she is." Madam Von R-- took a deep breath and looked at me sharply, measuring or considering. "She has lain with a half dozen men in the last fortnight and secured a great deal of useful information as well as a few bruises."

"Seven," the girl said quietly, glancing at me.

"Eh?" said the old lady. "What, yes, seven men is it? Well, that's even worse, poor thing."

The girl was lean and well formed, long-legged and chestnut-haired with pouting lips and dark eyes. I waited, enjoying just being in the same room with her and trying not to think of her young body being assaulted by seven enemy males in the last couple of weeks.

"The worst part is," the old lady said, "this is a bit delicate you understand, the worse part is that none of them pleased her." She looked at me and furrowed her brow. "If you get my meaning. She gave them what they wanted and got very little in return."

Not uncommon, thought I, beginning to figure out why she had ordered me to shave and wash myself.

"So," said the gray-haired woman very quickly, "I have told her that you would do this service for her and make up for the boorish men she has been with, all seven of them. Men are such brutes." She flicked her fan at me and gave us both a grande dame smile. "Now get along."

I offered Lace my elbow and she led me up to her room on the third floor. I took her gently in my arms and kissed her as she closed the door, stroking her firm back and firmer buttocks and wondering if I could manage seven couplings. "Has this happened before?" I asked her as I sat on her bed and pulled off my boots.

She shook her head after she removed her combs so her long tresses cascaded down her back. "No, well, occasionally, " she sighed, "most men I've been with were, well, eager to, to, well, to bring me to, you know, to rouse me, to hear me cry out. It seemed to please them, make them feel, I don' know, confident. Sometimes I pretended. Often lately."

She took a deep breath as she struggled out of her bodice, its sleeves dripping with fancy lace. "But these, recently, these men were like, I don't know, like rabbits, some kind of eager animal, chipmunks. They are a group that run around together, similar types and snobs of the worst sort, every one of them." She hung her skirt on the chair back and came to stand between my bare knees. My warm member rose beneath my old shirt. I unlaced her stays, which as far as I could tell, served no earthly purpose, tossed them away and cupped her small breasts. I kissed her neck and ears feeling her tits harden.

"It really isn't fair, is it?" I asked, getting her to sit on my thighs, long legs wide spread. I could feel her heat with my rising cock. We kissed again, and she inched forward until the head of my rearing prick nuzzled her curly muff and prodded her little nub. She squealed deep in her throat, rose a bit on her knees, smiling at me and then wiggled forward until I was well lodged. I took my hand from my thick shaft, held her firm buttocks and eased it into her. She never stopped smiling. She was more than ready. I think I sighed as I pulsed my thick shaft up into her, inch by rigid inch.

A half hour or so later, as we lay tangled together in the bedding, she whispered, "That was six I think, that last one when I nearly fell out of bed. Can you do one more?"

I shook my head, surprised I could even do that, and she made her way up my body until her soggy mound was in my face, her knees on my shoulders. My tongue searched her narrow slit, found her engorged prick and teased it a bit. I kissed it thoroughly and then sucked it gently. She moaned and I drove my tongue up into her a few times. Her hand tangled in my hair and kept me there until she emitted a strangled cry of pleasure and then a shuddering sigh, releasing me, wet to the ears and worn to an untidy frazzle.

I sat up while she lay stretched before me, her white body showing pink splotches from our fervent love making, one arm across her face, her stomach rising and falling rapidly. I pulled her limp thighs across mine and brought her plump cunny to my swelling cock, our bodies crossed in X fashion, her head nearly off the side of the bed. I held her hips and she rolled left and right, arms spread wide as I hardened within her and slid deeper into her glove-like channel. We were both nearly exhausted but willing to make another effort to find pleasure in each other. My thumb caressed her slick and swollen lips as my mast rammed in and out steadily, pulling her sheath out with it on the recoil strokes, and she began to gasp out more rapidly until she spasmed once more and collapsed. Spent, and unable to ejaculate again, I slid from her and struggled from the bed, panting, knees rubbery.

I used the jar, washed my sore and fevered member at the porcelain basin, felt at my depleted ballocks and then clambered back up on the mattress to lie beside her. I held and cuddled her limp form, kissed her bruised lips and asked her, "Enough?"

Her eyes popped open. "For now," she said quietly, crawling down to kiss my soft member.

I found my clothes and dressed, feeling eviscerated, made my way to the kitchen and devoured some cold chicken. The madam found me there and beckoned. In her sitting room she told me that I was to drive and guard Lace on this night's assignation.

"I do not trust this man," the old lady said. "He is very young and very rich with bad manners and a silly face."

So I found my soiled livery jacket, hitched up the team and transported Lace, dressed and adorned for a ball, her high breasts nearly bare beneath a shadow of pale cloth, into the city that evening. Every window in the big home gleamed with candle light so as I sat, smoking and waiting for my passenger, talking with the other drivers and seeking casual information, I had no premonition of any dark deeds. It was well after midnight when I heard people approaching, a small cry of protest and then a gun muzzle at my back.