Chapter 10

The so-called "friends" of Mister Jolly who was now known as Andre were mostly the strong, silent types and they were probably well-suited to my sister Claudia but my inner Claire would have avoided them like the plague.

My new identity of bubbly Maria Allegra was one that I wore with great delight because I had always wanted to be a "Maria Allegra" and be cluelessly used in a pretense of ignorant unconcern. It was so liberating to be removed from worry and baggage from not one but two sisters with problems that weighted one's shoulders down like a weight of snow on a mountaintop. Eventually something would happen to cause an avalanche and you know how dangerous an avalanche can be.

It was the son of one of the dark-skinned French wise guys who sort of latched onto me like the son I never had or boyfriend for an older woman. Not that I was that much older than him in actual years but he was probably a generation younger in terms of personal interaction after my experiences in imitating my naughty twin sister. I was flattered he was visibly attracted to me. Mister Jolly as Andre certainly had no objections because all of his friends were being extremely helpful to us and he knew we owed them a sizable debt.

"Maria, can we go to the market and I can show you where they keep the nice ribbons for the hair. You need a red ribbon to show the world how beautiful you are with your hair pulled back."

My consort Mister Jolly, I guess I should start calling him Mister Andre, just looked over at us with some degree of amusement in his eyes and I knew he had no objections.

Marcel was only about nineteen but he had that sort of masculine maturity that would have looked well on a Hollywood aspiring actor. I could see all the girls in the shops and even their mothers look at him with desire in their eyes and the fact that he was totally oblivious to the webs they tried to spin about him. I kept my arm in his just to show some sort of proprietous relationship but I knew it would do no good if one of them was so determined that he would be forced to do them just out of a sense of friendly compliance.

I loved to hear his melodious voice calling me from the other side of one of the small shops to call my attention to some item.

"Maria, come here, you simply must see this. The price is so low. If you don't have enough money, I will use my father's credit. He has credit with every shop in the market."

The brush and comb combination must have been antique because I hadn't seen one so beautiful and obviously hand made in a long time. I wondered what sort of history it had and where it had come from so long ago. I shamelessly allowed Marcel to buy it for me knowing that my acceptance constituted an obligation on my part and in truth in my guise as Maria Allegra that was a welcome thought indeed.

The other girls in the shop looked at me with daggers in their eyes and I knew they would have slit my throat to switch places with me. I was a little frightened and moved closer to Marcel leaning on his strong shoulder like some besotted female admirer. He didn't miss my contact and I could tell it excited him to inhale my scent within his reach. I had no intent to tease him because at that point I fully intended to give up anything he asked of me without any reluctance or ploy to use him.

He followed me into the changing room with a twinkle in his starry blue eyes.

I knew he had funny business on his mind but when I had to bend over to remove my knickers, he spooned my bum so hard that I had to gasp out in sheer delight. I was certain the shop girls had heard me and I was totally mortified but enjoying it at the same time. I told Marcel in no uncertain terms to keep it "inside his trousers" or I would tell my Andre. He behaved himself after that but I could still see his eyes were telling a different story. I had not doubt on my mind that at some point on our trip to the market I would have to go into an empty alleyway with him and take care of his pressing problem.

It actually happened in the Maritime Museum inside the mock-up of an old tug-boat bridge that was both well-preserved and a nostalgic view of yesteryear. Marcel had absolutely no interest in anything Maritime unless I was in the water with my knickers down. As soon as the other guests had departed for another exhibition, he pushed me over the guiding wheel and buried his salami in my fanny as quickly as possible. The fact that I was soaking wet did not escape him and I heard him bark out a quick short of derision realizing I was just as hot to trot as he was. Marcel gave it to me hard and fast and I have to admit I was not in the least put off by it because at that point all I could think about was the flood of cum that was soon to hit me deep inside. He had a good hold on my hips and no matter how much I rolled my hits and flexed my knees he stayed deep inside and I was only pretending to be elusive just so his thing was hitting me in all my untended corners.