P. Fogg: A MEMOIR

On arriving the following day, I was greeted by Abigail Courtney Baring who provided me with a tour of their sumptuous home and grounds as a pretext in meeting her eldest daughter, Nicole. We found her in the music room. It was a high-ceilinged room containing a grand piano and decorated with wall paintings of satyrs and nymphs romping through a garden, very much like the one around the house, and accompanied by fawns playing pan pipes. The windows, which the paintings surrounded, looked out on the garden, giving the appearance that these wood creatures were actually in the Baring's garden.

Nicole was practicing and I noted that her left hand, the chord hand, was flawless. She made the structure of the music so clear I thought it Frantz Joseph Liszt himself practicing.

"Ah, Nicole, please excuse us," Mrs. Baring said blithely, "But do let me introduce Mr. Phileas Fogg, a friend of Father's.

Nicole stopped playing and rose up to greet me by offering her hand. As customary, I took her hand and pressed a light kiss an inch above the knuckles. The 13 year old flushed at this and not wishing to cause her any embarrassment I quickly released her hand. Mrs. Baring made an excuse and left us alone.

Nicole was pleased to learn that I too played the piano and we set out to try our hands at a four-handed piece by Chopin. It went rather well and our relationship was off to a good start.

I expect that Nicole suspected that I had an ulterior motive for being there with her. However, she readily accepted the excuse that I was a guest for the next few days and that it was her duty to entertain me while her parents were not available. The day passed uneventfully and once again that evening I hastened to Abigail's bed.

Abigail was waiting for me, sprawled across her bed, totally nude, her yellow gown carelessly discarded on the floor. I leaned over her breasts that glowed golden in the faint light given off by the bedside candle and kissed her. Abigail's lips parted and I ran the tip of my tongue against her lips. When my tongue brushed against her sparkling white teeth she shuddered and opened her mouth permitting me inside. Abigail began breathing through her nose as I filled her mouth with my love muscle, then lifted an arm, placing it around my neck, drawing me closer to her.

Presently we were delighting one another in the sucking of tongues. I added to the foreplay by rubbing the back of her head as lovingly as was possible. She then moaned for the first time that evening and for some reason I pulled away from the kiss. Abigail would have none of it, and after taking a deep breath, pulled my mouth back upon hers. Her mouth was open wide and she promptly thrust her serpentine tongue into my mouth. Her eagerness and zest almost brought me off then and there.

We continued kissing like young lovers for another ten minutes before I moved to her neck evoking a purr from her throat like that from a kitten just finishing off a saucer of milk. Thence to her ear and additional licks produced a similar response. I wondered briefly how my dearest Abigail would react were I to really pay homage to her exceptional body; and so after one last kiss in which we swiped our wet tongues over one another's, she capturing some of my saliva and toying with it, make it seem like a long, drawn out string, before sucking the entire strand into her mouth, swallowing it while she giggled in amusement at my consternation.

I quickly repaid her by lifting her right foot to my mouth and sucking each toe in turn while my hand ran up and down her shapely legs with a light touch. She liked that. She really liked that. Her moans increased and I had to hush her twice for fear she might wake someone else in the house.

Her husband had certainly never thought to pleasure her this way. And so I took my time and Abigail moaned that I was the best lover in the world. Remarkable words to hear from a beautiful woman, believe me.

"Phileas?" I couldn't believe how tiny her voice sounded to my ear.

"Yes, my love?"

"I should tell you that I... I am most tender back there."

"Your arse?"

"Yes. I'd rather you not go there this evening. Anything else is possible, but... it is so tender..."

"Your wish is my command my dearest," I told her and meant it. I felt the complete cad for having taken her arse and causing her so much discomfort.

"Phileas, tis not the fact we did it there. I truly loved it and do so want to repeat it as often as possible. But just that right now tis awfully hurtful back there."

"I understand, and thank you for allowing me that privilege dearest Abigail."

"Please, do continue what you were about. I truly adore the touch of your hands... and of course your lovely mouth."

Never one to disappoint a lady, I returned to her calves and licked upward and thence along her sensitive inner thigh, making sure to bypass her vulva.