BOOK I

A Black Mass and a Midget

For anyone in Alexandra's condition I know of just one prescription ... . a liberal dosage of two great specifics, liquor and a lay. Her experience at Charenton's mass has left her trembling and incoherent, but she's able to find the brandy she keeps in the car. We drive away as fast as we can. I don't know the roads and Alexandra is too hysterical to be much help, but from this place where she has brought me they all lead to Paris.

Charenton ... there's a man! At least his entertainments aren't boring, which is more than you can say for his more respectable brethren. And since he apparently doesn't go to extremes, since there's no slicing up of babies and no cannibalism, his evil seems innocent enough. A bit more spectacular than the usual brand of evangelism, undoubtedly, but not very much more dangerous. I respect his vitality, and to Hell with the ends toward which it's applied ... too many of the people I know are more than half dead, both ways from the neck.

Alexandra's opinions on the subject remain her own. After tipping the brandy bottle a few times she becomes quiet. She snuggles across the seat against me, still naked, and offers me the brandy. I take just one drink. I don't need brandy half as much as I need to screw somebody ... the dong I had back at Charenton's begins to come back after we've driven a few kilometers. In a closed car with the windows up, you really begin to get an idea of the potency of that stuff women are continually brewing between their legs... .

Alexandra can't relax ... won't, probably, until something's been done for the itch she's worked up. The brandy has settled her but a very little bit, and she feels like something which might explode in your hands. She claws my clothes open and grabs my cock ... not to play with but to hold, as though to be sure that it was still there and that it stayed where it was.

I suggest several times that it might be a good idea for Alexandra to put on at least some of her clothes ... I don't care much to drive through Paris with a naked cunt in the car. But when I bring the car up to the curb in front of her place she's as naked as when we started back. Even then she won't put on anything. Holding her clothes in a bundle she gets out of the car and marches around in front of it before I find the light switch. Then we stand for all of five minutes while she looks for her keys.

I've never seen Alexandra do anything like this. She's been a bitch since I've known her, but she's always been one of those discreet cunts ... . the kind that get up on their horse if you try feeling them up anywhere but in their bedroom.

But I'm not tremendously surprised. I don't try to figure them out anymore ... . . I just fuck them. It's a great saving of effort. You can screw a cunt in twenty minutes, but if you consider your time as worth anything you can't afford to answer all the questions that come up in those twenty minutes.

Alexandra takes me directly to her bedroom, going up the stairs ahead of me with her ass wagging in my face, grinding away like some wonderful machine.

Christ, they have no respect for you, these cunts ... . . they'll wag their tails under your very nose without the slightest concern for what it does to you.

Alexandra's thighs are slopped up with cunt-juice halfway to her knees ... I'm tempted to set my teeth into that fat ass she shows and see what happens when I bite out a steak for tomorrow's lunch... .

In the bedroom she's as tense as before. She tries to lie down and wait for me to do the honors, but she's too nervous. She sits with one elbow propping her up and fiddles with her bush while I'm undressing. And she's still taking pulls from the bottle although she stopped trembling long ago.

Since Alexandra began playing with it in the car I've had a dong as big as my wrist, and my balls feel as though somebody had tied them into knots. It's such a wonderful erection I have that, after I've gotten my clothes off, I stand in front of the mirror and admire myself for a couple of minutes. A man ought to have a photograph taken of himself when he's in shape like that, just to keep around and look at when he goes in to ask the boss for a raise in salary. Then too, it would be nice to have around and show your grandchildren.

Alexandra admires it with me, but she has her own notions of what to do with it. She grabs for it first thing, and before I'm on the bed she's trying to fit it into her mouth. That cunt ... after all the trouble I had getting her to suck it at first ...

 

She fits her head into my lap and begins making love to John Thursday. She moans ... she could suck my prick all night, she tells me ... but I have a reason for believing it won't be that long ... I pull the pillow under my shoulders and take the pins out of her hair.

Did I notice the woman who formed the altar at the mass Alexandra asks ...

and I wonder how you can believe women to be anything but a race of idiots when even a supposedly intelligent one can frame a question that way. But I tell her that I believe I have some recollection of such a person being there... .

"She's married, has a child ... and nothing of what goes on reaches her husband's ears. Charenton even goes openly to her house ... the husband believes him to be his wife's confessor, and is happy to have them shut themselves off for hours at a time... . ."

She bows her head again and licks my belly while she rubs John Thursday's red head over her chin. Her tongue is like a very small snake scurrying down my belly to hide in my mop... . Somehow I can't help wishing that I had been around on one of the nights when Alexandra was taking a more active part in Canon Charenton's Hallowe'ening ... she's such a cool, dignified piece of cunt when you see her out of bed.

At times there's something about Alexandra's features that remind me of the Egyptians. It must be the way she holds her lips, pouting them, when she's close to my prick. Or perhaps it's the angle from which I see her when she's put her face against my belly, because I don't think of it unless she happens to be washing John Thursday's whiskers. But Alexandra should have a band of gold about her head, a viper to play with, and a peacock feather to tickle her cock... ...

She lets my dong lay on her hand while she touches the head of it with her lips ... . she doesn't hurry, there's plenty of time for everything. Alexandra's nothing like some of these young cunts that hop all over you like a flea. She's mature, she's a big woman, and there's too much meat on her bones for her to go bouncing about like a rubber ball. You get a sense of satisfaction with Alexandra and it's only when you've been screwing someone like that that you can really see how little you get out of those fucks that come off like an explosion. Fireworks may be pretty, but to keep your ass warm in the winter there's nothing like a slow burning coal fire... .

 

When she puts John T. into her mouth again I know at once that he's going to be soft when he comes out. I push Alexandra's hair over her ears so that I can watch her face . . then I lock my ankles around her waist. It's not until then that Alexandra realizes that Johnny means business, and she doesn't care at all for having my dong go down before she had a feel of it under her ass ... . she tries to get away, and I have to hold her head and push it down until we come to an understanding about this matter. John Thursday finally settles it himself ... .

with his nose shoved almost into her throat he suddenly comes. Once that begins to happen, Alexandra gives up the battle and makes the most of the bargain. I feel that pints of jism are being sucked out of my cock, and Alexandra acts very much as though she were trying to suck my balls inside out. Her mouth gurgles like a straw at the bottom of the glass ... she's not content to swallow my jism ...

she wants to swallow my prick and me after it... . .

She's hotter than ever when she's exhausted me. She hops off the bed and has another spot of brandy, gets back on and tickles her fig by holding it against my bush. At last she throws herself back on the pillows, and laying her bonne-bouche within a couple of inches of my nose, she spreads her legs and starts playing with herself. She obviously expects something of me ... After spending several minutes in showing me how that part of her anatomy works, Alexandra sighs wistfully. There are times she tells me, when she does wish that the children weren't off in the country... If her Peter were here now he'd know what to do, he'd make her happy ... or even Tania ... Soft little Tania with her wicked mouth and quick tongue ... Yes, sometimes, although she knows she did right to send them out of Paris, she wishes they were back again.

Which makes it unanimous as far as the family are concerned. Tania and Peter, I know, would do almost anything to be back in Paris, even without the privilege of going to bed with their mother. It all seems pretty silly anyway ... I've never noticed that solitary confinement had any particularly moral effect on kids

...

Alexandra's hinted invitation is overlooked, and finally the cunt comes out and asks me directly ... will I suck her cunt? The answer is that I won't. I haven't any idea of when Canon Charenton was fiddling around Alexandra's abricot-fendu with his pontifical prick, and I'll be damned if I'm going to be argued into Peter's habits. To make her happy I do lick her thighs ... they taste of her cunt, and since a large part of Alexandra's happiness is in anticipation anyway, she's almost contented with that. She keeps one finger in her con, almost splits herself trying to spread her legs a bit further, and goes on diddling her tail while I lick all around it.

But that can't go on forever ... Alexandra gets too hot to keep at it for more than a few minutes. She wants to be screwed, and a finger in her fig is a poor substitute for what ought to be in there. She tickles John Thursday's beard, makes him promises, bribes him with kisses ... and shortly she's teased him into lifting his head again. And doesn't she get excited when she sees him coming to attention again! She flounders around the bed until it begins to look as though half a dozen boy scouts had been camping out under the covers for the past week

... she climbs over me and under me, through my arms and between my legs, leaving streaks of juice and the stink of her trap everyplace. Finally I grab her as she is going by, throw her on her ass and jump on... . .

She isn't contented to spread her thighs and wait for my dong ... she hooks her fingers into her split fig and pulls the lips so far apart that for a moment it looks as though the slit might spread right on up her belly. Then she throws herself downward and tries to snag my cock by herself. She couldn't miss ... not with her cunt spread the way she has it. My dick slides into her bush, between those juicy, stretched lips, and right on in until it feels as though it must be swimming in oil. Alexandra puts both arms and legs around me, and her con snaps back to hug Johnny... ... .

So far as I know, Alexandra wasn't screwed at Charenton's party. Certainly she doesn't act as though she had been ... . from the way she takes the fucking I hand out you would say she'd been alone for weeks. There's the possibility, of course, that her goblins haven't been screwing her so well as she would like to have me believe ... . the spirit may not be sufficient to the needs of the flesh ... .

She wiggles like a hula girl with chiggers in her skirt ... grabs her teats and sticks them in my face, begging me to suck them ... . She's panting like an overheated steam engine, and I expect the safety valve to go off at any second. I grab her ass, give it a pinch and spread the cheeks ... she almost throws both of us off the bed when I begin tickling the fuzz around her rectum.

 

My God, the amount of hair that cunt carries around her tail is astonishing!

Before you can find her rectum you have to go through that forest with a lantern

... If she ever got crab lice she'd be host to them for the rest of her life ... you have to take a machete and tear a path through her hair when you go exploring back there, blaze a trail on the way so you can find the route out again ... I manage to get to her rectum finally, and I poke around until I am sure of the place to wiggle my fingers into... . Alexandra squeals as though I were scalping her, but I have three fingers up her ass anyway... . . From the way it feels back there. I could put three more in without anything very awful happening... .

Suddenly my cock is pouring jism into her womb... ... Alexandra takes the hot shock of it in her stride, squeezes her legs tighter around me ... and she's corning too... . We lie wrapped into each other and I wring my fingers up her rectum each time that I feel her wriggle ... She's never going to stop coming ... . and neither am I... ...

One screwing isn't enough for Alexandra tonight. She rests long enough for me to have a bit more of her brandy ... . then she's back again catting for another lay. She lies up against me and rubs her mop over my legs, diddles her fig against my bush, covering me and the whole room with that hot, sweet stink which pours out of her. She's so juicy that when she rubs her brush on my belly it feels as though she were daubing at me with a brush full of paint ... then, as they dry, each single hair curls stiffly, much as though they had been starched...

.

She demands to know, Alexandra does, if she's not a better lay than Tania ...

That little play-with-herself, Alexandra calls her. Why would a man like me want to screw Tania as much as I did? For boys, yes, she could understand how a young boy like Peter would like to fuck Tania ... and she wouldn't really mind so much if Tania would let herself be fucked by youngsters of her own age. But all this filthiness with grown men ... it's not good for the men and it's certainly not good for Tania. Whatever will the girl do when she grows up? What will she find to satisfy her then? But to get back to her original question ... isn't she better, a grown woman with everything possible to satisfy a man's passion, than that little flat-chested cricket, that little puppy cunt, that... ...

 

How in Hell can a man answer a thing like that? Tania is in a class by herself

... you can't judge her by ordinary standards because there's nothing like her anywhere. I answer by asking Alexandra why she is attracted to the girl... Ah, but that's different! It's the incestuous motif which has Alexandra where the hair is short. If Tania were someone else's daughter she wouldn't have a thing to do with her ... not a thing. Ah yes, she could parade herself before Alexandra all day and all night too, and nothing whatsoever would happen. Nothing. Which, of course, is a lot of shit. It undoubtedly helps a lot to have a relationship with a cunt like Tania salted by the fact that you're related, but daughter or not, Tania would be able to climb into Alexandra's bed anytime she chose.

Alexandra goes on to review some of the high points in her misadventuring with the girl ... Tania it seems has dragged from her mother all the juicy details of the playing around that's been done with the men Tania knows... . and she's traded back a few of her own experiences. What I find most interesting, however, is the news that Canon Charenton has been putting pressure on Alexandra to turn her daughter over to him and the devil. She's been putting him off on one excuse and another... Now, of course, that's all over ... . but if I hadn't been with her tonight, Alexandra says with a shudder ... ah, that would have been the end itself... yes, that must surely have been the end... .

She's worked herself up by this time to the point where she simply has to be screwed again, and she hasn't been forgetting to do a bit for me too... My dong is hard and she's holding it between her thighs, rubbing her split peach against it.

Without either of us doing very much about the matter, my dong is worked up into the open trap... . I'd be quite contented to lie there and lazily fuck away at Alexandra, but that's not at all in her line, and certainly not what she wants right now. She becomes enthusiastic ... . at last she climbs on top of me and shows me how she thinks it ought to be done.

I can think of any number of things which are not so pleasant as that ... lying comfortably on your back while a hot and hefty bitch works over you. I don't have to do a fucking thing ... . Alexandra knows all the tricks herself, so it's not at all like trying it with some young, ignorant cunt who has to be shown how the machinery works. And she gives me a swell ride, really letting herself go, and evidently saying to Hell with her dignity. A woman really fucking you in that set-up has less dignity I suppose, than in any other position you can arrange ... .

shit, they can even be dignified about sucking your prick, but in all the bounce and flailing of an upside-clown screw ... . not a chance.

I've never yet had a woman fuck in that position without wanting to see what things looked like. If you stay on top you can screw them week in and out without having them get curious, but once you let a woman get into the saddle she begins to look around for a mirror. Alexandra's no exception ... after she's been screwing for awhile she hops off and grabs a hand glass. Then she's on again, the first peep she takes at what's happening down there almost finishes her. It shouldn't look like THAT she exclaims, but after she's watched for a few minutes she likes it better. She has, she decides, a very handsome cunt, and one that shows up very well in action... . .

She wants to watch what happens when we come, Alexandra says ... but when it does happen she's so glassy-eyed that I don't believe she has any notion of what she sees ... . .

For a few minutes after that she's quiet. She lies next to me on the bed, her legs as far apart as she can get them so that her fig will cool off a little, and wants to tell me about Charenton. It gives her a tickle to talk about it, obviously, even though she wants me to believe that she's horrified by all that now... .

Charenton's laid all the cunt in his flock, of course... . he'd be an absolute dope if he didn't ... and if anyone in his congregation has missed screwing someone else in it that's pure accident. Ah, and that horrid image! She'll never forget. She was frightened that first night, and she screamed when they carried her to it... It was a device which I probably missed ... . consecrated wine is contained in a vessel within it, and may be released through the huge member ... later in her first mass she became quite tipsy on consecrated wine.

I'm interested in knowing what she intends to do now ... is she going back to the Catholic Church? No, she doesn't believe she can ... it's as though whatever drew her to mysticism in the first place had been all used up. She doesn't know what she will do herself... . but do I think it would be a good plan to have Tania entered in a convent?

The thought of Tania in a convent is simply too absurd. She'd corrupt the Mother Superior herself, that baggage ... in two weeks the heads would have a class of cunt suckers on their hands and there wouldn't be a candle in the joint that didn't smell funny when it was lighted ... Alexandra sighs and agrees with me ... but what she will do, she doesn't know ... . she should have sucked their father's cock those times, she says.

She wants to be fucked again, finally, and to get my prick up to where it ought to be she lets me put it into her mouth again. It takes her a long time to pull John Thursday out of his trance, but she's determined, and after she's done everything almost but swallow him alive he begins to stretch again. Then, when I have something to give her a respectable fuck with, Alexandra gets an idea which isn't the best of all possible ideas. I try to warn her, but before I can stop it, she has rubbed a few drops of brandy into her fig ... . to see if it won't make things different.

She becomes absolutely crazy as soon as that stuff touches her. She drops my cock from her mouth, jumps completely over me, and begins to hop around the room, howling. She has both hands pressed over her bush ... she fans herself with a handkerchief showers herself with powder, and even, for some unexplained reason, climbs up on a chair and jumps off . . If it were Tania or even Anna, it wouldn't be so funny ... but Alexandra's such a husky, placid-looking cunt that it's hilarious.

At last she jumps back onto the bed ... . if I put my prick into her, it may stop burning she thinks ... I ram my dong in and she howls louder than ever ... . all that she wants now is to get away from me as quickly as possible. I simply set my cock in deeper and hang on ... I fuck her until I'm dizzy, and the louder she squeals the better I like it... .

Coming into a bitch who's making such a Hell of a rumpus as Alexandra is might be even more fun if it wasn't like trying to ride a bicycle on a catboat in a squall. When I've finished pouring jism into her, Alexandra's still trying to kick her way through the bedsprings, but I still have my dick up her tail. Suddenly, without giving her any hint as to what I'm about to do, I begin to piss into her.

Alexandra's raving as soon as she knows what's happening ... I'm scalding her, her womb's bursting, it's deranging her internal anatomy ... . but she loves it, that bitch, and suddenly she stops squealing and flings both of her arms around me, begging me to do it some more. She's going to come ... . she wants me to make it squirt hard... Inside her belly I can hear something gurgling... .

They're crazy, these bitches ... . every fucking one of them... No matter what you do to them, it's fine, it's marvellous... Do you want them to bring you their sister, or their daughter or their grandmother? Wonderful! Do you want to beat the ass off them? Ah, they'll rush right out and buy a whip! They're grateful for everything, and anything you do to them is fun. There's no other explanation ... .

all cunts are queer in the head... ... .

 

Ernest is in bed with a bottle, and about his head he has a garland of withered rose leaves. He puts down his Flato and he calls for the dancing girls as I enter the bedroom, but no one appears.

"Hmmm ... . no dancing girls," Ernest says. "I must be getting over it. " And he takes a swig from the bottle.

He doesn't remember exactly how long he's been drunk, Ernest tells me, but he'll know as soon as he goes back to work. They're very good at keeping track of those things at the office. He does remember, however, why he's drunk ... . a neat triumph for Ernest. He got drunk out of sympathy for a friend, and then the friend made up with his wife and left him to carry on alone.

"He took me home to dinner," Ernest tells me, "and guess what we walked in on? That cunt of his was there being laid, and not only that, but right on the table that we were supposed to eat dinner on! Did you ever hear of anything like that? Right on the very table with her ass bare and this guy whamming it into her: ..." Thinking about the guy whamming it into her agitates Ernest so that he has to have another drink. This time he remembers to offer me one, and he also offers to braid me a wreath if I'd like it.

"Let us dispute," says Ernest. "You will contend, if you please, that marriage is a noble and holy institution, while I will hold the opposite view." He props himself up on one elbow and drags the sheets around him like a toga, but before the argument can begin Ernest has forgotten what it was to be about. "What do you think about a cunt like that?" he demands. "Wouldn't you think she'd have the decency to do it so that her husband could at least bring someone home without being embarrassed? But no ... . there she was, wiggling and squealing like a pig on butchering day and this cocky frog ramming his dong right up to her ears.

And me, Alf, just like always, I walked into the room first. So what was there to do? How did I know that it wasn't the regular thing: that maybe we weren't supposed to line up behind this guy, and get a turn, too? How about that, Alf? All I could do was wait to see what happened; if her husband took off his pants, too, then everything was right and maybe later we'd have dinner, after we laid her.

Listen! Did you ever have a bozo showing off a new radio, or a car maybe, and right in the middle it wouldn't work? What does he say? He always says, 'that's funny, it never did that before.' And that's what this guy kept saying only he said

'she' all the while that we were drinking our dinner of rye whiskey... . ."

Ernest is at last obliged to pause for breath; then he begins aria da capo, and tells it all over again.

"Then when we got drunk, we found some cunt, and everything was all fixed up for us to lay her ... only then what do you suppose happened, Alf? This guy decided that he can give his wife a Hell of a lot better screw than this frog who was fucking her, and he tells me he is going home to show her, And he doesn't even invite me to go along! Jesus, wouldn't you think, after he'd invited me to dinner and all, he'd at least do that much? But he just swallowed a couple of those peptonic pills they sell you at bars and goes off by himself... . That just goes to show you how a cunt can ruin a fine man..."

Somewhere on his way Ernest has picked up a batch of fancy photographs.

They're on his bureau, and while I'm listening to his story for the third time I start to look them over. They're really high-class stuff, with cunts that look like cunt instead of a bunch of aunties trying to be cute ... . and right in the first half dozen ... . there's Anna. I let out a howl, and Ernest has to see what I've found ...

he didn't even know he had the things.

Well, it's a small world, Ernest says, looking them over and finding a couple more of Anna ... that must be why he bought them, because she was in the lot.

And Anna's another bitch on horseback, he tells me. Do I think that Anna's going to do me or anyone else of us any good? Anna's not going to do anyone any good, least of all Anna.

When I leave I have the pictures of Anna in my pocket and a large part of Ernest's quart of rye in my stomach. Ernest has taken another pint from his bureau and he's still talking, calling for his dancing girls again. I walk down to the office, and, since there's never anything for me to do there, write a couple of letters in order to make it look as though I were working for a half hour or so.

Then I sail out again to see what I can find.

Just as I'm going out to the street I bump into Arthur. He's been looking for me, he says, and he's so excited that he can hardly talk. Before he can tell me what it's all about he has to have a drink, and he can't even wait to cross the street to a place where I have credit ... . we go into the bar next to the office, where my credit has been exhausted for almost a month.

It develops that our little friend Charlotte has been to call on Arthur. He wasn't at home, but she left a note ... . an invitation for both of us to drop in and see her. Arthur is shitting his pants over it, and he insists on reading the note aloud so that I'll be certain not to miss the good parts.

"Imagine that little cunt coming up to my joint," he stutters. "Jesus, I can't imagine what they thought when the bell rang and she was standing there at the door... . They'll think I'm nuts at my place. Look, read this part again ... what does that mean if it isn't an invitation to come around there and throw a fuck her way? Jesus, didn't I tell you that she was a bitch? Didn't I?" He gulps down his pernod and calls for another. "Look, Alf, how's your nerve today? Do you have your nerve? My God, I haven't got the guts to go there and face her alone ... . but if you were there it would be all right..." He looks anxiously at me to see how I'm taking all this. "Listen, Alf, I'll tell you what ... . you can try her first. We'll both go up there and you can screw her and then I'll hop on ... Christ, I didn't have to let you know anything about this, you know ... . I could have just gone up there and laid her myself. But that's not my way Alf ... . Only, did you ever hear of such a thing in your life? Who the fuck ever heard of a midget who was a bitch? Hell, I never ever thought about the sex life of a midget before... ."

I'm not at all sure that Arthur isn't talking through his hat. He's reading a lot more out of that note than was written into it, and the only thing that is definitely suggested is a drink. But I have faith in Arthur's hunches, if not his reasoning, and the midget business is so crazy that it's appealing. In short, we make the call... . .

 

Charlotte looks like a doll when she lets us in ... but they don't include all of what she has on a doll. If she's surprised to see both of us she doesn't show it ...

. She's so glad that we've come, she says ... she didn't know what to do with herself today. Then, just as we've settled ourselves into a couple of chairs, in comes a man-sized police dog who shows every intention of eating both Arthur and myself.

If we weren't in such immediate danger of being devoured it would be funny to see the girl wrestling with that brute. She grabs him by the collar, and without half trying he lifts her off her feet and swings her around. But Charlotte bats him on the nose, tells him that his manners are deplorable, and he quiets down almost immediately. If he even so much as barked at her he'd knock her down, but he puts his tail between his legs and slinks out.

Charlotte says that she wants to shut him up, so she runs out after him, wiggling her tiny ass as efficiently as any full-sized woman. Arthur whispers to me ... there's no question about why she keeps an animal like that, is there? If she kept a toy bull or one of those nasty hairless Mexican things it would be just for a pet ... but, Jesus, did I see the dong that son-of-a-bitch had?

After the second drink there's no question about it... . . Charlotte's catting to be fucked. There's not a hell of a lot of difference between the way she acts and the way any other cunt would do it, either. Everything Arthur and I say is very amusing, and sometimes it's amusing when we don't intend it to be.

That little cunt! She's fascinating, sitting up in a chair that's a mile too big for her, crossing her tiny legs and drawing her skirt up to give us a peep at what's under there... . . But how the fuck to get a midget into bed with you is something I've never had to worry about before, and I don't know what to do next. I look at Arthur; Arthur grins back at me. We go on drinking Charlotte's very good scotch

... . she's taking shots down with water; and it shouldn't take many of them to do something to her... .

The liquor hits her very suddenly ... one minute she's all right ... the next she's completely up to the ears in it. I don't realize what's happened until I've gotten up to pour her another... I'm leaning over the chair with my back to Arthur; and before I know what's going on she has reached for my dong and grabbed the front of my pants. It's an amazing feeling ... . those baby fingers tickling around your fly ... I simply stand there and let her fiddle with the thing.

She pats it and strokes it the way some women handle a piece of fur, holding her glass in the other hand and smiling as though we had a secret. But we haven't any secret for very long ... . Arthur gets a squint at what's going on, and be lets out a howl.

"Hey what about me?" he wants to know ... and nobody thinks he's asking for another shot.

That little cunt doesn't even stop playing with me. She has such small hands that she can put them into my fly without so much as opening a button, and she shows how it's done while she turns her doll's smile on Arthur... .

"You didn't come over to me," she says.

It looks as though Arthur had forgotten all about our agreement. He's off the couch and sitting on the other arm of Charlotte's chair in as fast a move as I've ever seen him make.

"Don't pay any attention to that guy," he tells her. "Here feel this ... Isn't that a beauty?" He takes the glass from her and places her hand over his fly. "You don't want to fool around with anything he's got... Anyway you never can tell anything about a guy like that... . Where's he been in the past week? Do you know? Does anybody know? Hell, probably even he doesn't know... . Here ... just squeeze it, like, and see how big it's getting."

Charlotte giggles and gives us both a squeeze. He's being silly, she says ...

they're both too big... Can't we see that she's just a very little girl with very small ambitions? And Arthur immediately wants to see her ambitions. It's the first time he's heard it called by that name, he says. Arthur must be drunk ... . he thinks he's funny.

But Charlotte won't show us her ambition ... she'll show us all around it though, so that we can get some idea of the size... . . She pulls her dress up and shows us her dainty thighs... . Arthur says that's not enough, and he and I have found one point to agree on. So Charlotte holds her legs together and shows us what she's like all the way up to her pants. And those pants are something to remember once you've seen them ... they must be made of fairy wings ... they look lighter than the sheerest silk stockings ... I'm afraid to touch them ... they'd fall to pieces under my hands. But her thighs look more substantial ... I have to get a feel of them, and she doesn't seem to mind... .

Charlotte stops diddling our pricks and places her two forefingers on her thighs, up in her crotch. Do we see? That's how wide she is there. How could she have anything big enough for what we have in mind? And as for the other way ...

. it runs from here ... oh, someplace down underneath. She holds up one hand, measuring with her thumb and finger ... . no bigger than that...

"Listen ... how about letting us have a feel of it?" Arthur says, "There's something I have to find out about that thing... Here ... you can feel my cock some more ... I feel you and you feel me, see?" He's talking to Charlotte as though she were a child and couldn't understand things very well. "Maybe it is too small, like you say, but there's something else I have to find out about it...

She won't let him put his hands under her pants... . . He bites his fingernails, and he'd start runs, she says. So she'll just have to take her pants off and she hopes we won't mind... We wouldn't care to look the other way, would we? No?

Well... She pushes her little high-heeled pumps into the chair cushion and lifts her ass... . I hold her dress up and keep her belly bare while she squirms out of the things... .

Arthur and I look at each other ... she does have hair. She sports a swell little bush down there ... I grab for it, and Arthur's too late... . Charlotte settles back and plays with his dong while I find out what that fuzzy mop is hiding... .

It's a perfect little cunt ... and not so fucking little either. It's a hell of a way from being full-size, but it's nothing that makes you think of kiddie-kars, either.

It's really smaller than Tania's, I suppose, and it's softer, but the hair around it is denser and longer ... It's a woman's cunt, all right, pint-sized ... I run a finger into the split and squeeze it into the lips ... and when I glance up at Charlotte to see how she's taking this, the little cunt winks at me... . .

Do I think she's nice? Someday I'll find some cunt who doesn't ask me that question while I'm feeling her up, and the chances are ten to one that when that happens I'll find out that she's swallowed her false teeth and choked to death... .

It's like asking if you think breathing is nice ... a cunt's a cunt and they're all nice... But Charlotte is really an exceptional bitch... I don't mind telling her what a swell piece of machinery I think it is. You have to admire it, just as you'd admire a very tiny, but perfect, watch... .

Arthur is going nuts waiting to get his paws on Charlotte's bonne-bouche.

She's opened his fly now, and she has his dick out in her hands, but he's not half so much interested in that as he is in what is going on down below. I'm patting Charlotte's behind... It's as soft as a goosefeather pillow... I hope she doesn't bruise easily, because I can't keep from pinching it.

Arthur's amazed when he takes over. The first thing that comes to his mind is to ask if she has any pictures of it... . . She could make a fortune, he advises her, just by selling pictures of it, maybe with a measuring rule in the picture to show how big it is in millimeters... In the meantime, Charlotte's opening my fly and taking John Thursday out for the afternoon air. She sighs ... . she thinks he's wonderful ... . Charlotte may be a squirt but she has a full grown itch under her tail.

Arthur wants to take Charlotte over to the couch and undress her... .

"It'll be all right," he assures her. "Hell, that's a pretty big cunt ... . I'll bet I've fucked smaller ones lots of times. Look, I don't have such a big prick anyway ...

in fact, when you really get down to measurements, it isn't big at all; it just looks that way at first. Ask Alf, he'll tell you."

All this time he's trying to rub up with something that looks like a piece of red fire hose... But it all sounds perfectly logical to little Charlotte. She looks us both over; she isn't even able to get her fingers all the way around my dong, but she nods her head... Well, perhaps... And Arthur says that if we can't fuck we can lie around and play with each other... . .

Charlotte lies at full length across the couch. She's so tiny that her feet don't come to the edge of it after we've taken her shoes off ... . Arthur can hide her shoe completely simply by closing his fist over it. Jesus, the sex that's wrapped up in that small package! She has enough for any normal cunt, and it all has to be packed in, crammed into that hot, tiny body... . You can feel it oozing out when you touch her... . .

Most of the midgets I've seen were like Shetland ponies . . round and fat and pretty shapeless. But just as you'll see, now and then, one of those animals that look just as clean and well-proportioned as a horse, with a head that fits the rest of them, this cunt is a real woman in miniature. She has the shape ... . and a swell one, too ... and she even uses her body the same way as a woman of twice her size. Before we've gone very far I'm beginning to feel too big and too clumsy.

She has wonderful teats... They're so small that when you put your hand over one of them it's hidden, but for her size they're regular showpieces. There's not a chance in the world of taking a fuck between them ... Arthur's cock looks like a baseball bat when he tries it later... . But it's an entirely new sensation to suck some bitch's bubs by putting the whole works in your mouth ... . .

Arthur's found something to bitch about... He wishes he had his Kodak with him. He doesn't want to take dirty pictures, he tells Charlotte ... all he wants is just one picture of her on the couch next to him, so you can see the cock he's got and what she's got to take it with. Charlotte is peeved by that... . What kind of a girl does he think she is, anyway? But that doesn't keep her from grabbing his dick as soon as he has his clothes off... Arthur and I lay side by side and Charlotte sits up between us, playing with us both... .

It's easy to get a finger into that split under her ass. Charlotte is as juicy as anyone else, and it's no trouble at all when you do it right... . And she likes to play that finger game... . . She lies back and spreads her legs and tells us to go right ahead.

Arthur sits sniffing his finger... He starts to say something a couple of times, breaks off and looks first at Charlotte's fig and then at me. What he's thinking about is obvious, but Arthur's being fastidious... . Finally he has jacked up his nerves ... he bends over and takes a good sniff of Charlotte. She closes her legs around his neck and rubs her figlet in his face. Arthur looks up at me and says that I can go fuck myself if I don't like it... He runs his tongue into her conillon and begins to suck it ... . I lie beside Charlotte and play with her bubs... .

She's a doll that I could play with all day. But Jean Jeudi can't appreciate things in abstract ... there's just one idea in that hairless dome of his, and you can't get it out. Johnny wants to fuck and it's useless to argue. But I have to wait until Arthur takes his nose from under Charlotte's ass ... she still has her legs clenched around his neck, and they're both having a swell time. It tastes sweet as a Texas banana melon, Arthur says ... that's something he's picked up from Ernest, but after a few months here all Americans begin to talk that way. There's not one in Paris who doesn't pretend to know the United States as completely as his own face... .

Charlotte wants to know if we thought anything like this would happen when we came here. I give Arthur the sign to keep his trap closed, but he goes on like a dope and tells her ... we had it all figured out that I was going to fuck her first.

That makes two strikes on Arthur; she's sore at both of us, but mostly at Arthur.

She makes him stop sucking her cuntlet, but it's all right for me to go on playing with her... It takes another shot to put her back in a good humor.

Arthur goes on prying ... you can't blame him for wanting to know things, but he hasn't a hell of a lot of tact. Charlotte finally asks him to get them all off his chest ... she'll tell him what he wants to know, and from then on he can either stop treating her like a freak or get the hell out. I agree with her about six hundred and seventy-five percent. I'd have thrown both of us out long ago... .

Arthur's first question is about cunt, of course. He wants to know if all the small people ... a term which he thinks is very delicate ... have cunts like Charlotte. It seems that they haven't. Some of them have cunts as big as your hat and some of them have little slits without a bit of hair on them. The men are the same way, Charlotte says, and the big problem is to find a good fit... . .

Then Arthur wants to know if Charlotte has ever been screwed by a full sized man before. She won't answer that one, and I can tell by the look in Arthur's eye that he's going to ask about the police dog next... Sure enough before I can stop him he's popped it out. I grab Charlotte before she can get sore and tell Arthur to go chase himself into the other room and ask the dog... . . Shit, he'd be asking her if she ever sucked off the rubber man next... ...

Something of what he's doing seems to squeeze into Arthur's noggin. He takes a shot glass and moseys out of the room and it isn't until he's telling Sid about it a couple of days later that I learn that he's just gone off to take a look at the bathroom to see if the crapper is half size too... ... . .

Charlotte seems to like the way my dong smells ... . she lies with her face in my mop and keeps sniffing at it while she tickles my balls. Finally she puts her tongue out and takes a taste of the end ... . . she opens her mouth as wide as she can to let me try to put it in ... we're just able to make it ... . she's more of a cocksucker than a grown cunt could be ... . no grown cunt would ever find a prick that much too big for her to handle. Charlotte can't be very delicate about sucking your cock, not when it's almost choking her.

When she gets under me and spreads her legs to be screwed I simply can't do it at first. I just lie and look at her until she begins to wave her legs and whimper for it. Then I'm between them, and she has one tiny thigh on each side of me while John T. goes nuzzling against her cuntlet. It's like trying to screw a child ...

. . shit, it's worse than trying to fuck a child because Charlotte has a real itch for it, and if it won't work she's going to be nuts... . .

I'm afraid that I'll pop her wide open like a ripe peach ... but my dong goes in without a squeak from Charlotte. I try to look at it ... . it's bulging like a squeezed balloon when it's fitted into her ... . it must be bulging inside her too.

She bites my nipples and tells me to fuck her ... she's so hot now that she would tell me that even if I had a cock twice as big as this one... . .

Once she's opened up there's nothing to it. She may never be the same again; her cuntlet may never be quite so pretty and perfect as it was before we started, but that does not matter so much as having it work ... a pretty little figlet is not much better to boast about if you can't fuck with it ... . I give it to her up to the ears, and she begins to ask for more whoopee. You'd think she'd be scared, a tiny cunt like that ... but not a bit of it. She's all bitch, what there is of her, and if she's afraid of anything it's the possibility that she won't get all the screwing she wants.

Where in hell she's putting my cock once it's in her figlet, I don't know. If it isn't coming up her gullet now, it never will ... . so I grab her by that fat bunch of ass, turn her on her side, and give it to her the same as I would anybody else.

There isn't room for so much as a hair to get into her ... I've got her cunt stretched so far that you couldn't lay a pin between the edge of it and the edge of her rectum. And who the Hell is going around laying pins there anyway? I've got her ... . I've got her good, and she's taking a fucking that whoever made her never intended her to have... . Suddenly she begins to squeak ... she kicks my sides with her feet ... . She's coming, and she shows me that she can fuck, too ... .

Charlotte is one of those cunts who seem to be able to go on coming, once they've begun it, for just as long as you'll screw them. The couch is having the stuffing kicked out of it ... . for a little girl Charlotte can raise an uncommon amount of hell. She raises her little voice along with her baby ass and lets go with both of them as hard as she can. It's a good thing the concierge is deaf... . he'd be in here looking for a murder if he heard this bitch howl. She grabs her teats and seems to simply lay them in my hands to be squeezed ... . the dog begins to bark and raise the roof from wherever she has him tied up ... Charlotte has juice in her thighs and juice on her ass and even on her belly ... . I must have opened up a new spring in her cunt... . .

John Thursday hiccoughs a couple of times. He's not used to such cramped quarters, and he doesn't seem able to make up his mind. But then he lets go ... .

and I'm fucking Charlotte so hard that she doesn't even squeak any more. She opens her mouth, but no sounds come out. I'm made aware that I've got a load of alcohol in my system ... the furniture swings around the room in a slow gavotte.

Arthur comes back balancing his dong in front of him like a pole. I'm sitting in the center of the couch, trying to keep it quiet so it won't teeter so much, and Charlotte is lying on her back, playing with her bush. As soon as she sees that erect cock, Charlotte jumps off the couch and runs to Arthur. Fickle little cunt!

Both arms go as far around his ass as she can get them and she hugs herself up to his crotch. She's just tall enough so that when she stands flatfooted and looks down, the end of his cock touches her lips... . She kisses Arthur's belly and the bush that grows halfway up it, and then she stands there and opens her mouth.

She simply stands there and lets him put it in.

Arthur must have been playing with himself while he was out. Either that or he's losing his control, because Charlotte hasn't been sucking his prick for more than a minute before he spills. One instant Charlotte is gnawing away at him as hard as she can, and they're both happy; in another they're ecstatic, and Charlotte is trying to swallow a pint of jism in one gulp. I get the impression of watching a moving picture that's been speeded up several times... .

Charlotte comes dashing back to me... . Would I like to have my prick sucked, she wants to know ... . and before I can answer she's climbed over me and has it in her mouth. She'd like to have me suck her figlet too ... she throws her ass almost in my face, and I lie staring up between her legs. But I never was attracted to a cunt with jism in it ... I bite her thighs instead, and she's almost as happy. She slobbers and coos over my prick until it's too big to be cooed over... .

 

One of my balls is all that one of her tiny hands can hold. She likes to squeeze them for some reason ... . perhaps she thinks that she'll get more jism out of them that way. So with one hand she squeezes my balls and with the other she tries to choke John T. into being nice to her. In the meantime I'm playing with her ass. She has a little rectum that's not half as big as a dime, and I find out that she likes to have it tickled. Arthur is interested in it ... he looks it over and thinks that it would be nice to give Charlotte a cock in there, but there's not a chance... .

Those baby fingers are driving me nuts... And that tight, doll's mouth ... Jean Jeudi wants to show his stuff again, and I don't keep him waiting. It's the damnedest feeling, letting your jism come into that cunt's little lips and watching her swallow it... . .

I've just finished with her, and Arthur is giving her a feeling up, when there's suddenly the most startling racket I've ever heard. Then that damn police dog comes scrambling in from the other room, trailing a leash and acting as though he intended to finish up a job he should have done earlier. He's as big as a house, and he makes straight for the couch. Arthur and I both tumble off in opposite directions, but it's not us he's after. He lands squarely on Charlotte and pins her down.

Arthur grabs the first thing that's handy ... the bottle of Scotch ... but the dog isn't eating Charlotte after all ... . he's only raping her. She can't do a thing ... he knows how to handle her, and he's really being as gentle as he can under the circumstances. And Charlotte's not being afraid of him ... she's only dreadfully embarrassed.

"Go on and drag him off," I suggest to Arthur. "He won't hurt you much."

Arthur politely asks me to go to hell ... he's not going near that son-of-a-bitch.

And in the meantime, the dog has managed to get the end of a very red and juicy looking dong between Charlotte's legs.

"It looks like he's going to go in," Arthur says. "Hey, Alf, do you suppose we ought to ask him to have a drink with us after it's all over? I'll bet that bastard has some experiences that would be worth hearing."

"Please ... . go ... . away... ." Charlotte gasps. "Jacques, oh, Jacques, don't do that! Go away, you wicked, wicked dog."

 

"Are you going to sit there and let that animal take the meat away from you?" I ask Arthur. "Aren't you going to do anything?"

"I'm going to sit here and take this thing in," Arthur tells me. "Did you ever see anything like this before? Well ... . in a whorehouse show, maybe. But you never saw a dog actually rape anybody... By Jesus, if you think I'm going to get that horse mad at me, you're crazy ... . he's bigger than me."

Charlotte keeps asking us, whenever she has a breath to spare, to get the hell out. The dog has a good grip on her now, his cock's in, and he's fucking her a mile a minute... At last she can't do anything but spread her legs for him and let him have it... . .

"Look dope," I tell Arthur after we have watched for a few minutes, "that thing is going to be through in a couple of minutes, then what's going to happen? I'm telling you he has a mean look in his eye... . After he's through fucking her he's going to be hungry as hell. I don't give a fuck in hell what you do, but I'm getting away from him, beginning as of two minutes ago."

I sneak over to the couch to get my clothes. Arthur thinks it over for a few, seconds and then he dresses too. We manage to grab off another shot of the scotch, and we try to say good-bye to Charlotte... But she doesn't hear us ... she has her arms around that pooch of hers and she's loving him back. I think women are such charming people when you get to know them... . .

Arthur and I don't have much to say about our visit when we get on the street.

We walk about half a block and then Arthur grabs my arm.

"My God, Alf, look at the size of that bitch, will you? How'd you like to try laying her? Boy, you'd get lost under that ass ... that's the kind I want in my old age, to keep me warm nights... ."

She looks like a big cunt. But when I close one eye and look at her again I see that she's just about five foot three ...

 

Anna is depressed. The old geezer who keeps her is getting to be a pain in the ass, she tells me, and she doesn't know exactly what to do about it. He gives her plenty of dough, and all that, but he's still a pain in the ass. We're out having lunch and she reads me the record.

 

First of all he wants to meet her girl friends. He thinks he's a very gay old buck, and first thing, as soon as Anna's introduced him to some cunt she knows, he puts on the stuff and wants to get the girl in bed. Which would be all right, I suppose, except for the fact that they all want to get some of his cash, of course, and that makes him sore. He thinks that Anna tips them off and that he's being played for a sucker ... he gets peeved when he finds that he's not getting any free cunt... .

Then there are a couple of other little matters... . He expects a new and better Arabian Nights for his money. Anna has to tell him stories about her sex life, and she's going nuts trying to think up new adventures. The other night, for instance, when the boys dumped her out at his place... He was absolutely delighted about that... Anna says he almost hopped out of his nightie as soon as he saw her, because there wasn't much question about what had been happening to her. So he fucked her, of course ... it must make him feel that it's really that last one he gives her that finishes her off ... and not only then, but afterward, he had to know all about what went on... He kept her awake for hours trying to find out just how this was done and that was done, and Anna was so full of liquor and so much fucked out that all she wanted was to go to sleep. And when she simply couldn't stay awake any longer he was sore... . . if she could stay awake while all those things happened, why couldn't she stay awake long enough to have some fun with him?

Then when he has some business acquaintance in, Anna's supposed to put on another act. He likes to show her off, to let people see what a swell cunt he's got, and that's all right, but Anna's supposed to show everybody that she's got a continental case of itchy tail ... . and all for him. So she has to slink around and show her shape and act like a bitch in the spring, rubbing up against him, and letting him feel her ass and maybe giving him a feel around his balls now and then. Then, when this has gone on for awhile, she calls him from another room and he excuses himself and struts out to play with her for a half an hour ... .

sometimes he even manages to get it up and screw her, but usually all he accomplishes is to take half her clothes off and rumple her up. Then ... back they trot, together, and maybe he's even buttoning his pants when they go into the room, and Anna looks ... and is supposed to act ... it's though she's just been through the washing machine... .

Now he has another marvellous plan. He'd like Anna to bring some big-cocked young bozo in and take it from him, let him give her the whole works, complete, while her daddy dumplings hides in a closet and peeks out at them. Anna refuses absolutely. What he'd actually do, Anna says, is hide in the closet and play with himself until he'd seen it all and then hop out playing the outraged lover.

Because he'd be in his own house, Anna says, he'd probably have enough courage to slap the other fellow in the face, and he might even take a shot at him

... even if he hit him, a French court would back him up on the defense of honor gag. It sounds fantastic, but Anna says that I wouldn't think so if I knew this bastard.

While we're having our coffee I flash the pictures that Ernest bought someplace. Anna almost pisses her pants when she sees them ... she might have known those friends of hers would do something like that. They wanted to take them just for fun ... . . well, just for fun she'll cut their balls off if she meets them again. There are people who should never see those, she says ... . but by now every half-wit in Paris is diddling himself silly over them ... . . Anna sees the whole city passing them from hand to hand and pointing her out on the street.

However, this ought to make her meal ticket happy for awhile ... . this is just the sort of thing he likes... .

Raoul runs into us just as we're about to leave. Since he has something to say to me, we stay for a liqueur. Raoul is a bit shy about getting it off his chest while Anna's there, so she takes a skip to the can to give us a chance to talk... ...

Raoul's sister-in-law is back in Paris now, and he's fixed things up to pay for those Spanish lessons I gave him. Raoul gave her a line about me, fixed it all, and she was quite reasonable about it. I don't know what he could have told her, but whatever it was must have been pretty good ... she doesn't know me from Adam, but on Raoul's recommendation she's willing to pass out a free fuck.

Raoul hopes that someday he may be able to go to America and sell vacuum cleaners... . .

It wouldn't be so good for me to go to her house, Raoul says. Too risky, and besides, she might not want me to know where she lives. That suits me ... I'd just as soon she didn't know where I live either ... at least not until I get a look at her and find out what she's like. So we arrange a meeting place ... corner rue Cuvier and the quai St. Bernard, eight o'clock tomorrow night.

"But if there's some old bag waiting there," I tell Raoul, "I'm just going to turn around and leave her there. We're not agreeing that I have to fuck her, now... .

What we're agreeing is that she has to fuck me if I like her... ."

"She's not a bag ... she's nice, Alf. Wait until you see her ... She'll be a nice fuck, you see if she isn't... . My brother, he still thinks she's a nice cunt, and he's married to her...

"Does she know my name? Maybe she thinks I'm rich or something ... what the fuck did you tell her that she's so ready to hand herself over to me?"

"Ah, I told her, Alf ... I fixed it up all nice. She does not think you're rich or anything... . I just told her your first name. But she thinks you're wonderful... . I told her lots of good shit about you. Just fuck her good, that's all she wants from you. Anyway, maybe I have a little something on her, see Alf? Maybe there's something she wouldn't want my brother to know about... . It's a little thing about the groceryman, perhaps ... maybe he brings some of the groceries without ever putting them on the bill... . .

"I don't care about what she does with the grocer ... what's she going to do with me? I don't want to get into any mess..."

"She won't get you into any mess, Alf. She's a nice girl. I ought to know. She goes to church ..."

"Is she a cocksucker?"

"Sure, she's a cocksucker. She's a nice girl I'm telling you. She goes to church."

 

Anna comes back and Raoul runs along, for Anna and I are going visiting... .

 

Anna's two girl friends are not at home when we arrive at their place, but they have hung a note on the door asking us to walk in ... . for they'll be right back.

So, while we're waiting we sit down and Anna wants to see the pictures again.

Oh, it's really awful, she says, to think of those being scattered all over Paris ... .

and the lord only knows where else. She sits shaking her head and licking her chops over them until I can't stand it any longer... . . all she's doing is working up an itch under her ass, and I know of a fuck of a lot better ways of doing that than looking at dirty pictures of yourself ... .

Anna keeps telling me that we shouldn't do it ... but she doesn't do anything to stop us, and pretty soon we're on the couch playing with each other. I have her pants down and her ass bare; she has my dong out and is combing my brush ...

and in walk the two cunts. Young cunts, too ... they might be around twenty.

Everything's very chummy right from the start. With an introduction like that it couldn't be anything else. Anna manages to get John T. put away after some fumbling, but nothing can be done about her pants. At last she stands up, hoists her skirt to full mast, and pulls them up to her ass again. I'm introduced to the cunts who turn out to be Americans ... one named Jean and the other with a regular Lesbian tag... Billie.

Jean is a little blonde cunt who must buy all her clothes a size too small ...

she just manages to fit all of her shape into them. Billie has the shape too, but with her it's a tailored suit and a necktie. Later Anna tells me that Billie has some money and Jean hasn't, so Billie takes care of the bills and Jean spreads her legs at the right times.

Jean is just as hot as she looks. Since everyone else is standing, I have to stand too, hard or not, and Jean stares at my fly as though she expected a jack-in-the-box to come popping out of it. She'd like to know, she says, if that thing she thought she saw is real or if she is imagining things. Anna tells her that it's very real, and asks if she would like to see it again. Jean says she thinks she'll wait awhile... She smiles and winks at me... .

I don't know why we came here in the first place ... Anna told me that I was going to meet two of her friends, but it looks as though we came to play with each other. Billie shows off a couple of books she illustrated ... for some reason it appears that Lesbians can draw better pictures of people fucking than anyone else can draw. We go on from there. Anna takes a look at one illustration ... .

anyone who ever sucked a prick would know that the artist never did, she says.

Billie demands a demonstration, but Anna isn't bothered by that ... she drags out her postcards and shows Billie how it looks. That cunt ... . and she was pretending to be worried about them being made public!

 

We've fiddled away the better part of an hour before Jean has the nerve to say what's on her mind. Billie has been doing everything but undress her right there, and every time that Billie passes her and gives her a feel on the ass Jean turns and makes eyes in my direction... Why don't we all, Jean says, change into something more comfortable, or is everybody going to beat around the bush all afternoon?

"Every time she sees a man she wants to undress," Billie says. "I can't do a thing with her... ."

"She's jealous," Jean explains. "She thinks I ought to undress for her, but not for anybody else... . But I like to take my clothes off Billie ... I want to take them off right now..."

She looks over in my direction. My dong is up like a dirigible, and I've given up trying to shove it down my pant leg. I don't know what I'm supposed to do ... I've never run into a set-up like this. With any one of them I'd know how to act, but the three of them are simply too much for me. And Jean isn't the only one who's catting for a fuck ... Anna wants it, and Billie has something on her mind, though Jesus can guess what it is... .

Billie takes things out of my hands, and neatly, too. That cunt ... she couldn't bear to have her Jean looking at a pair of pants... She suddenly grabs Jean around that tough looking little middle and tosses her onto the couch like an Apache.

"Fight, you fucking little bitch," she howls when Jean begins to kick and keep her away. "So you want him to see you... Well, I'm going to undress you so he can... ."

Myself, I wouldn't want to get within three feet of those wicked looking heels of Jean's ... she acts as though she'd like to kick Billie's head off. But Billie isn't afraid of her ... . maybe they play this way a lot of times ... . shit, you can't tell anything about people like this. Anyway, it makes a nice show ... Jean pulls her skirt up to her pants so she can kick better, and she has thighs which are just as juicy as the rest of her. But Billie gets between Jean's legs, and Jean hasn't a chance from then on. Billie smacks Jean's thighs and that part of her ass that's bare, and while Jean's trying to wiggle away she jumps on top of her and goes to work.

 

It really is exciting to watch those cunts wrestling, and I'm not at all surprised when Anna comes bouncing over to sit on my lap. She had juice between her legs when I was playing with her before, but there is twice as much there now ... . I find it on her thighs almost to her knees, and she smells the way your bed smells when you've had cunt in it for three nights running ... . She grabs my dick and begins to play with it, and I don't have to take her pants down again ... she takes them down herself. .

Jean is putting up a nice battle. She knows she can't keep Billie from undressing her now, so she's putting everything she's got into stripping Billie too.

In a couple of minutes they've both lost their skirts, and they're squirming around with their asses bare before they've lost anything from the top. Even if Billie is a Lesbian, she's got a swell shape, and just knowing that she's not interested in me can't keep me from getting hot about her when I get a view of her cunt thrown at me. That bushy pink place was meant for a prick to go into ...

even if Anna weren't pestering him John T. knows it, and he'd be up and about...

.

Billie finally gets all of Jean's clothes off... and she has damn few of her own on now. She yells over for Anna and me to get a good look at her bitch. ~ Would we like to hear her squeal? She pinches her bubs. Or maybe we'd like a better look at her bonne-bouche ... so she pulls Jean's bottom around and tickles her crotch. She must want us to count the hairs ... . she begins playing with Jean's fig and runs her finger up in it ... Jean is becoming very quiet... .

Anna has her dress up to her belly and she's opening it at the top to take those marvellous teats of hers out. Billie lies across Jean and looks over at Anna's cunt while she plays with Jean's. Jean has her hand between Billie's thighs, but I can't see just what she's doing. Anna wants me to play with her teats ... she leans over and shakes them at me.

"Did that cunt ever go to bed with you?" I whisper to Anna. "She's looking at you as though she'd like to gobble you up..."

Apparently that's none of my business... . Anna shakes her finger at me and won't answer. Then she spreads her legs farther so that Billie can see her fig better ... Jean and Billie have stopped fighting, and now they lie and quietly pick the clothes from each other until they're both as bare as plucked chickens except for one little spot ... . Anna rolls down her stockings. Then she decides that it's time for her to get out of her dress. I'm not one to be out of step with the rest of the world, so I undress too. And while I'm doing that they stop, those three bitches, and do nothing but watch me ... Jean squeaks and bounces on the couch ... she wants some of that ... some of THAT! She tells the world.

Billie tells her that perhaps she'll get some if she's a good girl... Shit, I'd rather give her some if she's a bad girl... Anna has slid down between my knees and is playing with my dong, rubbing her head against it while she looks over at the two cunts on the couch. Jean suddenly grabs Billie by the ass and hugs her; they're kissing each other like high school lovers, and if you just looked at one pair of hips you'd swear that the girl was fucking. They lie there rubbing their bellies and teats and cunts together, and it's enough to make you tear your hair, seeing them go through all the motions and not getting anyplace.

"Show them what you do to me," Jean says. Jesus Christ you'd think they'd at least have some reticence about what they do to each other ... but not those bitches! Jean spreads her legs and lies on her back; Billie isn't much more self-conscious about her part ... she slips her hand down to Jean's belly and lets us in on the big secret.

Billie has a swell time playing hide and seek in Jean's bush. Most of the blonde cunts I've run into didn't have much hair around their figs or anyplace else, but Jean has all you could ask for, unless you were looking for something to stuff a mattress with. Billie wipes her face into it, bites Jean's belly, and finally she kisses her squarely in the middle of her split. Then Anna and I might just as well not be there at all ... Billie begins to suck Jean's fig, and she doesn't pay any attention to anything else... You'd think that she'd be a little less brash with strangers about ... but then, one look at a cunt in a suit like that and with that mannish walk and you'd know that she likes to sniff under a cunt's skirt ... she has it well advertised already... . .

Anna begins to play around my prick with her bubs. She keeps one eye on the couch, but she's not neglecting Jean Jeudi, either. She puts him up in that harbor between her teats and tries to rock him to sleep. Anna has teats that make better fucking than a lot of cunts that I've tried, and Johnny's happy about the whole thing ... especially since Anna bends over every couple of seconds and kisses his red, alcoholic nose... . .

Jean gets tired of having Billie lick her fig ... . after all, she probably gets that every night of her life, or all but a handful of nights every month, and I suppose you can get tired of that just as you can get tired of anything else. Jean wants to know why she can't be screwed now ... she thinks it's time that everybody changed over.

Billie agrees with her. It certainly is time to change over, she says ... and she hops up and sets her ass over Jean's face before Jean can guess what's going on.

"I know you, you bitch," Billie says, rubbing her con over Jean's nose. "You want him to think that you're a NICE girl! You wouldn't be nasty and suck a cunt, would you? Why you dirty juice licker ... what happened when my sister visited us? Yes, and on the very first night. And what did you let Annette teach you? Didn't I find you with your head under Bebe's skirt? Didn't you let Meg play with you? For that matter, who of my friends haven't you sucked? Damned few ...

I'd say. Oh, you bitch, you, don't try that game! Every time you go from here to the corner you come back either with your pants full of jism or your nose smelling of cunt..."

Anna goes on shaking her teats against my cock, but suddenly she has her mouth open and she's letting me put it in. I'm in such a hurry to get there that I almost put it all down her throat... . All I call see of Jean is her ass and her waving legs, but from the sounds that are coming out from beneath Billie's ass I can guess all that I can't actually see. Billie holds her legs close to Jean's head, like a jockey ... . she's leaning forward and she's bouncing up and down ... . all she needs now are spurs and a small quirt... .

Anna jumps up ... and just in time, for inside of another minute I would have come. She goes to the couch and I follow her. Jean has her eyes closed, and she's sucking Billie's cunt as though it were a peach ... . she's feeling Billie up while she sucks her, and whatever else, she doesn't look as though she didn't like do that stuff.

Anna has a crazy idea... She wants Billie to suck my prick. I'd never have suggested such a thing myself, but Anna has an argument ... . she's perfectly normal herself, but she's sucked cunts and she's not backward about admitting it. From what she said it sounds as though Anna might have had something to do with Billie's bonne-bouche at some time or another ... and if Anna can suck a cunt, there's no reason why Billie shouldn't be able to suck a prick.

For a Lesbian, Billie's a remarkably reasonable person. Most of those bitches would go through the ceiling if you made them a suggestion like that ... . but Billie listens very carefully and seems to consider it for a long time. At last she throws her leg over Jean ... she dismounts, that's all I can think of ... . and takes a good long look at my dong.

"You know ... I think I will do that," she says. "If it's all right with you, Alf, of course..."

If it's all right with me! Christ, I'm fairly reasonable myself ... I can't remember ever having refused an offer to have my cock sucked. I park my ass on the couch and wait to see what happens.

Billie doesn't want any coaching from the gallery. She understands this thoroughly, in theory, she says, and she won't need a bit of help ... . She kneels in front me and crawls between my thighs, and after she's looked at my prick for a second she looks up at me. She has that lovesick, moon-gazing look down perfectly ... if I wasn't pretty certain of what she is I'll swear she was nuts about my cock and the thought of getting a suck of it... Then she begins to play with it

... not because Johnny needs any playing with, but because it's part of her theory, I suppose. Then ... in he goes.

That cunt can be damn convincing ... she begins to coo and slobber over it as though there wasn't anything in the world she liked better. She puts her arms around me and hugs me, she rubs her teats against my knees, she plays with my balls ... and when she isn't actually sucking my cock she's either kissing my balls or she's shampooing my belly.

By her own standards Billie is being a particularly filthy cunt. You see them hanging around the bars sometimes, these bitches, eyeing all the cunt that comes along, and buying drinks for those they're trying to proposition ... . and I always wonder what would happen to them if they got a good fuck. But you can't get near them. Some of them are swell looking bitches, too, but they'd no more think of letting a man get under their skirts than you'd think of asking the bozo next to you on the Metro to take down his pants so you could jerk him off... I know ... I've tried to pick up some of them... .

Even Billie, if her theory is any good, must know what's going to happen if she goes on sucking my prick that way. Jean and Anna are almost pissing their pants, waiting for me to come... . I don't want to disappoint anybody ... I hold it back until my balls are turning handsprings: I want to give it to her all at once, if I can... .

Billie knew what she was talking about when she said she wouldn't need any help. I'm ready to grab the bitch's head and hold her if she gets smart when she finds her mouth full of jism, but I'm wasting my time. You'd think that she loved the stuff. She takes one look at Jean when it starts to come, and when she finds her cunt watching her, she swallows it. Jean grabs Anna around her teats, and it looks as though something interesting was about to begin there ... . but she remembers herself before Billie catches her at it... As soon as I've stopped coming, Billie grabs Jean ... but not to suck her fig, as I thought she was going to do. She puts her arms around Jean and kisses her on the mouth. They hug each other and lie running their tongues into each other's mouths ... Jean whispers to Billie again that she's a dirty perverted cock sucker.

Anna breaks into the party with the way of someone who feels that they're being left out of things. Her cunt itches, she says, and what would somebody like to do about that? Billie puts her arms around Anna and begins feeling her up ... .

pretty soon they're playing with each other's tails, and it's no surprise when Billie puts her head between Anna's thighs and starts licking that juicy trap.

Jean is behind Billie, tickling her crotch and pushing a finger up her cunt ...

Christ, with all that display of ass, I can't simply sit there and watch them fiddling around with each other. I hop in too and grab Jean... John T. isn't up to form, but that bitch knows what to do about it, she has the stuff to fix him ... she spreads her legs so that I can play with her fig, and she begins massaging my dong.

She's a hot young parcel, that Jean. A few minutes with her and I have a dong that would be in danger of being shot and stuffed if it happened to be seen in the wrong place. She's so hot that she's panting like a dog ... she'll split herself if she tries to spread her legs any farther ... and her conillon has been opened up so much by what Billie was doing to it that my fingers seem to fall in as soon as I touch it... It's a nice fat cunt... If there's one thing I don't like it's one of those bony bitches with just a bunch of hair and a hole that looks as though it might have been poked into them with a stick.

Billie doesn't mind what I do to her Jean. Probably she wouldn't anyway, but she's so much wrapped up in Anna--literally--that she hasn't time for anything else. Anna's watching us, but Billie never notices when I climb onto Jean.

Jean doesn't fuck at first. She has her knees up, making it easy for me to get into her, but that's about as far as her cooperation goes. She's being screwed rather than screwing ... and she's being screwed damn well. My dong is all the way in with every jump ... . I have the edges of her cunt tucked in and the cracks plugged up with hair. I fuck her until her tongue is hanging out ... and when she's almost coming she starts fucking too; then it's like screwing the Furies.

Watching me ride that ferocious little cunt like that seems to put an extra measure of pepper up Anna's ass. She pulls her cunt open as far as she can, until the damn thing actually yawns, and Billie seems to have most of her face inside it. Then she comes: when that happens she can't stand having Billie trying to climb in ... . she pushes Billie away, but lets her come back again to lick up the juice that's pouring down her thighs.

When Billie comes out from all that and sees what game Jean and I are playing she lets go with some invective thats too neat to be as masculine as Billie wants to be. Only a female could scatter the language about so recklessly and still have it seem to mean something. She's not angry, exactly ... but from what I've seen it looks as though this brace of cunts have their best fun when they're either spitting in each other's faces or kicking each other around. Jean doesn't pay much attention ... she fucks harder than ever. Then she throws one leg up almost to my shoulder, shoves her ass out so that Anna and Billie can see just exactly what this game looks like at close range ... and we both come . .

She wants my address! That's the first thing that Jean says after she's come, and she sounds as though she means it. Shit, I'm not going to refuse my address to a cunt like Jean ... and from Billie there's not so much as a dirty look. It's Anna who acts jealous, if anybody does ... she asks Billie if she's not afraid of losing her little cunt. Not Billie... .

 

"She has to be screwed," Billie tells Anna, playing with Jean's hair and pushing it out of her eyes. "I don't mind when she goes out and gets laid ... . it's these bitchy Lesbians she takes up with that I can't stand. But you know what you'll have to do, Jean, if I say it's all right... ."

Jean knows ... and right then and there she shows us what it is. She shoves her hair back over her ears so that it won't get in the way and then she bends over and kisses Billie's cunt ... . . She's still breathless from the screwing I gave her, but she sucks Billie's cunt until Billie comes... . .

 

Last night, eight o'clock on the nose, I keep my appointment at the entrance of the Jardin des Plantes. Fifteen minutes ... . half an hour... . Nine o'clock and that bitch hasn't shown up yet. Jesus, people who break dates ought to be jailed. It's like taking money from you ... it's worse than taking money. They waste your life

... . an hour here, fifteen minutes there ... it must add up to years after a while.

So another hour has been stolen from me, and where am I going to get another one to take its place? My great Jesus, I'm not going to live forever, I don't have so many hours left that I can go tossing them away like that. But women never think of things like that. I don't think that women ever think about coming to the end of their life someday. Certainly they don't in the same way that men do. You can depend on it ... . if a man's unpunctual he's usually worthless, shiftless and at least eighteen assorted kinds of a prick besides. But even a smart woman, or what men call a smart woman, will keep you cooling your heels without any compunction... .

At nine o'clock I give that corner the shake. I've got better things to do than hold down the sidewalk all night. A hell of a fine job of fixing it up Raoul did... .

One thing, though ... in Paris you never miss the boat. If one cunt doesn't show up another will ... . in every cafe shit-house there is a fine list of addresses on the walls, and they're not all phoney, the way they are in America. (What kind of a cunt would you find at one of those addresses? I'll have to try it sometime... .) There's cunt all over the place ... . you can pay for it or you can have it for nothing, depending on how badly you need it, and while your belly may be empty just as often here as in America, your bed doesn't have to be... .

 

So even if Raoul's sister-in-law hasn't shown up I'm not worried about finding a fuck. About an hour later, when I've had a few drinks, I pick one up. She's not a whore, really, she's simply hungry. She's not a beauty but she's not bad; she's young and she looks as though she used soap once in a while. So I give her a feed and then we go home and I try to ram it back out of her again ... . but I'm still sore about that other cunt... .

Then this morning Raoul comes prancing in, bright as a daisy. He's going to be funny, the son-of-a-bitch ... . and how did it go last night, he wants to know...

.

"Oh boy! Oh! Alf?" he says, wagging his finger at me. "How did you like her?

Was she a baggage like you thought? See ... . . when I fix it up ... . maybe you'll believe me next time..." He runs around the room and finds a cigarette. "She likes you, Alf ... . I saw her today, first thing, and she's nuts about you ... . . only she thinks you're a little bit crazy. One thing is bad, though ... . very bad. All those bruises on her behind, Alf ... . how is she going to explain those to my brother?

Ah, but she likes that too ... . at the time. She's headstrong, Alf, and she forgets about tomorrow ... . you shouldn't spank her so hard next time ... And for Christ's sake take her to a better hotel ... . she has friends at that place... ."

"Stop being cute, damn it. Listen, Raoul, you can tell that cunt ... Oh, tell her any fucking thing you want to! She kept me waiting there an hour... .

"An hour? No, not an hour, Alf... . Eight o'clock, that was the time we said... ."

Raoul goes on talking until it begins to come to me that he really thinks I was out with his sister-in-law last night. Shit, he even has all the details about it...

Finally I put him straight and I have a hell of a time making him see that I'm not kidding... . He even climbs onto the bed and sniffs the sheets when I tell him I was home with another cunt last night. He's wild when he's convinced.

"But she got laid, Alf ... honest she got laid good! You ought to see her this morning! I thought you were just shitting me, Alf... She isn't smart enough to try to shit me... Do you know what's happened, Alf? ... She's been screwed ... she's been cheated!"

He wants to know who I'd told about that date. I hadn't told anybody. Then what corner was I standing on? Yes, that's where she was ... etc., etc., for ten minutes. Raoul doesn't see anything funny in it, and it's too early in the day for me to laugh.

"Well, what about that fuck I was supposed to get?" I ask Raoul. "How about tonight? Can she make it?"

Raoul gets sore. To hell with the fuck I was supposed to get he says ... what about the one she got? How is he going to explain that to her? Do I think he's going up and say, hey, that was the wrong one, and ask her to do it over? When she didn't even get paid?

"What kind of a son-of-a-bitch could have done a thing like that, Alf? It must have been one of your friends ... nobody else would do a thing like that. What a prick he must be, eh, Alf? Taking advantage of an innocent girl like that ... and not even paying her ... not even paying her, Alf? And in a cheap, lousy hotel where she could get lice or things! My own sister-in-law!"

He won't stick around any longer ... he's got to rush right back and try to straighten things out. Do I have a picture of myself he can show her? No? Well, maybe he can call me up litter in the day and I'll meet them some place so that he can show her she was fucked by the wrong guy... . Raoul says that maybe if she sees me she'll like me and want to give me a screw anyway, but he can't say that he's very hopeful. There's always bad luck like this in his family, Raoul says... He has a cousin who went with a girl ... nice girl. But the girl got a job and pretty soon her boss was after her... Well, Raoul's cousin found out that she had to be nice to her boss, and he didn't like it. Up he goes to tell the old fart off. And then what do I suppose happened? I can't guess, but I imagine it was something catastrophic... . The old man thought he was there looking for a job, Raoul tells me, and he hired him on the spot. So now they both have to kiss his ass, and Raoul's cousin has to answer the phone and say the boss is in conference when he knows fucking well he's back there with his girl friend on the couch, screwing the pants off her... . Nothing but bad luck in their family Raoul tells me.

I've just closed the door after Raoul when Alexandra comes dashing up the stairs. Have I got Tania here, she wants to know. Well, if I haven't got here here, where have I got her? Tania, it seems, got tired of playing with her puppy and disappeared yesterday. She ought to be somewhere in Paris by now, and Alexandra has simply come to the most likely place to look for her.

 

What about Peter, I ask Alexandra when she's calmer, is he gone too? No, Peter is still out in the country, waiting to see if Tania comes back ... . he doesn't know anymore about where she's gone than anyone else does. But have I had any notes from her? Do I have any idea of where she might have gone?

What Alexandra seems to want is for me to organize a searching party, rouse the country through the columns of the paper, and send boy scouts out. I've never seen her go so completely up in the air, and it's useless to try to talk to her until she's got some sense. I tell her that I'll do what I can, and Alexandra goes hopping off somewhere else. She's completely off her nut today, but she needn't be. If I know Tania, she's taking very good care of herself... ... .