Forbidden Reading (13 page)

‘You think I should take pity on her?’ Sartine enquired. He rolled Marie’s stiff nipple between a finger and thumb as he considered the suggestion. ‘You don’t think I should satisfy you first, my love?’

‘Pierre,’ Marie snapped, ignoring Sartine. ‘End Justine’s frustration.’ She glared at the maids and added, ‘You can both help him. The poor girl is desperate to come and my sadistic husband is being the cruellest tease.’

Her instructions were delivered in the same stiff tone that Sartine used and Justine was delighted to note they were instantly obeyed. Pierre swept Justine from her seat, lifting her easily and carrying her across to the four-poster bed. The maids moved out of the way but one of them took the opportunity to remove Justine’s skirt while the other stripped her pants away. The blouse fell from her shoulders as Pierre carried her across the room and, by the time he had laid her on the silk sheets, she realised her bra had also been removed.

And, amazed by her own attention to detail, all that Justine could think of was the revelation that Sartine and Marie were married. She had watched the woman straddling Pierre in the dining room and Sartine had coolly sat by enjoying the same depraved sideshow. She had suspected the pair were involved in an unusual relationship but she hadn’t expected to discover they were husband and wife. The revelation made her sure she had found a new level of decadence and depravity.

‘She needs properly pleasuring,’ Marie told Pierre sternly. ‘Imagine you are taking me.’

Justine shivered as she listened to the command. The decadence of being naked and surrounded by glamorous strangers heightened her arousal and expectation. She was acutely aware of the soft fabric against her back and buttocks and delighted by the way it soothed the heat of her febrile flesh. Pierre placed himself over her while the two maids delivered hungry kisses to Justine’s breasts and pussy. The end of his erection brushed against her sex lips and she realised one of the maids was holding his length and teasing its tip against her labia.

‘You are here in pursuit of pleasure?’ he whispered.

Not trusting herself to speak, Justine could only nod.

‘I think you might have come to the right place,’ he said and grinned. As he spoke he bucked his hips forward. The maids held Justine’s labia apart, stretching the flesh lightly and allowing him to slide easily inside. His thickness was broad enough to make its presence felt against her inner muscles and she groaned happily as he forced himself deeper inside.

The priest had proved to be a capable lover the previous evening but the unnerving element of sacrilege had made it difficult for Justine to enjoy the experience. On this occasion, with two beautiful maids sucking at her nipples and teasing her labia while a gorgeous man slid in and out of her wetness, Justine remembered how easy it was to give in to absolute pleasure. She pushed her hips up to meet Pierre’s penetration and was rewarded by feeling his shaft brush against the hard bead of her clitoris. One of the maids gasped noisily and, after casting a brief glance in her direction, Justine was delighted to see the woman had raised her skirt and was eagerly plundering her own pussy.

Traces of self-indulgence were everywhere: from Sartine and Marie kissing and caressing each other by the side of the bed; through to the maid who sucked against Justine’s breast as she stroked a loving hand against Pierre’s backside. To be a part of their hedonism was intoxicating and Justine gave herself to the moment without a care for the repercussions. She had answered Sartine’s questions; convinced him that her intentions for acquiring
La Coste
made her eligible; and now she was able to enjoy every pleasure without fear of being discovered as a fraud.

Pierre rode in and out with a pace that was maddening. While her body cried out for vigorous and demanding haste, he seemed confident that she needed to enjoy a leisurely session of intimacy. Each thrust was just a little less than she wanted, and Justine bucked herself onto him in an attempt to hasten his rhythm.

The maid to her left – fingering herself with urgent bursts of speed – groaned as she started to wring the climax from her sex. Her soft gasps were intermingled with a rush of guttural French words that Justine knew she would never be able to translate. She could see that the woman hadn’t gone to the trouble of removing her panties and the shape of her knuckles distended the gusset as she rubbed frantically. When her orgasm finally came, the ice-white crotch of her panties was darkened by the rush of wetness. She raised her gaze to meet Justine’s and they exchanged a silent and profound understanding.

The maid to her right, dutifully suckling against Justine’s breast, muttered words of indecipherable encouragement. Justine couldn’t decide if the enthusiastic rejoinders were directed toward her or the man between her legs. The maid clearly carried a lot of affection for Pierre, a detail that was obvious in her adoring smile and the reverential way she caressed his bare body. But, Justine thought, it was the earthy tone of the maid’s exclamations, coupled with the delicious nuance of her accent, that made each mumbled expletive a delightful accoutrement to the uninhibited atmosphere.

‘Is this how you take your pleasures at home, Justine?’

The question came from Sartine as he nudged Pierre aside.

Justine was devastated to have the glorious length snatched from her tight confines and she wanted to wail with disappointment. The prospect of orgasm had been looming closer and she was appalled by the injustice of having his shaft stolen from her when she had been on the verge of cresting her own peak of pleasure. Trembling with the need for release, she sighed with contentment when she saw the size of the erection that Sartine wielded. One of the maids grabbed her master’s shaft and teased it against the dewy slit of Justine’s sex.

Marie climbed on to the bed and positioned herself so her sex hovered over Justine’s face. The scent of her wetness was rich and exciting and it was almost more than Justine could abide. The lips of the woman’s pussy had separated into a dark pink pout that begged to be kissed. As Justine savoured the raw delight of Sartine’s penetration, she began to panic that her body might explode from sensory overload.

Fingertips trailed against her legs and abdomen.

Each light caress added to the stimulation she was savouring through her breasts, sex and mouth. The swell of her orgasm was building with phenomenal speed and Justine knew, when the climax did erupt, it was going to be overwhelming.

‘Is this how you take your pleasure at home?’ Sartine asked again.

Justine tore her mouth away from the wetness of Marie’s hole and shook her head. Her lips and mouth felt sodden with the remnants of the woman’s arousal and the urge to savour the taste made a cramp of excitement tighten in her stomach. ‘I’ve never enjoyed myself so much before,’ she admitted honestly. It was a struggle to keep her head and not scream with gratitude as she made the confession. A niggling thought at the back of her mind made her wonder if the excess of stimulation was as exciting as the kiss she had shared with the penitent: but Justine felt sure that all the pleasures she was currently enjoying had to be superior.

‘This is the most intense stimulation I’ve ever enjoyed,’ she assured him.

‘Do you mean that?’

‘Yes. Of course. Why?’

He laughed and pushed himself deep inside her. ‘I’m simply surprised that you’ve never enjoyed this degree of satisfaction,’ Sartine murmured. ‘And, I’m wondering how you will respond when we really begin to work on you this evening.’

With his length buried deep inside her hole, Justine felt the flood of her orgasm begin to rush through her body. She bit her lower lip, struggled to contain a cry, and then decided she couldn’t suppress the scream. Her grateful shriek echoed cheerfully around the penthouse.

Her jubilant wail sounded sporadically through the remainder of the afternoon. Sartine rode her until his shaft eventually thickened and pulsed and erupted into her sex in a wet and sticky explosion. He had barely pulled himself away from her before Pierre had returned to slide easily in and out of her sopping hole. After Marie had been licked to a climax she changed places with one of the maids and allowed Justine to tongue a fresh hole while she suckled greedily against a bare breast. The five of them repeatedly changed places, constantly reminding Justine that she was the centre of attention and paying every consideration to her pleasure and satisfaction. Within three hours of beginning Justine ached from the excess of pleasure and was ready to beg Sartine to let her stop and rest from the indulgence. The convulsions of too many orgasms had left her dreading another rush of pleasure. After spending so long swathed in a cowl of perspiration, she felt drained and dehydrated.

As though he sensed she needed a reprieve, Sartine snapped his fingers and commanded that the afternoon’s entertainment should be brought to a conclusion. He made some comment about necessary preparations for the forthcoming evening but Justine understood he was really drawing the event to a close so she would have a chance to recover.

Pierre and Marie bade Justine goodbye with delicate kisses to her lips and brow. The subtlety of their farewells made Justine believe she had earned the affection of two genuine friends during their afternoon of unbridled passion. The pair of maids regarded Justine with surprisingly bashful expressions and gave the puzzling reassurance that they would look out for her later. Sartine gallantly draped a robe over Justine’s shoulders and led her back to her room and the penitent.

Dizzy from the wine, and still reeling after enjoying excesses in so many pleasures, Justine almost stumbled into the woman’s arms as she staggered toward the bed and prepared to sleep.

‘Justine?’ the penitent began.

‘No,’ Justine said, pushing the woman away. She struggled to think of the French word for sleep, but that only served to remind her of how little she knew about the language. Exhausted from the thrill of more orgasms than she could remember enjoying, Justine tried to wave the penitent away as she stumbled toward the bed. ‘Avec tired,’ she mumbled as she fell on the bed and wrestled herself beneath the blankets.

‘I have read the pages you left behind,’ the penitent pressed.

It took a moment for Justine to realise what the woman had said.

Her wearied thoughts briefly pondered over the puzzle of how she could understand the penitent. Her mind flitted briefly on the idea that she had listened to so many exclamations of French pleasure that she had developed some previously untapped understanding of the tongue. And then she realised she was listening to English. She opened her eyes wide, the need for sleep suddenly gone. Snatching the pages from the penitent’s hand, unable to suppress the elated grin that stretched across her features, she gasped, ‘You’ve read these?’

‘Yes.’

‘You can translate them for me? You can tell me what they say in English?’

‘If you want me to do that I can try,’ the penitent replied hesitantly. ‘But…’

Justine didn’t allow her to finish. Sitting up on the bed, thrusting the pages back into the penitent’s hands, she waited expectantly to hear what was contained within the sample pages from the manuscript.

‘Escaping from the Bastille was easy. Corrupt guards can be as obliging as well-paid whores when they have been bought. Should I have chosen, I could have implored the chief gaoler to swallow my cock before he escorted me from the prison
.’

‘Go on,’ Justine encouraged. ‘Read more, please.’

The penitent nodded and returned her attention to the first page. She used a finger to follow the scrawl of writing and her lips were pursed with concentration as she studied each word before reading and then translating.

‘“You can’t escape the Bastille through blackmail,” the gaoler tried to tell me. I assured him I wasn’t trying to escape the Bastille and I was not using blackmail. I had paid two whores to fuck him each night for a week. Now they were no longer receiving their money, they wanted to tell the gaoler’s wife what had been happening. I explained to the gaoler that I was merely being allowed from the restrictions of the prison so I could find the whores and stop them from disrupting his marriage
.

“Don’t think of it as blackmail,” I encouraged him. “Think of it as my doing you a personal favour that you don’t really deserve.” ’

The penitent paused for breath, turned the page, and then continued.

‘Fresh air has never tasted so sweet. Liberty’s freedom has never held me in such an ecstatic thrall. As the carriage drove me toward my revered La Coste, I vowed I would celebrate my freedom in the lewdest manner befitting. The long journey sped quickly past as I entertained a hundred score deviant pleasures that would be mine for the taking. As soon as I returned home, I would immerse myself in history’s greatest orgy of excess.’

‘My God!’ Justine breathed.

The penitent glanced uneasily at her. Her finger remained on the page, holding the spot she had reached, and Justine could see the woman’s hand was trembling. Seeing her shiver made Justine realise that they were sharing the excitement of this experience and she suddenly wanted her more than ever.

‘It really is
La Coste
,’ Justine whispered.

‘It is very old,’ the penitent replied doubtfully. ‘The language is…’ her voice trailed off as she struggled to find an appropriate word. ‘It is not of this time,’ she said eventually. ‘I am rephrasing the words so they make sense to my ear. Is that acceptable?’ Her smile was apologetic and crestfallen.

Her full ripe lips – tightening and stretching as she shaped each word – became too great a temptation for Justine to resist. Unable to contain the impulse she leant across the bed and kissed the penitent.

She could feel the woman’s initial surprise but realised it was quickly banished by a fevered and welcoming warmth. The blonde’s hands went to her waist and the pair embraced with animalistic hunger. The faxed pages were forgotten, the penitent’s place was lost, and their copy of
La Coste
’s opening fluttered unimportantly to the floor. The bed beneath them creaked on ancient springs as Justine pushed the penitent down and straddled her. They were both naked and she took a moment to admire her lover’s glorious physique – the perfectly flat abdomen, modest breasts and freshly shaved pussy – and then her arousal dictated that she had to act.