Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Amanda

1797 – New York 

I opened my eyes to the morning light spilling through the windows. I sat up to find my bath drawn and Josephine standing at the tub. A bit perplexed, I stood and approached her.

She gestured to the tub and I got in, lowering myself into the water. I hardly believed it, but my mistress began to wash me. I dared not look at her nor speak, so I remained silent until she had finished.

I stood and she dried me. When she finished, she rang the servant’s bell. Hardly a moment passed before Sandra came into my room holding a beautiful blue velvet dress. She smiled as she approached.

“For me?” I whispered when she was close enough. She nodded her head.

Sandra helped me into the new dress and I turned to see myself in the looking glass. As I was admiring the gown, Josephine approached and removed my collar.

I lifted a hand to my neck, in shock. “My mistress, I beg you, don’t put me out.” I did not care if I got the glove for speaking out of turn.

She smiled broadly. “Do you know what day this is?”

I had to think for sometime before I realized that it had been exactly one year since I had come to live with her. “Our anniversary, my mistress.”

“All I have to teach is done in only one year, Elizabeth.”

I looked up at Josephine. She had not used my name, nor called my anything but whore or slut, in the longest time.

“Mistress?”

“I am setting you free, dear. It is time for you to come out from beneath my wing and take flight on your own.” She embraced me, but I was too shocked to respond in kind.

“I am to leave the house?” I finally said.

“If you wish,” she nodded. “I think it would do you good to strike out on your own now, make a go of your life.” She took my face in her hands. “But you may stay as long as you need. I shan’t throw you out on the street.”

I felt as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I had survived. I had come through this. It was a success on my part, and the first time I had felt that. I knew the things Catherine knew. I had seen what she had seen.

Josephine invited me down to have breakfast and I was given the seat at the opposite end of the table from her. She was treating me as an equal.

I desperately wished to speak as we ate, but I was so accustomed to my place I found I could not. In time Josephine saw my distress.

“You need not have my permission to speak, Elizabeth, dear.” Again she used my name. It sounded strange to me. I hardly recognized it as my own.

“I’m truly free, mistress?”

She nodded her head.

“I may wear clothing again?”

“Well I must say, I hope you don’t, but if you insist you may.” She was teasing me. “Would you like to go into town today?” she asked.

“If it pleases you, my —”

She held up a hand, stopping me.

I thought for a moment, almost afraid to say a word. “Yes,” I finally uttered, then, “Mistress?”

She looked up at me, smiling. “Dear, you may call me Josephine if you wish.”

“If it…” I stopped myself and simply nodded my head. “Yes, mistress.”

And that was exactly what we did. We rode into town then walked about the markets and neighborhoods, never far from the coach which followed behind.

I found myself walking in my usual place at her heel, my head lowered. More than once she had to pull me even with her and remind me to hold my head high. Each time she did, she told me I must be proud that I had completed her training where others had failed.

All of the shame, the humiliation, was somehow meant to give me confidence and strength. I did not understand how right away. But over time, the lessons I learned from Josephine became clear to me, and I find myself eternally grateful to her.

One of the things I first realized I had learned, though, was that I was not to be ashamed of my body nor my nakedness. And that I was to be ashamed of my desires no longer. I had endured every perversion I imagined possible, and what I wanted, what I truly wanted, seem to pale in comparison.

For years to come, I would ponder: certainly such wisdom could be imparted without such extreme measures, could it not? It would not be until I was much older that I would understand that perhaps this was true for a man. Taking what one wants, pride, confidence — these things seemed to come so naturally to men. I do not know if I believe women to truly be their lesser, or that we might be the weaker. But if such a hint of strength does reside within us naturally, it is fully squelched long before our earliest memories. For a woman, there was no greater shame than to feel lust. Our nakedness was to be hidden that none should ever see it. Our desires, if indeed normal women had them at all, could never be given voice, nor could we let slip our enjoyment of such earthly pleasures. Josephine used that. To shock us. For if we could overcome even the greatest humiliation and give voice to our most secret shame, surely nothing else could ever challenge us.

We arrived home late for dinner. However, we still ate, then I went to my room. I wondered how free I was now. Had she truly released me from bondage? Could I come and go as I wished? Most of all, could I make love as I saw fit?

Through the humiliations Sandra had always been as kind to me as she could. I found that I did not bear her any ill will. Truthfully, now that I was beginning to understand that this was over, I bore no ill will toward Josephine either.

I was not fully aware of it all yet, but I knew she was teaching me something. She was giving to me what she had given Catherine, and in turn what Catherine had given Maddy. My two greatest heroines.

I rang my servant’s bell for the first time… Ever. I still wore my lovely blue dress, but soon would trade it for a nightgown. I thought I might have time even now before Sandra arrived but I did not.

“You summoned me, miss?”

“I hate that you call me miss,” I told her. After what I had endured, I wanted only for her to call me Elizabeth.

“It’s not proper to call you by your name, miss, I am but a servant.”

“Not tonight.” I reached out and took her hand. I kissed her fingers and smiled up at her. “You need not be a servant tonight if you don’t wish it.”

Sandra withdrew her hand, a bit surprised. “I fear I mustn’t, miss. The Mistress would be cross.” She hurried away.

And that was my answer. She could only be a servant to me so long as I was in this house. I had not given up, though. I desired her, and if she shared that desire in any way, I would have her. In my time with my mistress I had come to believe I might be able to love that kindhearted maid.

The following morning I sat at breakfast quietly for sometime. At long last I drew a deep breath, mustering my courage, and spoke. “Mistress… may I take Sandra with me when I go?”

Josephine laughed to herself, then sipped her coffee. She did not seem to believe what I’d said. After some time, she finally spoke. “Do you think you love her?”

“Love? No, mistress.” I swallowed hard. “But I do care for her very much.”

“Indeed. Would you still care for her if she was a willing participant in all you’ve endured? If she herself had devised many of the torments?”

I felt a note of betrayal. Sandra had begged me to forgive her for the things she would do, but I wondered now if that had been a facade. Still, it was Sandra. And I found myself repeating the question. Would I care if she had been a willing participant? She had been so kind to me throughout it all, as kind as she dared be. And, as much as it pains me to say it, I do not think she was clever enough to lie so well.

“I think I would,” I finally said. “Was she?” I looked toward my mistress.

“Be serious, dear. Sandra has no heart for any of this. Which is what makes her so entertaining.”

I was relieved. I meant what I had said, but I was glad that I would not have to think about it.

“Elizabeth, you need to go out into the world and make your own way. She should be a part of your past, a fond memory in all of this, but there is yet a girl out there and she awaits you even now,” Josephine said as she sipped coffee.

I did not look deterred.

“But if you insist, dear, and she wishes it, then I shall simply find another assistant. Temperance is very capable. Were you not so taken with Sandra, I’d have used her as well.”

I’d guessed that much. My affection for the girl was obvious and I never attempted to make a secret of it, even though I was certain Josephine used it or at least tried to use it against me.

So, now it was that Sandra was left to make the choice. I could only hope that she would choose me. It was much to ask of her, but I had the money to support us both. I was sure we could make a go of it.

I joined Josephine in the parlor for a time and then we toured the grounds. I felt so different in a dress and walking with my head held high. When we returned to the house, I decided it was time to put the question to Sandra. I found her in the kitchen and asked her to come to my chamber.

Once we were both in my room and the door was closed, I smiled at her. I approached her and removed the hat she wore to hold her hair out of the way. Gently I stroked her hair and caressed her cheek with my fingertips.

“Sandra, I beg you, come away with me when I go.”

“I cannot, miss. The mistress —”

“The mistress has granted you your freedom if you want it.”

“And you wish for me to come with you, miss, as your maid?” Sandra asked.

“No, of course not. I want you to come as my lover. I have money and can take care of us. We can have a fine home and a servant of our own,” I told her. I hoped that this would tempt her.

“Oh, it sounds wonderful indeed,” she said with a smile. Then her face became sad. “But I’m afraid I couldn’t, miss… I have done such terrible things and I could never face you.”

It was then that I noticed she would not look me in the eye. My heart sank. I understood. It would have been better if she had been a willing participant, but she had not, and now simply could not face the things she had done.

“I begged you not to take fancy to me, miss. Now we must both nurse a broken heart. Mine for what I’ve done and what it’s cost me, and yours…”

“Then if you will not come with me, will you be mine until morning?” I asked her. I took her hand in mine and held it to my heart. “I think I should die if you say no. Do you feel it? My heart beats for you now.”

The girl slowly pulled her hand away and closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I mustn’t,” she whispered.

“But why? You need not feel any guilt.”

“Because I love you, miss,” she sobbed.

Sandra turned and left me there, my heart sinking.

I sat upon my bed crying. All that she had done, she had done while in love. As I sat there, I cried for her, for my torments seemed nothing at all in light of that. What horror it must have been to harm the one you love, knowing that if you do not, much worse should be visited upon you both.

I would have suffered the glove a thousand times over for Sandra if it spared her suffering. That was love, I supposed. But had she refused, the mistress would have taken it out on us both.

I also came to understand that Sandra had been broken. She hadn’t the spirit to do anything but what she did. She did not have the heart to move on to another life. She had made herself a slave. She would never allow herself to leave the mistress.

I decided I must leave Josephine’s home. I stayed there only one more week before I went back to Manhattan where I found a suitable room to rent. I began collecting my money again from the lawyer, and spent much of my days shopping, sipping coffees and teas at cafes, or drinking ale in taverns.

I was heartbroken without Sandra. I had so wished that she would come with me. I had foolishly dreamt out our lives. Two happy ladies, touring the city and living in a modest home. We would drink absinthe at night and spend our days enjoying our leisure.

I continued to go to the weekly tea party. The women, seeing I had been freed of my bondage, seemed to take on a new respect for me. This all went on for nearly six months before I tired of New York City.

I decided it was time for me to explore new horizons. For a time I wondered if I should not return to Philadelphia and try to help Catherine rebuild our sorority. I felt that I could do anything now. I had survived a year of hell and nothing was beyond my grasp.

In time I came to understand that Philadelphia was in my past. My future lay elsewhere. I had to move forward. I had a destiny awaiting me and I knew I could reach it.

Catherine had lawyers in Philadelphia, New York, Paris, and Amsterdam. I decided that for now I must choose one of those cities, and obviously this left me only Paris or Amsterdam. I chose Paris. It seemed to me that whenever one heard of debauchery, there was a Frenchman involved somehow.

Three days after making my choice, I collected all of my funds from Catherine’s lawyer and booked passage on a ship sailing between America and France. Journey by sea is a misery in itself, but I felt I had to move forward. For me, such a journey was not so unthinkable, as I did have the means by which to avoid the worst there was.

I said my goodbyes at the next tea party. I thought only Sandra might miss me if she knew, and I had written her a letter which I asked Josephine to deliver. Constance and Mary both wished me well, while the others said little or nothing. It did not matter to me. My destiny held the love and admiration of many in my future.

So when I boarded the ship, I smiled to myself. For some reason I was reminded of Alice’s cards. She said the Death Card represented great change, and it had, as well as warning of impending death. And so much change I had seen that indeed my future could not have been foretold.

I shall spare the most awful details of a journey at sea. Sailors are a filthy breed, and there is naught to drink but ale or rum for the casked water is foul long before the journey’s end. Food is edible only because one is starved, and one cannot properly wash nor enjoy a change of clothing for the whole time they are aboard ship. To imagine that in our modern world we could still be reduced to such as that humbles a body. Six weeks I suffered this, and was told at journey’s end I was fortunate that we had benefited from unusually fortuitous winds.

The first thing I did when I arrived on land was find an inn where I could bathe. After that I found a cafe and enjoyed as much water as I could hold and food which had not been salted.

Once I had my fill, I began to consider a plan for the future. A new century was about to dawn, and with it a new world for me and for any woman of like mind that I might meet.

After I arrived in Paris, I found my French was much too stale to be of use to me. Eventually I found a boy who spoke English, and paid him three cents per day to translate for me.

’Twas the boy helped me find a boarding house. I also took my money to Catherine’s lawyer. I told him what he needed to know to begin getting my allowance, and entrusted my fortune to him. He assured me that within only a few months I would have my income again.

I came to France unaware of the politics in the region. I had arrived during the last years of the revolution. There was so much upheaval that I hardly received any notice.

Lives were thrown into chaos, but for me it was heaven. I began searching for my new home. I knew what I wanted and what I would settle for. My boy was at my side at all times, translating for me.

It took a month to find what I wanted. And indeed I found what I wanted exactly. It was a small tavern with an apartment above it. It was in no way luxurious, but it was perfect for me. Yet again the nuns had not failed me.

I bought the tavern and the apartment above. I still had enough money left that I could easily open the tavern for business, but I was not ready yet. I had to find my clients. They would not know to come to me.

I wrote two letters the day after I moved into my new home. The first to Alice to tell her all that I had seen since I left her. Unlike my first letter to her, I spared not a detail.

I then wrote a letter to Catherine. I told her I had been in Josephine’s tutelage, knowing that I need not give her any further details. I asked her if she knew anyone in Paris who might be friendly to our type. I hoped Catherine would tell me more about her life when she wrote back, but I did not press her for details in my own letter.

I gave the letters to her lawyer and he promised to send them on the next ship. I would have to wait at least three months before I could even begin to hope I might see a return letter.

And so I waited those three months, and then another. Eventually a letter came from Alice. I desperately needed the information I had asked of Catherine, but hearing from Alice was no less exciting.

Catherine had given birth to a daughter, I read. She had hired a nanny for the girl and had begun to spend much of her time with Eliza in her home. There was talk of opening the tavern again, but even Alice knew that things there would never be the same.

Alice could see that something had changed in Catherine, and that she seemed not to have the heart for leading her sorority again. She was concerned for her daughter, apparently, and for how such a life as she had lived might affect the child.

Alice and Eliza had adopted a daughter of their own. Or Eliza had, at least. She absolutely refused to have a man and did not care what stares and whispers it might cause. She would have an heiress, and that was all that mattered.

She sent congratulations for my perseverance. She did not understand all I had endured, but she knew that it had been an ordeal many had failed. She also seemed to be quite intrigued by it all.

I wrote Alice back that very day. I hoped that we could correspond this way until we were both too old to write.

I thought Catherine had chosen not to respond to my letter, and after the fifth month passed I’d almost given up. It hurt not to hear from her but given she had a child I felt I understood.

I had gone to her lawyer’s office to receive my weekly allowance. I was about to leave when he stopped me.

“My dear,” he said, “I nearly forgot again. This arrived for you a month ago and I have simply forgotten to give it to you. I beg your forgiveness.”

It was a bulky envelope, penned in Catherine’s lovely hand. She had written. I smiled as I looked down at it, then thanked the lawyer, holding the letter to my chest. This was a wonderful day indeed.

I hurried home and sat at my desk, opening it with great excitement. I soon found myself saddened, however. Her words alone showed how much she had changed.

“My dearest daughter,” she wrote, “I hope this letter finds you well. I must congratulate you on your accomplishment at my mentor’s feet. You are stronger than you can imagine. I must confess that I myself tried to run away at one point. She caught me and I lost my courage, opting instead to face her discipline.

“I fear that my life has changed irreparably. I have borne a daughter, and my husband has left me, but refuses to grant me a divorce. He hopes to outlive me and take my fortune. I shall sell my soul for eternity before I ever let that happen.

“I am still the woman you knew me as, the wicked deviant you came to know, but my heart has been broken by the loss of my tavern and my dear girls. I simply haven’t the will to begin again. I think the time has come for me to pass the torch to another. Eliza seems a likely successor.

“As to your request for information — Paris is a place where I have spent much time. There are women who might be of interest to you. These may be able to help you find others. The first is Monique. She is only a year or two your senior. The second is Madame Annabelle La Granade. I have included a letter of introduction for both. Do not mix them up.

“Love forever, C”

As she promised, I found two letters within the larger envelope, both sealed. I dearly wished to see what they said, but did not open them.

The following day, I found Monique working as a trainer in the stables of a wealthy shipbuilder. I presented her the letter addressed to her and she read it carefully.

“Catherine…” she said quietly.

“Indeed.”

“I’ve not seen her in years.” She smiled. “I miss her.”

The young woman mounted a steed and looked at me. “Do you ride?”

“I fear I do not,” I responded.

Monique was wearing breeches and boots for riding, but I was in the blue velvet dress bought for me by Josephine. She offered her hand down to me and much to my dismay helped me into the saddle behind her.

We rode a time at a slow trot. I felt sure that at any moment I might topple from the saddle to the mud. When we stopped, Monique dropped from the saddle then helped me down.

“We can talk now,” she said, confident that we were far from any prying ears. “I am, as you must have guessed, of like mind to Catherine. But I lack the wealth to live as I would wish.”

“Are you married?”

“No, but I have barely escaped it.”

“How?”

“I told my fiancee that I was not a virgin,” she laughed. “Of course, it’s true, but I am untouched by men’s hands.” Monique sighed. “I am much older now than I was then. Such a thing would not serve to save me again.”

“Do you know others like us?”

“Scant few, I fear,” she said quietly. “But some. Paris is a big city, and surely there must be many. I simply do not know how to find them.”

She moved closer to me. “Be careful, girl. Revolution or not, being discovered as what we are would not end well for us. They may not burn or jail sodomites any longer, but that does not mean a woman of our proclivities mightn’t find herself deposited in an asylum. After all, we are women, and have no desires not given us by a man, or so it is said.”

“Indeed, tis dangerous everywhere,” I nodded. “Know that in the United States I likely would face the same, were I lucky, and hanging if not. I shan’t be careless.”

“I should hope not. If you are, you might cause many others undue misery.”

Then Monique pulled off her gloves and took my hand. “Forgive me, I have not properly greeted you.” She leaned down kissed my fingers. “It is my pleasure m’lady.”

I curtsied with a smile. It felt good to be treated so by a woman again.

“Are you a boy?” I asked her.

“If you mean, do I always dress in men’s clothes, then no. But I always treat a proper lady as should be.” She knitted her fingers through mine and we walked a time until we reached a creek.

“I wish to open a tavern where we might gather,” I confessed.

“Dangerous,” she observed, then turned to me. “But count me among your potential patrons.”

“I should be honored to have you.” I watched the water in the stream flowing silently past us. “Do you have someone special?” I finally asked.

“I did,” Monique said somberly. “But we were found out by her father. She has been sent to live with the nuns. I only just escaped his wrath.”

She picked up a stone and cast it on the water causing it to skip until it reached the far bank. “Elizabeth, France is an exciting and frightening place right now. Perhaps we could go unnoticed, or if failing that perhaps no one will care when everything has settled.” She took my hand and placed it on her arm, leading me back the way we’d come. “I will help you as I can.” She smiled as she spoke. “You are trying to bring what Catherine had here.”

“It’s my destiny,” I said.

“Destiny? You believe in such a thing?”

“Destiny is what you make it, and I choose this for mine.”

“Then I hope you succeed.”

Monique helped me into the saddle once we reached the horse, then mounted behind me, putting her arms around me to take the reins. I closed my eyes a moment and enjoyed the feeling of being in a woman’s arms.

We reached the stable again and she helped me down.

“I live at fifteen Rue de Moor,” I told her. “Below street level there is a tavern, and above that my house. You are welcome at any time.”

She smiled, and we said our goodbyes.

I would have liked to visit the Madame that same day, but it was late afternoon and I chose instead to return home. I ate at a cafe several blocks from my home, as I often would do, then walked back to the house. I took candles from the sitting room. There was a back stair that led from the kitchen into the tavern. I took these stairs and entered the tavern. As I did, I heard a rustling. Rumors often said the house was haunted by its former owner. I did not believe this, but every odd sound I heard amused me to think it could be his ghost.

The tavern had everything it needed, save a sign and drink. Chairs stood on tables in the small room and the bar was in beautiful condition. As I stood there with the ghosts of former owners looking over my shoulder, I closed my eyes and imagined the place full of women of every type. I pictured them drinking and making merry, with me presiding over them all.

It was the day of my twenty-fourth birthday when I took a carriage to meet the Madame. I approached her town home, the location where Catherine’s lawyer told me the woman spent most of her time, and rang the bell. A moment later a maid opened the door and looked me over.

“I’m here to see the Madame. I have this letter.” After I presented her with the letter, she allowed me to step into the entry hall where I waited as she took it to her mistress.

Quite a time passed before the maid returned. “Parlez-vous francais?”

I shook my head.

“Then I must translate,” she said, with a thick accent. I was concerned as I did not know how much the Madame’s servants knew.

I followed the maid to a sitting room where we found the Madame sitting before a fire in a high-backed chair. As the maid stepped close to her and whispered something in her ear, the Madame examined me carefully.

My hostess was an older woman. She wore no wig, as her hair was mostly white with her years already. She showed her age but not so much that her youthful beauty could not be recognized.

“The Madame says you may speak freely,” the maid said to me. “There are no secrets here.”

Again there was whispering. “Catherine speaks highly of you. That is why she has allowed you to come before her.”

“Madame,” I began, curtseying low before her. “I thank you for seeing me.” The maid translated as I spoke. “I come before you, a woman of like spirit to your own.”

The maid cut me off. “She knows why you are here. You seek others of like mind. She wants to know how she can help you.”

“I do not ask money from you or quarter. I need to know where I can find such women as us.”

The Madame began to laugh. “And you think me able to introduce you?” she said in English. The maid bowed her head and stepped back. “And to what end, girl?”

“It is my destiny.”

“Destiny? You think I might introduce you to the woman of your dreams?” She laughed again. “You will find your love on your own, I think.”

“No, Madame. No, ’tis not love I seek. What know you of Catherine’s home in Philadelphia?”

“I know she speaks of her girls. A number of women she indulges in much debauchery with.” She smiled. “You think you can do something similar here in Paris?”

“Why not?” I asked. “With some help, perhaps I can bring more of us together. Perhaps even enough that —”

“That what? You can fight in this revolution to live freely and openly?” She began laughing hard enough that it caused her to cough. “It shall never happen. You will do well to guard your secret jealously. Besides, you are but a child, how could you build such a gathering of women?”

“Through perseverance.”

“Ha! But such a thing takes money, and you do not seem to have that.”

“I have enough,” I told her. “I already own a tavern. It needs but drink and patrons.”

She stood, sticking her finger in my face. “Why should I risk my standing, my fortune, my life, for a child?”

“Because I can give others what you never had. Did you not long for such a place in your youth, Madame?”

“Reminding me of my youth will gain you no favor with me, girl,” she warned. “I endured twenty years with a husband I detested, all so I could appear normal. I have built my list of special friends over a lifetime. If I am to give it away to someone with high ideas, it shall not be on a whim.”

“A whim? Have you any idea what I have endured to come to this place?” I raised my head high. “Do you know of Josephine in New York?”

The woman nodded her head. “Of course I do. Anyone of breeding and similar desires knows of her.”

“I spent three years with Catherine in her home. And before that, I was as a wife to Madeline, a girl of Catherine’s. But most recently, I suffered a full year at Josephine’s feet. A whim? I mean to achieve my lofty goal and shall do it whether you help me or not. Now do as I ask or send me away, but do not question my dedication.”

The Madame laughed to herself, amused by my outburst. “A year? You survived the whole year?” She raised an eyebrow and sat back down on her chair. “I can’t say that I approve of her teachings. Much too… extreme. But indeed, that shows dedication.”

She opened a box on the table next to her and withdrew two cigars. The Madame gestured to a matching chair across from her. She then offered me a cigar which I happily took.

I knelt at the fire and withdrew a twig, lighting hers first and then my own. After tossing the stick back into the fire, I sat down and studied her carefully for any hint of what she might say next.

“I will provide two letters of introduction, just as Catherine did,” she said after much time.

I was disappointed, but two more names were better than none. I was going to do this, and if I was forced to find similar women only two at a time, then so be it.

We finished our cigars and the Madame, true to her word, wrote two letters of introduction for me. She gave them to me and I was shown to the door by the maid.

“You’re very fortunate,” the girl said to me once we reached the door.

“The letters?” I asked.

“No, I mean she does not speak English for everyone. She keeps her ability to do so quite secret.”

I soon found myself at my own home again. I had the two letters, which was better than nothing, but I was nowhere near what I truly wanted. I would have my destiny, though, no matter what I must endure.

I was about to go out to my favorite cafe to eat dinner when there came a knock at my door. Surprised, I opened it to find Monique standing before me smiling.

“So, this shall be our tavern then?” she asked before I could say anything.

I nodded my head and stood aside to let her in. “Would you like to see it?” I asked.

She smiled happily. I led her down the back stair and into the tavern. She stood quietly a time looking around, then turned to me.

“I think I should love it indeed,” Monique said. “But you must have a piano.”

“Would a guitar suffice?” I asked.

She opened her eyes wider. “Do you play?”

“Not terribly well, but a friend taught me.”

“A friend?” she asked, then flicked her tongue between her lips quickly.

I laughed and nodded my head. “Of a sort.”

Monique seemed quite pleased by this.

When she was satisfied with examining the tavern, we returned to my home and sat upon my sofa. “Would you like to have dinner with me?” she asked.

“That would be lovely.”

She took me to a cafe I had never been to before, though it was not at all far from my house. We ate and talked into the night, then took a carriage back to my home. After lighting candles about the sitting room, I turned to her.

“’Tis quite late, I fear. You may stay the night if you wish.”

She gave me an odd look, likely thinking I had more behind my offer than simply providing her a bed.

When I’d told her she could stay, I had not thought about making love to her. But seeing her there, looking a bit unsure, I began to consider it. And why shouldn’t I? I thought to myself. It had been so long since I had truly made love, not since my one night of freedom with Sandra.

“I shouldn’t,” Monique finally said.

I felt a bit of disappointment.

She turned to go, but then stopped herself. “It is so late and I have tomorrow all to myself.” After a pause, she smiled. “Do you mean to seduce me?”

Her question was so forward that it surprised me. Indeed the thought had occurred to me, I chuckled to myself. Monique was not an especially lovely girl but not at all homely either. I realized I must’ve taken on quite the wicked look in my eyes as I thought about her question.

“Would you fancy it?” I finally said.

She moved across the floor, coming close to me. “It’s been three years,” she whispered. “I am desperate for a woman’s touch.”

I was horrible. I hardly knew this girl at all, but there I was about to make love to her. What did it matter, though? I had done far more indecent acts than this. I leaned forward and kissed her, parting my lips and letting our tongues touch.

“Shall we retire?” I asked.

With an excited nod she took my hand, and I led her to my bed.

She wore a far simpler dress than I, and removing it was quite easy. Once she stood before me naked, I began to remove my own. We kissed and felt one another’s flesh. She was soft beneath my fingertips and I found myself trembling with excitement as I caressed her.

I bit and teased her nipples as she ran her fingers through my hair. Then I returned to her soft lips, drinking in her kisses. To make love again, to truly make love and not simply be the subject of someone’s perversions, it overwhelmed me with desire.

I nibbled at her neck while cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples with my fingers. I kissed and licked her flesh. She giggled and sighed as I teased my way to her mons. There I rubbed my palm over her soft hairs and kissed her gently. I caught the scent of her sex and felt my belly tighten. I felt as if I’d not enjoyed such wickedness in a thousand years, and could hardly contain my excitement.

Monique drew a long deep breath when I clamped my lips about her clitoris. She moaned softly and I glanced up to see her eyes slowly closing.

I pressed my fingers into her sex. She was positively soaked and I dearly wished to drink her in. I ran my tongue along her sex, pressing it within her opening. She moved her hips with me, her fingertips stroking my hair as she did.

I reached within her and nearly instinctively bent my fingers back to feel a somewhat rough patch of flesh just behind her opening. As soon as I touched it, she gasped and pushed herself toward me.

“What’s this?” she whispered.

I did not know how to answer, but her reaction inspired me to rub with more pressure. Monique rocked her hips and threw her head back. She grasp at my head as I lapped at her sex. She was moaning loudly and I feared we might be heard. Still I did nothing to stop her.

She began grasping at the bed sheets, pulling at them. Her knees had raised and she dug her heels into the bed as I rubbed my fingers more quickly and suckled her clitoris. And then, so soon, all too soon, she cried out and drove her sex toward me. She moved her hips slowly, gasping and groaning.

I surprised myself at how long I was able to draw out her climax. She seemed to orgasm forever as I continued to suck her clitoris and press and release my fingers just behind her opening.

When she relaxed, her sex still spasming about my fingers from time to time, I rose up. Slowly I withdrew my fingers and kissed her softly as I climbed back to the head of my bed.

“What did you do to me?” she asked.

I did not know. I simply shrugged. “Only what I always do,” I finally said.

She looked up at me, half smiling and gazing into my eyes a time. “Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

“Once. Many years ago. Though I fear she so broke my heart I might never love again.”

“You need only want to love and you will find you can,” she said, stroking my cheek with the backs of her fingers.

Monique pulled me down and kissed me deeply. She then coaxed me to lie upon the bed and straddled my hips. She smiled down at me some time while she stroked my breasts and belly. I lay looking up at her, enjoying her gentle touch. I was indeed randy, there is no doubt, but lying there neath the softness of her fingers I felt no need to rush.

In time she leaned forward and began kissing me again. Our tongues met and I closed my eyes. She kissed my chin, my throat, and down to my breasts, licking and nibbling my nipples.

She drew her tongue along my belly and elicited giggles from me when she swirled it about my naval. As she kissed and licked, her fingers explored my folds, and when at last I felt her tongue upon my magical knot of flesh, I groaned loudly, pushing myself toward her.

Understanding what I had done to her, she crooked her fingers within me and began rubbing against that spot just within my opening. I felt my eyes roll up as I pressed my head against the pillow. I had never felt anything quite like this before.

I rocked my hips with her and pushed myself up, looking down at the girl as she worked at my sex. I found that I loved to watch her head moving as she gave me that devilish kiss.

As my climax drew near, I could no longer hold myself up. I slid back down to the bed and pulled up my legs, folding them about Monique’s head. I was gasping and moaning as she drew me nearer, until at last my orgasm burst forth and I cried out. I felt I had no control over myself as waves of pleasure washed through me.

In time I relaxed again and closed my eyes. Monique moved to lie next to me and draped her arm over my chest, pulling herself close.

“It was everything I’d hoped,” she said quietly. I simply nodded my head and we went to sleep, naked and uncovered.

The next morning we dressed and I saw her out. I stood in the door and watched her depart. I was about to go back inside when I caught sight of the woman who lived next door to me. She had been sweeping the sidewalk in front of her house, but now stood glaring between Monique and I.

I felt a bit of trepidation, but after only a moment of her stare I smiled and waved happily as if I’d not noticed the woman’s harsh look. Her face softened slightly, and she returned to her sweeping.

Continue on to Chapter 10