Fanchon's Book(51)

And again Rosalba volunteered her services. "A bath, Madame? Oh, please let me help:"

"My dear, you don't have to-"

"Madame? Please? For old times' sake?"

So willing. When she smiled so wistfully, how could I resist? Then too, I hadn't yet shaken off my "dungeon" uneasiness; perhaps it would restore some of my self-confidence to be pampered a little. To be attended by a servant who put me on a pedestal instead of grinding me into the dust.

Just like old times, then, and we both plunged back into the past. The indulgent mistress and the adoring maid, such a charming pageant! and sexy too after a while as Rosalba's coy glances and cunning caresses became an obvious courtship. Nor could I see any reason to dissuade her; I was already looking forward to sampling the bizarrerie of that vibrating tongue again. When she dried my body and dusted my skin with after-bath powder, I readily accepted the ministrations of her trespassing hands. And the more intimate incursion of her lips.

"Rosalba… " I patted the top of her head. She seemed to be happy down there; how could I be other than generous? "Would you like to stay for a day or two? Until you figure out what to do about your husband?"

"Umm, yes, Madame. Thank you."

She went on thanking me in her own inimitable manner and I felt it, the tongue, the hot fluttering tongue; nor did she stop when the bathroom door was pushed open. With her face buried between my thighs, Rosalba probably didn't even see it. But I did. Only for an instant, but that was plenty. Kristi stared coldly and then, with a shrug of indifference, swung around and vanished. Not a word. Just a look. But it was enough to give me a chill and I had to stifle the impulse to shove the kissing mouth away and go chasing after her. I stood firm, though, congratulating myself on my display of fortitude. Of independence. Such sangfroid! and it must have been because of the uneasy mood that had beset me. Oh sure, I wished she hadn't caught me in the act like that (how flagrant can a delicto get!) but I didn't regret it as much as I ordinarily might have. When I thought of the cellar and lying on my back and what she had done to"Madame?"

"Hmm?"

"Is-is there something wrong? You're not… uh… "

A tug at Rosalba's hair silenced her lips; her tongue-tip returned, making a slithery search for my spot of concentrated sensitivity, finding it, touching it with that titillating turbulence; no, her tongue had lost none of its technique. But she had cause for concern and so did I, damn the luck! the crucial spot was all but numb now and my body wasn't responding. I didn't feel the melting joy, the wave of warmth to welcome the onrushing orgasm, damn, damn, damn it to hell, the orgasm wasn't even oncoming, much less rushing.

I cursed Kristi's interruption and almost cursed Kristi herself; did she have a monopoly on all of me? Was her checkrein on my emotions so binding that I couldn't experience a purely physical reflex to a purely physical stimulus? Could she actually contravene the contact of that tickling tongue on my clitoris? No, I wouldn't admit that. Not without a fight.

If need be, then, let my approach be clinical. The surroundings first, the cramped circumstances-standing awkwardly in the bathroom like this made it just too difficult; why not get comfortable? Why not stretch out on the bed and spread my legs and deliver my flesh to that nice vibrating pressure. The carnal reaction was bound to occur.

"Rosalba… "

"Mmm?"

"This is silly. Come. The bathroom is no place for-"

"Madame… oh, please"-clutching my thighs "don't go… "