Chapter Six

During the course of the next week I could not prevent myself from playing the coquette with the Count on occasion. One evening, when he passed me in the corridor and there was no one else around, he asked politely if he might kiss me again. I omitted to say that the Count was an excellent kisser, his kisses both firm yet tender, sensuous yet urgent. I was ready for more, and I said that he might embrace me again, but only for one minute, and that he might not put his hands anywhere intimate upon my person. He respected these conditions, but the intensity of his kisses nearly caused me to swoon in his arms. I wished for a moment I had not resolved to make him wait.

I pause for a moment to consider the possibility that some of my readers are surprised and even shocked by such conduct in a girl brought up in the conventional morality of our age. Unmarried girls do not give themselves to men; at least, if they do so it is only after a good deal of persuasion, enticements and perhaps an application of strong drink as well. None of this was the case with me. The Count had exerted no undue pressure, merely made clear his desire, and he had offered me no inducements. I entered into my relationship with him solely because I wished it. That, perhaps, is the most truly shocking thing of all. But in my defense I can say that I have never been guilty of the hypocrisy and prudishness which are so often the norm among girls of my age. I enjoy physical intimacy; indeed, I need it. But I do not confuse it with love. Nor do I believe that I should wait until I have found the latter before indulging myself in the former. The Count seemed to me an ideal companion for my stage of life: a man of pleasant character, well placed to offer me agreeable society and advance my sexual proficiency, but not encumbered by other attachments, since it was clear that he and his wife led almost totally separate lives. And he was a man to whom I was physically attracted.

The following weekend I indicated to the Count that when we found ourselves alone I should give him a full answer to his proposition. Accordingly, after dinner on Saturday, when the servants had left us, I sat on the sofa and invited the Count to sit beside me.

“Let me be clear, dear Count,” I said. “Though I like you exceedingly, I do not love you, and have no intention of forming a romantic attachment. However, I have needs, as you do. I believe that you would be good to me and that I could enjoy much pleasure in your company, and so I am willing, indeed eager, for you to take me to bed. But there must be rules. Some I have already alluded to. In particular, there will be no amorous activity while the children are in the house. Secondly, you will only divulge our liaison to such persons as I approve in advance. Thirdly, I have the right to refuse you, or to refuse certain acts, at any time, and without necessarily having to give reasons. Lastly, you should not at any time refrain from any erotic practices because you think that I might not care for them or might be shocked. I can assure you that I am anxious to learn, and although I may not chose to participate in everything you propose, I should always like to be given the opportunity to consider it. Now, do you agree to these things?”

The Count fell to his knees, as before, and kissed my hand. “Bella,” he said. “Bellissima. My lady, you have my full agreement to it all.”

“Then, Count,” I said, smiling, “You may call me Jane.”

Upstairs, the Count took me into his bedroom. It was well removed from the servants’ quarters, indeed secluded from the rest of the house. I wondered if that was by intention; how many other ladies had he conducted to this room? I did not much care. Indeed, if he had much experience, it was all to the good for me. He kissed me, again with that intensity I found so compelling. Then he began, with pleasing expertise, to divest me of my clothing. (If a man struggles with buttons and laces it does not serve to stoke passion.) Soon I was naked except for my drawers. The Count gazed upon me, his eyes reveling in the sight of my breasts, my belly.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he said.

He pushed me gently down onto the bed and pulled down my drawers. He put the palm of his hand over my pudenda, slowly running his fingers through my bush. Then he bent to kiss me there. I did not expect such intimacy so soon, but it was none the less gratifying. Some men when they kiss in that place are harsh, believing that it is manly to be rough, but I prefer a delicate touch, and the Count immediately sensed this. He curled his tongue slowly around the lips, licking and softly sucking them. I had the sensation that he relished the taste of my cunt, savoring it upon his tongue. His tongue slid between the lips, plumbing the inner depths before drawing slowly up between them until he found my clitoris.

The moment he had discovered that delightful spot, I knew that I had chosen a lover wisely. He rolled it around his tongue, as if he were sampling a fine wine. He cradled it, flicked it from side to side, then caressed it in a manner that made me sigh deeply. He came back up to lie alongside me, his hand between my legs, gently manipulating me, while he bent and took one of my nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it, softly at first, then harder and harder. I groaned with pleasure. Emboldened, he sucked harder, then his teeth fastened around my nipple, as he still fondled my clit. His teeth closed, tighter and tighter. I gasped. “Oh god,” I moaned. “Please, oh please.”

His teeth gripped my nipple harder. I grunted with pain and pleasure. All the while he did not cease to stroke my clit, with a connoisseur’s finesse. I began to writhe, arching my back, trying to escape the pain on my nipple yet at the same time reveling in it. At last be broke off, and propping himself on one arm looked down on me with an amused air.

“So, my modest little Jane, I have found something that you like.”

For answer, I put my arm around his neck and drew his mouth down to my nipple once more. I was shameless, in the grip of a passion I had been contemplating ever since my arrival in this house. And it was months and months since I last was naked with another. My accumulated desire burst forth as the Count began to explore both my body and my responses to his caresses.

After a while, my body now trembling in anticipation of more, he broke away and stood up. Looking me straight in the eye but not speaking he began to undress. I stared back, enjoying the sight of his body as he disrobed. Eschewing false modesty, he stripped naked and stood there for a moment, doubtless enjoying my evident admiration of his manhood. I had, of course, little experience of the male member. At the time I had no idea whether Pierre’s cock had been exceptional in any way, since apart from a brief sight of Desmond’s, I had no other cock to compare it with, but I could see that the Count’s was larger. Not perhaps greatly so, but there was definitely a greater girth, and perhaps another half inch or so of length. However, subsequent experience, and discussion with other women, has shown me that the mere size of a cock is no indication of the degree of pleasure it may give. The fact that the Count proved to be a more imaginative lover than Pierre derived not from his proportions but from his mentality. The Count, as I was to discover, was a man who truly adored the female body.

Right now his attentions were wholly focused on mine. He lay alongside me and began once more to caress me, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples, squeezing my cunt too, his hand wrapped around the lips, before so softly stroking it, teasing my clit into full arousal. He turned me over and, gently stroking my bottom, made some comments about its being well-proportioned. I wondered for a moment whether he would use me as Pierre had done, in the manner a man might use a boy, but this was not his intention this first time. He turned me back again and lay on top of me, prizing my legs apart. I felt his cock pressing at the entrance to my cunt. Casting aside all modesty and shame, I opened my legs wide and bent them at the knees, adjusting my position so that he might gain entrance. He did so, a moment that thrilled me to my core. The Count began to fuck me, slowly at first, then with increasing vigor. I was consumed with desire, moaning with pleasure, my arms around his neck, my lips pressed against his ear. I thought for a moment that I should climax while he was in me, but in fact I did not. He came himself, which was pleasurable to me. Then, having withdrawn, he lay once more beside me and with great expertise and tenderness brought me to orgasm with his hand.

After this we lay beside one another in bed, talking. He wanted to know my complete sexual history – such as it was. I told him about Helen, and about Pierre. He questioned me on many points of detail, wishing to know exactly what I liked and did not like, and pressing me to tell him of my thoughts too. What fantasies did I have? What things should I like to try? I confess that once passion had somewhat abated I felt shy. Some of my darker thoughts I did not at that time reveal to him, though eventually the Count was to worm out of me every last lascivious thought that had ever up to that point entered my mind.

I asked him a little about himself. He was reluctant to say much. He said that should he tell of his sexual experiences I should believe him to be a libertine not fit for the company of a well brought-up young lady.

“Tell me, then,” I said, “not of how many there have been, but of the variety of things you have experienced. What we have just done must seem very ordinary to a man like you.”

“Ordinary? In no way,” he said. “The pleasure you have given me was exquisite. But I confess I have had many and varied satisfactions with other girls. And with other men.”

“With other men?” I was curious.

“I have no desire for other men as such,” he said. “But I like to share. Two men and one woman is an excellent combination. And although the woman is the centre of attention, I am not averse to exchanging a few caresses with my companion.”

I thought about this. “The exact opposite to my own experience, which is two girls and a single man.”

“Two men is a better fit,” the Count said with a smile. “A woman can easily accommodate two gentlemen, indeed more if needed. A man cannot satisfy two women at once.”

I giggled. “I don’t see why not, if he is willing to work hard. Besides a cock, he has a mouth and two hands, does he not?”

The Count contemplated this. “Should you like to try such combinations?”

“I should like to try many things,” I said.

“Then I shall see what I can do,” the Count replied.

He was as good as his word, but not before he had explored my body further. I have related how Pierre liked to use a woman from behind, penetrating that smaller and tighter orifice. The Count also had a taste for this form of pleasure. Indeed, I began to think that perhaps all men liked to use women equally well in either place, though subsequently I have discovered that this is not the case. There are men who find rear entry (or let us call it by a franker name, buggery) distasteful, and even some who hold that it is wrong and unnatural. For my part, if it gives a man pleasure to use me in that way, I am more than happy to accommodate him, and I like well to be fucked in this manner. Something about it appeals to my licentious and transgressive character. If something is deemed unnatural, that makes me all the more eager to try it. Fortunately, the Count had plenty of experience, and he did not hurt me, though I felt considerably stretched.

The following weekend after our first amatory encounter he told me that he had invited a friend to dinner, the artist whose studio we had visited. The Count indicated that after dinner he would invite the artist to play with us. “Something special for dessert,” he said.

The artist’s name was Renzo. I don’t think I mentioned this before, but he is a handsome man, tall, with a mane of black hair. We had a most enjoyable dinner; I made sure not to eat too much, since I find sexual exercise on a full stomach not comfortable. But, being slightly nervous, I did drink two or three glasses of the Count’s excellent wine.

When the table had been cleared and the servants retired, the Count ushered us upstairs to his bedroom. He and Renzo sat down in armchairs, leaving me standing in the centre of the room. I was very aware of both men’s eyes on me.

“I should like you to disrobe for us, Jane,” the Count said. “I think Renzo will be interested to cast a professional eye over your body. Perhaps he might like to paint you.”

I said nothing but began to undress. When I was down to my drawers the Count stood up and approached me. He took me by the shoulders and turned me towards Renzo.

“Pretty breasts, do you not think?”

Renzo stared at my bosom. I had an urge to cover it with my arms, but I resisted. I did not wish him to think me a prude, a man who must be used to seeing women naked and regarding them with a dispassionate eye. The Count took one of my nipples between his finger and thumb, and tugged on it. I could feel it getting hard.

“Are these the kinds of breasts you like to paint?” the Count asked.

“They are perfect,” Renzo said. “Admirably firm, well-shaped, not too small, and not too large. Enticing nipples.”

I blushed, as I always did at compliments. The Count pulled my drawers down, letting them fall to the floor. Again I had an urge to cover myself, but forced my arms to stay by my side. The Count turned me round.

“And a bottom to match, do you not agree?” he said.

I could feel Renzo staring at my behind. “Very trim,” he said. “And such adorable little dimples above the buttocks.”

I cannot say that I had ever noticed them before, though since that moment other men have echoed Renzo’s comment. The Count gave a little smack to my bottom. I squealed.

“It’s my belief that you are a girl who enjoys a little pain with her pleasure,” the Count said. “One day soon I intend to explore that. In the meantime, tell me what you think of the rest of her.”

With that the Count turned me to face Renzo. He looked at me carefully. “Artists don’t like a full bush,” he said, staring between my legs. “It goes against the conventions.”

“If she were your model I am sure she would shave for you, but until that time I see no need for it,” the Count said. “I like a pretty little tuft.”

I blushed at such an intimate remark. The Count now led me to the bed and began to undress. When he was naked he beckoned Renzo to approach.

“Undress him,” the Count said. “It is well that you know how a gentleman’s attire is put together.”

It was true that I had little practical knowledge of men’s clothes. I unbuttoned his topcoat and removed it. Underneath was an embroidered waistcoat, which I also took off. I got down on my knees and unlaced his boots, taking them off together with his under socks. Next I undid his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a smooth, well-sculpted chest, over which I could not resist running my palm. The shirt came off and I knelt again to unbutton his trousers, pulling them right down over his ankles. He was now clad only in a pair of men’s white linen drawers. I paused for a moment and looked across at the Count. He gave a smile of encouragement. I undid the button at his waist and the drawers fell to the floor, to reveal Renzo’s cock, fully erect. I decided at this point that I would have no truck with false modesty. Bending my head, I took him in my mouth.

Like most of the men I have encountered, Renzo was uncircumcised. I cannot say that I have a distinct preference, but I have found that a foreskin is sometimes pleasant to play with. Pierre had shown me how to push the foreskin back with my lips, revealing the sensitive gland beneath. I did this and sucked hard; I was pleased to hear Renzo give a gasp of pleasure. I stroked his balls gently, then slowly squeezed them. He grunted again with pleasure, I hoped. I moved his cock in and out of my mouth, then held it with my other hand while I licked over the glans and down the shaft. Carefully I sucked one of his balls into my mouth. Renzo groaned. I glanced sideways and saw the Count watching with a smile on his face. Evidently he approved.

Warming to my task, I took Renzo as far into my mouth as I could manage, his cock almost completely buried. In such a position I could not breathe properly, but I held my breath long enough for him to enjoy the sensation of his whole cock enveloped by an eager mouth and tongue and the end embedded in my throat. I pulled back and gasped for air.

“This girl is good,” Renzo said. “Either she has been well-trained or she has natural talent.”

I was sucking the glans now, holding it in my mouth, now running my tongue around it. One hand still caressed Renzo’s balls.

“I think she has received some instruction, though she assures me she has little experience. In fact, I am only the second man to have possessed her. And you will be the third,” the Count replied.

Renzo put his hand to the back of my head and pushed me down onto his cock once more, thrusting deep into my mouth. This time I almost choked. Renzo pulled out, then thrust in again. He was powerfully aroused.

“Bring her over here,” the Count said. “I can’t let you monopolize her.” He laughed. “Still less choke her to death.”

I felt it was with some reluctance that Renzo disengaged his cock and led me to the bed. The Count was reclining on his back. I knelt over him and immediately took him in my mouth. As I sucked him I wondered what it might feel like to have two cocks in my mouth at once. Perhaps I should find out. But in the meantime, Renzo positioned me to his liking, my knees about a foot apart, my back arched, my bottom thrust outwards. As I sucked the Count I felt Renzo’s cock nestle at the entrance to my cunt, then it entered with a long slow but firm thrust until it was lodged inside. For a moment Renzo did not move. Then I felt his cock pull back a little before thrusting forwards again. I moaned with pleasure, despite my mouth being full of the Count’s cock. I found it hard to concentrate on the Count’s pleasure while Renzo drove into me with greater and greater vigor; however, the Count reached out and grabbed my hair, steadying my head, holding me in position for his cock. I did the best I could; I already had a sense that I should like to please the Count as much as I was able. I wanted him to have a high opinion of my sexual talents, and because he had been kind to me I wanted to give him satisfaction. Renzo, on the other hand, I had no particular feelings about; he was simply a handsome man with a nice cock who could give me pleasure.

That he did. He was a man who appreciated the joys of fucking. Perhaps, dear reader, you are surprised to hear me say such a thing. Is there a man who does not appreciate them? I would reply that almost all men profess to enjoy sexual activity, but in practice many of them behave in a way that suggests they wish the experience to be over as soon as possible. Their urge is all towards orgasm, which they are determined to achieve with rapidity. But some few men, among them both Renzo and the Count, have a connoisseur’s liking for the female body and its responses, and seek to prolong the delights of intercourse rather than bring them to a speedy conclusion.

Renzo fucked me hard, but I could tell that he had no intention of climaxing quickly. Instead, he would periodically pause, his cock buried deep inside me, to allow the pressure of desire to abate somewhat, before resuming his thrusts. In this way he must have continued intercourse for about twenty minutes. For my part, I was greatly aroused by this, being brought closer and closer to an orgasm of my own, though I doubted whether I should achieve it merely by fucking.

While Renzo busied himself behind me, I did my best to pay attention to the Count. He likewise, I decided, was not eager for a quick release. Now and again he would reach down and pull me back by my hair, releasing his cock from my mouth. At such a moment he would look down at me, with an expression on his face of perfect bliss. I was pleased to gratify him.

Neither man had come when they both, by mutual consent, decided to switch positions. Accordingly, the Count knelt behind and mounted me. I could sense some slight difference in the two men. To the eye it looked to me as if the Count’s cock was, though perhaps of equal length to Renzo’s, nevertheless of a greater girth. I think most women who have experience several cocks will tell you that length is not so much an issue, but that a thicker cock will give more satisfaction. I felt as if the Count filled me just a little more, and I was pleased with that. I was now faced with the prospect of servicing Renzo’s cock with my mouth, and it was not long before, forcing my head down hard, he was near to choking me again. I struggled and came up for air, but he forced my head down once more. I was not displeased at this. I love cock, and I love to suck, the deeper the better; only I had not too much experience as yet of how to give the maximum pleasure while ensuring that one stays breathing!

Neither man had yet come to a climax. I determined that before this should happen and their cocks lose their hardness I should like to try both at once in my mouth. I requested of the Count that he should disengage for a moment, and he gracefully complied.

“Gentlemen,” I said, putting on my most winsome air, “would you indulge a poor innocent girl in one of her fantasies? Something she has conceived of but never yet enacted?”

“And what would that be,” the Count asked, full of curiosity.

I sat on the edge of the bed. “Come to me,” I said, beckoning them to stand together in front of me. When they were in position, I sank to my knees and took a cock in each hand. I gently maneuvered them into position so that the two cocks were, as far as anatomy allowed, side by side, then I opened my mouth wide and took them both in. I don’t know what the experience was like for the two men; for me it was not so much that it gave great physical satisfaction, but the idea of it was greatly appealing, to have two cocks in my mouth at once.

Having achieved this, however, I was anxious to attempt something which I was sure would be more physically stimulating for all of us.

“Gentlemen,” I said, removing their cocks from my mouth, “there is one more thing I should like to have. After that, you may use me in any way you please, to your hearts’ content.”

Renzo smiled. “Such a naughty girl,” he said. “Who would think to look at you, Jane, such a demure little thing?”

I smiled back. “Now that my mouth has been gratified, I wish to know what it feels like to be doubly penetrated in my remaining orifices. You may choose which of you goes where.”

The Count took hold of me and pulled me onto the bed. Lying on his back, he had me straddle him and lodged his cock firmly in my cunt. Renzo lay behind me and busied himself with my ass, licking it in such a way that I derived great delight. Then he positioned himself behind me. He must have used some preparation to lubricate himself, because when he pressed his cock against my asshole I felt it sliding in quite easily. I pressed down to afford him as easy an entrance as possible; he pushed in gently until he had buried his cock in me. It was an odd sensation, to be doubly manned in this way. I felt full, almost too full. I also felt that if either man began to fuck me vigorously I would only with difficulty retain them both inside me. But I need not have worried; these were two experienced practitioners of the erotic arts, so much so that I wondered if they had performed this trick together with a previous partner.

I very rarely come from intercourse alone, but this was an exception. I am not sure whether it was the physical stimulation of being doubly penetrated, or whether it was the idea of it that so aroused me. Either way, I could feel after they had both been fucking me for a few minutes that I should soon climax. Such was my excitement that it became increasingly difficult to hold them both inside, despite their evident skill, but then I felt myself lifted on the crest of a wave. My cunt trembled and clenched in a spasm of pleasure and I know that I cried out, though what I said I have no idea.

When I got my breath back the two men were still inside me. I now had regard for their pleasure, having obtained my own satisfaction, and I indicated to each of them that I was at their disposal in any way they wished. The Count withdrew his cock, still hard, from my cunt, and Renzo too pulled out. I asked the Count again, what was his pleasure? Without a word he pulled me off the bed and had me kneeling on the floor. Standing over me he began to rub his cock. It was not long before, with an oath, he shot a ribbon of semen onto my face. This was a new experience for me, to watch the man’s ejaculation and to receive it in such an intimate manner. Some ladies may think that such an act shows a lack of respect. I believe quite the opposite; I took it as a tribute from the Count to my sexual appeal.

I wiped my face. “Back on the bed,” said Renzo, in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. He had me kneel once more and again he put his cock into my ass. This time I was more than ready for him. I turned to look at the Count as Renzo buggered me; I could see how much pleasure he derived from watching. Renzo, like the Count, was not long in spending himself, his cock spurting forth deep in my ass. I felt it growing limp and then it slipped out; not without a little pang of disappointment on my side. But I need not have worried; the two men were not finished yet, not by a long way.