While she spoke, Etienne found himself invaded by shame for taking advantage of her vulnerability, yet he could not escape a warm feeling of love for everything about her. He lifted her tenderly in his arms and, without a word, they lounged on the bed buried in their emotions.
Etienne was dreaming or thought that he was, awakening to the warm moist feeling of her mouth’s caresses, probing his erect penis. Justine, keeping his thighs apart with a brushing of her hairs, was hard at work. Her tongue transformed into a steel poker tipped with velvet, darting in a very slow motion just below his anus. The tongue kept moving upward, when her lips opened to suck in one testicle, then the other. In a swift move she swallowed them together, helpless, and pressed them between her teeth. Releasing her prisoners, her tongue transformed into the mellow pulp of a ripe mango as she returned to an attentive penis. She climbed ever so slowly upward to reach the minute nerve ending that was hiding under the prepuce. She opened her lips and with the help of her tongue, she pressed the little pleasure nub in the small spacing between her front teeth, shaking her head from side to side. Etienne was reaching, what felt like, the paroxysm of beatitude and locked himself in the moment. Only the Gods could know that this was only the beginning of his pleasurable ordeal.
Deep inside his body, there was a trembling, at first barely perceptible, but Etienne was jolted when the disruption accelerated. It was difficult to distinguish between light pain and pleasure. His breathing began accelerating. He became conscious of his insides moving as if they were hosting a micro volcano preparing to erupt. He was feeling a swarm of millions of little spermatozoids that had begun a wild dance. He was taken by the pleasure of his inner flesh being picked, brushed, touched, and bumped in all directions. His body was trembling and the inner turmoil resembled the thousands of small fishes of all colors that he had encountered below the coral reef of Isla Mueres. He was scuba diving, enjoying his Mexican vacation when a multitude of little fish began pressing over his body, kissing and sucking his face, his stomach, his arms, his legs from every direction. Today these new aggressors had entered a wild interior bacchanal with intense fervor. The swarm was climbing in search of an exit as it neared his anus. Etienne felt a gentle current of electricity and the little anal diaphragm joined the dance contracting and retracting. The wild parade moved up his penis, very slowly maintaining the high level of intensity of his pleasure. All the while, Justine lips were maintaining his penis deep inside her mouth. Captured in a trance touching the sublime, he felt his penis pulsing to explode, in a full eruption inside her mouth. Her face retracted slightly to avoid choking, but still maintained her prisoner inside in a protective love bite. Etienne’s every nerve, every vein and arteries, every pores of his flesh, every internal organ were accessing a new life, conjuring in perfect harmony to amplify his sensations. Etienne’s soul was bursting in the turmoil of love. Endorphins were pushed by the bloodstream to engrave an indelible mark on his memory. He would forever be demanding, in ransom, repeated returns to these moments of bliss. Justine and Etienne had reached a full communion of feelings, body and soul, she, for having given her lover heavenly bliss, he for having experience the ultimate pleasure of her attentions and already anticipating to return these moments of pure happiness.
After a moment, sensing Etienne had regained a normal rate of breathing, Justine lifted herself, lightly brushing her way up his body to reach his lips, already partly opened in anticipation. She began a kiss sharing with him the fresh nectar of her conquest. “This is breakfast my love, you taste like hazelnut, don’t you agree.” And a second later, she was back at work, holding him down in a kiss of love that they hoped would never end.
Before his departure, Etienne left his associate behind in Paris, “Please interview this young woman for an assignment with our group, we will have some use for her Civil Code legal background,” he asked him, introducing Justine. The associate understood that the request was more a command. The following week, Justine was invited to join the company.
Meeting the accomplices
Under the protection of Isis and Osiris, obstacles were promptly resolved to launch a major urban development program in partnership with the City of Paris. Etienne arrived in Paris, in time to recuperate Justine at Austerlitz. They took a taxi to the Hilton. On the way Etienne was hard at work in a passionate kiss when the driver jolted the car to a sudden stop. From the corner of his eye, Etienne noticed that the driver’s rear mirror was plunging directly between Justine’s slightly parted thighs. His level of excitement climbed a few pegs when he took it upon himself, without arising her suspicion, to enhance the driver’s observation by moving Justine’s thighs as far apart as he could, revealing a diminutive black string in most part swallowed by her pussy. A rare occurrence in a Paris taxi, the driver competed with the hotel doorman to open the rear door of the car in order to voice his appreciation, to Justine’s surprise.
A second surprise was awaiting Justine, when the door of the suite opened and she found herself facing the associate, whom she had met for an interview accompanied by a newcomer. They had been waiting eagerly for Etienne’s arrival to review business issues.
The colleagues would become regular actors in the lover’s lives. She would soon baptize them with the names of the Divin Marquis and the Paysan. It was interesting to learn that the future Paysan was, in his youth, residing a few doors down the street from Justine’s family in Bergerac. Justine found him slow, gauche, awkward, and full of bad habits and bursting with unsound views and pretenses. By respect for the other members of the groups, she tried, most of the time, but with limited success, to restrain her scorn. Fortunately, the good natured Paysan would brush aside her verbal assaults.
The Divin Marquis was another story altogether. He was endowed with a brilliant intelligence, a princely deportment and stately, if not heart-breaking looks. Etienne was not quite certain that the Divin Marquis would not become her lover, was he not in the picture. The Divin Marquis enjoyed demonstrating a twisted side of his soul that was not unpleasant to the other sex and that became especially stimulating for Justine.
It did not take long before he offered her a special gift. The splendid four were sitting over a drink in Etienne’s suite, when the Divin Marquis presented Justine with a package. She opened the package with the excitement of a child. She turned to the Divin Marquis in shock. Blushing, she went, “May I ask what this is?” The Marquis began laughing loudly, “This, my dear Justine is the story of Justine written by the Marquis de Sade. This is a version presented in cartoon images. It could be your own story.” Justine began to turn the pages, attempting to hide her embarrassment or could it be excitement at the explicit drawings. She jumped on her feet and gave the Divin Marquis the introduction of a passionate kiss. Etienne was quite happy to share in Justine’s excitement.
At that very moment, the Divin Marquis was granted his letters of nobility. He took great pleasure in narrating the biography of his spiritual father:
“The Marquis de Sade, he began, was born on June 2, 1740. He was a French aristocrat, a revolutionary politician, a philosopher, and a writer famous for his libertine sexuality and lifestyle. He was a proponent of extreme freedom, unrestrained by morality, religion, or law. De Sade’s most famous book is ‘Justine or the misfortune of virtue’. I hope your experiences, my dear Justine, have nothing to do with misfortune and I am quite certain, that Etienne is an excellent guardian of your virtue.” The Divin Marquis continued. “The issues of sexual violence, sadomasochism, and pedophilia stunned his contemporaries.” Etienne would learn very soon to appreciate some of these traits in his lover. Although they would never resort to violent or immoral behavior, they would learn to include mind stimulations and pretenses of exceeding the boundaries of proper manners, to enhance the excitement of their foreplay and of their love games.
There followed an intense period, when work took over, in order to insure the success of the Paris operation. Justine was present at Etienne’s side, his new
executive assistant. She demonstrated the same ardor at work. She made it a point of honor to maintain the secrecy of their private relationship.
Avoiding a storm
Financial support for the Paris project began to dwindle when the group’s Australian institutional partner and principal financial backer was caught in a scandal on the home front. The president of the financing institution, a sponsor of the project from day one, was fired. The board of directors halted all financing programs and appointed a trustee. The foreseeable delays were placing the group in a difficult position. The problem had become critical. A week earlier, the Mayor of the City had announced the project officially at a press conference. The situation demanded prompt action to reassure City management with an acceptable financing alternative. A solution in the short term appeared quasi impossible under the circumstances.
In the heavens, the protectors Isis and Osiris were observing the developments. They feared that the manipulations of Horus were at the source of the problems. Their confidence added renewed impulse to Etienne’s unmovable faith in his luck of being protected by the Gods. His life had been a succession of instances when the marvelous appeared on his side to assist him overcoming both small and at times near insurmountable challenges.
The events of the following months would bring a glimpse of the marvelous that would continue nurturing Justine and Etienne’s relationship over the years, paving the road to pursue their love quest. He would not leave a stone unturned. His group secured the support of the Mayor of Paris to share the project with French interests in a partnership.
Justine was soon adopted as the group’s mascot, enhancing the meetings and dinners with her wonderful smile and her beauty. Beauty that never went unnoticed and in one incident among many, a senior partner of the group, in an open attempt to gain her favors, offered to acquire for her a giant chandelier adorning the entrance of a Paris Palace, rue de Castiglione. Despite suspicions, her relationship with Etienne was never confirmed. It allowed her to enjoy the feeling of being a potential free game for these avid hunters. The silent support of the Divin Marquis of the Paysan was of great value. Fearing the worst from the proximity of the company’s personnel in the hotel, Justine decided to take an apartment at Place de la Republique, to give time to let the potential of suspicion dwindle.
Les Champs
The Avenue is one of the most famous streets in the world for upmarket shopping and, yes, with avenue Montaigne and rue François 1er, a clear favorite of Justine. How often through the years, would Etienne be drawn into, as a willing escort, one of Justine’s window-shopping sprees? To be fair, Justine was always a judicious shopper, very concerned about excessive expenses on herself. She would, by far, prefer to channel money to worthy charities. Fortunately for Etienne’s wallet, over her unique body features, a regular handkerchief looked like a designer creation.
The Champs-Élysées, originally a large field, were extended as one of the world’s grandest avenues by Marie de Medici, Louis XIII’s Italian spouse. It stretches for kilometers from the Louvres and the Tuileries gardens. On Bastille Day, the French national holiday, Etienne became a regular guest at a military pageant at Place de l’Étoile, centering the majestic avenue.
Strolling on the broad sidewalk on that early December evening, Justine and Etienne were engulfed amidst an endless river of multicolored lights and ribbons. With the magic of the surroundings sharpening his senses, Etienne released his hand to attend to the soft inner flesh of Justine’s arm. She would answer the challenge, taking his hand back and pushing out the tip of her breast to brush his arm. A silent combat would erupt. He would challenge her, placing his hand on the milky softness of her hip that was playing hide and seek between her shirt and her skirt, in the rhythm with her steps. She would return fire prompting the hardening tip of her breast to poke his side. He would let his hand slip down lifting her skirt to travel her buttock, to be pulled up back to her waist, confronted by a look, hard in reproach, “A middle age gentleman should not put his hand on a young lady’s butt in public.”
Etienne was reassured by her body language contradicting her words and signaling that a discreet gesture was more than welcomed.
La Closerie des Lilacs
The quality of the team’s work was providing Etienne with welcomed free time. He was spending a large portion of that free time in bed, curiously exploring endless avenues of loving. It was often to the despair of chambermaids, expecting, by midafternoon, to end their shift. On evenings, the lovers would join the team for an exploration of the City of Lights followed by diner. The company would buy diner for the team member who could gain a consensus for his suggestion of an interesting dining place. The team mascot was getting a lot of attention from all the players. She would converse cheerfully, moving from man to man in turn. She always found the words to please and to stimulate their male ego. On that evening, Philippe, the chief engineer, recommended La Closerie des Lilacs.
Etienne selected a round table near the famous garden. The Brasserie was one of his favorite Paris restaurants. When wrapped in the brasserie’s extensive late nineteen century décor, he always felt in communion with those great writers and artists that he had learned to appreciate in the course of his classical education.
From being a simple, flowery open-air café, la Closerie des Lilacs through the years had become the meeting place for artists from all over the world. Emile Zola brought his friend Paul Cézanne here. He loved to play chess with Lenin on the terrace. Paul Fort was the prince of poets, taking after other regulars of the like of Paul Verlaine and Jarry a dear friend. The story goes that Jarry was once sitting next to a beautiful yet frosty woman. Fed up with being ignored, he pulled out his gun, shot the mirror in front of her and said, “Mademoiselle, now that the ice is broken, let’s talk!” During prohibition, la Closerie became one of the favorite watering holes of American ex-pats of the likes of Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Miller. Etienne’s sensitive soul could imagine hearing the long bearded Paul Verlaine reciting these verses to his drinking partners.
“Les sanglots longs des violons de l’automne,
bercent mon cœur d’une langueur monotone.”
Verlaine
Etienne sent the poem that he had scribbled on a napkin to Justine sitting across the table. After a brief smile of acknowledgment, she returned to the conversation that had captured Philippe, sitting on her right. Etienne could see a Philippe quite taken when he bent to whisper in her ear. Etienne noticed that Justine, far from removing her head, appeared to press it against his mouth. Etienne could not swear to it, but he suspected seeing Philippe’s tongue pulling slowly from the inside of Justine ear. If Justine had not lowered her head, he would have seen the malicious smile emerging from her face and the ripple of the tablecloth pointing accusingly to a hand running over her thigh.
On the way back to the hotel, Etienne found Justine especially excited. She could not wait for the elevator door to close, to pin him against the wall mirror and press all of herself against him. Her lips were leading in a wild, deep, wet, telltale kiss. Etienne excitement rose to a peak when she began stripping her clothes, one piece at the time. She walked languorously from the elevator. She was totally naked, when she reached the door of the suite, waving at the security camera. Etienne, incapable of any serious restraint, pushed her against the door. Splitting her ass open, his fingers felt the moisture of the love juices trickling down her thighs. He rammed into her again and again with passionate fury. He could feel his pleasure doubling at the thought of her brief infidelity. Her orgasm was accompanied by a funny sounding giggle that was heavy with meaning. He pulled out of her, spraying her back with joy’s drops of bliss.
He was still holding her tightly, when he heard steps approaching. He just had time to turn, partly hiding her and lifting his zipper. “Is everything in order sir?” said the security officer, his head moving from side to side in an attempt to improve his view of Justine. Facetiously, Etienne moved slowly to the side, reveal
ing a fully naked Justine. Her lips were travelling around her thumb, sucking in and out languorously and smiling for the guard’s great pleasure. “Madame just had a small malaise,” Etienne explained to the guard, throwing a wink toward his new found accomplice, “Everything seems to be back to normal.”
“You are sure sir?” answered the guard. He moved toward the elevator, attempting to dissimulate a rising bulge in his pants. Etienne could see the look of disappointment on his face.
St-James et Albany
The team moved to the St-James et Albany, rue du Rivoli. The hotel was offering a more reasonable contract for the group and a unique location, under the arches of Avenue de Rivoli, along the Tuileries Garden. Just a short walk to the Louvre, Opera Garnier, Place Vendome and Place de la Concorde, the hotel was indeed a unique starting point for the group’s evening exploration. It also became an exciting platform to spring our lovers to new adventures. Justine was quite taken by the history of the building, posted in the inner court of the hotel. In this secluded haven, Marie Antoinette would escape to meet Lafayette, one of her lovers, upon his returns from trips to America.
Justine insisted on booking the Marie Antoinette suite. Curiously, the suite was on the rez de chaussé level, separated from the lobby bar salon by a glass partition covered by long drapes to allow privacy. It is said that the Queen, following a fire at her Versailles apartment, always insisted on living on the ground floor.
Etienne was returning from the car with the luggage, helping the porter with the heavy suitcase. He noticed that the concierge was extending more than the usual attention to Justine. He was helping her to a lobby sofa holding her arms, while his face was plunging in the periphery of her half open blouse. The concierge insisted on helping the porter to bring the luggage to the suite. He took his time to show the guests around the room, giving a detailed description of the facilities and mostly keeping his eyes on Justine. From the look on her face, she did not seem to mind. When the concierge finally left, Etienne, exhausted after a long work day, took Justine in his arms and placed her on the bed. His lips caught hers in a kiss and keeping his hold, he fell asleep.
The Labyrinth of Passion (romantic experiences) Page 18
