said, “I will come to you in the evening, like this, to kiss you goodnight...”
He had a moment of daring. As the hand which had slipped beneath his chin was withdrawn, he raised his head suddenly and pressed his lips to it; then, red as a peony, he turned his head to the wall at his bedside.
“Goodnight, Richard,” she said.
And she disappeared.
At this moment Mr. Lovel was also in bed, lying beside his mistress in the rosy light of the bedroom in her flat where he now spent the greater part of his evenings; and he had just withdrawn from the warm embrace of her anal sheath after spending in it with extraordinary satisfaction. On this occasion Kate was wearing, for the caprice of her protector, the workingdress of the high-class Parisian prostitute of the time, a short transparent chemise over a narrow tightly laced corset, long black silk stockings tightly gartered at mid thigh and a pair of glacé kid boots with immoderately high heels: in this suggestive costume the whiteness and opulence of her superb body had appeared with such striking and voluptuous effect that she had to withstand two separate amorous assaults in succession before her protector’s passions were momentarily sated and she was able to revert to the question of Richard’s governess.
“Why,” said Mr. Lovel, “I suppose you would call her a handsome woman, Kate, but it’s a type that makes no impression on me. Miss Marwood is much too straitlaced, I find.”
“That’s just as well. But did she strike you as being likely to break your boy of that habit of his?”
“I don’t know. All I can say is that if anyone can do it, she is the one.” He laughed. “She looks like a regular martinet, a holy terror. I don’t envy the boy.”
“Ah well, it’s for his own good. He’ll thank us all for it some day.” And crooking one handsome leg in its tight black stocking she coquettishly laid the soft kid of her boot in his lap, counting on it making its effect on his sensuality in due time. “Do you think it will take long?”
“I’ve no idea, Kate. – That’s a very handsome boot you have on, my dear. Raise it up, will you?”
“There you are,” she said, raising her bare thigh. “You like my new boots then? I saw them in Dover Street yesterday and bought them with you in mind.”
Mr. Lovel bit the toe of her boot softly, then pressed the soft kid of the upper against his cheek. “Ah, you’re a dear girl, Kate. D’you know, I find I don’t see half as much of you as I’d like. I’ve gotten into needing you at the oddest times, my dear – in the middle of the night, first thing in the morning, and so on. Yes, that’s right, rub your other boot over my genitals ...” He kissed the smartly-shod foot before him with slowly mounting emotion.
“My poor Arthur,” said Kate. “I had no idea you wanted me so often. It seems that whenever you are here you are fucking my bum or my mouth, and I thought that was enough.” She reached for his testicles with a warm hand and began kneading them delicately. “Oh, it’s a terrible thing for a man to have an erection in his bed all by himself, it’s such a waste.”
“And with a mistress like you to remember and think of,” he said, gripping her leather-shod foot, “one’s almost obliged to masturbate as if one were a damned boy oneself. Listen, Kate, I tell you what: you must come and sleep at my house. Now that my poor wife has gone, there can be no complications. You’ll come, won’t you?”
“My darling Arthur,” cried Kate, beside herself with joy, “it’s what I have always longed for, didn’t you know? Oh, many and many’s the long night I’ve been tossing and turning in this lonely bed too, with my arse itching to have your prick in it, and my hands empty and craving to be holding your sweet balls, and my throat dry with wanting the taste of your seed.
“Yes, Arthur, let all that be over and done with, and let me share your bed and your pleasure every night as a man’s whore should.”
He took her head between his hands and made the rare gesture of kissing her on the lips. “You shall come tomorrow,” he said.
“Now who is the happiest woman in the world!” the good creature cried, jumping up. “For that, I must give you the finest frigging ever a man had! Come, sit down on the stool there now, and put your legs apart.”
Arthur rose and sat on the low stool with his legs widely spread, while Kate, drawing up a high chair, sat down facing him and then, raising her own legs and laying her heels on either side of his testicles, she took his half-awakened member between the sides of her boots and began rolling and rubbing it skilfully against the velvety leather of the uppers. Arthur’s eyes shone with pleasure as he followed the slow voluptuous movements of her feet.
“That’s a grand way to be frigged when you’re in the mood for boots, isn’t it?” she said archly.
Arthur looked from her flushed face to his member which was slowly swelling from the soft friction of the leather, and then to her own widerspread thighs which, with her chemise now well tucked up; displayed the charming slit of her sex opening and shutting with the rotation of her hips as she kept masturbating him in this ingenious manner.
“Dear Kate,” he said, “you can frig a man better with your feet than many a whore can do with her two hands, indeed you can.”
“Ah, I’m only too glad I can, since you like it so well. But now you’ve got me so hot I must frig myself too.” And parting the lips of her vulva she attacked her swollen clitoris with passionate fingers.
The sight completed the process of her lover’s erection; and as his member throbbed and pulsated between the churning, kneading feet he kept his eyes fixed, now on it and now on his mistress’ masturbation of herself, until he felt the pleasure of the crisis threading his loins imperiously and discharged his sperm freely into the air. Then, sinking back in happy exhaustion, he followed with critical appreciation the course which Kate was following in the achievement of her own orgasm before his eyes.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning at seven o’clock Harriet, fully dressed, entered her pupil’s room again. He was still drowned in slumber, and as on the previous evening she lifted the covers and with a swift glance examined the boy carefully: she at once noted the violent erection of his member, and smiled at this evidence of a temperament so consonant with her plans. Richard had not moved; to waken him she was obliged to shake him by the shoulder. He started up, rubbing his eyes.
“Well, Richard, what do you say?”
“Good – good morning, miss.”
“Good morning. It is seven o’clock, the time when you will get up every morning from now on. Come into the bathroom.”
He hesitated, all too aware of the distention of his genital.
“Well, I am waiting,” she said, her brows knitting.
“But – but, miss, I’m not – I mean – I mean, my – my ...”
“Your what? Come, up with you now at once.” With a swift movement she pulled the covers from his naked body, and his hands went instinctively to cover his member. “Oh, so that is what is troubling you! Really, such false modesty is absurd. Get up at once! We are not going to wait for that morning tension to go down.” And she turned away impatiently.
He
