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By LishaVei (LishaVei@aol.com)

Nicolas was conscious of the door opening.
"Yvonne, Yvonne, is that you? Have you come back to me my darling?
It was a struggle to raise himself from the pillows and painful to open his eyes.
"Sorry Monsieur Nicolas, it's only me Cecile"
The maid of all work entered the room and proceeded to draw back the heavy drapes, sunlight flooded into the room. Nicolas uttered a cry of pain, "For God's sake Cecile close them up, my eyes, my head" and he groaned in agony.
Cecile complied with his commands. She looked round at the devastation, the drawers pulled out onto the floor, the open closets, the garments strewn about, the broken vases and lamp all witnesses of Yvonne's rage as she had stormed about the room grabbing clothes and makeup and perfumes and stuffing them into a case, as she took her violent departure. Cecile's shrewd brain summed up the situation in a trice.
"She left you then Monsieur Nicolas"
Cecile was blunt and direct in her speech whilst at the same time preserving an appearance of respect. "Gone back to that fat faggot she calls a husband, Monsieur Soulangier, theatrical impresario and selfmade millionaire has she? He won't be too pleased, he'll have to throw his boyfriend out!" She gave a throaty chuckle. "She must be mad is all I can say Monsieur leaving a vigorous young man like yourself"
This compliment was no consolation to Nicolas who had grown accustomed to Yvonne, to having her (in his opinion) incomparably beautiful body available to him at all times.
"Ah Cecile, my heart is broken, I shall never find another like her."
Cecile was unmoved by this "My God you look rough" she continued "Come on Monsieur Nicolas cheer up there's plenty more like her just waiting to hop into your bed I'm sure and anyway she'll be back before long you can count on it, and if she isn't you can always have me. No point hitting the bottle you should have hit her" She laughed at this witticism. Nicolas was, or pretended to be, taken aback by all this
"Have you Cecile? Whatever do you mean?"
"You know well enough Monsieur. Have me, do me, get it up me, make love to me I think you call it, after all I've got everything necessary under this drab grey linen dress. Believe me you can do it to me anyway you want, have a good old fuck"
Nicolas looked astonished, Cecile laughed, she was a bit taken aback by her own boldness, still why not? Besides she said to herself I bet the first time young Nico dipped his wick it was with one of his mama's maids.
"Think about it Monsieur. Here, I'll make you a hair of the dog then you take a shower and I'll make coffee and tidy up in here"
"You are too kind Cecile and believe me I have need of kindness, a great need.
Oh yes, I'm sure thought Cecile, smiled to herself, left the room, went to the kitchen and put on the coffee maker and then concocted a hangover remedy out of tomato juice and bitters which she took back to Nicolas who was now sitting up fully though still moaning.
"Get this down you Monsieur, you'll soon feel right as rain."
Grimacing he complied. She picked up his robe from the end of the bed and handed it to him "Off you go now, a shower will set you up fine, you'll be ready for anything." Even a fuck with the maid she added silently. Obediently he put it on and headed for the bathroom.
Cecile busied herself with tidying up, straightening the bed and noticing the stains of lovemaking on the sheets, putting clothes back into drawers and dresses back on hangers. Some of Madame's delicate underwear she put to one side together with a pair of violet silk stockings, spraying the garments and herself with some of Madame's precious and very expensive perfume, which Yvonne had abandoned in her flight.
Nicolas returned feeling much refreshed and climbed back onto the bed and Cecile arranged the pillows behind him, he caught a whiff of Yvonne's perfume and sighed deeply.
"Now then Monsieur don't go getting depressed again just when you're feeling better, everything's going to be fine" A plan was forming in Cecile's shrewd and active brain.
"I'll get the coffee, that'll make a new man of you."
Whilst Nicolas drank the strong restorative coffee, Cecile continued her chores, and soon order was restored to the room, everything back in its place and the broken shards of vases and ornaments disposed of. Cecile noted that however hasty Madame's departure she had made sure that she took all her jewelry!
"Ah, Cecile your excellent coffee seems to have calmed my jangled nerves. But how can I restore tranquility to my mind and body Cecile? Is there any way?"
Cecile appeared to think deeply for a while then she said "Perhaps there is. I have an idea. If it fails, nothing is lost. If it succeeds, calm will be restored to you."
"Tell me!" "Will you trust me, Monsieur Nicolas?"
Nicolas who was thinking of Cecile's earlier offer of physical consolation decided to play along, he was feeling much better! "Implicitly. You have shown yourself to be a person of profound sympathy."
Cecile smiled at this "I hope I have Monsieur after all I have your best interests at heart and you are in need of comfort." Again she gave her throaty chuckle. "Now Monsieur Nicolas take off your robe and lie down, here I'll take some of those pillows away." Cecile also pulled the coverlet and sheet down to the bottom of the bed. Nicolas obeyed her instructions, removed the robe and lay there naked except for a pair of black silk shorts, (a gift from Yvonne) with just one pillow under his head. Cecile spoke again "Now Monsieur Nicolas just close your eyes and keep them closed. This is most important."
She next arranged the opening of his shorts so that it would not constrict his vital part. Then she gathered the frothy, delicate, garments she had put to one side earlier and went to the dressing table to fetch a perfume spray.
"Are your eyes closed? Now stay still and accept whatever happens."
She draped an item or two of silk and lace over his face and gave them a quick spray of expensive perfume. "Ah,' Nicolas murmured, "that fragrance! I could almost believe that she is here with me."
Cecile said nothing. She stood beside the bed observing the effect on him. Inside the shorts his limp organ was stirring that being the art of the perfumier, to arouse a man's feelings it began to protrude through the opening. She dangled a violet silk stocking by the toe so it just brushed over the head of his lengthening and thickening staff, which now stood out fully exposed. As it grew stronger yet and raised itself from his belly, she got his erection inside the stocking so that the silk clung along its whole length. She stroked the length of his shaft with her fingertips.
`Oh my God!' Nicolas whispered through the scented garments over his face.
Cecile continued pulling the stocking from his by now rigid member she trailed it slowly up over his hard belly and over his chest and nipples. Ah. . . ah. . . ah. . .' he sighed. She trailed the stocking back as slowly and delicately and he writhed and twisted on the bed. Then she wadded up the silk stocking and pushed it gently between his thighs so that he would feel the touch of it against his balls and then flicked at his jutting part with a pair of eau-de-Nil coloured knickers. Only a few moments of this were needed to render Nicolas incoherent with pleasure. She wrapped the garment loosely round his trembling part, so that more sensation would arise from the intermittent contact and so carry Nicolas further towards his goal.
That done, she stood back from the bed to remove her gray linen dress which as it buttoned all down the front was soon off followed by her other garments, a thin white cotton brassiere, soft and shapeless from wear and washing and a pair of grey rayon knickers very plain and uninspiring when compared to Madame's frilly silks. She kicked off her shoes and stood naked but for a pair of black woolen stockings held up by white garters. She was ten years older then Yvonne Soulangier, which made her thirty-four. She was not unattractive, in her way, but the nature of her work and the long hours involved meant that she had little time to herself and her pleasures had necessarily been with men of her own class and therefore lacking in finesse.
At the present time she had an 'arrangement' with a Monsieur Laurent Dugard who had a small drapers shop in the quarter where she lived. He had an invalid wife (Cecile suspected that the nature of her indisposition was an aversion to sex with Monsieur Dugard) and he visited Cecile on Sunday afternoons. This had come about through Cecile getting into debt at Dugard's store through buying clothes she could not really afford some three years previously. Dugard had encouraged her and then suggested how she could pay-off the debt. She was still paying. He would arrive about three having dined well and downed a carafe of red wine. His needs were simple and his technique rudimentary.
He expected only that she put on a plain white cotton nightdress whilst he himself put on a nightshirt. She would lie on the bed, the nightdress up to her waist with her legs drawn up and widespread holding open the lips of her quim and after some minutes of contemplating her exposed parts during which he played with his short stubby weapon to bring it to full stiffness he climbed on to the bed and onto Cecile. She would guide his blunt instrument into her vagina, first moistening the head with her saliva and he would work away, up and down and in and out, and the old bed would rock and shake and the springs would rattle and jangle, and Dugard would be squeezing and rubbing her breasts through the cloth of her nightgown, nipping the nipples between thumb and forefinger as they hardened, until with a sort of bellow he would shoot off his load, fall forward and then roll off her and fall into a noisy sleep punctuated by belches and farts.
In the early days she would then have to go to the bathroom and remove the vinegar soaked piece of sponge she had inserted into her vagina before his arrival and douche herself thoroughly, washing out his thick sperm. Then she would push a freshly soaked piece of sponge up her quim ready for the next go. Sure enough, when he woke up, Dugard would turn to her, give her a few slobbering kisses, fumble her breasts, feel up her slit and then fuck her again just as rapidly and then he would dress and depart. He would occasionally expect a variation in position and put his cock into her from behind as she knelt on all fours on the floor banging up against her buttocks forcefully as he squeezed her hanging down tits enthusiastically, stretching her nipples downwards between finger and thumb as though milking a cow.
Sometimes he rewarded her with gifts of chocolates and cheap underclothes and stockings from the shop. When he had gone and after another douche she would lie back on the bed and slowly bring herself off. Nowadays though she used a Dutch Cap, which she had obtained free, from the local clinic run by a society of middle-class dogooding ladies who were concerned about the rabbit-like breeding habits of the lower classes. The lady doctor who fitted it for her and instructed her in its use looked though as if she preferred the pleasures of her own sex, possibly with the pert little dark-haired nurse who assisted her. Good luck to them thought Cecile if they were a pair of lezzers at least they didn't have to worry about douches, sponges, vinegar or even Dutch Caps!
So it is not surprising that she envied people like Yvonne Soulangier and Nicolas Renouvin who enjoyed such freedom in regard to their amorous lives no one can say, of course, what was uppermost in her thoughts as she got on to the bed to straddle Nicolas. The opportunity to try out for herself the joys of Yvonne's lover it may have been partly that in addition to her natural desire for the money which she was sure that a grateful Nicolas would give to her if only from a certain sense of obligation to a woman of her class. She had learnt early in life that pleasure and greed are two strong motives which frequently go together. One thing was certain however; a very thrilling sensation gripped her at the thought of what she was about to do. A delicious feeling that set her sexual secretions flowing.
Because the underwear draped over his face blindfolded him, Nicolas saw nothing of her broad bared belly and its thick muff of black hair, nothing of the fleshy lips of her slit now moist with her juices, which she drew apart with her fingers. He felt the caress, as soft as a whisper, of the silk draped around his upstanding part gently pulled away, to be replaced by warm flesh, firm but yielding, that slowly took him into itself.
`Yvonne!' he exclaimed, `I adore you!'
Cecile was careful not to touch him directly with her hands in case he could distinguish between Yvonne's soft skin and her own work-hardened as it was. She balanced herself above his loins and rode gently up and down, hearing him babble on and on, as his excitement grew stronger. Men are complete idiots, she thought; give them a sniff at a pair of drawers and they take leave of their senses. What stupidity!
`Yvonne!' Nicolas moaned.
`Yes, cheri, yes,' Cecile whispered back, trying to imitate the accent and tone of a woman of Yvonne's class. She need not have given herself the trouble. Nicolas was far beyond the point at which he could distinguish between one woman's voice and another. She continued to ride him slowly and his loins rose by degrees from the bed, pushing deeper, as he hung tremulously on the brink of rapture.
As Nicolas's cock suddenly stiffened more, a sure sign that he was about to shoot his lot, Cecile was suddenly aware that she was more than mildly aroused by this lovemaking and gasping in pleasant surprise she held her pendant breasts and squeezed the stiff nipples as Nicolas went off and his quivering rod and spurting jet flicked her into a brief but exhilarating climax. She had to struggle hard to stop herself crying out with pleasure.
`Oh yes. . . oh yes. . .' Nicolas whispered, until his words changed into a long muted wail as he came off in ecstasy and shot his load into Cecile. And what a load, what a fountain, the force and extent of it quickly brought Cecile back to reality. She hoped Madame Yvonne had not taken with her the douche she kept in the bathroom. However she just couldn't jump off in midstream as it were, so still riding up and down easily with her slippery quim glowing and twitching with pleasure, she waited for his spasms of delight to fade, watching his quivering belly in surprise at how long they were lasting. Monsieur Dugard and most other men she had known were finished in about five seconds flat after their cocks began to shoot off. Nicolas however continued to shudder and gasp in ecstatic release long after he had emptied himself into her. Now that, she thought, would do wonders for a woman properly prepared in advance to share it with him. Perhaps she had discovered the secret of these bourgeois lovers perhaps it was an intensity of passion prolonged for a long time.
Only when Nicolas at last lay still did she climb with care off the bed, and hasten to the bathroom. Yes the douche was there. Thank God for that, she didn't mind doing it for money but she didn't want a bellyful of arms and legs thrown in thank you very much. She ran warm water into the hand-basin and made it as soapy as she could and filled the device with it, then sitting on the bidet she inserted the nozzle and washed herself out. She carefully washed her outer parts as well and then she dried herself on one of the thick white towels. God how lovely and soft, what it was to be rich! She replaced the douche. Tomorrow she would be fully prepared with her Dutch Cap in position! Quickly she returned to the bedroom. Nicolas still lay inert with the chemise over his face and an occasional tremor still shook his body, she noted, as, she put on her brassiere, knickers and dress. Then properly dressed again, she gently removed the chemise from his face His eyes opened slowly to take in his surroundings before focusing on the friendly face of the maid standing beside the bed.
`Oh, it's you, Cecile,' he said, smiling at her, `I had a most marvelous dream.'
`Did you, Monsieur Nicolas? What was it?'
`She was here with me and we made love. It was incredible! I feel so good ahhhso calm.'
`I'm very pleased to hear that. Do you want to sleep for a while?'
`I believe that I will. You won't go away, will you?'
"No, I have plenty of work to do around the apartment. I shall be here when you wake up. I'll draw the curtains to help you sleep."
For the rest of the afternoon Cecile busied herself with hand-washing and ironing all the expensive underwear that she could find, putting some into her bag to take home and putting the rest into the airing closet for future use. She also made a mental note to help herself to one or two of the fashionable frocks and a selection of the cosmetics abandoned by Yvonne. That stuck up cow would never miss them. Cecile was growing tired of Monsieur Dugard. This afternoon had brought her the realization that at her age she deserved something better, something satisfying to herself. Yes she certainly did and if she smartened herself up with the aid of Yvonne's wardrobe she was sure she could seduce young Monsieur Carvagel who had the room next to hers and looked at her with such longing eyes having no doubt heard through the thin walls of the apartments the discordant music of her bedsprings on Sunday afternoons as Dugard fucked merrily away!
He was a well set-up young man was Monsieur Carvagal, a floor-walker in the Galeries Lafayette but it was obvious that he was shy and made shyer by an unfortunate stammer and she knew he was lonely since the death of his mother to whom he had been devoted. Besides he was at an interesting age and with the techniques she was going to learn from Nicolas she would be able to make him make both himself and herself very happy!
She sang softly as she worked, pleased that her little ruse had proved to be a success beyond her expectations. It had calmed Nicolas down and without question that alone had earned her a considerable tip from him when he woke up. In passing, he had given her unawares a brief pleasure which she had not expected and an insight into the ways of those with more money and leisure than herself. But that apart, she was cheered by the thought that Nicolas would without doubt be generous to her and that led her to speculate on the possibility of making more money from him to add to her savings, before the lovelorn young man recovered his wits and found himself another woman a matter of a week or ten days at the most, in Cecile's estimation.
She woke Nicolas at six in the evening with a glass of tea with a thin slice of lemon in it. While he was sipping at it gratefully she got a basin of warm soapy water, a wash-cloth and a towel and devoted her attention to his exposed cock, now soft and small and looking so harmless, washing away the dried sperm and quim juice that matted his pubic hair, gently drawing back his foreskin to wash the purple head and drying it tenderly almost. She did all this in the most matterof-fact way and he accepted it without demur as though he were a child again and she was his nanny.
"Has your sleep refreshed you?" she asked.
"Yes, I am eternally in your debt, Cecile. When you found me here, I wanted to die. Now I am ready to live again. I can never repay you for your kindness."
"As to that, Monsieur Nicolas..."
"Of course! If you will be so good as to pass my jacket to me. . . there, I know that mere money can never repay the devotion you have shown me today in my hour of need, but I hope that you will accept this as a small token of my gratitude."
"You are too kind," Cecile said politely, tucking the bank notes quickly down her dress front into her brassiere. "If only I could do more to help you through this time of anguish." `Perhaps there is a way to help me,' he said slowly "Though I hesitate to impose my misery on you. You have only to mention it Monsieur you don't have to be shy with me!" "Because of you I enjoyed a dream of such exquisite pleasure that I shall never forget it. I would like to dream that dream again, if you could bring yourself to assist me."
Between them it was arranged that Cecile should return to the apartment on the next day at three. She made ready to leave.
"Oh Monsieur Nicolas can I get you anything to eat after all you must keep up your strength"
"It's all right Cecile I will telephone the bistro on the corner and have them send something up."
When she arrived, fully prepared, next day she left her hat and coat in the entrance hall and went to the bedroom, where the door stood slightly open. Inside, the curtains were drawn to dim the room and Nicolas was in bed, his eyes closed as if he were asleep.
"Yvonne it's you at last," he whispered, not stirring.
Without a word, Cecile took from her capacious handbag a violet coloured satin chemise and spread it gently over his face. She had already sprayed it with Madame's perfume and the familiar fragrance caused Nicolas to sigh loudly.
"You are so adorable, Yvonne! To be with you is happiness beyond imagining."
Cecile had brought the spray with her. She squirted a cloud of fragrance on to the silk to intensify its effect. "Cherie!" Nicolas moaned.
She drew the coverlet and sheet away from him and down to the foot of the bed. He was naked with his stretched legs spread wide and his cock was at full stretch.
"See how impatiently I have been waiting for you," he murmured.
Cecile delved into her bag for a pair of silk stockings and trailed them slowly the length of his body, from throat to thighs, then upwards along his strong shaft from base to tip. This caress, many times repeated, brought about a trembling in his limbs and made his upstanding part twitch.
"It is so thrilling when you tease me," he whispered, "you will drive me mad with pleasure. Don't stop!"
Cecile still fully dressed, kicked off her shoes, climbed on to the bed and knelt between his spread legs. She continued the treatment until she judged the moment right Nicolas was squirming in delight and muttering little endearments. She wound the stocking around the end of his eager shaft that throbbed so urgently, so that it covered his foreskin and holding the stocking top in one hand and the foot in the other pulled it out to its full length with his cock held firmly upright by it. Tightening her grip on the free ends she gently moved the stocking up and down causing the necessary friction over the head of his cock. She tossed him off at armslength as it were.
The result was dramatic. Nicolas convulsed as if an electric wire had touched him and jetted a fountain of cum into the air most of which rained down on to the front of Cecile's dress as he climaxed, shuddering with pleasure. But, Cecile observed, the duration of his passion was much shorter than the day before. Evidently he required something more to bring him to full release.
His words confirmed her deduction.
"Ah, cherie," he said, `No one has ever aroused me as you do. I dream incessantly of your beautiful body."
Cecile got off the bed and as before, stripped off quickly and then took up her position, kneeling above his loins. His firmness had only partially relaxed and moistening two fingers with saliva she rubbed them gently over his nipples, which quickly brought his cock to full erection, and she guided up and into her eager vagina. The slippery warmth of that contact brought back Nicolas's vigor in full measure.
It was in Cecile's mind that on this occasion she might benefit equally with Nicolas from the union of bodies. She therefore slid up and down very slowly so as to give herself time to respond physically to the feel of what was inserted in her. Nicolas trembled and sighed as she worked away steadily his satisfaction was assured and she could take thought for her own.
She had been told that the positions of love number 128 and she had seen illustrations in a book of engravings here in Nicolas's apartment that demonstrated the possibilities that existed when a man and a woman had the time and inclination to experiment with such diversions. Nevertheless, the only ones Cecile had experienced herself were three in number flat on her back, on all fours, or standing against a wall, according to circumstances at the time. To find herself sitting above a man who was lying on his back was unfamiliar, of course. Yesterday she had not really appreciated it but she could get to like it very much she now thought! She experienced a strange sensation not of doing it to him instead of him doing it to her, which she would have expected but almost of doing it to herself! That was of no importance, however, for she was pleasing him and at the same time she was giving herself pleasure.
When the spasms in Nicolas's body warned her of the imminent arrival a second spate of passion, she thought that it was too soon for her. This momentary disappointment proved to be false. He raised his hips from the bed as he went off and this last extreme penetration by his jerking shaft, to the core of her being it seemed, brought her to a turbulent climax. She heard herself squeal in gratification as her eyes bulged and her nipples throbbed and her somewhat flabby belly quivered and jumped. So that's what Yvonne and her like enjoyed two or three times a day, she thought when the exquisite sensations died away. Monsieur Nicolas rewarded her generously again adding on the cost of her dress which had, as Cecile pointed out, been ruined by his cum.
This somewhat bizarre liaison between Nicolas and Cecile continued for only three more days. The routine was not changed. He was there naked and in bed by the time she arrived. She covered his closed eyes with perfumed lingerie and teased him with silk stockings on his skin until he discharged for the first time, then prepared herself and mounted him to give him and herself a great felicity. After that she became the attentive servant again, properly dressed and polite as she washed and dried his satisfied part. And each time, before she departed, Nicolas made her a handsome present of money.
On what proved to be their final meeting matters proceeded differently. The customary sigh of pleasure was absent when she covered his face with a pair of lilac silk camiknickers and sprayed on the perfume. He said nothing and did nothing. There was a tiny frown on Cecile's face as she drew down the bed covers to expose his naked body. He was aroused, that was a good point, she thought. Yet he seemed to be ill at ease. No longer was he allowing himself to be enchanted by the illusion of Yvonne's presence.