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Chapter 75 - 75

A day or two recruited me, I wrote to Camille who met me in the street,

she had sent the girl to the theatre with a friend, so I went indoors

with her. "Have you done it to her?" was the first question, as if she

did not know, I told her all. She questioned me with strong interest. I

gave her the fifty pounds. Then she asked me if Louise had told me where

she came from, and other questions, which I saw were put to see, if

Louise had told about their relationship. As we talked I looked at her,

comparing her with Louise, and saw the likeness stronger than ever. "Why

stare so?" she asked. When she had heard of all our bum frolics she gave

a sigh and said, "Well, if I had not brought her to London, she would

have gone to Paris with A------ (mentioning some French name), and have

had it done to her there,--so it comes to the same thing."

 

Then suddenly, "Are you never going to have me again?" "No," I had

promised Louise. She looked amorously fascinating. "She won't know it, I

have never had it since I left." She was half reclining on the sofa, by

intention or chance her legs raised up on the sofa, one flat, the other

foot on its heel, exposing the recumbent limbs from foot to knee. "Do

now," said she. "No," but I moved from the chair to the end of the sofa,

and began stroking her leg with my hand.

 

She lifted the clothes just above the knee. I saw the large thigh

nearly up to her quim, my hand involuntarily slipped higher, and began

smoothing the flesh just above the garter. "Do it now," said she falling

right on to her back.

 

I thought of Louise, of my promise; I knew the look of both their

cunts,--of Camille's the best,--desired to see, to compare it. I had

been feeling Louise's cunt eight days, now thought I should like to feel

Camille's to feel the difference, I knew her cunt was looser, and more

hairy, her bum and thighs bigger, yet was I right in my comparison? my

cock got uneasy, I helped it to rise in my trowsers by giving it a push

outside.

 

"I won't have her," I thought, "but there is no harm in feeling," and

began playing with the hair of her motte. "Your hair is longer than

Louise's." She laughed, "Do it, baisez-moi," said she.

 

My fingers touched the slippery cunt, it was irresistible, the next

instant they were groping and feeling. "Your bum is bigger than

Louise's," I said. She laughed again.

 

Sitting where I was, and playing at stink-finger, my position was

inconvenient. "Come up closer," said she. Then I sat by her hips, on

the sofa-edge, she lifted her clothes right up: there was the quim, the

jet-black bush, the fine round thighs, my cock was restive, my hands

wandering, she unbuttoned my trowsers, gave my prick a squeeze, sending

up the blood and completed my randiness.

 

"Louise won't know, you shall kiss me," and she raised herself to throw

her arm over my shoulder. Like a young virgin who says, "no, no," whilst

she yields, I kept repeating "no, no". The thighs had opened, I was

pulling open the lips and trying to see the red inside; and still saying

"no," slid on to her, on to it, up it, and spent before I well knew what

I was about. "Oh! you are so quick," said she, "you have spoiled me, I

was just coming."

 

She did not mean to be spoiled, trying her most baudy endearments, she

held me tight, caressed me, as a French woman knows how,--better than

any other. Forgetting Louise, my mind fell into its baudy dreams, I

fucked her again, and then she let me get up.

 

And then to business. "What are you going to do for the girl?" she

asked. "Nothing, I have given her money and things worth about a hundred

pounds, and have paid you, when I have her again I shall give her

money." "You promised to do something more, if not what will become

of her?" I did then recollect, that she had made me promise, but had

attached no definite ideas to it.

 

"I relied on you, or would never have brought her; are you going to keep

her, or let her be gay like me?"

 

I did not like either; to keep her I had no intention, did not even like

the girl, though I liked plugging her. Said Camille, "We have had a row

already, she won't work, and says she will wear the clothes she has got,

although I have only seen a few of them." "What do you expect?" I

asked. "Set her up in business, selling gloves or perfumes, a small shop

somewhere."

 

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