The Gentlemen's Club: Volume One in the 'Noire' series (7 page)

On entering, he noticed first
a huge bath, above the rim of which three graceful necks were visible, crowned
by pinned locks: one dark, one palest blonde and one richly red. To the rear of
the room was a large bed, cloaked in drapes.

Mademoiselle Noire turned on
hearing his step, her face flushed rosily from the steam. She appeared younger
than he had seen her thus far, her face stripped of any embellishment at the
lip or cheek. Moreover, she was without her
mask,
so
that Lord
MacCaulay
was at last able to fully meet
her eye. She held his gaze for some moments, her head tilted to one side, chin
slightly raised, taking stock of him.

She was the first to speak
and caught him off guard by addressing him by name.

“Lord
MacCaulay
,
you remember Daisy and
Hetty
I think?”

The girls turned their heads
at their names, looking at him over their shoulders, as demure as he remembered
them, but with something worldly about their eyes. They were also without any
mask of concealment, so that he was able to gaze openly upon their young faces.

“Our bath is still very
warm,” Mademoiselle Noire called to him, her voice all velvet. “It would be a
shame for you to miss the opportunity to join us, would it not?”

His eyes fastened upon hers,
desiring so very much to be near her.
MacCaulay
removed all items of his evening dress, placing them neatly upon a chair. He
took pains to ensure that his actions were without undue haste, and then slid
into the comfortable embrace of the water, placing himself at one end, so that
the three women faced him at the other, all but their shoulders hidden.

“So, you discovered my name,”
he said at last, his eyes searching hers, keen to detect any nuance of feeling.
“You know that anonymity is one of the Club’s watchwords.”

“I thought it only proper,”
she reproached playfully. “A lady requires a formal introduction in polite
society and this is not, after all, our first time of meeting.”

Her tone, as ever, was
mocking. Her self-possession was without question, but her finer emotions
remained a mystery to him.

“As you can see, I too have
laid myself bare before you. If you were to pass me on the street, you would
know me at once. My own anonymity is now also compromised.”
 

She added, after a momentary
pause, “As is that of dear
Hetty
and Daisy. However,
I believe our secrets are safe with you Lord
MacCaulay
.”

“They are,” he replied. ”Although
the secret of your true name is yet to be disclosed, so your advantage over me
continues.”

At this, she laughed in
genuine merriment. “Of course it does Lord
MacCaulay
and the revelation of my name would perhaps hardly change that, since I appear
to control the outcome of all our encounters.”

Her face assumed a more
serious expression now. “I invited you here being desirous of better
acquaintance,” she admitted. “Since the time of my arrival, you have not once
followed the other gentlemen into the hall of games, to sport gaily with the
majestic ladies of this establishment. Had you done so, I would have been able
to observe you at play, seeing the cut of your cloth Lord
MacCaulay
.
I know but little of your tastes in truth. Perhaps you have none, being content
to follow the whims of others?”

He began to remonstrate but
she moved at once closer, placing a single finger upon his lips. Her proximity
served to quiet him at once. He felt the smooth skin of her leg brush his below
the surface of the water and her hand rest lightly upon his thigh. Droplets
glistened at her throat and at the inviting parting of her cleavage, but her
body remained concealed, the suds of the bath preventing him from casting his
eyes over the rest of her form. Of course, he had beheld her nakedness in the
salon but hours ago; however, the theatricality of the performance rendered
those images as if from a dream. At this moment, she was real, close enough
that he might feel her breath upon his cheek.

Her finger lingered, and he
took pleasure in drinking deeply of her eyes. He saw now that they were most
certainly green, flecked through with the same gold as was found in her auburn
hair. To his satisfaction, she allowed him to search her face in this manner,
with softness new to his experience of her.

Her features were exquisite:
not childishly rounded like those of
Hetty
and Daisy,
who now watched he and she with interest, but noble in comportment. Her nose
was slender, her forehead high, her lips sensual in their fullness, rather than
doll-like. Her bearing was imperial. He believed it would never occur to her to
consider herself inferior to another being, much less any man. In others it
might have irritated him, as pure arrogance; in her, it inspired only his
admiration.

Eventually, it was she who
broke the spell.

Eyebrow raised, she joked,
”My dearest Lord
MacCaulay
, I might begin to wonder
if you attempt to woo me, so intense is your gaze. Of course, that would not do
at all, and is assuredly not my desire or intent. I only wish to conduct a more
thorough assessment of you, and to that end, Miss Daisy and Miss
Hetty
have kindly consented to help me.”

MacCaulay
felt the retort but allowed her to reprimand him. For
the moment, he was content to be near her. Whatever game she had in mind, he
would do his best not to disappoint.
 

Hetty
and Daisy began now to lather their soap and commenced
their washing of one another: first stroking the foam over their shoulders,
then
squeezing water from their sponges. Their heads, one
dark and one fair, they held close, glancing at
MacCaulay
at they worked, alternately lowering their lashes in modesty, then daringly
meeting his eye, as if to say: ‘Be good enough to look upon us and say what you
think of us now my Lord.’ To his knowledge, both were relatively
unsophisticated in their knowledge of men, although he doubted not that a week
or two in the playrooms of this establishment would have opened their minds
considerably. At any rate, the experience seemed indubitably to have agreed
with them, since their complexions were rosy and their eyes glittered most
mirthfully. They had learnt quickly how to tease and flirt, with impish whimsicality.
Yet, they retained some degree of naïve ingenuousness.

Giggling now, they sat up
higher in the water, so that their breasts were revealed:
Hetty’s
modest in size, with their girlish rosebuds; Daisy’s smaller, but delightfully
pert, with dark nipples placed high on the crown. The pair began to finger the
peaks of each other’s breasts, casting their eyes at
MacCaulay
,
seeking interest in his expression, eager to stir him. Daisy then lowered her
head, to lock herself about the coral fuchsia of
Hetty’s
pale orb. There she sucked, her girlish mouth daintily nibbling.
Hetty
twined her arms about her companion’s neck and
shoulders, encouraging her in her task.

The pair then rose fully onto
their knees, so that the peaches of their buttocks came into view and the down
of their pubic triangles: one dark
;
one golden. Daisy
raised her mouth to that of
Hetty
and the two kissed
lightly, as if still testing how this might be done.

MacCaulay
had been watching the pair with natural interest,
since their antics were such as would rouse any man, but his thoughts remained
with Mademoiselle Noire, and his knowledge of the closeness of her body, naked
and alluring, within arm’s reach.

Hetty
then turned her back, so that Daisy might soap its
length, and stroke the graceful arch of her spine. Daisy moved her sponge over her
friend’s generous buttock, rubbing suds into the under-crease, and kneading the
slippery skin. The sight of the girl’s fingers fondling, squeezing and stroking
brought a small leap to
MacCaulay’s
cock.

Mademoiselle Noire must have
detected a change in his face, for she looked at him pointedly and drew close
to his ear, so that he felt her breast brush his arm.

Her voice was no more than a
whisper, her breath catching at the hairs of his neck. “What should Daisy do
next?” she asked.

He licked his lips and turned
to look at Mademoiselle. Her movement towards him had lifted her breasts almost
clear of the water, so that he was tantalized; damp and full, the nipples
upward curving, how he longed to cup them, and lower his own lips to their
perfection.

However, he sensed that she
wished him to wait, that her interest lay in his interaction with the girls
before them.

Thus, he replied that
Hetty’s
cunny must
be
deserving of
attention.

Daisy moved her hand into the
cleft of the other girl’s buttocks, to which young
Hetty
facilitated her access by bending towards the side of the tub, parting her
thighs slightly, so that her friend’s fingers might probe as they dared.
Hetty’s
labia were already plump, showing her excitement.
Daisy squeezed her sponge over their golden down, to remove the suds of the
bath.

Daisy enquired, ”Like this
sir?”

She gently inserted her two
middle fingers into her friend’s ready cunt, seeking the special
spots which
turn women weak.
Hetty’s
buttocks clenched a little and she rotated her cunny against the instruments
pleasuring her.

As he watched this pretty
scene,
MacCaulay
remained aware of Mademoiselle still
so near, and then felt her hand move between his legs, seeking out his member.
She encircled the base of its trunk,
then
reached to cup
his testicles. She was pressed close now, her breasts against his arm,
one
hand resting lightly upon his lower back. Her chin was
at his shoulder, her lips almost touching his throat.

Her fingers reached down further,
stroking his most delicate of parts, between his anus and his testicles. The
sensation was delicious, and he parted his legs so that she might cradle him
more easily. Of a sudden, he became aware that her touch might bring upon him an
untimely release, but she moved her hand upwards again, this time taking the
end of his shaft. Her stroke twisted his foreskin on each upward caress and her
hand moved in synchronization with that of Daisy, who had been all the while
pleasuring her friend, as
MacCaulay
had instructed.

Hetty
reached her crescendo,
gasping
as the flames grew tall within her. Mademoiselle Noire touched her lips against
MacCaulay’s
neck and then, with unexpected ferocity,
scraped her teeth against his skin, biting passionately. He could contain
himself no more, bursting forth, overwhelmed by the sensation of her hot breath
and the urgency of her gnawing upon him. She wrapped her hand firmly about his
penis as the pulses came, spending his semen into the warm waters of the bath.

When his orgasm had subsided,
she shifted her position, to straddle his right thigh. He felt the tickle of
her pubic hair against his leg, and the slight pressure as she pushed her cunny
against him. She left her hand upon his member. Her eyes were liquid now, soft
and deep. He felt safe, comforted, loved. Her embrace was everything to him.

She motioned to the girls to
continue their play. Daisy now presented herself to
Hetty
,
sitting upon the side of the bath and opening her legs, so that she might
receive her turn at pleasure. Her friend soaped those open thighs, and sponged
them, moving ever upwards, until at the threshold of Daisy’s garden, to which
she bent her head.
Hetty’s
tongue worked daintily,
licking Daisy’s nub, so that it was all the poor girl could do to sit still.
She grasped the rim of the tub and lifted her cheeks, urging her friend to send
her tongue deeper, to offer her more.

Mademoiselle wriggled her own
delta of pleasure against
MacCaulay’s
leg, and
stroked his growing organ with her expert touch. Each caress was like that of
an angel, sending his heart soaring. Soon, his balls were aching for release
once more.

Hetty
had grasped Daisy’s buttocks now, raising them
towards her, so that she could bury her mouth against her friend’s cunny,
penetrating devotedly with her tongue and lapping against the juices. As Daisy
tumbled over the brink, giving great voice to her delight, Mademoiselle moved
her leg about
MacCaulay
so that she straddled him
fully. Her secret place pounded for him as much as his for her, so that she
slid upon his truncheon with all ease.