The Altar of Venus

Chapter VIII

The following day when I returned from the store I found that Vernon had prepared supper, something which was generally left for me to do and I guessed the significance of this unusual attention. But my plans were complete, and I was ready to go ahead with them.

"Seen Mr. Tucker to-day, Vernon?"

He nodded his head affirmatively, without looking at me.

"Everything fixed for to-night?"

"Why … ah … I guess George will be in, after dinner."

"All right, Vernon, dearest. As soon as we finish dinner you can go. out and get some wine.. Get plenty. And while you're gone I'll bathe and put on my prettiest things."

"You don't need to dress up especially for Geoi-ge." he said, with a shade of resentment in his voice at my cheerfulness.

"You want me to look nice, don't you?" I asked.

"Yes …" he answered eyeing me doubtfully, "But he's getting enough as it is, without extra trimmings!"

'Well, you get the wine, and leave the rest to me."

It was evident that my husband unexpected enthusiasm had somewhat dampened his spirits. He had supposed that my submission to this man would be in the nature of a sacrifice to necessity, an in his egotism had taken it for granted that to me it would be only a disagreeable incident. Rejoicing inwardly at his discomfiture, I looked forward with bitter pleasure to what was yet in store for him.

When he had gone I hurriedly packed a suite-case with my belongings, leaving out only such articles of apparel and toilet as would be needed that night, and pushed the suitcase out of sigh under the bed. Then, I bathed, and dressed myself in the prettiest garments of my modest wardrobe. I arranged my hair, powdered my face, and touched up my lips. My whole being seemed to have undergone a complete physical and mental evolution, and as I gazed into the face which looked back at me from the mirror, I was amazed at the transformation. I felt as though a heavy and long sustained load Jiad suddenly been lifted from my shoulders and with its going the depressions, disappointments, deceptions of the past year had gone, too. I felt as a prisoner must feel upon release, after weary months of confinement. A wave of exhilaration passed over me.

Vernon returned, placed the liquor in the kitchen and stood watching me moodily. The daintiness and coquetry of my dress was plainly irritating to him. Though I was acceeding to his own suggestion to prostitute myself for his benefit, it hurt his vanity to see me making what appeared to be an excessively elaborate preparation for the event.

"I'm half a mind to tell that guy there's nothing doing." he growled, finally.

"Oh, that would be foolish now, Vernon. You've already promised him and besides, you've got to have somebody help you get a start."

The sarcasm passed over his head, and he agreed:

"Yes, I guess you're right, Eedy."

Mr. Tucker appeared promptly at nine o'clock, and even had my husband not confessed it, I would have guessed, from the expectant look on the man's face that he had some reason to anticipate a change in my attitude toward him. His eyes fairly devoured me as they traveled up over my legs, skirt, breasts and face.

"Sit down, George, and make yourself comfortable!" I exclaimed merrily.

"How's the little girl to-night?" he asked, as I took his hat.

"Oh, fine George! Just in the right humor for a good time!"

The first step in carrying out the program I had formulated was to see that Mr. Tucker was provided with a generous, and continuous supply of liquor. Calling to Vernon to bring in some wine, I seated myself in a chair directly in front of the man, and immodestly crossed my legs in such a way that my rather short skirt was drawn up over my kness. I knew that some bit of naked leg above my hose must be visible to him, and as I had expected his glance immediately flashed downward and he stared as though mesmerized by the sight.

Joking, laughing hilariously at the slightest pretext, I sipped my own wine. Frequently I refilled my glass but always it was empty, thus I was not in reality consuming any great quantity and the artifice passed unobserved by Mr. Tucker, whose thoughts were evidently more occupied with my legs than with what I was drinking.

Vernon, sitting across the room from us, looked on in silence, his face reflecting surprise at my unusual conviviality. I perceived that he also was glancing surreptitiously at my legs and knew that the careless posture had attracted his attention as well as Mr. Tucker's. The difference was that while Mr. Tucker was enjoying the sight, he was not.

I tilted my chair backward-Against the wall, a movement which further contributed to the elevation of my skirts. Mr. Tucker was probably able to see half up my thigh. The effect upon him was instantaneous. He hastily poured himself a glass of wine, and beneath the cloth of his trouser leg an elongated swelling began to make itself apparent.

Vernon arose from his chair, came toward me, placed his hand on my shoulder and pinching it significally, said:

"Eedy, you're drinking an awful lot. Better not take any more!"

"Let the little girl enjoy herself, Vernie! The wine isn't going to hurt her!" interposed Mr. Tucker, a shade resentfully.

My plan was unfolded with admirable precision. I had counted on my husband's inherent egotism being awakened by my actions toward Mr. Tucker, and I knew that in such a state of mind he would not be very likely to enter into the festive spirit of the occasion, and would in his sullenness refrain from drinking. I wanted to keep a clear head in order to appreciate to the fullest his situation. On the other hand I intended to excite Mr. Tucker and encourage-him to drink until he lost all control of himself,

and under these conditions surrender my body to him in my husband's presence. I knew that to accomplish this I would have to inflame the man to the point of beastliness. Unless I could do this, he would naturally expect to consumate the act in privacy.

He was now almost drunk while Vernon had taken but a single glass, and I, by means of deft manipulation of bottles and glasses had avoided drinking much more, though I pretended to be half tipsy.

"Come on, old dear," I called to Vernon, "put a record on the gramaphone; Georgie and I want to dance!"

With reluctance, still eyeing me reproachfully, he obeyed. Seizing Mr. Tucker by the arm I pulled him from his chair. He was unsteady on his feet, but our gyrations served the purpose of enabling me to rub my leg against the place Where something hard and stiff under the cloth of his trousers was throbbing and pushing.

We sat down, flushed and panting, and I poured him another drink.

"Vernon, you don't care if I sit on Georgie's lap, do you?" I pleaded coaxingly." He's a good old scout and I have to love him a little bit too, you know!"

"Go ahead, if you want to!" he responded gruffly. There was an angry glint in his eye

and I felt a thrill of satisfaction. His punishment had begun,

I seated myself on Mr. Tucker's knee, and placed an arm around his neck.

"Vernon, you don't care if I give Georgie a Jteeny kiss, do you?"

His eyes shot fire.

"Give him a dozen, if you want to!"

I pressed my mouth to Mr. Tucker's, and inserted my tongue between his lips. I felt his body tense, and knew that every carnal instinct in the man was aroused. I touched my tongue to his, moaned, sighed, shivered, and took on as though I was in a state of passionate excitation. He placed a hand greedily over one of my breasts and I felt the fingers of the other squeezing and pinching the flesh of my thigh.

But he was not drunk enough for my purpose. I slipped from his lap, and shaking my finger in his face exclaimed with mock severity:

"Bad man. Putting his hand on Eedy's titty! Mustn't do that. Makes her have naughty feelings!"

I served another drink to * Mr. Tucker. His gaze never left me as he drained it, and in his eyes I read the thoughts which filled his intoxicated brain, and knew that in imagination he was already contemplating my naked body, and mentally possessing me.

Again I sat on his knee and as if by accident permitted my hand to brush against the bulky swelling under his trouser leg.

"George! What have you got in your pocket? Why, it feels as though it was alive!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" roared Mr. Tucker, "She wants to know what I've got in my pocket, Vernie!"

My husband vouschafed no comment, but looked on in frozen silence, then suddenly arose, and walked into the dining room. It was not my intention to permit him to escape a single detail, and so, on the pretext of getting more liquor, I followed him.

"Say!" he whispered savagely, seizing me by the arm, "I've changed my mind! To hell with George! Ljet's get him out oT here, before he gets any drunker!"

"Why, Vernon!" I replied tipsily, "Georgie's an old dear! He's the best friend we've got. I'm going to loosen up with him. Where the hell are we going to get a lot of damn prudishness?"

He tried to hold me, but I slipped from his grasp and flitted back to Mr. Tucker. Raising my dress above my knees, I essayed a half drunken dance.

."Vernon says," I declaimed solemnly, "that you're the best old scout of a friend he ever had. He says: Treat Georgie nice!"

"Sure, Vernie's my friend !" agreed Mr. Tucker thickly.

My husband returned and resumed his seat near the door.

The moment in which Mr. Tucker would be in a condition suitable to my purpose was not far off. He was now almost drunk enough to be indifferent to my husband's presence, and my familiarities with him, the exposure of my limbs, which I continually found opportunities to provide, had fired his passions almost to the limit of his endurance.

I placed another record on the gramaphone and as the disk began to revolve I piroutted about the room elevating my dress high enough to expose the bare flesh of my legs above my stockings. Mr. Tucker applauded wildly urging me on. Faster and faster I whirled until my skirt billowed outward and the short, lace edged panties I had on, were visible. I had dressed myself with just such possibilities in mind, and the panties one of my few remaining piece of finery, were of French manufacture, made of the sheerest of rose tinted silk, very short of leg, edged with narrow bands of black lace, and semi-transparent.

Mr. Tucker continued to express appreciation loudly. Stopping suddenly in front of him, I exclaimed:

"My skirt's too tight to dance in. If it wasn't for that, I'd show you some real dancing!"

"Take it off!" roared Mr. Tucker, raising instantly to the bait.

"Oooooh! That would be naughty!" I answered opening my eyes widely in shocked disapproval.

"Take it off!" cried Mr. Tucker again, his face fairly glowing with anticipation. Putting his hand in his pocket, he withdrew a five pound nQte and laid it on the table. "Take it off, and the money's yours!"

"Oooooh!" I repeated, 'Let you see me in my panties? Why, that's as bad almost as being naked!"

"Be a sport, Eedy!" begged Mr. Tucker, almost beside himself, and a second note was laid beside the first one.

"Well …" I said, doubtfully, "It's awfully naughty, but if you'll promise never, never to tell anyone … ?"

"Of course we won't tell!" shouted Mr. Tucker.

I took the money from the table and brazenly slipped it inside my stocking. I was going to need that money shortly, and felt that I was well entitled to it. Vernon arose from his chair, stepped into the dining room and signaled furiously to me to follow him. I pretended not to

see 4iis motions, and he remained standing in the door.

With simulated bashfulness, and encouraged on by the ecstatic Mr. Tucker, I unhooked my dress and drew it off.

He clapped his hands and shouted his appreciation drunkenly, vowing that I was the "cutest little girl" he had ever laid eyes on. With my hands on my hips, I began to weave about, as I had seen girls do in some of the vulgar shows Mr. Tucker had taken us to. My husband stood as though turned to stone till I came near him in one of my evolutions and then he whispered hoarsely:

"Eedy, you're drunk! You're making a spectacle of yourself! Put on your clothes! I'll get George away without hurting his feelings."

Heedless of his admonitions, I continued my writhings and undulations frenziedly applauded by Mr. Tucker, until breathless, I sat down on his accommodating knee. I handed him a glass of liquor which he took with trembling fingers and drained at a single gulp. He appeared to be completely oblivious to my husband's presence and probably nothing was lacking now to bring the drama to its conclusion but to permit him to follow his own drunken inclinations. He set the glass back on the table and I relaxed loosely in his arms, my hair against his cheek.

His arms tightened around me and I felt one of his hands slipping up under the brassiere which covered my breasts. It closed over one of them, and I slipped reprovingly:

"Bad, bad man! Feeling Eedy titties again and making her want to do something naughty!"

His other hand was working convulsively with the flesh of my bare thigh. Emboldened by the words, he slipped it inside my panties and for and for the first time in my life I felt the hand of a man, other than my husband, touching my sexual parts.

"Aaaah!" I breathed, shivering involuntarily.

Vernon was still leaning rigidly against the door. His face was the color of a brick and he looked as though he was suffocating.

Revenge! Revenge for my ruined girlhood, the blasting of my illusions, the months of privation!

I squeezed closer to Mr. Tucker, wriggled and squirmed as though his coarse fingering was causing me the most exquisite pleasure. Sacrificing the last instinct of modesty, subordinating the instinctive repulsion I felt for the man, I placed my hand over the bulky swelling in the front of his trousers. It responded to my touch with powerful throbs. However, limited Mr. Tucker's cultural and educational qualifications he was certainly not lacking in physical vigor. Drunk as he was, he was entirely alive and responsive sexually. Accommodating myself upon his lap in such a position that every movement was visible to my husband, I unbuttoned his pants, put my hand inside and took his thing out. Almost involuntarily I uttered an exclamation of surprise when I saw its dimensions. Nature had endowed him generously indeed, it was fully twice the size of my husband's and as I had never seen any other man's but his in its erected state, I was more than startled. Despite the aversion I felt toward the man, the sight and feel of it, as it jumped and throbbed in my fingers, inspired me with a strange feeling of . . . oh, I don't know how to express it … a tingling, trembly sensation that went all through me.

I recovered quickly from my momentary confusion and then, in plain sight of my stupified husband, whose eyes were fixed glaringly upon me, I began to fondle and toy with it. I pulled the white foreskin down until the big, cherry shaped head stuck out nakedly. I tickled it with my finger-tips, squeezed it and played with it until some big drops of limpid moisture appeared and rolled down the side. And at the same time I shivered and moaned and pressed my thighs together as if I wanted to do something so bad I could hardly wait.

Mr. Tucker had succeeded in unfastening my brassiere, and had uncovered my breasts. He put his mouth on one of them and while he sucked at the nipple he squeezed and massaged the other one with his hand. And at the same time his other hand was engaged in a rough manipulation of my sexual parts. He even stuck his finger up inside as far as it would go, and while I writhed and twisted on his lap he worked it in and out. I stole a surreptitious glance at my husband. He was still standing motionless, frozen.

What were his thoughts as he stood there watching another man fingering his wife's genitals while she, in an apparently half drunken but ardent frenzy, caressed and manipulated his sexual organs?

Only he could have told.

Trembling with anticipation I prepared for the final culminating gesture.

Gripping Mr. Tucker's thing firmly, I began to jiggle it violently, and exclaimed with passionate abandon:

"Oh, George! I can't wait a second longer! Quick! Fuck me!"

Jumping from his knees, I tore off my panties, and without so much as a glance toward my petrified husband, I threw myself on the floor in front of Mr. Tucker and opened my legs widely.

"Sure, I'll fuck you, girlie!" he answered thickly and without even waiting to remove his trousers, he stumbled toward me and fell upon his knees between my outstretched legs. I felt his thing punching clumsily against me and I took the thumping jerking thing in my hand and put the head in the right place. I feared that because of its size it was going to hurt me dreadfully and steeled myself for the ordeal. But Nature appears to have provided for such eventualities, imparting to the female a pecular elasticity and almost before I realized it the whole thing was insde.

I sensed an extreme tightness, my flesh was expanded to the limit of its elastical capacity, but there was no pain. And the next instant, I felt it. working back and forth.

Nothing now remained, except to stage an exhibition, such as would leave no doubt in my husband's mind that I was enjoying sexual pleasure with this man greater than any I had ever experienced with him. Toward this end, I kicked up my legs, moaned, sighed, shivered, wriggled, and undulated my hips with simulated ardor, keeping up the meanwhile a series of excited exhortations and exclamations such as: "Oh, it's good! . . . Push harder, Georgie! . . . Oh, stick it clear in! . . . like that! . . . Oh, how delicious! . . . Further in! . . . Clear in! . . . Harder! . . . Harder! …"

My cries and exclamations excited the man to an insane frenzy, and soon his distended eyes and gasping breath told me that the end was not far off. Abruptly, he slipped his hands under my bottom, and raising me from the floor, almost tranfixed me with the last, fulminating thrusts of his rigid weapon.

A hot, wet stream suddenly flooded my in-sides. It was ejected with such force that I felt each distinct spurt as it stuck my womb. Some of the burning stuff escaped, and ran down between my thighs.

I hadn't intended to-I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. I came, too. Involuntarily, I threw my legs up and clamped them around his body in a vise-like grip. And the last exclamations I uttered were genuine instead of faked.

When it was finished, he sank down upon me almost crushing me with his heavy body.

I twisted out from underneath him and called to Vernon to bring me a towel. He made no move to obey and I repeated the command imperiously. It was a final, artistic touch! He hesitated a moment in dazed uncertainty, then turned and left the room. He came back with a towel in his hand and flung it on the floor

near me. Deliberately, before his eyes I wiped from between my legs the exterior tracs of his friends orgastic prowness, and tossed the towel back to him. He hurled it aside, and with a venomous glance at Mr. Tucker who now in a drunken stupor, snarled:

"You damned little whore!"

I got up, and went into the bathroom where I had already prepared, and had waiting, a sanitary preparation.

When I came out, Mr. Tucker was still lying on the floor, where he had fallen. He was unconscious. His pants were open, and his thing, although wierdly diminished in size, was still wet and dripping.

Without a word and without further pretense of intoxication, I put on my panties, adjusted my brassiere and replaced the waist and dress I had removed. Going to the bedroom, I quickly gathered up such articles of toilet as remained unpacked and swept them into a small grip. I put on my hat and coat, and with grip and suitcase, left the room.

When Vernon saw me fully dressed, and with hand luggage, his mouth fell open. For a moment he was speechless. Then he stammered:

"Why . . . where are you going, Eedy?"

"I'm leaving you, Vernon, but you'll still have your friend Mr. Tucker to look out for you."

"But, Eedy … I don't …"

Before he had concluded the sentence the door was closed behind me and I had walked out of his life forever.

I've never seen him since and that's all there is to tell.

The dramatic effect of Edyth's story was highly intensified by the fact that she was naturally very modest, even bashful-and the scarlet flame which lit her cheeks as certain portions of the narrative obliged her to use obscene words and phrases betrayed the effort it was costing her to repeat the lurid tale.

In her sexual expansions she was the embodiment of passionate fervor. But both before, and after the act, an innate modesty cloaked her words and actions. She was easily embarrassed, and blushed furiously at anything savoring of naughtiness, and her reluctance and ingenuous confusion at being seen naked was something delicious to behold. I had seen so much boldness and had been so accustomed to having mere nudity taken quite forgranted, that her blushing bashfulness was really a delightful contrast. I entertained myself by teasing her with the deliberate intention of provoking blushes, begging her to let me see her naked or watch her while she was bathing, enticing her to take curious and unusual postures in intercourse, asking her to tell me how it felt, and how many times she had "come" etc., all of which threw her into the greatest confusion.

I have said that Edyth had no vices or eccentricities. She had however, one passionate hobby, and one pecular physical characteristic.

The physical peculiarity to which I have referred was something of a more intimate nature. She was one of those extremely rare females whom Mother Nature endows with what I not knowing the scientific term, would call a tit shaped clitoris. In my entire experience I have only encountered them in three women and one of these was a juvenile, to whom reference has already been made in chapter three of this biography.

Edyth's clitoris, under the influence of erotic stimulation, stiffened out in rigid erection, some three-eighths of an inch or more, and while so erected the slightest touch upon it was sufficient to throw her into wild frenzy. As orgasm approached, she lost all control of herself and gave such vociferous expression to her feelings as I had never listened to before. Warnings to the effect that she would surely be over-heard by occupants of adjoining apartments had no effect whatsoever. In her erotic frenzy nothing existed at the moment but she and I. Her demonstrations heightened my own excitation, but

they also embarrassed me, for I knew that they could, in the stillness of the night, be heard all through the building.

Eventually, I struck on the idea of placing my hand over her mouth before she reached orgasm. The first time I did this she sputtered and chocked, and indignantly accused me of trying to strangle her, but I accustomed her to the system. She said it "spoiled" part of her pleasure, and I disliked to do it, but I didn't relish the idea of providing the neighbors with free entertainment nightly and I had observed sly smiles on their faces when we passed them in the halls.

Edyth's naive modesty and simplicity charmed and intrigued me. With the exception of tl^e drama she had enacted for the purpose of revenging herself on her husband, her sexual experiences had been confined to the most conservative of conjugal expansions. Prom what she told me I gathered that her husband had not been of a very ardent disposition or else was weak sexually.

"It always took a long time for his thing to get stiff enough to go in!" she confided, with a blush.

Their sexual unions had been limited to once a week or less and it was with surprise she found that I could accommodate her every night

or when so inclined, two or thre.e times. Her disappointing married life and the period of complete abstinence which followed it, had brought her to a condition in which she was a veritable treasure house of hoarded emotions, and it was exactly at this propitious moment that I, to my good fortune, entered her life.

Her ideas as to what the proper were quaint in the extreme. Intercourse was supposed to be indulged in only at night, and under cover of darkness. To leave the light on, or in fact, to even be seen naked, was immodest. The only proper position was that in which the woman lies on her back, with the man on top. Mutual handling, or caressing of genital organs was very naughty, and as for the refinements, and perversions of love to which she had heard allusions of whose exact nature she had but vague ideas, they were not even to be discussed except in whispers.

I took a cynical and wicked delight in exploiting the innocent superstitions as fast as they came to my notice and diverted myself immensely by inciting, with my teasing and wheedling, certain conflicts between her naturally voluptuous disposition and this quaint modesty.

"Edyth, darling," I pleaded coaxingly, as prior to retiring for the night, she slipped on her night-gown before removing her undergarments, "why don't you want me to see you naked ? You know I love to . . . but you always have something on, just to deprive me of the pleasure!"

"Gilbert! You've seen me naked often enough!"

"Why, darling, you know I haven't seen you naked half a dozen times. You've got the prettiest form of any girl I ever saw," I would add cunningly, "I don't see why you want to keep it hidden from me."

Such a plea, of course, was irrisistible.

"Well, for heaven's sake! I suppose you'll keep on teasing until I take off my night-gown!"

And off it came, while she stood blushing before me for a moment.

"Come closer darling."

When she came within arm reach, I twined my fingers in the cluster of silky brown curls at the apex of her legs.

"I had a suspicion about what part of my form you wanted to see!"

When I learned that intercourse was supposed to be enjoyed only at night under cover of dark^ ness I immediately developed an insatiable desire for daylight gratification.

"Edyth," I whispered one day I took her on my knees after lunch, "I want to do it so bad I just can't wait until night. Just feel this!"

"But I'm all dressed!" she exclaimed in a suffocated voice.

"All you have to do is just slip off your panties!"

A bit of coaxing, liberally interspersed with kisses, and as usual I won my point. With reddened cheeks, she unfastened the little silken garment and lay down on the sofa.

"Darling, lie face down this time. It gives me the nicest feeling to have your bottom rubbing against me!"

"Gilbert!" she protested, in shocked indignation.

In this, as always, she yielded after the requisite coaxing, turning over on her stomach.

I raised her dress, exposing the firm beautiful hemispheres, and placed myself above her with my knees between her legs. Slipping one hand down the front of her bodice over one of her breasts, I inserted the other one under her abdomen and placed my finger on her clitoris. Her. bottom quivered and vibrated against my stomach, in instantaneous response to the caress.

The opportunity to let her make all the racket she wanted to was a good one, for it was midday and the noise of traffic in the street below was such to lessen the probability of being overheard. Pressing my cock into her as far as it would go, I began to titillate her clitoris with

my finger. And, as I had anticipated, the show began.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! she shrieked, "Oh, that's good! It's wonderful! Oh! Gilbert, dearest, darling, Oh! Oh! Oh!"

For ten or fifteen minutes I kept her squealing and kicking, under the double provocation of a cock inside and a finger outside, and then unable to longer resist the contagious excitation my own organism released itself.

"Gilbert, did I make much noise?" she asked guiltily, after it was all over, and we had arranged our clothing.

"If there was anyone closer than Trafalgar Square who didn't hear you, I'll be surprised, darling."

"Oh!" she gasped, horrified. "Why didn't you put your hand over my mouth?"

"You know where both my hands were, dear. Tell me, honey, did it feel nice? Do you like it that way? How many times did you come?"

"Gilbert! I don't want to talk about it!"

"Why not, darling?"

"Gilbert, will you please hush up?"

The extreme sensitiveness of her clitoris and its peculiar erectile qualities set me to speculating, almost involuntarily, as to what the effect of a warm tongue onit would be. Out of respect to her, I had refrained from even tentative explorations in the way of "frenching" but chance brought up the subject one night*

We were in bed, and Edyth was lying cuddled up by me. She was in a talkative mood. She had asked me a number of questions about Paris, and my experiences there, to which I gave discreet replies, when snuggling up closer to me, she said:

"Gilbert, there's something I want to ask you about …" she hesitated a moment, and continued in a low voice: "A woman told me, but I don't know whether it's really true. Do those French girls really let men do it to them in the mouth? . . . And do men do it to them with their tongues, too?"

When I was able to speak with composure, I replied:

"Well, darling, the French girls haven't any exclusive patents on it! I guess women of all nationalities take it that way sometimes, if they like a man well enough. And the same thing applies to men."

"Gilbert! Did you ever do that to a woman with your tongue?"

"Who? Me? Why, no, darling," I answered, discreetly, 'I never met a woman I cared for well enough to do that. That is, until I met you. I'd do it that way for you in a minute, if you wanted it."

"Why, Gilbert! That's terrible !"

"Why is it terrible, honey?"

"It's nasty!"

"That depends on the woman. You're not nasty. Youspend half your time in the bath tub. You're as clean and sweet down there as a newly budded rose!"

"I don't mean that way! I mean, It's indecent!" ^

"Well, darling," I lied hypocritically, "I always thought so, too, until I met you. Someway, that sort of makes it seem different. You're so fresh and sweet I'd just as soon put my lips on this, (and I placed my hand on it) as I would on your cheek!"

She remained silent for a few moments, digesting what I had said, and I whispered insinuatingly :

"They say it feels wonderful to a woman, better than any other way. Do you want me to do it to you once that way, just to see?"

"Gilbert! Htish up!"

"Just feel how this little thing is swelling up! I'll bet it would like a nice kiss if its mama didn't object!"

Her limbs trembled convulsively and the "little thing" to which I referred was standing up and pulsing violently.

"Gilbert! … If you don't hush up I swear

Til get up and sleep on the lounge! Take your hand away from there!"

"All right, darling!"

The next day, while leaving a store in which I had purchased some little gifts for her my attention was attracted to a beautiful coat on display in the window. It was an exquisite garment of genuine ermine, and a price tag announced that it was on sale at the specially reduced price of forty pounds. Business had been good and I was tempted to buy the cloak for Edyth. I turned and started back into the store but as I did so it occurred to me that perhaps it would be advisable to get her opinion on it before making the rather costly purchase.

After we had dined that night I suggested a walk. Window shopping was one of her favorite diversions and she agreed with alacrity. A bit later we were gazing into shop windows at finery temptingly displayed, and without disclosing my purpose, I steered her around, until we were in front of the store where the coat was on display.

"Look at that coat, Edyth!" I exclaimed, "Isn't it a beauty"

She gazed at it rapt eyed, and drew a deep breath.

"Oh! Isn't it lovely! And look, Gilbert, only forty pounds!"

She feasted her eyes on it, and as she reluctantly turned away, I said carefully:

"Well, honey, we'll be rich some day, and you'll have a coat like that.'

It was my intention to surprise her with it the next day.

We returned to our apartment and while I sat in the library reading the evening paper, Edyth undressed, and soon I heard her splashing in the bath tub. When she finished bathing she came into the room where I was sitting with a dressing gown draped about her and sat down. She seemed to be preoccupied, and was silent until I laid down my paper. As I did so, she remarked pensively:

"I sure would like to have that coat we saw."

"Yes, the coat is a beauty. Looks like it was just made for you."

"It's a bargain, too. Only forty pounds."

"We'll be able to buy coats like that before long if business continues to improve."

"I've got ten pounds saved up now. I believe I could save the rest in three or four months."

"I'm afraid the coat will be sold long before that, honey."

I got up, and standing behind her chair, tilted her face upward, and kissed her lips. As I did so, the dressing gown fell open sufficiently to

disclose a pair of luscious white bubbles, free for once, of their customary harness. And, as pretty breasts always have done, and always will, they turned my thoughts to subjects other than coats.

More with the intention of teasing her than seriously and without premeditation, I said as my hands closed over the snowy globes:

"Honey, you know we're not exactly rich, but I'll make you a proposition. Let me do that to you once, and I'll buy you the coat!"

She looked at me uncomprehendingly.

"Do what?" she asked.

"You know . . . what we were talking about last night,"

She gazed at me wide eyed for a moment and then as she recollected the subject of our conversation of the previous evening and comprehended what I meant, she turned crimson and exclaimed:

"Gilbert! Stop talking about those indecent French tricks!"

"You'd look piarvelous in that coat."

"Will you hush up?"

"And the price they've got it marked … it will be gone before noon tomorrow."

"No!"

"Just once, to see what it's like."

"No! No! No!"

And she jumped up and fled into the bedroom.

Snickering to myself, I again picked up my paper.

A few minutes later she was back again, and as I glanced at her I .saw that her cheeks were still red. She appeared to have something she wished to say, and I waited expectantly.

"Gilbert …" she murmured, and hesitated uncertainly.

"Well, honey?"

"Gilbert . . . did you . . . really mean . . . what you said?"

"About what, darling?"

"That if I let you do that to me once, you'd buy me that coat?"

With each word the color in her face became more vivid

"Of course I mean it, honey! I wouldn't go back on my word."

There was a long silence during which her eyes were turned toward the' floor.

"Well … all right, then!"

"Hurrah!" I exclaimed, "I've been wanting to try that so bad I just couldn't hardly wait for you to say yes!" and jumping from my chair, I lifted her up in my arms, kissed her flushed cheeks and then stood her back on the floor.

"Just this once, now, remember that!"

"Well, hurry up then and come to bed and get it over with!"

As she stood there, with cheeks blazing and eyes averted, an idea occurred to me by which additional touch of the exotic might be added to the delicious rite and without saying anything to her, I immediately began clearing off the big library table. When I had removed its divers ornaments and utilities, I told her to bring a blanket and pillow from the bedroom.

"What for?" she asked, in bewilderment.

"For you to lie on, honey. I'm going to put them on the table.

"On the table?" she gasped.

"Yes, on the table, honey. Just like a big luscious piece of strawberry shortcake. Only this shortcake won't need any cream or sugar!"

"Gilbert!" she exclaimed, in a horrified voice.

"With the coat you'll be the prettiest girl in London."

"Gilbert! I am NOT going to get up on that table!"

"Genuine ermine, too. The rest of these ladies around here will be green with envy." I continued, and without waiting for her to execute the order I went myself to the bedroom, and obained the articles referred to and arranged them neatly on the massive table.

She watched my preparations to serve her

•up like a plate of after dinner dessert as though paralyzed. I could contain myself, but I managed to keep a straight face, and when all was arranged to my satisfaction, I said:

"All right, honey! Now you can take your clothes off!"