The Romance of Violette

CHAPTER VI

The next day, at five minutes to nine, Violette was in a bath perfumed with verbena, and I in a cupboard in a corner of the room, whence I could see and hear everything. All traces of my presence had disappeared, and the sheets had been changed and sprinkled with eau-de-Cologne.

At exactly nine o'clock a carriage stopped at the door.

A moment later, the Countess was ushered in by Leonie, who left and closed the door, which was instantly bolted by the Countess.

The bathroom was lighted up by a lamp in a rose-coloured vase of Bohemian glass, which shed a soft and discreet light.

“Violette! Violette” cried the Countess, “where art thou?”

“Here, in the dressing room,” replied the young girl.

The Countess sprang across the room in three strides, and stopped at the door.

Violette nearly stood up in the bath, showing her Nerean-like form, with arms outstretched.

“Oh! my darling!” cried the Countess, throwing her self into her arms.

She was clad in a long blouse of black velvet, fastened at the neck by a large diamond and held at the waist by a Russian belt woven with gold, silver and cherry-coloured silk.

She began by pulling off her boots and her rose-coloured dress, unfastened her belt and divested herself of her blouse.

Under the black velvet blouse she wore a cambric peignoir, edged with Valenciennes round the neck and cuffs.

She then slipped off the peignoir and appeared in a nude state.

The Countess was a truly splendid woman; the type of Diana the huntress. Her chest was more fully developed than her breasts; her waist was as pliant as the stem, of a tree that waves in the breeze; the parts below were perfection, and lower still might be seen a mass of luxuriant and reddish hair, which resembled flames shooting out of a crater.

She went to the bath and wished to enter it.

But Violette stopped her.

“Ah! Let me feast my eyes upon your charms,” said she. “You are so beautiful!”

“Do you really think so, sweet darling?”

“Oh, yes, I do.”

“Look on, then, look on! that I may feel the burning sensation of your eyes upon me. See, all this is yours! See! My eyes, my mouth, my bosom…”

“And this pretty bouquet also?” asked Violette.

“Oh yes! That especially!”

“What a beautiful colour!” said the young girl. “Why is it not the same as that of your chevelure?”

“Why should not my chevelure be of the same colour? Why am I a woman not fond of men? Because I am a compound of contrasts. Come, sweet love, make room for me, that I may feel my heart beat against thine.”

The bath was long and there was room for both. The Countess stepped in and sat beside Violette.

The water, as transparent as crystal, allowed me to see everything.

The Countess entwined herself with snake-like movements round Violette; she passed her head under her arm, took a little bite there, and put her lips on Violette's mouth.

“Ah!” she said, “at last you are mine, you naughty child, and now I shall be revenged for all the tortures I endured for your sake.

“Approach your mouth, your lips, your tongue. When I think that it was a man who first gave you a kiss of that kind; who taught you to return it, I am half inclined to strangle you!”

And like a serpent shooting its head forward, the Countess darted kiss upon kiss, while her hand fondled Violette's bosom:

“Oh, darling breasts, my sweet ones!” murmured the Countess. “It was through you that I lost my head; it is you who have made me mad with passion!”

And she caressed them, half closing her eyes, throwing her head back, and breathing hard.

“But do speak to me, rapture of my soul!” she said.

“Odette, dear Odette!” murmured Violette.

“How she does say that, the little frigid thing. She says it as she would say 'Good morning!' Are you not afraid that your own Christian would hear you? Wait, wait, and we shall add a sharp to the key to make the note half a tone higher.” And her hand slipped from the bosom to the hips and thence lower still; but at that stage it stopped as if hesitating.

“Do you feel my heart throbbing against your breast? Ah! If it could kiss your own as my mouth presses your lips!… if it could!… Do you feel anything?”

“Yes,” murmured Violette, who began to feel the forerunner of pleasure. “Yes! Your finger, is it not?”

“You are so young, so little experienced, that I can hardly find the darling little love nipple which gives the flower of life to all nature! Ah, now! Here it is!…”

“How soft your finger is! What a gentle and delightful touch.”

“Shall I do it faster, more vigorously?”

“No, no! It is quite nice as it is.”

“But your own hands; where are they?”

“I told you that I knew nothing and that you would have to teach me.”

“What? Even teach you how to have a sensation?”

“Oh, no! That will come… will come of its own accord. Odette!… Dear Odette!… Odette!…”

The Countess caught up the remainder of the sigh in a kiss.

“That's right,” said she. “It is not enough to be able to speak a language; you must use the right accent, too.”

“I am a willing pupil,” said Violette, “I ask for nothing better than to learn.”

“Then let us leave the bath. I cannot put my head under water; and I have to add something in speech to my demonstration.”

“Yes,” said Violette, “there is a fire and warm towels.”

“Come,” said the Countess, “I will wipe your body dry.”

She came out dripping with the glistening drips of water, beautiful as Thetis, proud like her. She thought she had vanquished her rival-that is, your humble servant-and looked quite triumphant.

Violette. borne in her arms, cast a glance towards me as if to say: “All that I am doing is in obedience to your orders.”

All the curtains were drawn and the room was lighted up only by the glitter of the fire.

Both came to the fireplace shivering. But the Countess thought only of Violette. I could hear her, while plying the towels, praise the parts of the form on which her hand rested in turn. Each received its share of caresses, of eulogy. The neck, arms, back, shoulders, breasts-all came, so to speak, in chronological order. As for herself, the heat of her person sufficed to dry her skin. Violette remained passive under the caresses of the Countess.

Now and then the Countess would upbraid her.

“But you do not think my breasts are beautiful? I suppose so, since you will not kiss them. Do you not find my hair soft enough for your pretty fingers? I must tell you that I am all afire, and that presently you must in your turn, return all the pleasure I give you.”

“But, dear Odette,” replied Violette, “you know very well that I am a little ignoramus.”

“Yes; but you said also you were willing to learn. Well, I will teach you.”

I saw them pass before me in a state of perfect nudity.

The Countess carried Violette to the bed and laid her across it, knelt on the black bearskin, parted her thighs and gazed longingly on that charming sanctuary of love; then suddenly, with nostrils dilated, her lips curled up, and with teeth like those of a panther eager for its prey, she pressed her lips to it.

This mode of caressing is generally a cause of triumph for a woman who seeks to defeat a male rival. She must, by dint of skill and agility, leave no cause for regret to the mistress with whom she plays a part which is not natural to her.

It seems that, when promising rapturous pleasures to Violette, the Countess had not made an empty boast. I felt rather jealous when I saw my dear little mistress roll about, writhe and pant, and almost faint under the greedy mouth which seemed to wish to inhale even her very soul.

It is true that, for a painter, the sight was most interesting and amply compensated me for the little fit of jealousy to which I humbly confess I gave way.

The Countess on her knees, and well settled on her heels, followed with her body, all the movements of Violette's body and her beauteous form writhed about so that I could have sworn she lost nothing in being the active instrument, and that perhaps she even gained something by it.

At last both performers exhausted by their efforts, were fain to lie side by side and take a rest.

“Ah!” murmured the Countess, “you must repay part of your debt to me.” And with these words she drew Violette close to her, took her hand, and placed it on that tawny part of her person which formed such a contrast to her blonde hair and black eyebrows.

But Violette had her instructions and acted up to them marvellously. No doubt the Countess had occasion to find fault with her, for I heard her whisper: “That is not the right spot, your finger is too high… There, there; now it is too low. Do you not feel something there?

Well that is where you must act. It is this tickling which brings pleasure. Ah! you are doing it on purpose, you naughty little thing!”

“I assure you I am not,” replied Violette. “I am doing my best to please you.”

“When you have hit the right place why do you withdraw your finger? There you are at it again!”

“My finger slips.”

“Oh! You have set me all afire, and you do nothing to extinguish the flames!”

“Listen, my handsome lover,” said Violette, “let us try something else.”

“What?”

“Lie down on the bed with your head towards the mirror, and I will caress you with my mouth.

“I will do all you wish.”

The Countess lay at full length, with eyes to the ceiling, her thighs well parted and her body curved by the rotundity of the bed.

This was the moment agreed upon, and I crawled out of the dressing room.

“Am I in a convenient posture?” inquired Odette, with a final motion of her back.

“Yes, I think you are,” replied Violette.

“There now; you can begin.”

I followed to the letter the instructions that were given to my little friend.

“Is that the right place?” asked Violette.

“Yes. And now… your mouth… And mind, if you do not give me pleasure, I shall strangle you.”

I applied my mouth to the spot and had no trouble in finding the thing which Violette pretended not to have found. It was all the easier, because I noticed that in the case of the Countess it was longer than usual. It seemed to be the nipple of a. virgin's breast excited by a lover's lips. I seized it in my mouth, and rolled it gently between my lips.

The Countess heaved a voluptuous sigh.

“Oh!” said she, “that is just the thing; and I think that if you keep on like that… I think… I think you will no longer be in my debt.”

I went on as she bid Violette, but drew the latter to me and pointed out to her the part she was to take in the trio.

But with me Violette was not clumsy as with Odette. Divining the thousand caprices of love's pleasures, she placed her mouth where I had put her hand, and I found that she was doing to me the very counterpart of what I did to the Countess, save that there was a difference in the shape of the objects performed upon.

The Countess seemed to experience the most voluptuous pleasures.

“Oh! really,” said she, “it is just as I like it. Ah! you little story teller, you said I must teach you; but you are too clever… not so fast!… I wish it lasted forever… forever! Oh! your tongue…”

Had I been able to speak I would have paid just the same compliments to Violette. The passionate child had certainly the instinct of all the artifices of love.

I own I derived considerable pleasure from the caresses which I lavished upon the Countess. Never had I pressed my lips upon a sweeter peach. In this woman of twenty-eight all was firm and youthful as in a girl of sixteen. It was easy to perceive that the brutality of man had exercised itself there only to open a way for more delicate caresses.

The Countess gave expression to her wonder and admiration.

“Oh!” said she, “how strange, I never had such pleasure before. Oh! I will not let you go on unless you promise to commence again. The impression of your lips and your tongue is so sweet; I cannot keep it back any longer! It is coming! I feel it! I feel it! No! It cannot be Violette who gives me so much pleasure; it is impossible!”

Violette did not at all feel inclined to reply.

“Violette, tell me, is it you! Oh, no! That is impossible. You are too clever for a woman. A woman could never do this!”

The Countess tried to raise herself up, but with my hands firmly pressed to her breasts I kept her down. Besides the supreme sensation was nigh; I was quite aware of that. So I redoubted my efforts, and my moustache began to play its part in the tickling. The Countess writhed and almost shrieked; then I felt the climax had come; my lips gave the finishing touch, and the amorous spasm shook the whole frame of the Countess.

My excitement had also reached the highest pitch, and I gave way to it at the very same moment.

Violette was lying half dead at my feet.

I had not sufficient strength left to prevent the Countess from rising from the bed.

At a single glance she realized how matters stood, and, springing up, she cried out with anger.

“Well, dear Violette,” said I, “I have done my best to quarrel with the Countess. You must now be the peacemaker.”

Thereupon I retreated to the dressing room.

Then a stormy scene took place. I heard cries, reproaches, and finally sighs, and I looked out, and saw Violette who had taken my place near the Countess, doing her best to make my peace with her.

“Ah!” said the Countess, when Violette had concluded her speech. “I must say that this is good; but just now it was exquisite!”

And she gave me her hand. So we were friends again.