The Palace of Eros

The repeated depictions of Eva’s bare bottom [Uncle Jack’s story continued], now marked from the floggings she had endured at the hands of her tormentors, were having their effect on the audience, and on none more than my young companions. With a shuddering sigh, my darling Nora lifted her left buttock for a moment. When she lowered it I realised that she had eased her thighs wider apart, permitting me to curl my fingers up so that their tips just tickled her little pussy through its silken covering.

Suddenly the screen was filled with bustling activity. A great warship had tied up in the harbour and drunken matelots were seen, first swarming down the gangplanks to throng the quayside and then carousing in the downstairs salon of the maison close. Through the fog of cigarette smoke we could see that a raised platform occupied the far end of this room. In the middle of the platform stood a bed.

There now appeared on the screen, in a florid script, a message which, translated to English, read about as follows: ‘STILL SORE FROM HER BRUTAL DEFLOWERING, YOUNG EVA IS FORCED TO MAKE HER STAGE DEBUT’.

In the film the drink-crazed sailors threw their pom-pom-adorned berets into the air, whooping with lecherous appreciation, as Eva, looking timid and dazed, wandered into the room and mounted the platform. She was dressed in bridal white, but would hardly have been allowed to tread the aisle of any church in that mockery of a wedding dress. Her pretty face was not covered but framed by a short veil hanging from a head-dress of orange blossoms. Instead of a modest gown she wore a loose, sleeveless, low-cut white tunic that did not quite reach to the tops of her white stockings. This tunic was secured around her tiny waist with a cord which caused it to flare out over her hips. Behind Eva strode the madame, attired as a circus ringmaster and cracking a vicious whip.

As well as arousing the tipsy mariners, the scene also had its effect on us and the rest of the somewhat more refined audience watching the film. Everyone seemed to be shifting in their seats and gasping, some of the women quite noisily. On my right, little Evelyn squeezed up against me and grasped my thigh. Whether her touch or the spectacle on the screen was the major provocation is hard to say, but my tool lengthened along the leg of my trousers until its tip nudged against the side of her hand.

Unheard by the audience except in the ears of their imagination, the sneering madame cracked her whip, urged on by the sailors. Eva began a stumbling, embarrassed dance on the edge of the platform. The whip curled round her waist and dislodged the bow with which the girl’s garment had been negligently tied. The tunic fell open. Although the plump little breasts were still covered, the rest of her almost virginal beauty was disclosed to the gaze of both sets of beholders: the actors within the cinematographic performance and those watching it with bated breath. For a moment we, the watchers of the film, were dazzled – the whole screen was filled with the whiteness of Eva’s body shown at short range, from her dimpling navel down to her garters. Between her slightly separated thighs, below a little cluster of curly blonde hair, the flower of her sex was partially visible.

The scene was emotional, and not a sound was heard in the room except the whirr of the film as it was fed into the projecting machine. Evelyn lifted her hand slightly and placed it over my rigid member. My own fingers, which had slyly crept up under her skirts, slipped inside her drawers to finger the humid flesh for which I longed. At the same time Nora, who must have sensed that her friend was developing a close intimacy with me and had no intention of being outdone, leaned more closely against me, resting her right cheek on my left one. I now had a finger at the tight, unopened pussy-entrance of each of my little darlings. All three of us kept our eyes fixed on the screen throughout these manoeuvres.

And now Eva was once again displayed at full length. A crack of the madame’s wicked bullwhip induced her to gyrate her hips reluctantly but suggestively, shrugging her shoulders and allowing the open tunic to fall to the floor. Apart from her white stockings and the head-dress with its little veil, the poor abused girl stood there in all her naked beauty. At the madame’s behest she turned and bent down until her face rested on the bed. Once more the camera vouchsafed us a really close view. Eva’s delicious bottom was exhibited in all its glory, the split peach of her sex pouting lewdly between the buttocks where they curved down to meet the tops of her thighs. The whip flicked across the screen and left a dark line which crossed obliquely from right thightop to left buttock, not sparing the tender fruit with its shading of soft down.

The lustful sailors had surged forward and were clamouring at the edge of the platform. Madame cracked her whip and raised her hands to appease them. For a moment the picture disappeared, to be replaced by a caption:

‘STEADY LADS. THERE’S ENOUGH HERE FOR THE WHOLE FLEET. YOU PAID YOUR MONEY AND YOU SHALL HAVE HER, BUT NOT ALL AT ONCE. LET’S HAVE SOME DISCIPLINE – UP YOU COME NOW, THREE AT A TIME.’

Three hefty matelots leapt on to the stage, divesting themselves of their bell-bottomed trousers even as they threw Eva down on the bed. Despite her screams she was held down on her back by two of the men. The third knelt between her forcibly parted thighs. His enormous cock, its foreskin drawn back and head exposed, projected in rigid, menacing erection. He mounted her. For the second time in her young life Eva’s sexual flower was about to be plundered without mercy.

Her white flesh formed a pathetic contrast with the hairiness of her ravisher’s thighs as he groped with one hand and endeavoured to place the head of his cock in the strategic spot.

‘NO! NO! NO! – OH! YOU’RE HURTING ME! – OH, DON’T! PLEASE DON’T!’

And her exclamations rose in a shriek of anguish, indicated on the screen in script beginning with small letters, which increased in size, terminating in immense letters that covered half the screen.

The brutal sailor had found the entrance and was about to force the lock which had only once before been opened. He thrust hard at her – the girls on either side of me shuddered and squirmed as the screen was filled with the spectacle of the whole length of his cock plunging into her tight, girlish cunt. ‘Look, Uncle Jack!’ gasped Evelyn. ‘His devil is pushing in and out of her hell like a steam engine!’

Eva’s white-stockinged legs flashed up in the air, but to no avail – the lucky sailor was fucking her ruthlessly, cruelly, eager to unload a cargo of spunk wich had been building up in his balls during many months on the high seas without land or a woman in sight. And, as he fucked, one of his shipmates mauled her breasts and sucked her nipples while the other one stuffed a fat cock into her mouth.

The trio rang the changes with their reluctant prize until all three had enjoyed her rosy nipples and achieved full stiffness between her lips with which to ravish her cunt. Successive parties of three took their places on the bed until Eva’s reluctance began to give way to what might have been exhaustion but looked suspiciously like the languor of sexual fulfilment. Some of the men who had begun by taking their pleasure between her legs still sported rigid poles when they withdrew. These connoisseurs of the slow dance saved their sperm until it was their turn to be taken into her mouth; their buttocks quivered as they inundated her throat with the freight of boiling spunk. Others, their taste for more normal modes of enjoyment perhaps perverted by the exigencies of life at sea, found their release in the forbidden rear passage of the lovely girl’s bottom.

As the action of the film became faster and more furious, my two little ‘nieces’ abandoned almost all restraint, encouraged in this by the dimly discerned behaviour of other members of the audience. Evelyn’s hand had found its way right inside the front of my trousers and her fingers were gently squeezing my hard tool. On my left, Nora had unbuttoned her blouse and eased down the shoulder straps of her bodice, camisole and richly laced chemise, so that a snow-white breast, tipped with coral, presented itself to the attentions of my lips and tongue. I sucked it as if it had been a delicious bonbon, doing my best to keep the screen in sidelong view.

Meanwhile my own hands had not been idle. Delightfully conscious of the contrasting textures of Evelyn’s silky, astrakhan-like curls and Nora’s crisper little blonde ones, I had parted their pouting lips and slid my fingers up and down the moist slits for some minutes until the juice was pouring down to saturate ther petticoats. The tips of my index fingers had then hovered over the swollen cherries emerging from their protective grottos, those buttons which serve as the thermometers of feminine pleasure.

By now the film was drawing to a close. No longer were the impatient mariners respecting the madame’s commands. Mutinous and tipsy, they took the platform by storm and rioted all over the bed. Every orifice of Eva’s body was used to slake their lusts, and she was buried beneath a heaving tangle of brawny backs, hairy legs and bouncing buttocks.

Suddenly the salon was empty. The crew had been summoned back to their ship; all their wantonness was forgotten under the influence of the tight naval discipline to which they were accustomed. Eva lay worn out on the soaked sheets.

The camera showed a truly scandalous view of her thighs, slackly open, and the plundered treasure between them. White foam bubbled from the opening of her vagina and poured down over the undersides of her bottom cheeks, filling the rift between them and pooling on the polluted bed.

As we gasped at this lubricious spectacle the viewpoint changed. Now the whole screen was filled with the girl’s pretty features as she lay exhausted after her ordeal. Spunk was spattered all over her face. Great gobs of it could be seen in the blonde tresses of hair which were spread over the pillow. The bridal veil attached to the little head-dress of orange blossoms, now sadly crushed and awry, still formed a poignantly charming frame to this picture. Her lips were slightly parted; white semen flowed from the corner of her mouth.

Eva opened her eyes to gaze up at the camera and at us, the spectactors of the film. One eye closed in a knowing wink and more spunk flooded from between her pearly teeth as she flashed a smile at us. The word ‘FIN’ replaced this image on the screen and the entertainment was over.

Or so everyone thought. But the house lights had hardly been turned up long enough for the audience to rearrange their clothing and extricate themselves from compromising entanglements with their partners when the screen was illuminated once more, this time by a spotlight. (My own engagement with the two little flappers on either side of me was sufficiently concealed by their skirts and by Nora’s hair, which hung down over the bare breast I had been sucking. I continued to frig them gently, always holding back when I sensed that they were on the brink of spending on my hands.)

Silence fell on the house once more as a small figure skipped into the circle of the spotlight. A round of applause went up. It was none other than the actress who had played the part of Eva in the cinematographic display. She was wearing the mock-bridal attire that had been used in the film, at once demure and lasciviously suggestive.

She smiled and bowed in acknowledgement of everyone’s applause, perhaps, except mine, whose hands were otherwise employed. Then she turned to face the screen. Lifting the back of her short tunic she tucked the hem into the cord around her waist. The living flesh of her lovely bottom was exposed to public view. She bent forward and reached a hand back between her legs to part the cheeks for us. When she straightened up she kept her back to us for a moment while hitching up the tunic in the same way in the front. Then she turned to face us.

The film in which she had performed so impressively had, of course, been devoid of colour. But now the creamy smoothness of her limbs and belly, themselves contrasting interestingly with the whiteness of her costume, was set off to fine effect by the triangular patch of golden fur she stroked and flaunted for our delight.

With a sprightly step, ‘Eva’ descended from the dais which supported the screen and advanced up the aisle between the rows of spectators. Some of these were rapturous and others seemed to be somewhat embarrassed. Speaking for myself as I sat there with my hands between my flappers’ thighs, I could not wait for the girl to reach our end of the room. To see the principal performer of a moving picture in the flesh had long been a secret dream of mine; it was about to be realised with more flesh visible than I had thought possible.

And now the girl drew level with us. She must have thought we made an interesting trio, for she stepped towards us with a saucy smile. Framing her blonde triangle in the inverted V of her fingers, she thrust her hips forwards as if offering us the tempting fruit with its pink bisecting line. With her free hand she took Nora’s left one and guided it to the fluffy mound; delicately she ran the flapper’s finger tip down the slit and up again. For a moment she worked it against the hidden bud. Once more she ran it downwards, and this time the lips parted to let it glide between them. At the bottom of the run ‘Eva’ whispered something I did not catch. Nora blushed and grinned. I saw her push her finger up to the knuckle into the young Thespian’s cunt. As she did so I felt a stream of warm juices flooding over my own fingers from Nora’s open sex.

I began to fear that the audience would leave their seats and gather round us at the back of the room. But gently holding Nora’s wrist, the actress pulled the finger out. With a naughty wink she raised it to her own mouth and licked it clean. And then she pranced back down the aisle, her bottom sustaining many playful slaps from the gentlemen seated on either side. For the last time she stood in the spotlight to take her bow before blowing us a succession of kisses and skipping off into the darkness.

Back in the hotel room Evelyn and Nora could hardly wait to tear off each other’s clothes and hurl themselves on the bed. ‘My sweet little darlings,’ I said as I began to undress, eager to make complete women of them. ‘When you are eighteen and the girls at school let you join the Lesbian Society you were telling me about, what exciting tales you will have to tell them.’

Nora smiled at me. ‘Oh, Uncle Jack,’ she said. ‘You will think it very naughty, but we have already been allowed to join the society.’

‘How was that?’

‘Gabrielle – she is our head girl – caught us doing some of the things you and Rose showed us when you took us out in Paris. She said it wasn’t our age that mattered but how much we knew.’

I made them lie side by side on the bed so that I could admire their sixteen-year-old charms while I completed my undressing. Nora, stripped naked, would have been a worthy model for a sculptor’s chisel. Just a nice height, just sufficiently plump without being too much so, she was made to perfection. One would have loved to die smothered by the soft but powerful grip of those full and rounded thighs, between which her fair downy-bush framed a flower so pure, so fresh, so tempting and so fragrant it seemed a crying shame that she was still virgo intacta.

My little Evelyn was not quite so well built as Nora. But if her forms were less plump they were more graceful and more full of nerves, which made them equally alluring. Evelyn was all energy and activity, while at the same time being just as passionately voluptuous as Nora, who, for her part, would rather be passive and tenderly submissive to refined caresses. At the base of Evelyn’s flat belly luxuriated a fine thick dark brown bush, sheltering in its shady folds a fountain in which I longed to quench my greedy thirst.

I allowed the girls to join together in a passionate embrace, urging them on with resounding smacks to their firm young bottoms. However, my own state of arousal was such that I could no longer delay my own satisfaction. When I intimated to them my strong desire to place my devil at long last into their hot, delightful hells, they responded with alacrity.

‘Oh yes,’ cried Evelyn. ‘After all the excitement of the film I just can’t wait to be treated like that lovely girl Eva.’

‘Well, my dear,’ I replied, ‘it will not be possible to arrange quite the same treatment for you. I have no intention of bringing ruffians in off the boulevards to defile you, so you will have to make do with your old uncle. What is more, instead of being shared by five dozen sweating sailors, you will have to share me with our darling Nora here.’

‘Will you really have enough for both of us?’ Nora enquired.

‘Of course he will,’ Evelyn reassured her. ‘Surely you remember how he distinguished himself in Paris? You haven’t forgotten why Mademoiselle Rose called him Monsieur Quatrefois? Or how much of that sticky juice came out of him when you stroked his – his prick’ (she said the word shyly) ‘to make him spend? Why, it shot up four or five feet into the air. When he had finished spending there was a long line covering the towel from just under his chin right down to where you had been playing with his rude parts – remember?’

Both girls laughed at the recollection and I gave them a solemn undertaking.

‘We have all night, my dears,’ I said. ‘By snatching some sleep now and then when I begin to flag, I can promise I shall have satisfied both of you at least four times by the morning. But I know you are desperate for it right now. Because I’ve only got one cock I can’t spend in both your cunnies at the same time, so I’m going to make sure that at least you have an equal share in making me come this first time. There is one little problem, though.’

‘What can that be?’ asked Nora, and I thought I noticed her winking slyly at her friend.

‘It’s bound to hurt a bit the very first time I put it in. But . . .’

‘Not at all,’ laughed Evelyn. ‘You see, Uncle Jack, we’re not virgins any more.’

I was devastated. After all the pains I had taken with their venereal education and all the consideration I had shown in keeping my promise to respect their physical integrity in Madame R’s establishment, how could these two youngsters have given themselves to another man (or boy? or men?), knowing as they must have done how hotly I desired to be their first lover? The pretty flappers laughed all the more at my hang-dog air. Nora explained.

‘You see,’ she said, ‘the girls in the Lesbian Society have this India rubber thing they strap round their hips so they can do it like a man. That was our initiation – they called it deflowering us. It did make us a little sore at first but I’m sure it was for the best. Here we are, not virgins though we’ve never been had by a man. And it won’t hurt a bit.’

This story had inflamed me even further until I could barely contain my sperm. A heavy drop of clear juice had formed on the tip of my instrument and was detaching itself to hang from a silken thread between my legs. I made the girls kneel side by side on the bed, their heads down on the pillows and their bottoms stuck well up with their sexual parts pouting out between the tops of their thighs. By inserting a finger into each of them (confirming, incidentally, the loss of their virginities) and churning the fingers about I caused the cunts to gape wetly.

My right knee I placed between Nora’s calves and my left one between Evelyn’s; my hands rested on their outer buttocks. By leaning slightly to my left I was able to slide into Evelyn without difficulty. The sleeve of flesh tightened provocatively around my stiff prick. I thrust in and out a couple of times before drawing right back and leaning across to spear Nora. The darling quivered and deluged me with her juices as I plunged deep into her long-desired cunt.

Soon I established a frenzied rhythm, shifting easily from one girl to the other and back again and never poking either of them more than two or three times before disengaging. So rapidly did I work that, as they told me afterwards, they both felt as if they were being stimulated continuously, while I myself almost seemed to be enjoying a deliciously uninterrupted fuck.

As I pumped away more and more furiously I found time to wonder which of my lovely ‘nieces’ would be the one to receive the outpouring of my loins and whether the other would be disappointed. I need not have worried. The first jet of semen squirted into Nora. But before its even more violent successor could race up my interior tube I was out of Nora and into Evelyn, stretching her pretty lips with the purple head of my tool just as the second load gushed forth. Back in Nora’s sopping cunny I discharged an even heavier package. From then on I lost count and almost lost consciousness. I seemed to be coming in a continuous stream. No longer could I make any effort to see that it was all delivered to one receptacle or the other; it flowed and spouted all over their bottoms and thighs and drenched the brocade cover of the bed. Yet even with this prodigious (and, I must confess, exciting) waste, my later investigations with fingers and tongue persuaded me that far more spunk had been deposited in each of my darling flappers than had been spilt externally.