Latin Submission Page 10

  'The wonderful thing about Gerard was that he never spoke down to you; he never patronised you. He was always interested in other people's opinions, always listened to what you had to say, no matter how naïve it may have seemed. His hand would reach up to his temples and sweep through his thick white hair, and slowly, he would show you - show you, not tell you - where you were mistaken, how there were other ways of seeing the world. He was a writer, too, a novelist and a short story writer. A beautiful writer: every carefully crafted word breathed his humanity.

  'Well, anyway, although most professors saw me as a miserable girl - or a nuisance, as I would often question their interpretations of books that I had read many more times than they - Gerard seemed to take a liking to me. I would often stay behind after his tutorials and listen to him recommend more and more books to me. Then, as we became more friendly, we would go for a coffee. A few weeks later he invited me to dine with his wife at their house. His wife, by the way, was stunningly beautiful, a dark-haired Spanish woman some twenty years younger than Gerard, but equally as kind and understanding.

  'I was so happy when I was with them. I felt that they were the family I had never really had. I could not wait for Gerard's lectures, or the intimate little chats we would have after them. I prayed for another invitation to his house.

  'By Easter, my dreams were fulfilled. Gerard invited to stay with him in a small gite he owned in Normandy. I cannot tell you how happy that made me. His wife was there, too. All three of us would go for long walks in the countryside. And then, in the evening, Maria would cook one of her Spanish specialities and we would talk and talk and talk about everything.

  'A couple of days after I had arrived, and having maybe drunk too much wine, Maria asked me about boys, why such a pretty girl as myself didn't have a boyfriend. I tried to say I had not met anyone I liked.

  'These were the last people I wanted to tell my sorry story to, but I could not help it. It all came out - everything. Through the sadness that had been hurting me for so long, I told them what had happened with Antoine, Jean and Albert, confessing also to the pleasure I had felt. Before I had finished, I had broken down in a flood of tears.

  'Maria, thinking that maybe this was a woman's problem, told Gerard to go to bed. We stayed up for hours talking, she comforting me, sympathising with me, telling me that I mustn't worry, that I couldn't let what had happened spoil my life. That night we slept together. That's all, just slept together, she holding my body in her arms, my head resting against her breast. It was probably the most restful night I had had for longer than I could remember.

  'In the morning when I woke up, I felt different, not so comfortable with everything I had confessed to them. I felt a little ashamed that all my secrets were out. They were the people I cared about most in the world and now they knew everything about me, everything dirty and sordid.

  'Maria must have sensed my discomfort. She told me that she understood everything, that I mustn't worry, that both she and Gerard thought I had been so brave to confess my troubles, that I had done the right thing and they both felt honoured that I had chosen them to confide in.

  'After Maria had calmed me, she went downstairs and I stayed in her beautiful warm bed, eventually falling back to sleep.

  'A couple of hours later I got out of bed, showered, and went downstairs in search of Maria, but she wasn't there. I found Gerard in his study, smoking on his pipe so professorially. A book, as ever, rested in his lap.

  '"Where is Maria?" I asked, feeling a little shy. Despite Maria's encouraging words, shame still clung to me.

  '"Oh Maria," Gerard said, looking up from his book, a little distractedly. "Maria has gone out to leave us alone."

  'It was an odd thing for Gerard to say. We never had any secrets between us; nothing had ever been concealed from Maria. She always participated in all our conversations, sharing our interest in literature, making incisive observations that caused both myself and Gerard to pause for thought.

  'Gerard went back to reading his book, while I went to the kitchen to fix myself breakfast. A few moments later, Gerard came into the kitchen.'

  '"Can we talk?" he said, resting his hand lightly on my shoulder. Gerard had always been tactile with me, but Gerard was tactile with everybody.

  '"Of course," I said. I was a little confused. Gerard, normally such a jovial man, seemed a little serious.

  '"What do you think I meant when I told you that Maria has left us alone?"

  'I shook my head.

  '"We both talked about what you told us last night, and Maria said that she thinks we should make love in the way that you like. That is why she has left us." Gerard laughed. "It seems a preposterous idea, no? More Molière than Rimbaud. An old man, about forty-five years older, propositioning his young, beautiful student."

  'I had thought about having sex with Gerard before, but only very casually - as we all think about having sex with just about everybody - but I had dismissed this idea as I had dismissed other casual, fantastic fancies. For the first time in our relationship, I consciously turned my mind to the idea of Gerard as a sexual man, as a sexual man for me. No, the idea didn't seem preposterous. Gerard was an old man, but he looked much younger than his years; he was a sturdy, vibrant man who had kept himself in trim. I felt my blood rushing through my body. My heart pounded as he spoke.

  '"Maria thinks it could help you. She's not a jealous woman. We are too close for that. We went beyond jealousy a long time ago. Maria thinks you need to have a positive sexual experience with someone who cares for you, who won't let you down." The more I thought about it, the more I wanted Gerard. My body trembled in anticipation of his touch.

  '"I don't want to lie to you or to deceive you. Maria thinks it would be good for you to make love with me. I think it would be good for me. Beatrice, I'm an old man, an academic: a man of books, of learning, of words. Maybe in a few years I'll be dead. I would like for one last time to make love to a beautiful young girl. I cannot think of a young girl I would rather make love to than you. Our tastes, you may not know, are quite compatible."

  'Gerard hadn't touched me in all the time that he was speaking; he had just sat beside me at the breakfast table, his soft voice calmly addressing me, as if he was elucidating some intriguing point about Rimbaud.

  '"Remember the madeleines, Beatrice? Remember the madeleines of Proust: how he tastes the cake and it reminds him of all the other madeleines that he had eaten before when he was a child. Well, when I was a young man - although you may not believe it, looking at the old carcass before you - but I made love to many beautiful women. What am I saying, Beatrice?"

  '"That you want me to be your madeleine?"

  '"Yes, I suppose I do. Just one last time. A taste of the present, fresh and immediate that will allow me to rekindle the exquisite memories of the past."

  '"I would love to make love with you, Gerard." I smiled at him, stroking his hand gently with my own.

  'He leant over to me, held me in his arms and kissed me gently on the lips, lightly, brushing his mouth tenderly against mine. Yes, I wanted him so badly. I felt that the heavy depression that had settled on me for so long was beginning to lift at last. He kept on kissing me slowly, softly, but I was greedy now. I forced his trembling lips open with my tongue and kissed him passionately, my hand reaching down to feel his hard cock through his cotton trousers.

  'I felt liberated at last, free from those horrible boys, free from my own pain and despair, liberated in my need and in my lust.

  'I was wearing a knee-length woollen skirt. Underneath, I wore nothing but a little pair of cotton panties. I pulled away from him and leant my bottom against the table so that his eyes rested around my middle.

  '"Look at me, Gerard. Look at me!"

  'He reached down to my knees, to the hem of my skirt. Slowly he raised it: first above the knee, then a few inches higher to my thighs, then higher, stari
ng intently at my legs, the tips of his fingers finally reaching the edge of my panties. Then my panties were visible and he could look at the faint dampness of my pussy through the cotton.

  'He sank his face into my groin and kissed my pussy through the delicate material. He breathed deeply through his nose, filling his lungs and inhaling my scent. He cupped my buttocks and held me while I stroked his white hair and squeezed him close. At that moment I felt more affection for that old man than I ever had for anybody else before.

  'With surprising strength he lifted me up and turned me over on the large pine table. My skirt was quickly rolled up, leaving my bottom exposed before him. "I'm going to beat you now, my dear. I'm going to punish you, and by punishing you I will banish your pain forever."

  'I remained where I was while he left the room. I felt calm and at peace, but I did not have to wait long. He returned with a thick tawse. I could smell the sharp tang of leather in the morning air. He dangled the strap between my buttocks, and made me shudder with anticipation. "I'm going to beat you hard, Beatrice, harder than you have ever been beaten before."

  'I closed my eyes and somehow heard him lift the implement and bring it sweeping down onto my vulnerable buttocks. I heard the slap of leather biting into flesh, there was a split second of nothing when the world inside that kitchen stood still, and then the delicious impact ripped through my consciousness. My whole body jerked and the table creaked. I could hear his breathing increasing in volume and pace as I savoured each vicious stroke. The sharp pang of pain, transmuted to the searing heat in my buttocks, suffusing my whole body with an irresistible glow. I badly wanted Gerard to punish me.

  'He concentrated on my bottom, each lash sending a delicious shiver through my body, through to the core of my very soul. For variety, Gerard would lower his aim, stinging me on the top of my thighs; the ache in my behind was overlaid with the sharp, bitter-sweet pain burning my thighs.

  'I knew that Gerard was getting very excited. He turned me over so I could watch him. I gripped the edges of the table. I looked up at him as he raised my legs and eased them back until my knees pressed against my breasts and he could continue giving me a wonderful thrashing.

  'Perspiration was trickling down his grey-white temples and his face was red. He gripped the strap tightly in his hand. I watched it flash through the air, heard the quick clap of the leather on my bottom, on my thighs, on my legs, felt the delicious cleanness of pain. Gerard was liberating me, thrashing out of me all that repressed guilt, all my shame, all my cowardly regrets. I exulted in my pain. Lash after lash purified me, made me feel whole again.

  'When he finished thrashing me he dropped the tawse and his mouth descended on my clitoris. Oh, how Gerard loved my little clit! How he loved to suck on it, to lick on it, to flatten his tongue on it, to take it between his fingers and firmly pinch as I shuddered helplessly.

  'Eventually, he stood up and pulled his penis from his trousers. It was long and thick. Juice glistened on the head. I wanted to suck him, to suck his fabulous cock, to take it all in my mouth, to feel his seed sliding down my throat - but he was too hungry for my pussy. Before I had a chance to taste him, he was deep within me. Oh, you don't know how fantastic it was for me to feel his loving cock inside me. I had never dreamt of such pleasure. To have that pain in my legs, in my bottom, the red-hot fire on the surface of my skin: and then the rapturous joy of him fucking me. I yielded to the pleasure, and I yielded to the pain.

  'I came quickly, clenching him. One orgasm followed another. I came and came, but still Gerard did not ejaculated. He pulled out of me and I just knew what he wanted.

  'I climbed off the table and sank to my knees before him. I held him in my fist and sucked him into my mouth. Gerard held my head in both his hands and pulled me further onto him. My face touched his trousers, and he held me still. His fingers clamped into my hair. It hurt a little, but I did not care. I heard him groan, and then my mouth filled with his delicious seed. I swallowed greedily, and his beautiful cock twitched and filled my mouth again.

  '"C'est fantastique!" Gerard sighed above me.

  I was mightily aroused now, listening to Beatrice's story. I had prompted her to tell me more and more, to give me every detail of her narrative just as she had willingly taken every drop of Gerard's offering.

  Throughout, she had been toying idly with my stiffening cock and, as she reached the climax of her story, she had begun to gently stroke me with her open palm, running her slender fingers up and down my shaft.

  'But that is not all,' she continued as I struggled to contain my excitement. 'No sooner had Gerard come inside my mouth, than he picked me up, so strong was he for all his years, and carried me upstairs to his room. I wanted him again; wanted him inside me. My heart ached for him. I needed Gerard. I needed his strong domination... his discipline.

  'Once inside his room, with the walls lined by his erudite books, Gerard placed me on the bed and undressed.

  'Pulling a few of his wife's silk scarves from the wardrobe, he took my hands in turn and fastened them to the posts of the bed, pulling the silk tight around my wrists. Then he did the same with my ankles, so that it was virtually impossible for me to move.

  'It was fantastic to surrender myself to him like that, to feel so totally within his power, so weak, so vulnerable: to become a thing, a toy, an object to do with whatever he desired. And then the coup de grace: as well as binding my legs and arms, Gerard covered my eyes, immersing me in complete darkness so I had no visual distractions: I could concentrate entirely on the pleasure and pain that he would bring to my body.

  'I felt something hard being pressed against my vulva, pushing my pussy-lips further and further apart. Whatever it was, it was cold and hard and very thick. I could feel it sliding into my vagina. I was beginning to relax and accept whatever it was when it was suddenly removed and forced into my mouth. It had the shape of a penis - a very big penis. When I lived at home I had found my mother's dildo in a bottom drawer of her wardrobe, so I was not totally innocent about such things.

  'I could taste my own juices on the latex. Gerard left the dildo in my mouth. It stretched my lips wide, and my jaw started to ache a little. I could feel him moving away, moving back between my legs. A pillow was stuffed beneath my hips, lifting me to his mercy, and then a strap of some sort was fitted around my waist. Some kind of contraption was being attached to me. I squealed then at the sudden shock, for two dildoes were pushed into me, one in my pussy... and the other in my bottom. I did not like it. I tried to move away, but it was impossible. It was painful to have these two things pressed so hard into me, to feel the intense pressure between my vagina and my rectum. I wanted to scream, but I could not.

  'Next, I felt the strap again burning into my skin, lashing across my breasts and across my stomach just above the leather belt that had been fastened on me. It was exquisite torture, not knowing which part of my body would next be engulfed in pain, and not knowing when he would next strike.

  'At last Gerard slipped the latex dildo from my mouth, and immediately replaced it with his lovely cock. I calmed and was happy again.

  'My head span in my delight. I could not understand it, but as I sucked him the tawse slashed down brutally against my thighs, my shins, and my feet. I shrieked and whimpered around the cock in my mouth, but the beating continued.

  'I soon felt another orgasm approaching. To my immense disappointment the cock slipped from my mouth. I searched blindly for it, but then there was movement on the bed, and soft flesh touched my cheeks and squatted over my face. I smelt the humid scent of a woman...'

  Beatrice fell silent for a few moments, clearly reliving that experience. Her fist moved more urgently up and down my cock, but I don't think she was really aware of what she was doing.

  'And then I tasted female flesh for the first time. Maria lowered herself and I tasted her juicy pussy. I licked gingerly. She was wet and open, and tasted de
licious, just as her husband had. I was barely aware of the one dildo being taken out, but I did groan with shock and sheer bliss when Gerard climbed between my thighs and penetrated my bottom with one long push. I could not believe what was happening to me; I was tied helplessly to the bed, I had a beautiful woman using my mouth for her pleasure, a dildo moving in and out of my pussy, and a stiff cock in my virgin bottom.

  'It was all too, too much.

  'Magical colours exploded in my head and I came violently. Through my pleasure I was just aware of Gerard coming in my bottom, and Maria writhing a panting as she also came on my face.

  'My orgasm was so intense, so debilitating, that the moment it passed I lost consciousness.

  'When I awoke, I was nestled between Gerard and his beautiful Spanish wife, clasped between their naked sleeping bodies, their love and their warmth.'

  My own cock was bursting as she lazily masturbated me with her beautiful cool fingers. It took long seconds before she came out of her reverie and noticed my critical condition. Without another word she climbed on top of me, eased herself onto my grateful erection, and fucked me. Her breasts swayed and bounced above my greedy eyes and I grabbed her taut buttocks. I pushed a finger between her buttocks and massaged her anus. The muscle resisted for a while, and then the tip of my finger popped just inside and she ground down onto the double penetration.

  We came together. Beatrice squealed and I grunted as I exploded inside her tight cunt, and then she flopped onto my chest and our breathing slowed in unison.

  We lay together in the darkness.

  'Gerard taught me everything,' she whispered sweetly, when I thought she had fallen asleep. 'He taught me how to look at what happened in the boys' toilet as a fortuitous experience, and to divorce the pleasure that I had experienced from the sordid betrayal that followed it. He got me to tell him every single detail and showed me how I could tell the story. If it had not been for him, I could never have described it to you in the way that I have.