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Niagara (continued Chapter 39-Chapter 52)

Chapter 38.

I triggered Henri’s private elevator and the doors eased to a meeting. I’d not waited their departure from the M1. I exited quickly but under control as the valet held my door open after graciously prompting me to take the key ring. “We have the duplicate, sir. How was your evening, Mr. Clarke?”

“Fine, thank you. “

“Good night, sir. “

I felt more than a tinge of embarrassment.

Word must have filtered thru by now of our relationship. I tried to read the faces of the young men who seemed to swarm the M1. But, I found nothing discernable. Just genial smiles or an earnest set to their countenance. Even the door man was neutral though he too knew my name now. The jig was up.

“Welcome home, Mr. Clarke. ” I nodded curtly in response then made a sullen beeline for Elevator-Henri.

As the doors closed rending us invisible I felt a weight lift, well at least a small portion of weight.

Papa took mercy and busied himself otherwise by singing softly in French to Girl as she clung tightly to him, her cheek resting on his magnificent chest, her eyes taking on a dreamy state as she watched me, well, watched me ruminate.

‘Act like somebody, damn it!’ I castigated myself.

I straightened as our ascent culminated, remembered my station, activated the doors and then gallantly moved aside to allow Henri and my wife to proceed me.

“Cully. ” Papa’s tone with a hint of sympathy. No, with empathy as he passed my gallant pose. My heart leapt.

Our entourage immediately hung a left en masse, papa and I with an eye’s right maneuver to catch the cataracts, Katie had not lifted her face.

I stopped at the doorway to “my” bedroom. I didn’t know if I should continue with them to “their” bedroom, or, if I’d be an intrusion at this sensitive juncture.

Henri released Katie and she disappeared thru the door jamb. He then paused and looked back for me. “Cully, please, an invitation is not necessary and would be an insult if proffered. My son. ” He opened both arms and I immediately took Girl’s place.

This man’s chest still warm from where her face rested seconds earlier.

“Ah, my only son. He is such an honorable man. His heart, the greatest heart. Mon Cully-Boy, ainsi. “

Chapter 39.

“I’ll need about an hour to myself, papa, Cully. Please. I’d like to take a hot shower and sort of unwind. Would that be okay, papa?” She was speaking to us, but, staring down onto the cataracts.

“Oui, bébé, quelle que soit notre Katie-Girl confortable. repas, Cully?” Henri.

“My goodness, yes. ” Me. Not quite as suave as my predecessor.

“Papa, do you have some candles we can light?”

“Repas, mon petit doe. Je vais les collecter et les laisser ici sur la commode. Avec une gâche et snuffer. Vous pouvez ensuite organiser à votre assimiler. repas, angel?”

“Thank you, so much, papa.

You too, Cully. I’ll see you both in a little while. Merci. “

Girl had never turned from the window. Henri gave me the signal to follow him and we swiftly and quietly retreated to the hallway, papa breaking precedent and softly closing the bedroom door behind us.

“Come, Cully, to the other bedroom. ” In a barely audible whisper. I was grateful Henri had not designated it as “your” bedroom.

Bless his heart.

“Cully, if you’d be so kind I am almost positive there is a box of such candles and lighters in that top left dresser drawer there. I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. “

Upon return Henri was pleased as punch that I’d located the candle stash.

“Dieu merci! They were there! Can you hear the shower, Cully? Your hearing is not as aged as my own.

” He reached and pinched my cheek. Hard. His smile wide and wonderful.

I pricked up my ears and caught the rendering. “Qui, papa her shower is running. “

“Standing exceptionnel! Now, my favorite-and-only son you take this box in there, set it down on the dresser, then close the door behind you and meet your papa in the spa room at once. We’ll shower, scrub, shave, plunge the ice and have a soak.

Our endless night goes on!”

Resisting the strong need to laugh I made a motion to obey. He firmly clutched my free arm. “Quietly, Cully, veryyyyyyyyyy tranquillement. ” Papa’s eyes on fire.

I bit my fist to stifle my laughter. We entered the corridor side-by-side. I column right, papa column left.

Chapter 40.

The shower, cold plunge and back scrub refreshed me. Clean shaven we’d just eased down in the warm water of the hot tube when the door opened and Barnaby came forth pushing the steel cart once again.

“Good morning, monsieur Reid. And a very good morning to you as well, Mr. Cully. ” True, night had come to morning. I waved.

“Oh, thank you, Barnaby, we are famished. And you have accomplished the other tasks?”

Barnaby popped the cork on a bottle of wine and poured forth two flutes.

“Oh, qui, monsieur. The mademoiselle, she was otherwise engaged in the bathroom so I quickly left the contents of your directive.

It is done, monsieur. “

“En suspens, Barnaby! You have been a miracle worker this night turned to morning. “

“Will that be all, monsieur?” He placed the now opened wine bottle in the ice bucket atop the cart.

“Indeed. You may turn in. “

“Monsieur, Mr. Cully. ” Barnaby bowed slightly and departed.

“Cully, will you do papa the consideration and prepare him a portion of caviar?”

“Qui, papa.

” I hustled out of the warm water and into the cool air. “I God’s, papa, it is cold. I’ve never had caviar. Is it good?”

“Oh, c’est délicieux, mon fils. ” That had to mean delicious.

And it was truly delectable. The champagne set it off splendidly. This vintage yet another a step up from the one we’d shared the night before at dinner. That dinner now seemed like ages ago.

The food and wine settled me quickly and brought me back quite nicely. There were even some French pastries for dessert. And absolutely scrumptious, though I limited myself severely.

I’d wisely brought the ice bucket containing the bottle of champagne along with our plates. I’d deftly made the foray without spilling a single drop, or, crumb. My comfort level had increased greatly. I did. I felt to home now.

“We will toast my son-before we act in pursuit-our endless night.

” Henri topped our flutes, turned the bottle over and head first set it in ice. It had not been drained, but, I knew with certitude by the time we returned to the spa it would be flat and thus ruined.

“To the most precious doe, our Girl. ” Henri hesitated, as if in contemplation of her, himself and perhaps me. Then, his voice faltered to just a coarse whisper…”To her grace and her light, that is so brilliant it illuminates two countries.

Katie-Girl. ” Girl’s paramour.

“Katie-Girl. ” Her husband.

We touched glasses and I drained my flute at once. The alcohol had taken affect quickly. I’d relaxed and it felt good. The edge was dulled.

Chapter 41.

I returned to “my” bedroom, brushed my teeth, donned fresh underwear and a pair of pajama bottoms, thank goodness they were a light powder blue and not some weird print.

Henri said he would meet me in front of “the” bedroom door in 10 minutes. I had a feeling he was up to something.

I posed in front of the dresser mirror. I didn’t look bad. In fact, I looked pretty darn good. I had a natural definition to my body as a whole and my upper musculature in particular. I’d never really worked out as such. I just kept myself in proper shape and until this vacation had quit sugar a number of years prior.

I splashed on some British Sterling (Girl’s favorite) to finish the preparation. As I waited I kept watch on the cataracts. The view never grew old.

“Cully, you are ready?” Even though Henri had spoken in whispers I was startled nonetheless.

Henri had donned another of his silk robes.

“Qui, papa. “

“Ah, yes, my son is a most beautiful and fit specimen. Come Cully, let us venture forth as the pitch flees before us.

There was no answer to papa’s soft rap upon the bedroom door. We cautiously entered. Katie had left the bathroom at some point. Most definitely so. The room was adorned in lit candles. She must have lit every candle in that box. Her efforts made for an incredible setting.

“My goodness, papa. ” I was amazed.

“Qui, Cully, I am in agreement. “

“Papa. ” I motioned toward the closed door.

“She’s still in there. I hear the sink running. “

“Merveilleux. We’ve time to prepare the champagne. ” An exact duplicate of the cart that Barnaby had wheeled into the spa rested in the corner here. Champagne, more caviar, pastries, even some fresh fruit was laid out quite nicely. My mouth watered.

“Cully, watch papa. You will be responsible for the very next bottle. Qui, my son? Pas nécessaire, Cully, our little doe has popped her cork.

” He held the breached bottle against the illumination provided by a half dozen lit candles. “Sacre Bleu! Over half the bottle has been consumed, my son. ” I stifled my own giggle at Henri’s use of the term “Sacre Bleu. “

“Uh, oh. ” Me.

“En effet. ” Papa.

I freighted the following with distinct dramatization. “Papa, what should we do?”

“Come my son, let us repair to God’s creation as we await the appearance of His finest.

Chapter 42.

It could have been my preemptively inebriated state, but, I am certain neither papa nor myself heard that door open. Girl just appeared behind us in reflection off the floor to ceiling glass. The cataracts retreated at light speed toward the sovereign. Like a ghost she was covered in pure white.

“Merci, papa, il est tellement belle, n’est-ce pas?” We turned in unison from her reflection.

The mirror image implored me to shift my sight to the still shut bathroom door. I closed my eyes, straining to confirm the running faucet–Still–or, bl**d cascading to my heart in torrents.

“C’est la perfection à l’état pur. Créé pour cette nuit. Mon précieux enfant. ” Henri’s voice with a transcendental lace to it.

I finally opened my eyes. “Their” bedroom in a near imperceptible spin. She locked her eyes with mine on-the-spot.

The application of the black now even more intense making her eyes unimaginable. ‘Please. ‘ I silently pled.

“Mon Cully-Boy , mon petit Cully-Boy. Vous avez été le plus adorable petit garçon. So perfect. So adorable. “

“Girl, I never knew. ” My voice at near silent whisper, but, she’d heard and went so quickly my heart fluttered.

“I’ve always known. I keep our pictures here. ” Her voice with sharp clarity-the candlelight over her a raging infernal.

She covered her heart with the flat of her hand.

“Katie. ” I pleaded.

“Sssshhhh, Cully-Boy. There are so many tomorrows. Qui. ” It was not a query, but, a statement of fact, a reconfirmation of the walk and the vow. I prayed with all my might that it be so.

“Papa. ” She’d come for him.

“Mon plus précieux enfant. Ma…”

She’d gone quickly again, cut-him-off.

“Prenez-moi, Papa, je suis à toi ce soir. Me prendre maintenant, papa. Je vous en prie!”

Henri obeyed her dictate-came for her-and took her.

Chapter 43.

I grabbed the bottle, a seat and a solid drag out of the former. I backed it. I-needed-it.

They came together like two ships colliding in the night. One a sleek schooner, a ghost ship laden with pure white sails.

The other? A PT boat with twin Cadillac engines displaced at 455 cubic inch-each. Straight out of Detroit.

She tore off his robe. I heard the silk rip. ‘Sacre Bleu!’

He nimbly and swiftly unbuttoned (what must have been a dozen tiny buttons) the bodice of this French gown which I swear had not made the trip from either Nebraska, nor Ohio, and laid bare Girl’s adorably small breasts.

Together the majestic gown was pushed down to just barely above, or perhaps just barely below where God had struck and created his miraculous divide.

Henri’s breath coming in great gasps, he, in a startlingly display of restraint ruled by innate discipline calmed himself and began to nurse at Girl’s diminutive nipples, his large hands capturing her small, delicate ones and locking them behind her back.

“Repas, papa, il y a, papa. Qui. I’ve waited all night, papa. J’ai attendu pour vous. I thought you’d never come for me. ” Her voice amoeba-like. One moment a directed woman.

The very next an innocent school girl. “”Over half the bottle has been consumed, my son. “” Made a return appearance in my mind’s eye.

His grunts as he fed were deep and filled with unleashed desire and uncharted power. The flames of countless candles lit the room and filled it with heat.

He held her hands with just one of his and tried to f***e the gown past Girl’s hips with his free hand.

The gown made it a few more inches according to crevice exposed then stopped dead in it’s tracks. He pushed again and seams protested, strongly.

“Papa, no. Aucun!” She broke free of his hand lock and pushed his hands away and from the gown. “Vous vous ruiner. Permettez-moi, papa, laissez votre peu doe. Bientôt, papa, très prochainement. Prochainement, papa. Qui, papa?” Girl’s voice with a hard edge. Either she was d***k, or, busting our balls.

She’d been a terrible ball buster during our high school years. Breathtakingly beautiful. She about drove me crazy.

Henri’s innate sense of restraint and discipline were being put to the test. His mouth hung open. His eyes glazed over. She reached between his legs, gathered in his sack and squeezed. Hard. “J’ai dit repas, papa?” He never moved a muscle. Just stared her down.

“Vous êtes un mauvais, un méchant petite fille, Katie.

“I do not want you to ruin my French gown. ” Slow and extremely deliberate. She released his ball sack and tapped the tip of Henri’s nose. Hard.

“Qui, mademoiselle. ” He, in surrender.

“Merci, monsieur. ” She, in triumph.

“Wha, what should I do, Girl?” I’d not seen Henri snared to this point. He’d now been snared. ‘Sacre Bleu!’

“I want you to control yourself.

I will remove the ancestral French gown you’ve bestowed on me, and…. ” She interrupted herself. “It is mine to keep is it not, papa?” Oh, she was busting balls and poor Henri had no idea to what she was capable when this curtain was raised. I took another slug from the bottle. There was not much left.

“Absolument, Katie-Girl , c’est le vôtre à conserver. Je vous le jure.

” His pleading tone a new thing.

“Merci, Henri. ” There was a hint of chill to her annunciation of his name. To compound that she actually had the wherewithal and temerity to execute a brief curtsey, still bare breasted. This was better than TV. By a long shot.

“Je suis désolé, Katie. ” He sounded sorry.

“I know you’re sorry, Henri. ” ‘See?’ “Just go and sit in the other chair there and wait….

patiently while I remove my French gown. ” He backed away from her and dropped into the seat a yard to my left. I took mercy and kept my eyes on Girl.

Chapter 44.

She considered Henri for quite a while, hands on hips, bare breasted, the candle light roaring behind her.

All she had to do was glance 3 feet left, but, it was like I wasn’t even there.

And this time, unlike last time I received no argument.

I could hear Henri breathing heavily, in rasps. He couldn’t seem catch his breath. I offered up a quickie prayer that he wouldn’t have a coronary. Having to explain the circumstances to RMCP would be most unpleasant.

“Let us proceed…” Girl’s sharp tone startled us both as we jumped in tandem. She swiftly and gracefully (the alcohol had impacted her attitude, but, certainly not her motor skills) pirouetted 180% keeping her hands on her hips.

The flames of the candles threatened to extinguish, then caught again and roared their vengeance. The crevice that God had created was displayed gloriously via that vengeance.

“There is a hidden clasp, Henri, and there is a hidden zipper, Henri, that permits this particular French gown to be removed safely. This is the only way to remove this French gown when it is worn by a woman with a perfect figure. Obviously it was made for me.

Ai-je bien compris, monsieur?”

“Qui, mademoiselle. ” He glanced at me, then leaned in toward Girl and lowered his voice before speaking. “Je suis désolé. “

“Qui, I forgive you, Henri. Pour me a glass of champagne, from a fresh bottle. Hurry. I have quite a thirst. “

He leaned toward me and tried to whisper, but, his voice held a high pitch now. “Cully, there are some unopened chilled bottles in the bottom compartment of the ca…”

“Not Cully, Henri.

I said (you). Hurry, Henri. ” She’d not turned.

Henri hopped to. I just kept my eyes on that crevice. I wanted to see it’s entire length. I’d seen it, but, that was a lifetime ago.

The cork popped and Henri poured forth. When he tried to deliver the flute he was forbidden.

“Non, pas vous, Henri. Je veux Cully pour livrer à moi. ” Henri handed me the flute and cast his eyes to the floor.

“Cully, bring me my champagne. ” Now I was getting the treatment. ‘Damn her!’ I obeyed though. Walked around so I ended up facing her. Her breasts in the fierce candlelight were magnificent. I offered the flute to her. She took it as our eyes met. She winked not once, but, twice. I suppressed my surprise then my snort. “You may be seated again, Cully. ” As I walked away she pursed her lips at me, just once.

I wanted to blow the whistle, but, it was harmless fun and if I knew Henri as I thought I knew him, he’d celebrate with us when the truth finally was revealed. Or, so I damn well hoped he would. I’d hate to end back up on Clifton Hill with my fellow riff raff.

“Tel un délicieux vintage, Henri. “

“Merci, Katie-Girl. ” He was trying to regain his footing.

Searching for hope. I’d been there with this girl, many-a-time. She’d tease the boys in school, then run to me when they’d respond. Didn’t matter if it we were in grade school, junior high, or, high school. “I want only you, Cully………But, I like boys. ” If I heard that qualifier once, I heard it a 100 times. She needed a good spanking then, and now.

“Henri. ” I sneaked a peek at Henri in my peripherals He was slack-jawed staring at that promise of a crevice.

“Henri, are you still there? Answer me. ” She was really getting into it. I was frankly amazed. Had to be the champagne. Had-to-be.

“Qui, Katie-Girl, I am here. Yes. “

“Do you suppose………if I show you where the secret clasp is and where the secret zipper is, you, by yourself could remove my French gown without ruining it? Is that a real possibility, Henri?” Ah, the end game.

Thank goodness.

“Repas, Katie-Girl , je suis positif J’ai pu le faire. “

“Fine, come to Girl, Henri. ” Had her brat on for the kill.

“Henri, jumped out of his seat, his once long and distinguished hard on, now reduced to Vienna Sausage length and circumference. I fervently hoped this was indeed coming to an end and not a false positive. She’d had her fun. We all had.

‘Soon, Katie!’ I silently beseeched her.

He took my place in front of her. She’d turned her head as soon as he arrived. To the right and was watching herself, preening in the same mirror I’d watched them thru. She took a long draft on that flute, then drained it and tossed it onto the bed with her left hand without taking her eyes from the mirror. ‘Christ, Katie. ‘

“Ici.

Et ici. ” She referenced something along her left hip. He almost leapt forward.

“Doucement, monsieur. Gently. ” She lightly scolded him via that damn mirror.

“Qui, Katie-Girl. Je vous le promets. ” Once briefed as to the secrets Henri accomplished the task swiftly.

“C’est fait, Katie-Girl. ” The crevice exposure lengthened just the slightest as the grip released a small measure.

“Faire de moi nue Henri.

” ‘Nude?’ I scooted up in my chair.

He worked diligently and ever so carefully to abide her dictate. “Oh-my-God. ” I spoke aloud at the sight.

“Place it upon the chair-return to me. Comprendre, Henri? ‘Too mean. ‘

“Yes, qui, I understand. “

“Go. ” Indeed, a thorough spanking.

When he returned she forsake the mirror and initiated just the slightest undulation of her bottom as she studied him.

Barely a movement, but, activity there in the region. 15 seconds passed. Then 30. Then a minute. The movement of her hips increased. I almost attacked her, and took what was legally mine, but, fought the instinct and eased back down into my seat.

“Girl!” I hissed at her form. Her response? An increase to the tempo of the movement.

My response? I exposed myself.

His response? Henri had recovered and splendidly so.

He was once again long, thick and exceedingly stiff. She turned her head slightly once again toward “our” mirror. Her eyes though, lined severely in the black were closed. She raised her hands above her head and clasped them together in prayer fashion. Her movement now driven close to wild and pronounced, on the very edge. She was dancing, performing to some damn song running thru her head only she could hear. 30 seconds passed.

Then 60 seconds. The movement was now frenetic, barely controlled mania. He’d begun to vibrate, or, I had and “their” bedroom was shaking.

“Please, Girl. ” I publicly implored her. She heard and she acknowledged me, or, more probably, us both.

“Prochainement. ” A faint rumor of giggle from papa’s little doe? Or, I was hallucinating.

Her dance of the macabre crested and the fall began.

Slowly, ever so slowly her movement decreased and finally came to a stillness that was as much a f***e as the anarchy had been. Her body shined with a thin sheet of dew caused by the maniacal activity and the heat of the still burning candles.

Somehow she looked down upon Henri, though shorter than him and kissed each of his cheeks in turn.

“Papa?” Oh, thank Christ, she returned to him, and me by proxy.

“Qui?” He pled, his voice failing to an anguish cry.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, papa. I love only you, papa…” Her shoulders locked. “And that adorable boy behind me. More than life, papa. ” The lyrical lilt had taken possession once more. She about drove me crazy. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and d****d myself with one of the bar towels off Barnaby’s cart.

“Mon petit doe? Mon plus précieux enfant?” She’d miraculously returned to him. And he was in disbelief. I’d been there as well. Papa needed somebody to pinch him. Hard.

“Repas, papa, Je t’aime tellement. Aimez-vous votre petite fille? Votre petit Katie-Girl?”

“Plus de la vie. ” Him.

Her gasp defined. “Prenez votre précieux enfant au lit maintenant, papa ……… et ne jamais me permettre de quitter.

Chapter 45.

Papa tipped Girl into the cradle of his arms and made the short trek to the far side of “their” bed. She’d crossed her wrists around his neck and was busily whispering into his ear God knows what. In yet another fete of brute strength Henri held her in his right arm while with his left hand he pushed the flute Girl had dropped out of the way then turned down the bed covers.

She’d never stopped whispering. Just clung to his neck. He tried to set her down then. Girl forbade it.

“Non, papa! Tenez-moi dans vos bras encore. ”

Then right back to the whispering.

Henri obliged her. “Bébé fille, comme vous le souhaitez. “

Thirty seconds passed. She fell silent, then buried her right cheek into his abundant chest hair and closed her eyes.

“I am now yours, papa………take me to bed.

” Plain-spoken-English…for both of us? My stomach instantly knotted as I quickly realized I was the only other one in “their” bedroom who communicated in “Plain-spoken-English. “

Henri set her down between the white sheets. Before releasing her hold around his neck she playfully kissed the tip of his nose. And giggled.

I reached for the bottle and granted myself a long draft. The caviar left in my stomach protested, vehemently.

I drowned that protest at once.

Near half of the candles had either burned down to nothing, or, been blown out by the energy of my wife and her lover. Their side of the bed was now in light shadows. He pushed the blankets off and arranged the top sheet and his countenance to d**** their nudity.

Like I was there and he, or, they didn’t want me to see, no, to observatrice.

I inaudibly groaned, or, so I hoped it was inaudible. They took no notice. He rested on his elbows above Katie. His chest hair mingling with her tiny breasts and tips. The back of her head was nestled into her feather pillow, her smile to him coquettish. They’d settled in. Their breathing regulated, a calm had settled over “their” bedroom. I removed the bar towel and came to the instant realization that somehow papa had switched out his Vienna Sausage.

“Êtes-vous en colère contre moi, papa?” Her whisper from the shadows.

“Jamais. ” Him.

“Je suis désolé, je vous taquine, papa. Je vais le faire jusqu’à maintenant. Je vous le promets. Cross my heart. “

“Une telle belle enfant. ” Him.

“Beautiful only for you, papa, for you alone……and for my little Cully-Boy. ” Her whisper thru the shadows. The knot loosened.

“Vous m’aimez. repas, papa?”

“Pour toujours. “

“Qui, papa, forever. “

Chapter 46.

They prepared for intercourse. Together they pushed the sheet down past Henri’s buttocks. He separated Girl’s legs and she raised her knees.

“Puis mon butt, repas, papa?” Her. A giggle for effect. ‘butt!’ In all the chicanery I’d forgotten about my request on Girl’s behalf and papa’s grant of same.

My Vienna Sausage was fast becoming a natural casing Sugardale wiener.

“Repas, je le jure, belle enfant. Je dois vous êtes le premier. Je dois, jeune fille. ” Him.

“Ne pas se précipiter, papa. Nous avons la nuit et le jour. “

“Girl. ” Papa twitched his buttocks and lodged himself inside my wife.

“Plus, papa. ” Bright and brilliant–easily pierced the shadows.

Papa instantly obeyed his most cherished c***d-flexed his buttocks once more.

“Plus, papa, plus. ” Her cry, so young, so joyous. Girl spread wider-knees rising higher.

“Mon bébé fille. ” Papa doted on his most precious c***d.

“Qui, papa, I am your only baby girl. ” Girl spread a portion more, her knees cresting at the summit.

He locked up, raised up and placed the flat of each hand behind each knee. “Mai je enfant?”

“Timshel, papa.

I will not break. I am a strong girl, papa. ” Yes, I’d been forbidden.

And Girl was true to her guarantee. And it was papa’s turn and pleasure to whisper where Girl’s knees and ears met.

It was a magnificent sight. The pale brilliance of their white and pink flesh. The youthful vigor stretched to a fine limit and the rank maturity of male power so consummate I was at once awestruck.

He moved with a fluidity of one much younger. I could not compare, no. I worked in jerks and spasms, end commanding means. Always. Papa did not, he was in total command of himself and my wife.

“My butt, papa, then my butt?” Her voice the embodiment of girlish feminine mystique.

“Repas, mon enfant. Bientôt, bebe. ” Like a locomotive Henri pounded Girl’s quiver. A snap to his hips, hard and precise.

Her squeals deep, beneath her words of love, inquisitiveness and encouragement. Papa’s sack, heavy, bloated with content of life and sustenance covered a generous portion of Girl’s crevice, hid from me the intended goal, the target of her, no, of our request.

“Pas pressé, papa. Toute la nuit, mon amour. ” Girl brushed the hair from his forehead and tilted the basin of her body to his advantage.

A near imperceptible miss by a piston in papa’s engine chamber caused Girl to rake the edge of her nails (all 10) across Henri’s hirsute chest.

Hard.

“Rouspéter!” Henri barked at her.

“Qui, I am your bitch, papa. Only yours. ” She manipulated once more. Her laughter rich and black as the night.

“Prochainement, papa!” Papa’s sack contracted, exposing Girl’s bud. It’s virginity in imminent peril.

Papa found yet another gear and ignoring the failed piston executed it.

“Mon maître, mon seul maître. “

“Girl!” Papa hissed thru clenched teeth.

“I, I, I, Girllllllllllllllll. “

“Come in Katie-Girl, papa. Let it all come, papa. I want it all. ” She reached and slapped his left butt cheek with her right palm. Hard.

“Sacre bleu–à nouveau!” Girl slapped the same cheek once more. Harder.

“Vous êtes un diable femme, Katie-Girl. ” Henri froze. His sack twitched and sent it’s contents to the injector.

“Qui, monsieur, load Katie-Girl with your stuff, papa.

” A giggle from Hell as she took the same 10 nail edges and raked them over Henri’s upraised buttocks. Deep and hard.

The Frenchman’s anguished scream of pain fed rapture pierced the earliest rumors of sunrise over the Canadian cataracts in the shadow of the sovereign.

Chapter 47.

Girl brought the sheet back over them as best she could while softly humming some untold song over him.

He’d lifted from her, carefully lowered her legs then resumed his exact position. His face was turned toward door.

“You’re awfully quiet over there. Are you okay, Cully-Boy?” Girl pointed at me for emphasis, her smile honest and warm.

“Definitely. ” I’d never felt better. They were beautiful together. It was the plain truth. And I enjoyed their intense coupling. I couldn’t explain why, but, to deny it would be utter futility and honestly, just silly.

“Papa is resting, Cully. I think his little girl is too much for him. ” Her soft voice causing Henri to stir.

“Qui. ” Henri gracefully extricated himself and then made sure Girl was thoroughly d****d before kissing her forehead. “Such a beautiful c***d. ” His voice so loving. He sat down on the edge of the bed and laced his hand with hers.

“Remember, papa I’m only beautiful for you and Cully.

Nobody else. I just love you two. You are my favorite men. We’ll you’re my favorite man. And Cully, he is my favorite boy. He’ll always be a boy to me, because that is how I best remember him. Yes, he is a man, but, he is just a boy to my heart. ” She waved to me. I returned the gesture. She was rambling a bit, but, nonetheless adorable. I loved listening to her prose.

“Thank, you, ever so much, Cully and Girl. You’ve both made me feel so special the past couple days. ” Henri was at once retrospective. A new thing.

“No, papa, don’t. It’s okay. You don’t have to thank us. We love you. Don’t we, Cully? C’mon, Cully, you come and sit with us in the bed. We’ll be together like a f****y. ” She patted the area to her right.

And motioned for me to get over there, pronto.

I too kissed Girl’s forehead upon arrival where Henri had just moments ago then took my assigned seat.

“Girl is right, papa. What has happened to us all is a miracle. We’ve quickly built a f****y. It is just amazing. We’re so fortunate, each of us. “

“My c***dren, you teach papa how it should be. You show the way.

And that is good. The young leading the old. There is nothing wrong with that way. Oh, contraire, it is a good way. The way of our f****y. You make papa feel young again. And you make him feel love again. Not only Girl, but, you as well, Cully. You are my c***dren, and I love you with my heart open. ” He laid his cheek upon Girl’s chest. Her eyes had crested with tears.

I reached and gently stroked his hair. I’d never felt so close to another man in my life. A miracle of sorts had indeed taken place here in Canada. Of that I had no doubt whatsoever.

Her voice that of a mature woman, the tears struck down: “One for all. “

Papa beat me to it by a split second: “All for one. ” The reverberation a new thing.

Chapter 48.

“If you two will excuse me I need to use the facilities for a just a few minutes. “

“It is permissible that I accompany you, mon cherie? I don’t want to be apart for even a moment. ” Henri’s vulnerable side was both refreshing and reassuring. I was not alone.

“Qui, papa. I’d like that. You can tell me if I’m using the bidet correctly. ” We all laughed at that remark.

“You would not mind, Girl?”

“Of course not, papa. I’d love for you to come with me. We can share everything, papa. And Cully won’t mind, will you, sweetheart?”

“Of course not. I’ll straighten up in here a little, pour us some champagne. And catch a ganders at the Falls. ” Though I did wonder why I had to turn around at the park restroom just hours prior. But, I had no ready answer so I dismissed the inconsistency at once.

“Thank, you, Cully. You are a fine and generous man. We’ll leave the door open though. Qui, Girl?”

“Qui, papa. First though if you’d be so kind as to select a pair of panties out of our dresser I’d so appreciate it. ” He and I nearly got up as one when I realized she was speaking to Henri and not to me. I settled back down unnoticed. Henri crossed to “their” dresser, chose a pair of white panties and brought them back.

He’d also chosen a pair of white boxers for himself from the same drawer. They seemed not to catch the significance, nor my notice of same. Just standard operating procedure. My stomach knot noticed though. Girl slipped the panties on beneath the sheet as Henri pulled his on in the open. Girl rose from the bed, demurely donned papa’s torn robe, then secured his hand and led him thru the door. “Now do I sit all the way back, or, just so the stream hits me, well you know where, papa.

” Her voice trailing to a whisper toward the sensitive end of her verbiage.

Girl couldn’t talk about certain sensitive topics in the open, but, she certainly could do it all in the open. I laughed a little bit at that reality and their discussing the finer points of bidet versus toilet protocol and etiquette in the bathroom.

I was hoping they wouldn’t forego Girl’s sacrifice of her anal virginity.

I’d ask upon their return if nothing was quickly forthcoming. Not to mention I needed to break my nut. I’d calmed down during our soul searching session, but, I’d rile again before too long. If need be I’d just excuse myself on the ruse of using “my” bathroom and quickly masturbate in there. At that point it would be medicinal in nature. It was almost to that point now. I quickly put the bed back together, and relit the candles that were still serviceable.

That way they’d be predisposed upon re-entering the room. I popped the cork on a fresh bottle of the bubbly as well. There were still two sealed bottles remaining in the chilled reserve area.

I was watching the cataracts when Girl emerged.

“Wow, Cully, thank you, it’s so cool with the candles lit. ” I turned to see Henri nestle in behind Girl wrapping her in his strong arms, bringing her back to his front.

Her squeals were delightful.

“Uh, oh. ” Girl.

He pushed his nose into her hair like I so enjoyed doing.

“Papa, it won’t hurt, will it?” I couldn’t imagine it not hurting. Though it hadn’t stopped me from asking her about million times since we’d married. Plus Henri was longer and thicker than myself.

“Papa will take good care of his little girl. ” His whispers deep and reassuring.

She knitted her fingers with his across her middle.

Girl turned her face and whispered back to Henri. “Prenez-moi au lit maintenant, papa, s’il vous plaît?”

“She wants me to take her to bed, husband. Such a naughty little girl, qui, Cully?” His chuckle true and kind.

“Indeed. ” Husband.

“Please, papa, I’ve waited so long. Aujourd’hui, papa, maintenant?” Girl’s ability to dash from c***d to girl to woman and back thru the gamut was mesmerizing and incredibly alluring.

Now as endless night turned to earliest morning she’d manipulated her voice inflection to a c***d much, much younger than her actual 26 years. She’d been nowhere near this “young” since the actual reality.

And I was giddy at the prospect of bearing witness as papa took this ageless wife of mine other virginity.

Papa was whispering softly into Girl’s right ear, in the French. But, much too softly for me to decipher his intent, though I’m certain it matched Girl’s to-the-letter.

She’d closed her eyes and rested the back of her head in the thick bed of dark curly hair Henri’s great barrel chest was blessed with. Mine? My chest was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. ‘Darn genes!’ My father had struck the template.

Henri began to gently rock Girl side-to-side in his mighty arms, his whispers increasing, his tone yet softer. I’d give good money to know the content of those whispers.

I’d have to learn French once we returned to the heartland, or, permit Henri to adopt us and Katie-Girl and I could sit in the backseat like in the old days when the families would caravan and she’d sit with me in the rear of my parent’s car. I silently chuckled at the memory. She’d scoot up behind my father’s driver seat and rub his shoulders while talking to my mother about any sundry subject matter a precocious 11-year-old girl could conjure.

Then when they weren’t watching Girl would turn her head and stick her tongue out at me.

Chapter 49.

“Maintenant, papa. Je veux que vous me l’intérieur. “

“Oui, maintenant. Tel un beau bébé papa ne peut pas rés****r. Venu enfant, venir avec papa et il va vivre en vous. “

“Qui, papa, exist inside me forever and ever. Je t’aime, papa. “

Once more, Henri carried Girl to “their” bed in his arms.

Once more, Henri held Girl securely in his left arm while stripping the bed with his right hand. My earnest efforts at bed making gone in yet another amazing display of extraordinary strength.

Girl immediately and deftly rolled onto her tummy and lifted her bottom into the Canadian air just a fraction, but, her intent to our papa, to us both was made clear.

Papa left her panties undisturbed but gently pushed his robe just above her shoulder blades exposing Girl’s entire back.

Henri drew open the nightstand drawer and brought forth from it a glass bottle, poured a portion of it’s contents into his left hand and set the bottle aside.

Effortlessly Henri applied the liquid with both hands to Katie’s back. In long strokes his application varied from firm to moderate to the lightest of pressure and touch. I’d once again taken station in “my” chair. I drained my flute and switched the empty with one of their untouched glasses.

Girl was facing me and had closed her eyes as soon as Henri had scooped her into his arms. She was hiding.

Again she raised her bottom into the air, a tiniest bit higher this time around. Henri kept contact with her back with his left hand, then with the palm of his opposite hand pressed Katie’s bottom back to the top sheet, applying the slightest of pats to Girl’s round, tight and proud derriere.

“Papa. ” Her most adorable whine.

“Shush, ma plus petite, papa sait mieux. ” He applied another soft swat to Katie’s butt.

“Qui, papa. ” A hint of sass and wiggle to her speech and freshly albeit lightly disciplined behind.

As with each and every vocation that I’d borne witness to, Henri was an accomplished masseur as well. He wasn’t just marking time until he could separate Girl from her panties and take her anal virginity.

No. He knew more than a little something of the****utic massage techniques. We’d received a book on the subject as a wedding present and I’d read it, cover-to-cover and had wanted to apply some of the same techniques to Katie-Girl, but, we’d never seemed to have found the time or occasion. Now the volume rested on the bookshelf and hadn’t been touched in some years.

Once more, it was like I wasn’t even there.

Never an aside, or, a glance for judgment, nor, assessment. Papa was with Girl and that-was-that. I’d learned quickly to appreciate the solitude I’d been assigned. I’d quickly discovered that it lent me a sense of comfort turned contentment. And I’d not been judged on a moment-by-moment, act-by-act protocol. There was a method to Henri’s wisdom. And I was most grateful.

Remaining in finger tip touch Henri secured the bottle of what seemed to be some kind of light, unscented oil and gracefully straddled Girl’s prone body.

He seemed to rest upon the twin cushions of her bottom but, that wasn’t altogether accurate. He maintained the slightest of separation from her body. Not a 100% of the time, but, he did not permit his full weight, or any appreciable amount of same to be supported by Katie.

“Merci, papa. Je ne peux pas croire à quel point bon je pense. ” Katie’s voice sounded transported.

“Rien n’est trop bon pour papa de la petite fille.

You are papa’s little girl, are you not, mon cherie?”

“Qui, papa. Toujours et pour toujours. ” Her.

“Pour toujours. ” Him.

Chapter 50.

Henri shifted to the head of the bed and cleared the remnants of his robe from Girl’s shoulders. Then proceeded to work those shoulders and neck muscles thoroughly.

“So good, papa. You’re so good to me. ” Her voice in near dream state now.

He carefully turned her face toward the door, then worked the opposite area briskly.

“Yes, papa, there, it was tight, so tight. Yes, papa. ” Henri pressed on and within a couple minutes Girl was sighing heavily. “So wonderful, papa. Qui. “

He then lifted independent of Girl from the bed, and moved to her feet.

“Husband?” His voice with a hint of jocularity. “Are our little girl’s feet sensitive or ticklish.

“No, papa, not at all. ” I was on automatic and ready for anything.

“Très bon. “

Katie with a faint giggle, barely audible. I think she was about to enter dreamland.

After Girl’s feet, papa began his return tour and the ultimate end. Now he slowed considerably, his strokes became deliberate, his pauses sustained. It was show time. I exchanged my spent round for the last full and ready chamber and settled in.

I would never be able to go back to “store bought” champagne again. I was ruined at 28.

Here he introduced Girl to the edges of his meticulously manicured and kept nails. She took immediate notice and once again raised her fanny into the air.

“Oui, bébé, papa est venue pour vous. ” He strummed the undersides of Girl’s knees down to her ankles and then back and forth again, and again, and again.

She tried to spread her legs, but, papa forbade it. “Papa will take you there, little one, but, it must be his way. Qui, my tiny angel?”

“Oui, papa, merci, mais, s’il vous plaît vous dépêcher, papa. Je veux qu’il soit. “

“Non. Il n’y a pas de précipitation. Vous devez autoriser papa de vous y emmener à sa façon, à sa vitesse. repas, mademoiselle?”

“But, papa, I am s…”

“Shush, Katie-Girl.

” He cut her off. His tenor held command stature. “Prochainement, little one. “

Then from the back of her knees to the insides of her upper thighs. He bent, his breath preceding the nails again, and again and again. A light spank as her fanny lifted and held.

“Naughty. little. Katie-Girrrrrrrrrrlllllll. ” His breath directed at her remaining virginity, the slip of white cotton filtering the moist air.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, God, yes. Just-like-that. God, God, God, please. ” Her voice strong, the wrestle for command commenced. The panty plate collapsed as Girl struggled to draw his breath with her body to cause more effect.

The edge of Henri’s right index finger nail began at the center between the dimples and ran a precise rivulet pressing the panty almost to a place where the twin guardians could capture and hold it.

He closely followed that single digit with breath as any hope of holding forth cotton was lost at once. The white cotton fluttered every so slightly and then rested in freedom.

Katie raised her bottom another measure and again held. And papa as was his protocol rewarded her with another spank, this one with more f***e than any so far.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh. Yessssssssssssssssssss. ” Katie tried to move her right hand down, but, papa forbade it.

“No! Papa will relieve you at his discretion and in his time. Bien entendu?” His voice with the first tinge of anger since we’d met at Tussauds. I was intrigued.

“Qui, papa. ” Immediate contrition.

“Tout est pardonné, mon petit doe. ” He bent and blew directly into the hole, again the panty shielding only a portion of the wave of hot male breath.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, papaaaaaaaaaa. ” He finally held forth, his lips sealing for the moment as her fanny arced above the mattress and held fast. Instead of the expected spank as reward, he cited her this time with another blast of moist air he’d taken in during the interim. He followed that reward with a light saturation and licking of the protecting white cotton panty.

“Gggggrrrrr, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, ggggrrrrrrr.

Ohhhhhhhhhh, yessssssssss. ”

‘Absolutely incredible. ‘

Chapter 51.

Henri’s spittle dampened the white cotton as the guardians made another bid to capture the cotton twixt them. Only moderately successful Henri took back the partial victory as he blew dried the damp cotton and it fluttered free once again.

“God, God, God, God, God, God, please God, please God, please God. Cuuuullly. ” She beseeched God and boy.

I wouldn’t intervene for money, marbles nor chalk. This wasn’t the Chambers of Horrors wing at Tussauds, or, the 4-5 headed small a****l skeletal exhibit at Niagara Falls Museum, but, it was a close third.

Henri’s deep, masterful mocking chuckle drove Girl over the edge. ‘She feels deprived and put upon, Cully. Good. ‘

And she reacted…jerked her face around and attempted to bite papa-no-just nip him. Her eyes had glazed over.

She was crazed. “Gggrrrrr. ” She made another attempt to draw his bl**d.

Papa swatted her upraised fanny with the palm of his right hand. Not too hard. “Bad girl!” He hit her again, and again. Love taps. Amazingly Girl yelped in response, turned on him again and came this||close to sinking her bared white teeth into the heel of papa’s left hand. In fact I think she perhaps grazed him as he pulled his hand back just in the nick-of-time.

This time Henri was silent. He let the palm of his hand do his talking and struck Girl a half dozen times, equally dividing the strikes between her twin pink buns. He’d not turned up the heat though. I playfully swatted her like that on a regular basis around the house. He immediately bent to his task and blew in her hole again. The white cotton once again acting as filter. This treatment seemed to be her favorite and she calmed at once.

Just a near silent chant of some kind I couldn’t make out.

One thing for certain, she’d not bargained for this, I guarantee you. No way. And neither had I.

Henri was playing Girl like a Stradivarius. And we were all, Katie-Girl included enjoying the game and it’s maestro. Of that there was no doubt.

With only his thumbs and index fingers papa pulled Girl’s panties down to just below where he was going to be doing his business.

“Oh, papa!” She squealed and buried her face in her pillow.

Henri joined his thumbs at the tips, centered them between the dimples and started back down, slowly, inch-by-inch parting Girl’s buns as he went until he came upon it. He then bent once more and blew against it.

“Qui, papa, like that. Again, papa, again. ” Girl pled.

He held her apart where he’d spread her on the prior pass then with the sharp edge of his tongue started again from the dimples and only stopped when he came to it.

Then buried his tongue.

“Oh, papa, nooooooooooooo. Cully can see, papa. Noooooooooooooooo. “

She quickly changed her tune though as Henri would not be denied. “It feels so wonderful, papa. Don’t stop, please. More, papa, more. ” Papa did not deny his most precious c***d. Instead, he fed upon her.

I’d attempted something quite similar once back home after cunnilingus. Girl’s response? I think she tried to hit me.

Very hard.

For a number of minutes Henri alternated tenderly breathing into Girl’s hole and thoroughly licking it.

And Girl was in her glory with this process and protocol. Just her soft mewling and muted giggles could be heard in “their” bedroom as she gently thrashed her head about her pillow, her bottom held high, granting papa easy access to her last untouched charm.

Chapter 52.

“Katie, papa vous aideront à obtenir dans une position plus confortable.

Il est temps, bébé fille. “

“Qui, papa, I want you, papa. I want you in my butt. I am ready. Aide-moi, papa. Je suis le vôtre. “

Utilizing his great strength and dexterity Henri assisted, no, Henri alone accomplished situating Girl into the most advantageous position for anal intercourse. He drew her knees together then removed her panties and set them aside at the corner of the bed closest to me.

It was all I could not to reach out, snatch them up and swallow them whole. He then shifted her knees all the way under her chest. He then softly whispered something to her in French then carefully removed her pillow and placed it over her panties, removing temptation once and for all. She turned her face to my side-spotted me-furrowed her brow-then turned back the other way. ‘Brat. ‘

Finally, papa, with the flat of both hands lifted Girl by the upper thighs and lower bottom cheeks and nudged her forward, her head sliding just a few inches along the top sheet.

This had the distinct affect of raising her bottom majestically and providing an easier niche from which to take her virginity. Katie’s hole had heavily dilated from the intense licking papa had brought to bear. Her nest was also now on full display. He’d not paid this charm any attention whatsoever. And yet it was swollen. No, just puffy and showed definite signs of moisture.

He then returned to the tried and true protocol of blowing on and licking Katie’s bottom hole.

Girl egged him on once again. Then praised him and his efforts once again. He spoke not, just consumed her. He then began a campaign of sniffing her there and lower as well. He didn’t lick her nest. No, sniffed it, then tracked higher and sniffed there again and again shifting his nose up and down. Once back in Nebraska I was going to sniff and lick and sniff Girl exactly like this. Or, get hit very hard and/or die trying.

And that was just the way it was going to be. Yeah.

Henri then took his middle finger, gave the bird (I’m confident inadvertently) to a gorgeous oil painting of Charles de Gaulle hanging on the wall over their bed, then placed that finger into his mouth and let it soak while with his left hand he initiated a patting regimen on one of Girl’s buns, then switched to the other. Just light pats that Katie seemed to absolutely adore as she began slowly wiggling her bottom in response.

After a lengthy marinade and patting sessions Henri took the moist digit and placed it at Katie-Girl’s bottom opening.

“Une respiration profonde maintenant, Sweetheart. “

Girl stopped wiggling her bottom and inhaled deeply. “Maintenez-le. ” Papa’s entire middle finger slid easily up Katie’s rectum and held fast there.

“Maintenant, laissez-le, angel. ” Girl exhaled and recommenced the gentle swaying of her fanny.

“Oh, papa, il est si méchant.

Vous êtes dans mon butt. ”

“Papa aime sa petite fille tellement. ” He began to ever so slowly move his finger just an inch or two back and forth inside her.

“I adore you, papa. Vous êtes mon préféré. ” Henri’s movement of his middle digit accelerated a measure.

“Plus rapide! Plus profond! Plus! Papa!” The swaying of Katie’s rear end increased. Dramatically.

“Oui, mon bébé, mon petit doe aime avoir son fanny rempli. Déplacer, bébé, déplacez votre derriere vers l’avant et vers l’arrière. “

“Qui, papa. ” Papa’s hand movement ceased. Girl obeyed papa’s dictate. She began to slide back and forth upon his finger.

“Plus vite, bébé. Plus rapide, angel. Plus rapide, Katie-Girl!”

As Girl’s hips moved at a steady gait papa crouched a bit, identified his target and with his left hand just barely grazed Katie’s clitoral hood with the very tips of his fingers.

.


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