A Summer in Olympia Ch. 07

We lay together on the bed afterward, sweating in the August heat. She had brought her bags to my rooms dressed as a butler, changed and slipped out in her dress, and would leave in the morning as a man once again. She kissed my ear and murmured: "Monty's work is truly excrement, is it not? I see no enthusiasm in the cast or crew. You seem to be doing a good job, but the music doesn't satisfy. Am I right?"

"I hardly know what to say. Sir Charles has been good to me, and I wish to serve him as I agreed."

"You are safe, I shan't repeat this to anyone."

I lay there looking up at the ceiling. "You are right: it's dreadful. Only his money is getting this done."

"Like England, although money wasn't good enough even there. Ah well, at least he's happy and thinks he's doing great things. It's not easy being a younger son in a noble family."

"It's not easy being a son anywhere."

We listened to the sounds of the night for a while until she began again: "You have talent, I can tell. You will have a career in music when your present troubles are past. I will remember when I hear your name and be proud to have been your intimate."

I was awakened to her tender lips on my body, and responded to her as before. She would not let me stir from my back, devoting all her efforts to my gratification, and staying with her task until I produced the potion of bliss she drank down completely. I moved to reward her, but she pushed me away, rising and preparing for her departure. She dressed in her butler's attire and saw to my day's preparations before fetching my breakfast and leaving before the day had fully begun.

My homecoming to Olympia that every was particularly festive, even Lady Alice seemed in a good mood. Sir Charles played the part of the grand host to the hilt, giving me an oration worthy of a Roman Triumph. After tea, we went to his study, and I carefully updated him on the progress of the production: "We had to replace Andromeda, silly girl ran off with a vaudeville player without a word. Cassiopeia came down with tuberculosis, and has to spend the next few months in a sanitarium. The King of Ethiopia has taken to drink again, and was last seen in a saloon in East St. Louis. However, all these roles have been replaced by adequate, responsible and diligent performers that I'm sure will play their parts well: the Show must go on!"

"Alas, I feared as much in this rough constituency, this outskirt of culture," he said, shaking his head.. "Andromeda lost, when she was so perfect! This woman could have been catapulted to fame on this role alone, had any beau of nobility and industry seeking her hand in marriage or the chance of a career that would have lead to the constellations themselves. What are young people coming to these days, what are they coming to? And what will be our future when they rule the world?" He paced and gesticulated wildly until he calmed down. "You are bearing well with all these tragedies, Mr. MacLeod; I have entrusted the right man with these labors. And Herr Ernst, is he in good health and spirits? Without him, we are surely doomed."

"He is well and sends his regards."

"Excellent. We must be ready for the next stage, once this work plays. There will be demand for a sequel: I absolutely refuse to countenance such a travesty and will not entertain such a notion. The next work must be different in nature, a comedy most assuredly. Perhaps _The Frogs_ will provide such a vehicle: our talented Miss Penny has immersed herself in constructing a libretto and I should like you to look at it when she has made sufficient progress. Poor girl is insecure and tentative, but I have encouraged her and she is responding well. Perhaps next weekend she will have something to show you."

My imagination had him forcing her to sit naked in the lake with the frogs in an attempt to absorb the proper atmosphere for the work, and stifled a laugh. At least, I was sure he had brought up the idea to the poor girl.

That evening I stayed outside in the garden, savoring the clean air and open space after a week of confinement in the city. Olympia was a beautiful place and I found its charms seducing me. There were lights in the servant's wing: the sounds of laughter testified Mrs. Edwards and the younger staff were amusing themselves with a game of cards. The open window of the study above communicated the clatter of billiard balls, Sir Charles' robust laughter, and a challenge from Maurice in Greek. The side door of the great house opened, and a person with a lantern emerged: Lady Alice on her way to the barn. Staying behind a bush, I was undetected as she passed, and my mind envisioned what new ordeal she would enjoy with her young lovers.

My efforts with Maurice the night before had not exhausted my carnal interest, and I hastened back to my quarters to find Pearl and Opal waiting for me. "Let's go outside," I suggested.

"No," Opal said.

"Wait, where's everyone else?" Pearl asked.

"All are accounted for and none will be in the garden this evening. If our frolics are not intensely vocal, we will surely be undiscovered."

They thought for a moment, and Opal asked: "Do you think it's safe, Peapod?"

"Yes, Peapod," Pearl replied, "Father never goes there after dark, and if Mother's occupied, she will not tarry in the garden for any reason. Mrs. Edwards always stays in indoors at night, afraid of wild coyotes and wolves, and forces the young ones to do likewise, so we should be able to recreate outdoors in safety."

Opal giggled. "Perhaps procreate would be a better term, Peapod."

"No, absolutely not, Peapod. There will be no chance of that going on, we cannot risk it."

They slipped through the hallways like ghosts, naked and on the edge of giggling being unclad in public places, ready to dart around a corner if someone else appeared, but all others were accounted for and our passage went unknown. When we got to the garden, they rolled on the grass, slight damp from an afternoon shower, barely suppressing their joy at their natural liberty, as I disrobed and lay on the ground. When they found me in place, they hastened to take their positions: Opal sat above my chest, her legs tucked under my shoulders and arms, her hair unbound and flowing in a slight breeze and her sex eager for the touch of my lips. Pearl's fingers were tracing patterns of gentility on my thighs, swooping in toward my testicles as her teasing mouth chased my manhood, threatening to catch it and just brushing it enough to fully arouse me.

Opal's taste was always slightly bitter at first, but mellowed to an addictive flavor that let me give her no respite as I licked her and kneaded her buttocks until she arched her back and gave out a wolf's call to the night. I listened: there were still sounds coming from the barn that ensure their attentions were elsewhere, and Sir Charles' cries from his study testified to his preoccupation with Ganymede. Opal moved below to attend to my prick while Pearl moved up to take her place. How strange, I thought to myself, they have the same nickname for each other. Perhaps it spoke to the intimacy of their lives, sharing a bed and much else since infancy, bound together as twins of two different mothers.

Pearl tasted of honey, a sweet contrast to her sister, and as I savored her nectar, my hands reached up to fondle her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples as she liked. Opal's talents below were astounding and shortly after Pearl's eyes rolled back and her balance wavered in her climax, I filled Opal's mouth with my seed to overflowing. After she finished, Pearl noticed there were strands of semen on my groin and thighs, and gathered them into her mouth as Opal kept sucking my prick.