15 Rue de l'Ascension Pt. 01

The hobnailed boots of Sergeant Henry Harris, Royal Engineers, rang against the cobblestones of the quiet suburban Parisian street. The locality was all but deserted, the streets strewn with horse manure, wet, cold and windswept on this unseasonal July evening. This must be the place, 15 Rue de l'Ascension. So many times Harris had heard of these places, exploits recounted in loving detail before wide-eyed recruits, knowing, wry references slipped into a conversation. Yet Harris had never visited himself, somehow an innate caution and unease had held him back. He had no sweetheart back home to think of, it didn't seem fair when the next day could bring bloody, violent death. More likely the idea of paying for sex had always seemed demeaning, that and fear of the clap had always held him back. This would be his first time to visit a brothel.

Despite all the experience and relative wordliness of his twenty-six years, Harris felt tense and anxious. He had done his research carefully, a nice, quiet, discrete, clean establishment, where there would be no rowdy interruptions or outbursts, no con-men or other hangers on, no overpriced drinks. Harris has also timed his arrival so that hopefully the establishment would not be too busy, he wanted to have a reasonable choice and not to be hurried. He only hoped he could find an at least passable girl, once he had paid up, that would be it. Harris's mind was made up, however. The offensive was on. No-one said so openly, but it was common knowledge, the considerable movements of foot soldiers and artillery were unmistakeable. Within a week he could be dead, or even worse, badly disfigured or mutilated, destined to return home to a life of pity, penury and dependence. It was so long since he had felt a woman's touch, he yearned for it with his whole being. Harris had kept his distance for a long time, slightly sullen and mistrustful. He enjoyed very strong bonds of comradeship with the men of his company, his men. What did women know of true love, of genuine sacrifice...

All Harris wanted was some physical satisfaction, and maybe a little emotional tenderness and a kind word. Harris knocked firmly and methodically at the door. For some moments, silence. This was the right place all right. Finally, muffled footsteps could be heard. A balding, stout doorman opened. Seeing Harris's uniform and Sergeant's stripes, he wordlessly admitted him inside. The Madame rose to greet him, a large, shrewd woman of raven black hair tied up in a bun. She looked Harris appraisingly up and down. Yet another novice, she thought to herself. Not been anywhere near a brothel in his life, and probably desperate for some action before he goes off to get killed. Well, he'll be easily taken care of. Nice looking boy, though, well above the norm for this place.

Harris was indeed a nice looking boy. Tall, upright and wiry, he carried an air of natural authority about him. His short, dark brown hair was neatly brushed back, his upper lip slightly paler where a moustache had recently been shaved off. He looked clean, fit and well-groomed. Payment made, Harris cast his eye impassively around the salon. A large, heavy but somewhat depleted bar ran the length of one wall. Wartime shortages were cutting deep. Four or five girls sat around, waiting for clients. Mostly brunettes, quite stocky and fleshy, none of them under thirty. Slim pickings indeed. There was no obvious sign of any other clients being entertained. Harris strode casually to the bar and ordered himself a cognac. Ah well, I'm in no hurry, I can wait. I'll give it a little while and if things don't improve, take one of these girls and be on my way. He couldn't help but feel disappointed, however.

After a short while, Harris felt a light tap on his arm. He turned to find a pair of the clearest blue eyes staring up at him. The girl held out her hand, 'Marion, enchantée.' Harris automatically raised the delicate hand to his lips, gazing at her. The mutual attraction was powerful and immediate. She was a lovely girl, Harris thought. Quite short, about five foot three, and pleasingly plump, with a round, almost cherubic face. A kind face, full if warmth and emotion. She was slightly pale, probably about twenty four or five. Her dark blonde hair was short and slicked back in a way that Harris found bold, genuine and very sensual. Her make-up was not overstated and had been skilfully and subtly applied: mascara and the obligatory deep red lipstick. Marion wore a simple bead double necklace around her neck, and a matching bracelet. Her silver dress was not genuine silk, but it suited her very well and finely accentuated her full backside. Gently, Marion took Harris by the arm and led him to her room.

Once there, and with the door closed behind him, Marion turned to greet him with a warm, generous smile. The room was quite small, but reasonably comfortable. The walls were whitewashed, with one or two simple framed photographs of the Paris cityscape for decoration. A warm rug covered the polished wooden floor, and a solid fuel cast iron heater in the corner added considerable and necessary warmth. The bed was reasonably sized, and Harris was relieved to see that the linen was newly changed. He had paid a little extra, but he could afford to, and it was worth it. There was also a rather threadbare chaise longue, and a laquer side table with some aperitifs on it ready. A large, imposing mirror stood at the foot of the bed. A large number of candles dotted about the horizontal surfaces of the room lent it a deep, heavy erotic glow.

Marion advanced towards Harris and methodically unbuttoned his tunic, taking it to be hung up behind the door. She unexpectedly stooped down before unfastening his heavy boots and also placing those by the door. Marion crossed to the laquer side table, uncorked a bottle and poured out two full glasses of red wine. She returned, passing one to Harris. She gazed at him for a moment, measuring him up. God yes, she had been right. A real man, a real soldier. None of your portly, fragrant staff officers or your sweaty palmed mothers boys here. Through experience, Marion could immediately surmise a lot about him. Here was a man in complete control of his rational self, a man who had known death, deprivation and considerable suffering. A man hardened by battle experience, whose sensual, emotional side had been dulled by the rigours of military service. A man who, like her, understood better than most the implicit value of being alive, and who was able to methodically indulge himself in the immediate moment. And yet, for all that, Marion could immediately sense that Harris was not an experienced lover, that he was a complete novice in a brothel, cautious and a little uncertain. Marion loved encounters like these. She felt a deep well of desire, excitement and passion start to build up deep within her. For all her sexual experience and skill, the flutter of nervous tension, the uncertainty and vulnerability of genuine sexual attraction was also present. She felt a little light headed. God, am I going to teach you a thing or two tonight, she thought to herself. She gestured to Harris to join her on the chaise longue. She sat sideways on to him and looked him in the eye as they brought their glasses together.

Marion knew from experience that it was not good to ask a soldier too many questions about himself. It immediately turned the conversation to war, death and suffering, suppressed secrets and trauma. It was far more effective for her to tell a little about herself. She took Harris's left hand in her own. 'So, my name is Marion. I'm twenty-six years old. I do this job because I have to, nothing more or less. There are good days and ... not so good days. You can relax with me and be yourself.' Marion continued to gaze at Harris steadily. 'I'm very good at what I do. Because I'm well established here, nearly three years now, the Madame trusts me and lets me keep this room all to myself. When business isn't too heavy, like tonight, I can choose whether to keep a lover with me all night, if I want to. That's all.' Her English was very good and only lightly accented.

Marion couldn't wait any longer. She stood up in front of Harris, four or five feet away from him. Her head tilted back slightly, her face a mask of desire and tension and her eyes fixed on Harris with a cold, lascivious stare, Marion ever so slowly raised her dress so that it was bunched about her waist. Harris was treated to the incredibly beautiful sight of Marion's firm, creamy rounded thighs, offset by her black stockings which ended in upper thigh and accentuated still further her wondrously fine flesh. She wore no suspenders. Harris couldn't have moved a muscle even if he had wanted to. He was quite hard now. Marion treated Harris to a teasing view of her white silk panties, which perfectly accentuated the mound of her pussy. Harris had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. Marion turned round, offering this desperately tense young soldier a view of her fine rounded buttocks, wonderfully accentuated by the contours of her panties and her plain black cotton stockings.

Marion went further – she was going to drive this man crazy with lust. Rarely, if ever, had she felt so powerful, so in control of her deep, complex sexuality. Marion leaned forward slightly, pulling her dress over her head and casting it aside as she did so. She spread her feet apart further, while keeping her legs straight but continuing to lean forward, in order to better accentuate the view of her buttocks, no more than five feet away from Harris's almost disbelieving eyes. Marion placed her hands on each of her buttocks behind her, and then drew in the silk material further into the cleft of her rump, further offering and exposing her buttock flesh, so that it was no more than a thin seam rising up to the curvature of her waist. Then Marion employed either hand to pull her buttocks apart still further, offering Harris her posterior in all its rounded perfection. No more than a thin strip of silk covered her buttocks, concealing her delicate anal opening, and further down the beginning of her vaginal entrance. Marion glanced behind her, her heart pounding with desire. Harris's eyes were of course riveted on her, desperate with lust, but she couldn't believe that he wasn't yet making any effort to manually stimulate himself. These inhibited English, she smiled to herself as she turned round.

Marion advanced on Harris and pulled him gently towards her. She placed her hand lightly on the back of his neck and pulled him up towards her. They immediately shared an intense, passionate kiss. Marion used her tongue and lips to slow Harris down a little, to remind him of the necessary eroticism of the moment. Still, she could understand, it must have been so long for him ...Marion gently flicked her tongue into Harris's mouth, exploring and teasing, gently biting on his lip. She wanted to cause him the slightest pain, to leave her desire in no doubt. As they kissed, Marion's slender, slim fingers worked at Harris's shirt, pulling it open and then away from him. Marion stepped back for a moment, gazing at his fine manly chest. Harris was not well-built, but he was fit, firm and sinewy. Marion grazed her fingers across the thin mat of black chest hair, tracing away ever so lightly with her fingertips down towards his abdomen and groin. A healed scar on Harris's left shoulder caught her eye, a war wound no doubt. Marion leaned across and kissed it with the lightest of touches. Then Marion allowed her soft, sensuous lips to continue their progress away across his firm, thick neck, applying one or two lascivious licks as she did so, before moving down to his breast. Marion applied delicate, langurous tongue movements to each of his nipples, lightly biting and squeezing as she did so. Harris closed his eyes and shuddered with pleasure. He felt Marion's hand move towards his groin and start to unhurriedly caress him through his trousers. Oh yes, firm, of good girth, and very hard ...

Marion continued to apply long, lascivious kisses to Harris's chest. Harris pulled the back of Marion's head towards him, and they exchanged a further long, passionate kiss. As they did so, Marion continued to caress his cock, a little more urgently now. She was normally very good at maintaining control, but this man was pushing her very close to the edge. Her skilled right hand started to work at Harris's belt, loosening it, easing down the flies before quickly slipping her hand inside. God yes, his cock was wonderfully hard and hot, straining against the plain white cotton of his white issue underwear. She continued to rhythmically stimulate him as she eased down his trousers and kicked them away. With a gasp of passion Marion tore herself away, and stared at Harris for a moment, wanting him, taunting him. He was far too turned on to hold back now. He advanced upon her and lowered his mouth to her delicate white neck. His kisses were passionate, urgent and a little too hard. Quickly sensing this, Harris slowed down a little as he moved his mouth down towards her breasts. They were quite small, but well formed, and beautifully accentuated by the white silk bra she was still wearing. Harris lowered his mouth to her right breast, almost completely covering it with his face. He gave long, stimulating kisses to her nipple through the bra, his breath was hot and full of desire. Marion felt a large, firm hand pull down her bra strap, then firmly pull down the thin silk restraining fabric covering her breast. For such an untrained lover, he was remarkably good, sensuous animal instinct must be having its effect. Harris applied light, delicate, stimulating licks to her already hard broad pink nipple. He continued to tease a little while before taking the nipple fully into his mouth and lightly sucking on it. Then the same with the other breast, more light, delicate sucking. Marion gasped lightly and closed her eyes with pleasure. She felt her bra being unfastened behind her and then eased to the floor. Marion wanted more. She held up each of her pale, wonderfully stimulated breasts and fed each of them in turn into Harris's wet and hungry mouth. She smiled down tenderly at him and ran her fingers through his hair.

Presently, Marion gave Harris a light shove and pushed him back on to the chaise longue, where he waited, sprawled and lustful. Marion stood before him, her legs slightly spread, her hands on her hips in a defiant, powerful gesture. She lowered her right hand down to her mound and began to gently masturbate herself through her silk panties for his pleasure. She spread her legs a little further in order to give herself better access. Her eyes were fixed on Harris as he breathed in every part of her beauty. With a rough, frank movement, Marion hauled down her panties so that they were left stretched across her legs in mid thigh, thin, fragrant, and already slightly damp with her juices. Harris was treated for the first time to the wondrous sight of Marion's pussy, a fine, thick tangled mass of brown pubic hair, only slightly trimmed around the edges so as to fit her panties. Marion bit her lip slightly. She traced her right index finger down to her already sopping cleft and began to gently rub up and down. For a little while she caressed, before adding a second finger, rubbing and stimulating. Harris was transfixed. Using the fingers of her left hand to luxuriate and knead her pubic bush, Marion slipped her right index finger inside herself and began to penetrate and explore. She was quite wet, and this exploration of her vaginal walls brought her great pleasure. She withdrew her finger and drew it into her mouth, savouring the thick, heady musk of her vulva on them.

Marion stepped lightly out her panties, and moved over to Harris. Leaning down before him, she lightly rubbed her panties, full of her womanly musk, across Harris's now damp abdomen and chest. His breath was already quick and she could detect the deep pounding of his heart. And then up to his neck, face and nose, allowing him every opportunity to breathe in her exquisite womanhood. Marion placed her soft silk panties in Harris's hand, allowing him to knead and caress them. Her cool blue eyes reminded him that she was still in complete control. With a final defiant glance, she lowered her face to Harris's sweating chest and began to lick. Marion continued her downward progress, licking and sucking on his manly flesh as she went. Harris felt simply light headed with desire.

Now naked but for her black stockings, Marion now sat crouched in front of him. It was a submissive posture which was equally arousing to her and to her clients. Marion reached down and fondled Harris's damp, hard testicles through his cotton shorts. With one slow deliberate movement of her mouth, she worked her lips all the way up the length of his long shaft to where the head almost peeped out from the cloth. Taking the tip of the shorts between her teeth, she started to tug them down, using her fingers to assist her. Harris's hard, desperate cock sprang free.

Marion bent down and applied herself to slowly and gently licking Harris's shaft. She started on his round, firm testicles, breathing in his sweat and musk, kissing and nibbling, all the while rhythmically caressing them with her right hand. His penis, she reckoned, was nearly eight inches, with a fine, thick girth. Pale and lightly veined, the extensive candlelight in the room lent it a warm, erotic glow. Slowly and methodically Marion licked her way up his shaft, firstly short teasing licks, then followed by stronger, longer, more sustained lascivious movements. Harris's eyes closed in pleasure. All the while Marion was experimenting, working out the best ways to experiment and please him. Yes, it was these longer, languorous movements that were working well for him, as was the case for the majority of men.

Marion took Harris's cock in both his hands and began to gently and methodically wank him up and down, measuring and encouraging his hardness. She gazed steadily into Harris's eyes. 'I'm going to take you to a place you never knew existed, to show you just how, when the mood takes her, a woman can really please a man. Your manhood will be completely controlled, stimulated and fucked by my tender hands and mouth. Are you ready for that?' Marion gave Harris a knowing grimace. Then, staring all the while at him, she began to flick her light, sensuous tongue across the throbbing, shiny head of Harris's cock. From side to side she licked, around the top, and a series of long, lingering licks up the most sensitive underside to the head. All the while, Marion used both her hands to gently and rhythmically masturbate him. The long, loving, sensitive licks around the glans were driving Harris wild, he started to stretch and writhe in his seat, wanting to prolong the ecstasy but also fearful that she would bring him to climax too soon. He need not have worried, Marion was rapidly proving herself to be an accomplished, expert cocksucker. Marion dribbled some hot, thick saliva onto the head and then used some more languorous licks to work it in more fully. With a final challenging glance at Harris, she bent down and took the whole of the delicious, hard glans into her mouth. She transferred her left hand down to her groin and began to rhythmically frig her already damp pussy. Marion worked her lips further down Harris's shaft, getting a sense of how hard she could suck him. Her mouth was relatively small and she had to be careful not to suck too much at first for fear of over-stimulating him. Harris let out an involuntary low groan of pleasure, her warm, busy, caressing lips felt incredible on him. God, what a good and sensuous lover she was!

Marion advanced still further until she had as much of him in her mouth as she could take, before moving back up again. And then again, repeating the same movement, building up a slow deliberate rhythm pleasurable both to herself and to Harris. Aware of Harris's relative inexperience, she was cautious and very anxious that he should not climax too quickly. She wanted to make love to this cock for the rest of the night, it was literally that, as she both physically and emotionally embraced and stimulated the whole of his manhood. What a fine, wonderful man, how frustrated and lonely he must have been! What a pleasure it was to have him all to herself!