All That I Want To Hear

Disclaimer: Regular readers may find this story to be a brief departure from my usual uplifting stories. My challenge was to write an erotic tragedy about a terribly wayward and ill-fated character. This is a brief story about sadness and pangs of the heart -- and the inability to understand how to deal with them. Note that there are also suggestions of incest between two female characters, however, I wish to provide the caveat that it is most assuredly not an incest story. I hope you enjoy this humble, cautionary tale!

***

Paris was a dream. Or, at least that's what it was always meant to be.

I viewed it as a means of escape from the day to day financial struggles back home in the States. I had been working as a safety consultant for the New York Central Railroad before receiving an offer to consult at the Gare de Lyon after an air brake failure caused a tragic derailment that took the lives of several innocent Parisians.

Upon accepting the offer, I began to so badly desire a world of fine wines, gourmet food, and dynamic intellectualism. A world that was relaxed and carefree; a free ride to prosperity and happiness -- perfect for a young bachelor such as myself. I was yearning to find some beautiful French girl to seek the affections of, marry, and live out a life of excitement and sexual fulfillment -- no differently than so many other foreigners on a search for romance amidst the lure of the City of Lights.

Suffering fits of desperation, my own City of Lights typically came alive at night. It was bewitched by strange waif-like phantoms; pallid, gaunt figures standing in the pools of light beneath street lamps, their dreamy expressions somehow lifeless. On that evening, one of them blinked slowly at me with her long lashes resembling the saw teeth of a Venus flytrap. Were it not for this subtle movement I might as well have been petitioned by a department store mannequin.

I passed them each by, struggling to find the companionship that precisely suited my needs. However, I happened to approach the Promenade de l'Allée du Séminaire on my way to the gardens for an evening stroll when I spotted a charming young woman sitting alone on a bench looking a touch morose. It seemed as if she bore the weight of the whole world on her shoulders. The look on her face aroused in me an instant sympathy, beautiful and tragic as she seemed to be. Feeling moved to console her, I approached with care, briefly introducing myself and asking permission to take a seat by her side.

She looked up at me and quickly adjusted herself, wiping away the mascara which had begun to run down to her cheek as if, perhaps, she had just shed a single tear in private prior to my arrival. It was not lost on me what she was; in some ways, no different than all those other girls emerging from everywhere to line the streets during the evening hours. Yet, somehow, she seemed so different. I found in her gentle expression a tender humanity that drew me straight into those limpid eyes.

The young woman's face lit up the moment I offered my heartfelt attention. She came alive, wooing me so immediately with her charms that I quickly forgot why I had even approached her in the first place. She introduced herself as Yvette. I kissed her hand and offered a friendly smile that seemed to soothe whatever ailed her.

From her dark, high-arched eyebrows, to her mysterious eyes and strong nose, there was a certain exoticness to Yvette's beauty that I surmised could only have come from the blood of a ravishing Middle Eastern immigrant passed through the prism of generations of selective French breeding.

"It is too beautiful an evening to be sitting here," I formally declared, exhibiting my gentlemanly manners. "The gardens are so close by. Why don't we go stroll for a while? I must confess that I feel a particular romance in the air tonight."

She smiled warmly at me and accepted my hand. Yvette and I approached the Jardin du Luxembourg where we enjoyed some friendly conversation, bathing in the scent of fresh vegetation breathing in the moonlight, precisely the revitalizing tonic that such an evening needed. It wasn't long before Yvette fell victim to the magic spell of our sentimental walk. I felt the budding of amorousness forming between us, so I formally proposed a generous fee for her erotic services and asked how far away she resided.

Within an instant, I had captured her eager invitation to love and we made haste toward Vavin, in the direction of her home which happened to be just a stone's throw away.

As we neared our destination, a rotund old woman hung out over her balcony, beating a small rug with her heavy wooden spoon. The tedious rapping sound clattered back and forth between the silent buildings on either side of that narrow, winding street, stirring to life a band of sleeping pigeons. When she saw us pass, she stopped and peered down at me. I felt rattled by her gaze and wanted nothing more than to quickly escape inside Yvette's home, whichever one it was.

As it turned out, Yvette lived in a small, ramshackle house set amidst several more imposing structures. Its dingy facade was graying and the roof had sunken on one side giving it the appearance of a slouched hat. Truly, it seemed to be the only house in the area that may as well have come through a war. The thing looked like a decaying tooth sandwiched between two pearly whites.

I confess that the moment I saw her humble abode I fancied our affair might play out like a Cinderella story. We would make love and find ourselves instantly drawn to one another. I would rescue her from her present trade, offering all that I could -- marriage, a better life, comfort and security; all the things that, admittedly, I was still working to establish for myself.

Since the moment we had met, Yvette had performed her expert analysis on me; deducing my precise tastes and triggers by asking the right questions and observing whatever clues I was giving with my particular mannerisms and gestures. -- How well she had me pegged! -- We made straight for the bedroom where the air had already been scented with a lovely perfume. She teasingly removed her undergarments from beneath her dress with a skillful technique that I had never seen before. Soon reduced to just a simple chemise, she made for my lips, adoring them with the sweetness of her own. She tasted like the luscious cherries I had once savored from a small market one weekend during a stroll in Montparnasse.

With great care she removed my jacket and hung it on the chair across from her dressing table, strewn haphazardly with makeup containers and half-empty perfume bottles. She continued to undress me, clearing a suitable place for all my things with total disregard for her own, then stood back and marveled at my nude body as if she were a painter studying her model. Her attentive gaze made me feel like Michelangelo's David, her eyes sparkling with awe and amorous anticipation.

Yvette then proceeded to perform a grand reveal, stretching her long, lean arms up into the air where she grasped the top of her chemise and drew it slowly upward. It was as if she removed a sheath of liquid silk, the fabric highlighting a body dripping with sexuality, accentuating every curve, slipping through the chasm of her breasts, stimulating the taut nipples that disturbed the smoothness of that shimmering garment. As it cleared her head, she was left there standing as nude as I was -- and what a sight to behold.

Her body was exquisite in every way, from the long locks of her satiny hair to the tiny painted toes at her feet. I adored the gentle grace of her neck. I adored the slight peach fuzz scattered about the inky well of her bellybutton. Her long legs were soft and smooth, almost fragile in their delicate constitution. At the apex of her pale thighs was a triangular mass of fur as sweet as sin and black as death. Her breasts were sensational; perfectly-sized and playful in their movement. I stepped forward and accosted them with a certain desperation, anxious to delight in their supple, pillowy warmth. I took her sanguineous nipples in my mouth immediately, suckling like a hungry child as she stroked my hair and sighed happily.

Yvette led me enthusiastically to her bed. I knew, of course, that it was her job to please each client -- however, I was content to enjoy the sense of special excitement she exuded, showering me with her affections and expressing a pure desire to be with me and me alone.

She laid me back and took great care to see to my comfort, hopping excitedly between my legs where she confronted herself rather joyfully with the impressive pronouncement of my fully distended cock. She wrapped her hands around it as if it were some precious object, adoring my penis -- worshipping it, I might say, before issuing a hearty laugh at the way it jerked to life each time she trailed her soft hair across my sensitive glans.

I felt in an instant that she genuinely delighted in making merry with me; I was not simply another customer on another fragrant summer evening. I felt myself sink into the soft sheets of her bed as she drew her warm tongue up the length of my shaft from base to tip, inhaling the warm musk emanating from my body as my arousal grew tenfold.

"The most natural and masculine of all colognes," Yvette sighed, her cheeks becoming ruddy as the pheromones gripped her mind and flooded her body with a rush of endorphins.

I watched a fierce desire begin to burn in her eyes as she lowered again to my pulsing cock, opening her mouth wide to indulge in my phallic offering until it slid through the warm cavity of her mouth all the way to the back. She began a slow, sensual sucking, curling her tongue around my shaft, down to the tip and back again, skillfully rendering me helpless as I lay there in a state of perfect bliss. With every beat of my heart, my cock pulsed angrily in her mouth, surging with an infuriating heat and energy.

Finally, as if aiming to coat it with a soothing balm, she opened her hips and tucked it between her legs, rubbing it back and forth through the moist folds of her flesh as if to demonstrate just how wet the mere sight of me had rendered her. I lurched forward, unable to withstand another moment of passive enjoyment. I was immediately at her breast, burying my face in the deep channel between two soft cushions as smooth and round as could be. She laughed and began to stroke me as I nibbled at her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin still effervescent with traces of an inexpensive perfume.

Patient no more, I swung her down onto her back, enchanted by the musical laughter that continued to bubble up from her throat. There I wedged open her legs and gasped at the sight of the modest black thatch as her soft outer labia peeled open, finding myself in full view of a glistening pink pussy that seemed to be so perfect in its composition that I found it nothing short of pure feminine divinity.

I threw myself at her hips as she squealed with excitement, intoxicated by the humid heat radiating from her bush and the sweet aroma of her perfect intimacy. I showed her no mercy, circling her expanding hole, sucking at her lips, teasing at her budding clit until my face was awash in the funk of her anguished juices.

When I finally came up for air, I found my new lover had adopted a different attitude, one of perfect astonishment at my desire to conduct our business of pleasure with a mutual aim. Her hair flooded out from her head in all directions like the tendrils of a sun-scorched vine. She lay there, still gasping for air as her serene smile illustrated a perfect vision of intoxication. I knew that I had her the moment she rose into my arms, suddenly weak and frantic for a kiss -- not the kind a prostitute offers her customer but the one shared by a true lover.

Laying her back down, I leaned over her body presenting all its riches to me. She threw her arms around my torso, clasping her legs as if to hold me in a trap as I smoothly entered her. Every muscle in Yvette's body became activated, welcoming me into her tight, damp cavity. I strained from pleasure, calling out her name with a hoarseness that illustrated my incredible agitation.

We began moving in perfect harmony, her eyes lost in mine, my thick, swollen member invading her body with urgency, finding itself coated in the generous expression of her affections. I thought that no man could fit a woman as perfectly as that, our bodies as uniquely suited for one another as a lock and its key.

As I continued to thrust, I found my senses overwhelmed by the scent of her body, the sound of our greedy coupling, the soft compression of her jostling breasts as I clutched at them helplessly. A bead of sweat ran down my temple. Her flesh simmered with goosebumps. I felt the sting of her nails striping my back as she arched and cried out, begging me to complete our union.

Never before in my life had I reached such a climax. The grand fountains of the Bassin d'Apollon could not have spurted harder than I did at the height of our passion. And, having flooded the plains of her soft stomach with my exhaustive efforts, we soon found ourselves a perfect complement to one another, entangled in each other's embrace as the cool night air rushed swiftly in through the windows to lull us into a grand narcosis.

***

In the early morning hours, I woke suddenly with a strong urge to urinate and found myself still in Yvette's bed. Her deep breathing beside me filled the obscurity of the room with its comfortable, steady rhythm.

I made my way down the hall in search of the bathroom and found it by the top of the staircase. The light was on but the door was open so I slipped inside and hurried to the toilet. In my stupor, I nearly failed to notice that a young woman peacefully reclined in the tub in the midst of her early morning bath. She stared up at me with quiet amusement. I nearly fell over.

"Oh! My apologies, I did not realize it was occupied."

She giggled. "That's okay. I'll just turn my head and grant you some privacy," she explained calmly, turning her face to the wall.

I found her comment odd. I was, after all, already standing before her in the nude, having just slid out of bed after an evening of torrid lovemaking. It occurred to me that I couldn't even recall how or why I stayed the night. Memories of my time with Yvette slowly began to fill my head, filling in the missing gaps, but I quickly dismissed them, afraid I might become aroused in front of this poor, sweet girl.

I relieved myself and quickly cleaned up. The young woman in the tub turned her head back around and smiled at me. She was every bit as lovely as Yvette was and so I had no intention of leaving so quickly.

"Do you live here as well?" I asked, hoping for some simple conversation that might delay a premature exit.

The young woman did not seem the least bit bashful at the sight of my naked genitals as I stood there towering over her. Nor did she seem ashamed of the shiny globes of her small breasts that floated in the soapy water like two apples waiting to be bobbed for.

"I do," she replied simply.

"Where is your room?"

She laughed. "The room you are staying in is also my room."

"You share a bed with Yvette?" I asked, surprised at her response.

"Yvette is my sister. She does not permit me to sleep in the bed while she attends to a man."

"Where do you sleep, then?"

The young woman pointed toward the opposite side of the house with a slender, wet finger. "On the divan."

"Oh, that must be dreadfully uncomfortable," I exclaimed. "Why don't you join us?"

"She would be upset with me. Yvette thinks it will scare you away... and we need the money."

"Of course not!" I chuckled. "A pretty girl such as yourself is certainly a welcome addition to our bed." She just smiled silently at me. "Here, you seem to be finished. Why don't you stand up and let's have a look at you," I suggested warmly. "Shall I dry you off?"

"The towel is just there," she said, politely complying and directing my attention behind my back.

As I turned to collect the towel, I heard water begin to rain into the tub behind me. I swung back around and found the beautiful girl standing there with soapy water snaking down her seductive body. She appeared to be a few years younger than Yvette. Her small, perky breasts were tipped with beautiful, blushing pink nipples that stood erect in the cool air. I could not help but become more than a little aroused in her presence, a fact which brought a similar blush to her face.

I rushed to her side and patted the soft material about her bare flesh, soaking up the excess moisture that remained on her body. Squatting before her sensuous figure to dry her legs, I found myself face-to-face with an extraordinary example of the female sex. The pubic hair that graced her mons was soft and delicate, brown and fairer than Yvette's. Her luscious pink lips had a rosy hue and were sweetly folded like two petals tucked together on a rose awaiting its first bloom.

How I wanted to part them and watch her blossom before my eyes!

She seemed to be aware that I was stalling but offered me a tender smile, so I lingered just a moment longer before collecting myself and standing back up. I realized that I had forgotten to ask her name and did so at once.

"Delphine," she replied.

"A pretty name. -- Shall we?" I asked, clearing the way to the door.

"I must apply my lotion first," she answered.

"May I be of any assistance with that task?" I asked, wishing to continue our flirtatious exchange.

She chuckled. "I would like that."

Delphine gestured to a small bottle filled with a pearly white cream. I fished out a dollop with two fingers, took a seat, and invited her to my lap. She happily joined me there, resting her round, peachy bottom on my thighs. I quickly embraced her, massaging the ointment into her soft flesh, circling her breasts, moving over the lovely expanse of her stomach, slipping between her thighs... She sighed softly as I moved stealthily about her anatomy, caressing every inch of her body as if it were some precious heirloom needing to be polished regularly in order to maintain that perfect, lustrous splendor.

"Tell me -- what is your age?" I asked. "And do you... perform the same services as your sister?" Delphine, distracted by my soothing massage, barely opened her eyes. I suddenly realized my faux pas, observing that she was sufficiently of age. "Apologies, where are my manners?" I added.

She smiled serenely. "Old enough to be apprenticing under my sister's tutelage."

When I was finished anointing Delphine's body, she turned her eyes to greet mine. How they had transformed! They flittered about my face, absorbing every detail as it imprinted itself on her sweet, innocent mind. She swept her long hair to the side and gave me a serious look, then brought her trembling lips near to mine before pressing them firmly outward to indulge in a lengthy kiss.

"Come," she said hurriedly. "I accept your invitation to bed."

We strolled naked together down the hallway back to the bedroom where I had left Yvette laying there in repose. As I approached the bed, I climbed in next to Yvette and made room to my other side, ready to enjoy a most delicious sandwich. To my surprise, Delphine circled the bed to the opposite side. She curled up next to Yvette who, though still adrift in a deep slumber, instinctively began to spoon with her sister. I watched curiously as Yvette buried herself in Delphine's hair as if the familiar scent of it smoothed her mind.

Strange though this was, I watched the delicious spectacle of their interlocked bodies for several minutes, one ensconced tenderly in the other; two lithe, nude feminine forms as pleasing to the eye as the little Parc Monceau, where I had taken residence, on a sunny summer afternoon.