Phileas Fogg - A Memoir Pt. 20

"Is it in?" She inquired, instinctively knowing it would incite me even more.I sent my prick surging into her at that, marveling at her tightness, her warmth and the velvety smoothness of her cunt.

Aouda thrilled to the feel of me filling her, and the rapture closed in upon her as the first of many orgasms began.

I took my time, using slow, deliberate strokes I thrust in and out, reveling in the very feel of her walls as they clung to my protracted movements. I kissed her and her mouth opened to accept my tongue again and we played an erotic form of tag, alternating it with intervals wherein we sucked each others tongue into our mouths; but always concentrating on the place where our loins were joined gloriously together.

I picked up the pace and wrought a more violent reaction from Aouda than I'd expected, for she came hard, and swept a cup and saucer that had been on the table onto the floor where they shattered into a thousand pieces.

Aouda's head began to swim from the recurring climaxes resulting from our combined thrusting. She now had her legs wrapped around my waist, trying to draw me even further into her. The muscles in her quim were clenching me reflexively and I drew ever closer to spending.

Suddenly I was gushing into her, unable to without myself any longer. Aouda too was spending; her cunt clenching me as she spasmed to her tumultuous climax.

"It's over!" I heard her sob, and my eyes filled at the thought of her weeping at the loss of my member now shriveling up inside her.

Too my surprise and great joy, I found that my shaft was still firm, and so I kept thrusting into her. Aouda marveled at this and wrapped her legs tightly around my waist to ensure I was contained in her.

Each stroke I took forced spunk out of her quim and onto our thighs, thoroughly lubricating we two fornicators, both inside and out. Aouda was now swimming in a surging tide of ecstasy as I managed to continue to fuck in and out of her frothy channel.

"OH! It cannot be this good, CAN IT?" She muttered to herself, but I heard her words and gasped, "I know . . . it's impossible . . . but it is happening, tell me I'm not dreaming."

"YOU'RE NOT . . . DREAMING, I gasped having exerted myself to the fullest.

Aouda spent again on feeling me ejaculating into her for the second time and collapsed, falling straight back, hitting her head hard upon the tabletop.

When she woke up, she found herself on my bed. She saw my silhouette over her and turned to look at me; still not fully recovered from the sexual exhaustion on the table. She freely admitted her head hurt, but she was distracted from the pain by the sight of my newly risen erection.

Aouda examined my body closely for the first time. Feeling the muscles in my chest and arms and running her fingers through the dark hair on my chest. Her eyes bored into mine with such an intense stare that a wave of lust swept over the both of us.

I climbed onto the bed without saying a word and Aouda began to writhe with anticipation. I allowed my hands to roam over her legs, and felt a shiver go through her. I touched her quim with his finger and felt her grow wet almost immediately. Instead of mounting her, I brought my face down to her crotch. Aouda moaned as I started to nibble on the outer lips of her cunt; then teased them with my teeth. My hands roamed over her outer thighs, then caressed her hips. Aouda was moaning uncontrollably.

When my lips left her crotch she moaned louder in pure desperation. I was panting hard, trying to keep myself under control. My fingers took hold of her hard nipples, teasing them until she could no longer bear it.

She commanded me to: "Bite them! Chew them!"

But I refused and continued teasing them; bestowing long, tickling licks upon each one. My hands had her wrists pinioned to the mattress, the weight of my legs kept her lower half secure. Aouda might have struggled more with her legs, but the reality was that she wanted me inside her and dared not risk losing me. And so she endured . . . well endured might be a poor choice of words as her pleasure grew more intense with each passing second.

I slithered down her torso and she felt the delicious touch of my tongue working its way along her inner thigh toward . . . . "YES!" she croaked. "THERE!"

My lips touched her outer lips and kissed them so gently that Aouda swooned momentarily. When she recovered seconds later, I was probing inside her with my serpentine-like oral muscle. Aouda could not believe that a man, so distant in ordinary circumstances, knew so much about arousing a woman. But then, she cared not where I had come to learn such things and only that I continue to address myself to her; only that I continue to astonish her with my marvelous technique. I managed to do just that. Soon my tongue was driving her mad. Aouda kept thrashing about as climax after climax ravaged her body.

Later, thinking back, Aouda could only recall some of the magical things I had done to her:

Touching her engorged clit with my flickering tongue; thrusting a finger into her anus, and the glorious orgasm that brought on; and, if she had it right, I'd followed that by inserting my phallus into her cunt.

Aouda had struggled to stay conscious throughout the series of convulsive climaxes I bestowed upon her, and as she recovered, she saw my face hovering over hers. Slowly, ever so slowly, I smiled down at her and sent my throbbing member into her once again. "This is the last one," I told her. "Let's make it unforgettable."

Aouda was incredulous at this statement. "Make it unforgettable? What were all the others?"

I began thrusting slowly, machine-like at first, as droplets of sweat fell from my face and neck onto her breasts. She told me after that my words haunted her. "What words, my love?" I'd asked.

"Let's make it unforgettable," she replied, and I almost died of happiness. We resumed our lovemaking, both moving faster.

"I can't wiggle my toes," she moaned, and I laughed. "I feel your seed running down the cleft of my buttocks,' she cried.

"Shall we stop and cleanse your arse?" I inquired.

"No!"

"Shall I stop and examine those lovely toes of yours?"

"No!"

"Shall I keep pumping my manhood into your lovely quim?"

"OH, YES!"

Then, "OH, OH, OH! It's so good! I cannot bear another moment! I . . . I'm going to spend!"

Evidently her spend was so exquisitely pleasurable and fulfilling that she slowly blacked out as her hold on consciousness slipped away.

She never felt me spend in her, but I did, several precious moments later and I collapsed upon her and remained still, even after Aouda slowly returned to the world at the very moment the train darted into a long tunnel, sucking the scant light our shared compartment possessed. Perhaps an hour passed while we clung to one another, kissing and nibbling lovingly at each other.

I was the first to speak. "We must be careful, so you must leave now. Tonight I will let you know when you can return to my room."

Aouda dressed, and after I had opened the compartment door and checked to see if anyone was lurking about, she left me with a last parting kiss and hurried to her own compartment to rest and dream about what had happened. Later that afternoon, Aouda met with Fogg and Passepartout and had a pleasant conversation wherein she revealed nothing to either of the gentleman concerning her trysts with both. Instead she kept up a running chatter to hide the lust and nervousness she had about both men whilst fearing the one learning of her laying with the other.

And so Aouda confirmed the Parsee guide's narrative of her touching history. She did, indeed, belong to the highest of the native races of India. Many of the Parsee merchants have made great fortunes there by dealing in cotton; and one of them, Sir Jametsee Jeejeebhoy, was made a baronet by the English government. Aouda was a relative of this great man, and it was his cousin, Jeejeeh, whom she hoped to join at Hong Kong. Whether she would find a protector in him she could not tell; but Mr. Fogg essayed to calm her anxieties, and to assure her that everything would be mathematically—he used the very word—arranged. Aouda fastened her great eyes, "clear as thee sacred lakes of the Himalaya," upon him; but the intractable Fogg, as reserved as ever, did not seem at all inclined to throw himself into this lake.

The first few days of the voyage passed prosperously, amid favourable weather and propitious winds, and they soon came in sight of the great Andaman, the principal of the islands in the Bay of Bengal, with its picturesque Saddle Peak, two thousand four hundred feet high, looming above the waters. The steamer passed along near the shores, but the savage Papuans, who are in the lowest scale of humanity, but are not, as has been asserted, cannibals, did not make their appearance.

The panorama of the islands, as they steamed by them, was superb. Vast forests of palms, arecs, bamboo, teakwood, of the gigantic mimosa, and tree-like ferns covered the foreground, while behind, the graceful outlines of the mountains were traced against the sky; and along the coasts swarmed by thousands the precious swallows whose nests furnish a luxurious dish to the tables of the Celestial Empire. The varied landscape afforded by the Andaman Islands was soon passed, however, and theRangoonrapidly approached the Straits of Malacca, which gave access to the China seas.

What was detective Fix, so unluckily drawn on from country to country, doing all this while? He had managed to embark on theRangoonat Calcutta without being seen by Passepartout, after leaving orders that, if the warrant should arrive, it should be forwarded to him at Hong Kong; and he hoped to conceal his presence to the end of the voyage. It would have been difficult to explain why he was on board without awakening Passepartout's suspicions, who thought him still at Bombay. But necessity impelled him, nevertheless, to renew his acquaintance with the worthy servant, as will be seen.

All the detective's hopes and wishes were now centred on Hong Kong; for the steamer's stay at Singapore would be too brief to enable him to take any steps there. The arrest must be made at Hong Kong, or the robber would probably escape him for ever. Hong Kong was the last English ground on which he would set foot; beyond, China, Japan, America offered to Fogg an almost certain refuge. If the warrant should at last make its appearance at Hong Kong, Fix could arrest him and give him into the hands of the local police, and there would be no further trouble. But beyond Hong Kong, a simple warrant would be of no avail; an extradition warrant would be necessary, and that would result in delays and obstacles, of which the rascal would take advantage to elude justice.

Fix thought over these probabilities during the long hours which he spent in his cabin, and kept repeating to himself, "Now, either the warrant will be at Hong Kong, in which case I shall arrest my man, or it will not be there; and this time it is absolutely necessary that I should delay his departure. I have failed at Bombay, and I have failed at Calcutta; if I fail at Hong Kong, my reputation is lost: Cost what it may, I must succeed! But how shall I prevent his departure, if that should turn out to be my last resource?"

Fix made up his mind that, if worst came to worst, he would make a confidant of Passepartout, and tell him what kind of a fellow his master really was. That Passepartout was not Fogg's accomplice, he was very certain. The servant, enlightened by his disclosure, and afraid of being himself implicated in the crime, would doubtless become an ally of the detective. But this method was a dangerous one, only to be employed when everything else had failed. A word from Passepartout to his master would ruin all. The detective was therefore in a sore strait. But suddenly a new idea struck him. The presence of Aouda on theRangoon, in company with Phileas Fogg, gave him new material for reflection.

Who was this woman? What combination of events had made her Fogg's travelling companion? They had evidently met somewhere between Bombay and Calcutta; but where? Had they met accidentally, or had Fogg gone into the interior purposely in quest of this charming damsel? Fix was fairly puzzled. He asked himself whether there had not been a wicked elopement; and this idea so impressed itself upon his mind that he determined to make use of the supposed intrigue. Whether the young woman were married or not, he would be able to create such difficulties for Mr. Fogg at Hong Kong that he could not escape by paying any amount of money.

But could he even wait till they reached Hong Kong? Fogg had an abominable way of jumping from one boat to another, and, before anything could be effected, might get full under way again for Yokohama.

Fix decided that he must warn the English authorities, and signal theRangoonbefore her arrival. This was easy to do, since the steamer stopped at Singapore, whence there is a telegraphic wire to Hong Kong. He finally resolved, moreover, before acting more positively, to question Passepartout. It would not be difficult to make him talk; and, as there was no time to lose, Fix prepared to make himself known.

It was now the 30th of October, and on the following day theRangoonwas due at Singapore.

Fix emerged from his cabin and went on deck. Passepartout was promenading up and down in the forward part of the steamer. The detective rushed forward with every appearance of extreme surprise, and exclaimed, "You here, on theRangoon?"

"What, Monsieur Fix, are you on board?" returned the really astonished Passepartout, recognising his crony of theMongolia. "Why, I left you at Bombay, and here you are, on the way to Hong Kong! Are you going round the world too?"

"No, no," replied Fix; "I shall stop at Hong Kong—at least for some days."

"Hum!" said Passepartout, who seemed for an instant perplexed. "But how is it I have not seen you on board since we left Calcutta?"

"Oh, a trifle of sea-sickness—I've been staying in my berth. The Gulf of Bengal does not agree with me as well as the Indian Ocean. And how is Mr. Fogg?"

"As well and as punctual as ever, not a day behind time! But, Monsieur Fix, you don't know that we have a young lady with us."

"A young lady?" replied the detective, not seeming to comprehend what was said.

Passepartout thereupon recounted Aouda's history, the affair at the Bombay pagoda, the purchase of the elephant for two thousand pounds, the rescue, the arrest, and sentence of the Calcutta court, and the restoration of Mr. Fogg and himself to liberty on bail. Fix, who was familiar with the last events, seemed to be equally ignorant of all that Passepartout related; and the later was charmed to find so interested a listener.

"But does your master propose to carry this young woman to Europe?"

"Not at all. We are simply going to place her under the protection of one of her relatives, a rich merchant at Hong Kong."

"Nothing to be done there," said Fix to himself, concealing his disappointment. "A glass of gin, Mr. Passepartout?"

"Willingly, Monsieur Fix. We must at least have a friendly glass on board theRangoon."