Will Work for Panties Ch. 06

“Well, I mean me and you. And Gail is out of town for the summer. What do I do? I just cheated on my girlfriend.”

“First of all it is ‘you and me.’ I am French and even I know that much English grammar. Secondly, would you want your first time weeth Gail to be like your last time with that other girl?”

“Lisa.”

“Oui. Would you want it to be like it was weeth Lisa.”

“No, I’d want it to be good.”

“Well, ‘ave you learned anything tonight?” she smiled as she asked the question.

“Yeah. Take it slow, breath easy, lot’s of foreplay…”

“So tonight was a learning experience?” she interrupted.

“Yes.”

“So, that is a good theeng. Is it not?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess so. Just…” I trailed off.

“Just what, Cherie?”

“What if when I do make love to her I can’t come without a pair of panties in my face?”

“Well then I would suggest this.”

“What?” I begged.

“’Ave ‘er put a pair of panties in your face, and enjoy. Apprécier votre temps ensemble.”

We laughed together, although I had no idea what she said last.

“So, you’re like a teacher.”

“’If it ‘elps you to theenk of me that way, then so be it.”

“Was Claude your teacher?” I asked. I was fearful of broaching a sensitive subject, but my mouth got ahead of my mind.

“Oui. Claude was my l'enseignant dans l'amour. ‘E was a wonderful man, and I loved ‘im very much. ‘E taught me so much about art, and music, and love. When I arrived in Paris as a young woman I ‘ad no such experience. I grew up on a small farm, but I wanted to be a model so I moved to Paris.”

“That’s where you fell in love with him?”

“Oui. ‘E seduced me.”

“Like you did to me tonight?” I asked.

“No Mon Cherie, Claude ‘ad to work at it.”

“What? Was I that easy?”

“Cherie, I theenk you knew exactly what was ‘appening.”

I just lay back and sighed.

“I think you’re right. So, Claude was in love with you, too.”

“Oui, Claude and I were in love for a long time. We were not always together, but we always came back to each other. That portrait ‘anging over the bed, the one you said you liked, that was the last portrait Claude ever painted. We ‘ad been apart for several years, but when we came together again after such a long separation ‘e painted that and poured all of ‘imself into it.”

I rolled onto my elbow to get a better look at the painting. I sat up in the bed and admired the artist’s handiwork.

“It is a beautiful painting. I’m not a big art fan, but this is really something else. You are so beautiful.”

“Merci, Cherie. ‘E panted that in ‘is studio. I remember when ‘e was done we made love in that very bathtub.”

“That couldn’t have been very comfortable,” I snickered.

“Fill a tub weeth warm water and two hot lovers, and it can be very comfortable. Oui, very comfortable indeed,” she replied.

“I’ll bet you two were splashing around like drowning sailors.”

She did not say anything. She just smiled a big smile, her teeth gleaming even in the dimness of the room. Madeline wrapped her arms around me and kissed me firmly again and again.

“Oui, mon amore. We made love like two people possessed.”

She stopped kissing me and just rested her head on my chest.

“It is good to be ‘ere weeth you, Cherie,” she said.

“I’m happy I’m here with you too, Madeline.”

I paused before saying anything else. I was so curious I could not help but ask. I really wanted to know what had come of the steaming hot love affair between Madeline and Claude. It was a mystery, and I had to get to the bottom of it.

“Madeline,” I hesitated. “What happened to him? What ever happened to Claude?”

Madeline kept her head on my chest. I did not ask again. If she wanted to answer me she would, otherwise I would just respect her privacy. However, she stirred from my chest, rolled onto her elbow and looked me deep in the eyes.

“What ‘appened to Claude?” she repeated my question.

“Yeah?”

“My ‘usband shot him.”

“What!”

***

“Claude and I ‘ad planned to be married when I first started modeling for ‘im. I loved ‘im very much, and I so wanted to be ‘is wife. Fate, ‘owever, ‘ad other plans for us. Claude was a struggling artist, and not one to settle down easily. So, I waited for ‘im.

“Claude always ‘ad ‘is eye out looking at the ladies. Claude was quite the ladies’ man, and I often felt as if I were in competition weeth some of ‘is other girls. They would swoon over ‘im for ‘is art. ’E would promise to make them famous, and they could not resist ‘is charms. I suppose I was no deeferent.

“I wanted to marry ‘im, and ‘e said that ‘e anted to marry me too, but ‘e never got around to doing so. It was one of the theengs that kept us apart over the years. The day never seemed to come when Claude would want to settle down.

“Well, a woman can only wait so long for a man, even the one she loves weeth all of ‘er ‘eart. I grew tired of waiting. I met Emile during a time when Claude and I were apart. Emile swept me off my feet, and before I knew it, we were married.

“Emile was a wealthy man, and many years older than I. He deed business with the Arabs over oil. Even weeth all that I ‘ad learned from Claude in all our years together, Emile opened up many more doors for me. All of a sudden I was immersed in ‘is world; traveling to exotic places and meeting powerful people. It was all quite dizzying for a young woman from a simple place, but it was wonderful.

“I was very comfortable in the life that ‘e provided. Emile gave me almost everything a woman could want. I ‘ad money, fine clothes and expensive jewelry. But as time went by I realized that I was a mere trophy for ‘im. There was leetle love in the marriage, and I soon began to pine for my Claude.

“I began to model for ‘im again. Emile deed not object since he felt it gave ‘im greater status to be married to a model. What ‘e deed not know, but may ‘ave suspected, is that Claude and I began our love affair anew. This time we were more passionate than ever.

“Our affair lasted many years. You are an American, so for you it would seem very strange, but in France a man or woman may ‘ave a lover other than one’s spouse for many years. Some even ‘ave many lovers all at once. For me there was only Claude. We kept it secret for a long time, and we enjoyed every minute.

“We made love in the studio whenever Claude painted me. Once Claude tried ‘is talent at clay, and we wound up covered in clay. Claude never finished that statue.

“But I was still another man’s wife. And when that man felt that ‘e ‘ad been made a fool of, ‘e lost all control.

“’I will kill him!’ ‘e raged. I was very scared for Claude. I knew that Emile was very, very angry, and I deed theenk that he could kill my Claude.

“The night that Emile made the threat, I snuck out of our ‘ouse and went to see Claude to warn ‘im.

“I pleaded weeth Claude to leave Paris. I pleaded weeth ‘im to go to Amsterdam where ‘e ‘ad a brother.

“’I will not go, Madeline,’ ‘e told me. ‘I am tired of hiding, and I will not run away.’

“’Do not be foolish,’ I said to ‘im. ‘Please go before my ‘usband finds you.’

“There was no knock at the door. It just burst in, and into the room stormed Emile. ‘E ‘ad a gun in ‘is ‘and. ‘E pointed it at Claude and threatened ‘im.

“’Take your hands off my wife’ ‘e yelled. ‘Step away from her.’ Emile called ‘im vicious names.

“I stepped between them, my ‘usband and my truest love. ‘Please Emile, no,’ I cried. ‘Leave ‘im alone. I will leave ‘im. I will come back to you. Please leave ‘im alone.’

“Claude protested, ‘No, we shall not be apart. This man does not even love you, he only wants to possess you, like an object; something to enhance his status. I love you, and we should never be apart.’

“Claude charged at Emile. They fought over the gun. I screamed out of the window calling for the gendarmes, but none came fast enough. They struggled for the gun and it went off. Emile stood weeth the gun in ‘is ‘and. Claude dropped to the floor. ‘E was dead.”

I was stunned. I sat on the bed, naked, with my jaw dropped down into my lap. My head was light and the room seemed to spin after Madeline told me the story. It was just so intense: the tragic love triangle. Madeline was propped on one elbow, and she looked back towards the painting.

“Emile went to prison. ‘E is no longer weeth us. I was left alone, comfortable if not incredibly rich for Emile ‘ad partners who divided much of the business. I wanted to leave Paris. I wanted to leave France and never return. The memories were so painful.

“I took the art that Claude ‘ad left behind, especially the nude ‘e ‘ad painted that ‘angs above my bed. I moved ‘ere to America, and in time I started my life again. I ‘ad learned much about business from Emile. Most of what I ‘ave now is what I earned.

“C’est la vie. Life goes on and you learn to conquer new challenges.”

I had to say something. I could not just lay there dumb. I felt like I had to offer some sort of comfort or condolence to her. But what the hell does someone say to something like this.

“Are you okay?”What the fuck am I saying? She didn’t stub her toe, she just poured out her heart, you fucking imbecile.

“I am fine, Cherie.” She smiled as she brushed her fingers along my chest, scrapping hers nails lightly across my nipples.

“I mean, after all these years…well…do you find yourself, I don’t know…crying over it all?” I asked.

“Sometimes, but not very often. It was a long time ago, in a place now far away. I ‘ave my memories, and they are mostly ‘appy ones.”

I took her hand and held it. I never felt like I had to reassure someone before, but I could see in her eyes she was not about to start crying. It was her life. She had dealt with whatever pain she had, and while her memories were undoubtedly strong she had certainly moved on. Now she was seducing young America carpenters in lingerie shops.

“You are sweet to express such concern, but it is misplaced, Cherie,” she said.

“Really?” I replied.

“Oui. This is not a night about sadness. This ‘as been a night about ‘appiness; n’est pas?”

“I’m happy if you’re happy,”

“I am very ‘appy, mon amore. Tonight, I ‘ave been ‘appy ‘ere weeth you.”

We made love again that night. This time Madeline rode me until I came inside her. She stroked my face with her champagne colored panties and caressed my body with her long crimson nails, but this time something felt different. Getting to know her more personally through her story, I felt like there was a greater connection. There was greater passion as our bodies melded together.

Madeline put my clothes in the dryer. In a little while I would be ready to go home, late though it was. We lay in her bed naked, holding each other, kissing and caressing. Madeline kept murmuring little things in French into my ear. I did not know what she was saying, but I did not care. It was a wonderful night.

When the dryer buzzed to announce that my clothes were dry I got them and dressed.

“Thees is for you, Cherie.” She handed me a check. “It is for the work downstairs.”

I tucked it into my shirt pocket.

“And these are for the work upstairs.” With that she handed me the three pairs of panties that we made part of our lovemaking that night. I was not expecting that.

“But…I didn’t think that…” the sentence just stopped there. Madeline placed another kiss on my mouth and prevented me from speaking further.

“I told you that I would ‘elp you,” she said. “And now I know what makes you tick. So I am giving these to you. Keep them as a memory. They are special.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I looked at her and decided to kiss her myself. Wrapping my arms around her body, I pulled her close to me mindful to hold her gently, as she had taught me. I kissed her warm moist mouth and this time I probed her with my tongue.

“Mmm, Vincent,” she said as our lips parted.

“Yes, Madeline,” I answered.

“You are a very quick learner, Cherie.”

***

The ride home was one hell of a trip. I was bouncing on cloud nine. I could not think straight. I was so fucked up that I started heading in the wrong direction after I pulled away from Madeline’s store, The French Boutique.

I did not get four blocks before I ran a red light. At such a late hour that it should not have mattered, but I got pulled over by a traffic cop.

“License and registration,” he said.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

“Yeah, you just blew through that red light back there.”

“Oh. Sorry. I guess I didn’t see it.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, couldn’t be better.”

“You been drinking?”

“Not for a while.”Shit, that was stupid.

“Son, you want to step out of the car. I’m going to initiate a field sobriety test.”

“Uh, uh-huh.”

I got out of the car, followed his finger with my eyes, walked a straight line heels to toes, and then blew into his breathalyzer gizmo. I passed, and he let me get back in the car.

“I’m only going to issue a warning for the light since it’s so late.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, sure. I think I pulled you over once before, a while back.”

“Hey, now that you mention it I think you did.”

“Well look kid, try to keep your mind on the road. You coming home from a date or something?”

“Yeah. Yes, I am,” I answered.

“Well, try to think of the road more than the girl. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Is this guy fucking crazy?

“Have a good night, son.”

“You too, officer.”

For the rest of the drive home I had six words rolling around in my head.

Don’t I know you from somewhere? Don’t I know you from somewhere? Don’t I know you from somewhere? Don’t I know you from somewhere? Don’t I know you from somewhere?

I pulled the car into the driveway at my house. I sat in the car spending a few moments thinking about Madeline and the night of love making that we shared. I got out of the car and started walking towards the door. It was late and the streetlight was flickering over the entrance to my house. All of a sudden for no reason I had one moment of perfect clarity.

Don’t I know you from somewhere?

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” I said out loud.

Don’t I know you from somewhere?

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” I said again. “Son of a bitch. That cop is the guy who left the store before Madeline got a hold of me.”

I thought that I had recognized that guy from somewhere.

***

I slipped into the house unnoticed by my family. One of the benefits of being a college man is that they were not surprised that I would be out after everyone went to sleep.

I ensconced myself in my bedroom, secure in the privacy I had for the rest of the night. I stripped down to my shorts to go to bed. I had wanted to just roll over and go to sleep, but sleep was impossible that night. I would spend the entire night awake and staring at the ceiling.

I pulled my shorts off and ran my fingers up and down my manhood. It was not long before it returned to its hardened state. I took the panties that Madeline had given me that night and wrapped the burgundy garment around my shaft to stroke myself through the soft material.

I sniffed at the champagne colored panties. I took in the scent of Madeline’ body. The smell was the same as it had been earlier. My cock twitched at the scent. I sniffed again and again. I pumped my erection and pressed her damp silk panties into my face. I took in a deep breath.

The memory of sliding into her body and making love to her came back to me. All the emotions that raced through my mind connected me to the wonderful night of passion that I had just experienced.

I sniffed again and thought of licking Madeline’s clitoris through the same panties. I sniffed again and thought of kneeling before her, kissing her. Another sniff and I remembered the exquisite feeling of her pussy as she lowered herself onto my body. Each whiff carried a familiar feeling.

I felt a surge building within. I was able to stop in time to grab a condom that I had secreted in a drawer. It was the last one. I thought it a more than worthwhile sacrifice. I put the condom on, and then I resumed stroking.

I sniffed again and again at Madeline’s damp panties. Her story about Claude and Emile, her instructions to be slow and gentle, the warmth of her fingers and flesh began to race through my mind uncontrolled. I pumped harder and harder.

As I rubbed Madeline’s panties across my cheek I exploded one last time for the night. I pumped until it hurt to continue stroking.

Finished with my latest orgasm, I removed the condom and tied it in a knot. I tossed it into the drawer. I put the new panties, including the damp ones, in the drawer with all the others that Aunt Sherrie, Patti, and Bambi had given me.

What have you ladies gotten me into?

I reminisced over the past fantasies I had of my aunt and her sisters. I handled every pair of panties in the drawer thinking about Patti and her hand fetish, Sherrie and her fetish for men’s erections making tents in their trousers, and Bambi and whatever her purported wild side was all about. These women were all so sexy, and there were so many panties in the drawer now.

I took out the special blue panties, the one’s that are the color of Gail’s eyes. I clenched them in my hand. I rolled over and stared at a picture of her that I kept near the bed.

I tried in vain to fall asleep that night. There were too many thoughts to sort out. Sorting out all my thoughts and feelings would take quite some time, as I was to discover.