Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 15byParis Waterman©
Thanksgiving 1983, the Elopement
Once she realized she was pregnant, Val called her mother and told her. Being a practical woman, Mrs. Fitzgibbon suggested elopement as the most viable means of resolving Val's predicament. Of course, she was also thinking of the family's social status and how that would be affected with a pregnant bride walking down the aisle.
"But Mother, I've always dreamed of a big wedding..." Val whined.
"Of course you have," her mother agreed. "But from a practical standpoint, you can't traipse down the aisle with a big belly."
"I know, I know," Val sobbed.
Seizing the initiative, her mother continued. "You know we can't possibly get a wedding date at the church for at least six months. I mean, I was only talking about wedding dates with Stacy Rhodes the other day. Do you recall Stacy?"
"Isn't she the organist at church?" Val whimpered.
"Yes... yes, she is," her mother said, and then continued. "She told me how crowded the schedule is for the remainder of the year."
"Aren't there other..."
"Perhaps, but we have to consider our social standing. We couldn't possibly have the wedding in another church. Think of what people would say."
Mrs. Fitzgibbon really had no idea what people would say, but pressed on, telling Val she would talk with the pastor and see if certain arrangements might be made on her behalf.
Joe's parents were more practical and taking their own social status into consideration they knew that on short notice, things might become complicated enough to warrant their intervention.
So, although they fully realized the bride's family was responsible for making the necessary arrangements, they decided to bribe the kids with a wedding present involving them going to Paris, and getting married there, without either set of parents present.
Mrs. Fitzgibbon took the news of the Paris elopement well. It's the best way out of what could be a nasty dilemma, she told herself, and ran up the stairs to Val's room to give her the news.
Of course, Val had already heard the news from Joe, but pretended for her mother's sake, and they hugged one another, and then Val jumped up and down, feigning delight at the trip to Paris, although in her heart of hearts, she had wanted a Wilmington wedding to make all her friends jealous when they saw her in her wedding dress.
Val tried to hide her disappointment at not having the big wedding she'd always dreamed of as they boarded the plane for New York at the Wilmington airport. But it took one look at her face for Joe to know how she really felt. And so, he did what he thought the right thing and plied her (and himself) with Champagne and other liquors. Eventually they fell off into a drunken slumber, and failed to do what they had promised Bernie they would do enroute, join the Mile High club.
The honeymooning couple stayed at the Villa Modigliani, a delightful hotel situated in the heart of Paris' Montparnasse district. Joe's father had told him that it was the perfect spot from which to explore the magnificent city of Lights; however it rained their first four days in Paris and they never got to the gardens of Versailles, or the exquisite Jardin du Luxmebourg.
The second day they stood in the rain for three hours to get into the Louvre Museum. And then found that they were too tired to walk through the entire tour and left, greatly disappointed. They did, however, manage to see the three great ladies the famous museum houses: the Venus de Milo, the Victory of Samothrace, and of course, the Mona Lisa.
They ate well, and from Val's perspective, perhaps too well, for she gained four pounds the first week and basically fasted for the remainder of her honeymoon. Joe didn't care about adding any weight, but nevertheless, took advantage of the workout facilities the hotel offered and held his gain to two pounds. The accommodations, on the other hand, were elegant, and Val and Joe made the best of the constant rain by making love in each of the rooms in their suite.
The antique clock on the mantle had just struck seven in the evening. Val heard it from the bath, where she had just showered, and was gazing at her figure, looking for traces of her pregnancy. She breathed a sigh of relief on detecting no bulge. Not yet, thank God, she thought, and then studied her breasts as they rode high on her chest.
She smiled Mona Lisa-like on seeing her nipples extended in arousal at the mere thought of what she would be seeing at the sex show that night. Joe had refused, well to be specific; he had told her he didn't know what they would see. But that whatever it was it would involve men and women having sex. He sent a chill down her spine when he added, "And we'll have a front row seat."
Her eyes scanned downward, quickly flicked past the flat, hard belly to the dark, thick pubic hair that covered her cunt. It lay in a mat and she idly ran her fingers through it to pull it out to its fullest. It was as thick as the hair on her head and when she walked without panties on, she could feel it brush between her legs and it always excited her.
God, she thought, everything excited her. Ever since she'd accidentally discovered that practically anything touching her skin was enough arouse her. The first time it happened, Val had inadvertently inserted one of her sister's tampons to stem the flow of her period. What she didn't know at the time was that her sister had an exceptionally large vagina and required the largest size tampon available, while Val needed the smallest. It acted in a dual capacity on Val's behalf: stemming the flow of her menstrual cycle, and more importantly, acted almost as if she were using Ben-Wa balls inside her. For while Ben-Wa balls roll with the motion of one's body and titillate the nerve endings along the vaginal walls, the tampon, saturated with her menstruations, swelled to an even larger proportion, and with every step taken, made contact with the most sensitive parts of her sexual glands in much the same way, keeping her level of arousal at the highest pitch with each and every step she took.
That particular day, she'd had a terrific orgasm walking from the family car to Church. The friction between her legs as she walked on that cold winter day set her clit tingling, giving her what felt like tiny electric shocks each time a leg swung forward. At the end of just one block, she was breathing hard and could feel her nipples compressed so tightly against her bra cups that she thought they might poke their way through the filmy material.
Embarrassed and confused, Val was halfway up the Church steps when it hit her, and she almost passed out as it started between her legs and passed up her body. She grabbed the railing that ran up the center of the steps and caught herself before she fell.
Val's mother noticed her strange behavior and mistakenly attributed it to the large Hershey bar she had caught Val eating the night before. Actually, Val was only nibbling on a small section, preferring to horde the remainder for those times her sweet-tooth made its stringent demands on her.
As Val reached the top step and the entrance to the Church, a second orgasm ripped through her, more powerful than the first. Her father grasped her by the elbow and whispered "Are you all right?" The concerned expression on his face told her that she had better come up with a good excuse to get out of entering the church. She bought some precious seconds feigning loss of breath; although she really was having some trouble breathing. It helped clear her head, and looking into her father's eyes, blurted, "My period. I just got my period, Dad!"
Confronted by news he never expected to hear, her father took her by the arm and hurried her back to the car without a word to her mother, who was already busy seating herself and Val's sister Heather. He drove Val home, helped her to her bedroom and without another word, returned to the car and drove back to the Church.
From then on, Val discovered that many things could bring her to orgasm. She experimented over every part of her body and spent many a night in her room while studying, rubbing this or that to see what affect it had.
Val picked up her pearl-handled hairbrush and rubbed the end of the handle over her cunt's slit. A purring sound emerged from her throat and her knees buckled. Jesus, am I that close already?
Joe picked that moment to enter the bathroom, intent on relieving himself, but stopped abruptly on seeing the hairbrush in her hand.
"Come with me," he said, with such urgency in his tone that compelled her to follow him.
Joe was amazed that the idea occurred to him as quickly as it had. Photograph her masturbating. He had both a brand new video camera, a wedding present from his mother of all people, and a trusty Polaroid, which he had already used with Val as principal subject, baring her breasts, ala Playboy Magazine photo layouts.
He led her to an antique glass table situated at the point where the foyer met the living room and had her sit down.
Val nodded as she sat down, looked dumbly at the hairbrush in her hand as if recognizing it for the first time and wondering what it was doing there.
"I'm going to take some pictures, Val. The lighting is perfect. It's our honeymoon; we should have something of ourselves as a keepsake. I know you're horny as hell, so go ahead and start. I'll give you instructions as we proceed."
"But you're not in the picture," she protested.
"Not this one, no. But I will be, probably toward the end."
"So what do I do?"
"Lie back on the table and use the hairbrush. I'll start with some Polaroid's, then I'll switch to the video camera."
Val already in a sexual haze followed his instructions, and Joe took several shots of her from a standing position with her inserting the hairbrush into her opening. He was nearing the end of that particular roll of film when it occurred to him that if he lay on the floor he might be able to capture her from a position he'd never seen before, and did so. He got four spectacular shots that he was later told might sell for several thousand dollars. But he knew it would end his marriage, and by that time, several thousand dollars was a drop in the bucket for him. Joe did the wise thing, he put them in a safe deposit box in his bank, and almost forgot about them.
The video was something else again. He made it appear that Val was only beginning her masturbation on the table, but her hand was already shaking so that she dropped the hairbrush. He bent down and quickly placed it back in her hand, only to have her drop it again.
Change of plans, Joe told himself, and in Val's nearby ear, he whispered, "Use your fingers, make that pussy foam with your juices."
Val lay on her back, legs spread, as he circled her, filming away, and then with a soft groan, Val sent first one, then two, and finally three fingers into her slick hole and influencing the sensations already careening along the nerve endings at least five fold.
Although a rank amateur in videoing anything, Joe did get several great shots, including one of Val's face as she reached a climax, and another, seconds later of her lower body arching and jerking upward on the table as she gave herself to the sheer intensity of the pleasure.
By this point, the microphone inside the camera was picking up loud sucking and wet noises from her hand, with Val beyond hearing or caring. She had her head lolling back off the edge of the glass table with her eyes slightly open, but unseeing. Her entire body shuddered and shook several times as another climax ravaged her body, and then appeared to leave her to recover, for she stopped trembling and with great effort and concentration, opened her eyes and said, "Did you just film all that?"
Joe nodded, took his cock out and began to jerk off, but Val slowly rolled off the table, sank to her knees and gave him the best blowjob he'd ever had.
After that they watched television, mostly a silly soap opera, entitled Puree of Garbage, while waiting for nightfall and the sparkling lights of sexual enticement within Paris' nightlife.
For dinner and afterward, Val had bought a slinky, deep red velvety dress with a daring plunge, front and back. It was ankle-length and although slit almost to her waist, hugged her body very nicely. She was quick to point out to Joe that it had to be worn without a bra by scooping her right breast from the dress as easily as taking a pen from one's pocket.
Joe, wearing a tux, smiled; he had promised her an evening she would never forget and she was telling him she expected it to be just that. And ten minutes later they were on their way to one of Paris' finest restaurants.
Following a superb meal, they took a taxi to a discreet building with a tattered French flag dangling sadly from its pole above the closed doors.
Joe rang and knocked twice on the heavy wooden door -- nothing. Val waited then looked up the street and then down before she heard the heavy door squeal as it opened.
"Wee?" said a man in a suit and tie, wearing specially-made glasses that clamped to his ears and hearing aids. He was looking at Joe as if to say, "What are you doing here?"
Joe broke the silence and said, "Marcel sent us. He told me to tell you, Manon expects us."
In English, the man replied, Manon, eh? Very well, come with me."
They climbed a flight of stairs and were ushered into a smallish, darkened theatre, with a stage and enough room to seat about twenty people. Val saw Joe hand the man a handful of Francs, however much it was she knew he was paying an exorbitant amount for this -- entertainment.
They walked slowly, carefully. Joe was well aware of the difficulty Val might have on the uneven wooden flooring with her three-inch heels, and kept his hand in the small of her bare back. In fact, as they were drawing close to their front row seats he slipped his hand down into the red dress and flicked a finger into the crevice of her ass, causing her to laugh aloud and draw stares from the others already in attendance.
They remained seated while the remaining patrons arrived and joined them around the stage, which was circular, and had only two queen-sized beds on it.
The lights already barely lit, went out and a sonorous voice called out in French, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the great privilege to present to you, George and Georgina!"
Twin spotlights circled about the stage until seeming to land on a man and then a woman. The man, presumably George, was totally nude, with an erection of about six inches. He was not all that handsome, but Val would later call him ruggedly handsome. Georgette, on the other hand, was a stunningly petite Asian girl, with just budding breasts and a completely shaven pubis.
Ballet music began to play; neither Val nor Joe recognized it. They later learned that the girl had written the music to accompany her in her sex act with George.
The couple skirted one another, as if appraising the other's mood, or desire. And then, the girl leapt into the man's arms and he raised her above his head. Val was astounded. This was a remarkable display of dance; in fact, it was the best series of movements she had ever seen.
She had to restrain herself from applauding them then and there.
The dance segment of their ballet lasted another minute, and then with both bodies bathed in a light sweat, he lowered her to the bed and as the music segued into a Bolero beat, he collapsed beside her.
They kissed, making certain the audience saw their tongues entwined, and then Georgette gracefully rotated her rear end to his head and put a knee on either side of his face and took his member into her mouth.
Val glanced around her. To her surprise, she found that she was the only woman present other than Georgette.
"Joe, I'm the only woman here!"
"Yes, they mentioned it might turn out that way. Are you alarmed about it? You needn't be. I have their guarantee of complete protection."
Val trusted her husband, and nodded and turned her attention back to the spotlighted bed.
Georgette's mouth never left his cock. But it was George's attack on her cunt that shocked Val. She had expected them to do oral. But what this man was doing to the petite Asian was totally unexpected.
He covered her entire mound with his lips and when she began to writhe on the bed, Val envisioned his tongue snaking all over her slimy cunt lips... her clitoris... and into her cunt.
With an artistry that drew a gasp from his audience, George lifted his face, stuck his tongue out so that all could see and fucked the Asian girl with it.
The Asian girl took his penis from her mouth and taking a deep breath, licked it from his testicles to the hole at the top from which Val could see precum emerging.
Just then the bed began to revolve, and Val discovered that for a short time she shared a fantastic closeness to the sixty-nining couple on the stage. But then, as it moved away from her, presenting others with a similar closeness, she could still see them, but from a distance that brought an ache to her loins.
By the time the bed had turned in her favor again, George had the Asian girls ass spread wide with his thumbs, and was teasing her puckered asshole. And when he spat into it, and followed that by licking the tiny porthole with the tip of his tongue, Val would have sworn the couple was playing to her and her alone.
As the bed continued to revolve, the Asian girls head came into closer view and Val noted that she now had George's balls in her mouth and was working a finger into his rectum.
George did something that caused the Asian girls head to snap back. She yelped, "Oh!" in surprise. And a moment later, returned to fellating him, only to turn her face toward Val a moment later, as she let his erection flop from her mouth.
"Oh, George! Yes! Yes, my ass, eat it! "
Poor George did his level best, but the Asian girl wouldn't, or couldn't remain still enough for him to accomplish what he wanted to do. She finally rolled away from him, but he came with her and then got to his knees and kneeling between her legs and stroking his cock, he cooed, "Come on, Georgette, let's finish our lovely fuck, 'eh?"
Then, with cat-like quickness, he slid into her and she wrapped her legs around his hips and began to fuck him at a frenzied pace.
It wasn't until that moment that Val realized her red dress was up around her hips and Joe had two thick fingers jammed into her cunt, frigging her at about the same speed as George was Georgette.
Val was never quite sure about what followed, but she had a vivid recollection the following day when replaying the events of that night. She was almost certain that her orgasm coincided with that of the Asian girls. What she certainly saw happen in front of her was George pulling his cock out of Georgette just as his ejaculate spurted onto the Asian girl's neck, giving her what Val would learn was called "a pearl necklace."
The lights went out, a brief intermission was announced, and then a dim light returned, causing Val to scramble so as to restore her clothing to some form of decency before the patron's eyes adjusted to the light, such as it was.
The announcer's voice told the twenty or so in attendance that Annette and Lars would be the next pairing to entertain them.
Val was turning to say something to Joe when a warm, moist tongue entered her ear, quickly followed by the whispered words, "Follow me, and we'll do everything!"
From the corner of her eye, Val saw that it was the Asian girl.