Bride of the Revolution Read Online Free PDF Page B

poor though she was, had been very strict in her upbringing and a lewd suggestion such as this shocked the sheltered girl.
    â€˜To feel the delicate smoothness of the skin, taste the purity of its fountain, the warm creaminess… to delve that lovely little tongue tip into its depths.’
    Again Grace heard the young man groan and she ventured a look at his cock. It looked so thick and long, almost angry, with its head moist and the pinkness darkening to purple.
    At this point madame bent her elegantly coiffured and powdered head and brushed her lips across Grace’s sex. The moist tip of the older woman’s tongue probed the trembling lips apart and the feeling which quivered through her body was wrong, she knew, but she could not help but delight in her own shame. The girl shuddered, but her natural feelings could not prevent a new spread of heat across her lower belly. Madame stiffened her tongue, curled it into a silky cylinder.
    Again Philipe groaned. Eyes open to their fullest, Grace glanced towards him over madame’s shoulder. His graceful hands slicked up and down the spear of flesh at his groin. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted as he panted his pleasure.
    Madame, her eyes gleaming, raised her head. ‘Pout your lips, my precious, cosset my tongue,’ she said in a low and seductive voice.
    Bewildered, Grace creased her smooth brow. Her narrow shoulders lifted in a scarcely perceptible shrug. ‘I do not understand,’ she whispered.
    â€˜Ah, so deliciously prim,’ sighed madame, and stuck out her tongue, a smooth and dripping scarlet rod of tissue looking, Grace realised, like Philipe’s cock.
    â€˜ Comme ma bouche ?’ she said softly, tracing the perfection of her soft lips with the tip of a slender, but grubby, finger.
    â€˜ Oui ,’ sighed madame. ‘ La bouche .’
    The thought of her task caused Grace’s breasts to swell, become tender and the brown tips become hard as little stones. The place between her legs became hotter and more liquid. Her hand parted the tatters of her gown and eased down over the swell of her belly. Her fingers trembled and her dark eyes darted to madame, asking a nervous and silent permission to ease the delicious tension as she did in the darkness of the night in her mother’s hovel.
    A smile wreathed madame’s plump cheeks but, Grace noticed, the smile did not reach her eyes. A chill struck deep into the girl’s heart and, fearful, she replaced her hands on her head.
    â€˜Splendid!’ The word was like a whiplash. ‘ Maintenant … now… la bouche !’ The long pink tongue, stiff and gleaming with spittle, protruded from the lips once more.
    Grace formed her lips into that soft and perfect O and raised herself until her face was exactly opposite madame’s painted and powdered visage. She felt warm arms encircle her slender, almost naked, body. An exotic perfume enveloped her, making her head reel. Slowly, she engulfed the tube and began to suck.
    More than aware that Philipe was watching the scene with feverish eyes, Grace felt her face and breasts suffuse with heat. The kiss was so intimate with her lips sliding rhythmically back and forth along the silky, throbbing length that she could almost imagine that she was indeed petting Philipe’s cock. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to her task and the woman who held her and caressed the throbbing swell of her breasts, the vulnerable pouch of her sex and the firm mounds of her buttocks until Grace was lost in a mist of delightful desire.
    Her eyes were heavy as she gave the woman a look which pleaded for more; much more. She turned the look to Philipe and the cock he still petted with aristocratic fingers. It looked so much more inviting than those of the horrible men who attacked her in the cemetery. Yes! She should caress that cock with her mouth; could worship it with her body.
    The carriage came to a halt and the girl