Chapter 1: Paris
Lord Marchwood was beginning to regret his decision to embark on a grand tour of Europe. It was getting very cold and his coach rattled abominably over the rutted and potholed Alpine road. He sipped some brandy from his flask and wondered how long it might be before they reached an inn with some decent hot food and a warm bed. However, the scandal engendered by his recent divorce meant that staying in England was an intolerable prospect. He needed to revitalise himself after all the problems of the last few months. He particularly looked forward to revisiting Italy where he hoped he might be able to rediscover his artistic propensities by undertaking some sketching and painting.
He thought back on his journey so far. He had certainly enjoyed his stay in Paris. All the talk had been about the actress Sophie Dancourt, she was feted by all the gentlemen in the city for her beauty. Marchwood had immediately obtained tickets to see her perform with a group of his friends and had been enchanted by her. His friend Monsieur Morrell had even effected an introduction to the delightful Mademoiselle Dancourt and they had trooped into her dressing room after the performance. To Marchwood's surprise Sophie received them in nothing but her chemise and was busy removing her stage make up when they arrived. Even without her make up Marchwood found her stunningly beautiful with huge dark eyes shaded by long lashes and soft sensual lips. Her chemise did little to conceal her plump décolletage and the mounds of her magnificently rounded creamy white bosoms. Marchwood was immediately smitten and left her his card and asked if he might call upon her while he was in Paris.
The next day he arranged for a huge bouquet of flowers to be delivered to her dressing room with a note imploring her to meet him. To his surprise a messenger arrived later in the day with a hand written note informing him that she would call at his hotel the following morning and would be delighted to make his further acquaintance.
Sophie arrived the following morning at Marchwood's suite in a cloud of gardenia scent wearing an exquisite violet silk dress. She accepted a glass of champagne and after chatting for some time agreed to stay for lunch. Marchwood was overwhelmed by the actress's stunning appearance, though the conversation seemed to largely centre on herself and the series of wealthy admirers she had attracted. Marchwood was not deterred; he had determined that he had to have this woman at all costs.
Lunch went perfectly and Sophie pronounced herself satisfied with the sole, she quaffed more champagne and was delighted when she opened the small box which the waiter delivered with her dessert and found an exquisite pair of diamond earrings. When Marchwood suggested over coffee that she might wish to retire to his bedroom after lunch for a little rest he was amazed at her acceptance.
In the bedroom Sophie nonchalantly began to remove her beautiful dress and hung it over a chair. In her chemise she approached Marchwood and removed his jacket, cravat and waistcoat and then kissed him passionately on the lips.
"Are you coming to bed milord," she asked.
Soon they were both fully undressed and Marchwood was able to admire all her charms. Her breasts were simply perfect, plump globes of creamy flesh surmounted by proud erect nipples surrounded by large aureoles. Her belly was smooth, a just slightly rounded expanse of pale skin contrasting starkly with the dark triangle of thick hair at its base. They lay together kissing for a while, though when Sophie caressed his mouth with her tongue it was curiously lacking in passion. Marchwood wondered whether the actress was simply insufficiently aroused and began to kiss his way down her body. His tongue and lips caressed those proud nipples and roved across her belly until at last his tongue flicked along the dep valley in the midst of her dark forested mound. Sophie opened her exquisite white thighs and allowed him access to her secret grotto. He circled the hidden bud of her clit and gently probed the pink sheath of her vagina. Most women would have responded in some way to this. Perhaps a murmur of pleasure or the first tricklings of her vaginal secretions but Sophie lay there open to his ministrations but seemingly unresponsive.
"I am sorry milord, the act of love rarely arouses me but if you wish to make love I shall be happy to do so," Sophie suddenly said.
Marchwood raised his head to look into her beautiful dark eyes. "Perhaps you have not just made love in the right way," he suggested. "Turn over and let me try something with you."
Sophie looked a little askance and somewhat reluctantly turned over onto her front. Marchwood began to gently stroke her back arms and legs in an attempt to relax her and after a few minutes Sophie acknowledged that she felt somewhat stimulated by this. Marchwood switched from his fingers to using his tongue to gently kiss and lick his way down her spine while one finger explored her furry slit which was just beginning to moisten. When his tongue reached the base of her spine Marchwood continued his descent roving across the two perfect hillocks of her buttocks and then delving into the deep chasm between them. Sophie gasped at his tongue's invasion of this most private cleft but did not push him away. In fact Marchwood felt sure that as he gently parted her plump cheeks with is free hand and flicked his tongue across the her delicious puckered rosette that there was a small effusion of moisture from her pussy.
"Oh Monsieur what you are doing is tres mechant," groaned Sophie.
Marchwood chose to ignore her and began to circle her rosebud with his tongue while his finger gently stroked her swelling clit. Plunging his finger into her velvet cunny for a moment he realised that the moisture gushing from her source belied her protests. After a little more stimulation, he experimented with probing deeper into her tighter orifice with his tongue. Sophie moaned her approval.
"Ah mon cherie, c'est delicieuse," she cooed.
Marchwood was delighted that he had at last found Sophie's true source of pleasure, especially as it coincided so closely with his own inclinations. He continued to gently thrust in and out of the actress's tiny rear portal all the while maintaining his assault on her gushing pussy.
"Mademoiselle with your permission I would like to make love to your delicious bottom," Marchwood said.
"Oh milord you wish to sodomise me," said Sophie pronouncing the word in the French manner.
"Have you never been taken in that way my dear?" Marchwood asked.
"Oh non, I think it would be very, how do you say, tres douloureux,"
"Non ma Cherie," Marchwood reassured her "there is no pain if the gentleman is truly a gentle man."
"Tres bien, I will try but you must stop if I ask," implored Sophie.
Soon Marchwood had Sophie on her hands and knees. He had found a small pot of unguent which he carried everywhere for such eventualities. It contained a secret compound of vegetable oils and minerals which he had prepared by a London apothecary who declared it as the perfect lubricant for the act of love. He dipped his finger in the pot and gently smeared a little around the Sophie's pink rosette. She flinched a little as the cold ointment made contact with her sensitive entrance. Marchwood found a little more and gently probed her tight sphincter.
Sophie at first resisted his invading digit but then cooed in pleasure as he gently massaged the interior of her rectum with the magical ointment.
"Oh mon dieu, qui est si agréable," gasped Sophie as her anus was gently ravished by his oily finger.
