Rhine Maiden Ch 02 Time And Again

All Sexual Activity In This Story Occurs Between Characters Who Are 18+ Years Old.

Philippe Pique smiled at his niece and ward, Trang Nguyen Pique. Patting his chest, he said, "I have my present for you just here in my coat pocket. I was saving it for later, but since Desmoiselles Corbin will need information from you if they are not to be late to the bahnhof, perhaps it is well to give it to you now."

"Oh, Popo! You are too mysterious," Trang protested. She kissed his smooth-shaved cheek lightly and demanded, "Don't tease me! I want it right away. S'il te plaît!"

Instantly, Nadine and Nanine Corbin, and Dagmar Bjerke, concurred at the same time, "Oui! D'accord! Offrez-lui sa autre cadeau!"

The three eighteen-year-old school chums attending Trang's own small eighteenth birthday party at her Oncle Philippe's townhouse in Basel, bolted from their chairs around his great oak dining table. Before the forty-six-year-old industrialist could even think, they had clustered around him and their honoree pal. On the one hand, he did not mind their warm soft bodies squirming at all angles against him. On the other, he worried that his reactive prick would declare itself in an embarrassing way.

Before anything more obvious developed in his trousers, Philippe raised his hands and laughed aloud, "Bien! Suffisant!" Reaching inside his suit jacket, he pulled out a gift-wrapped box. Unlike the small cardboard cubes which had contained the cloisonné chalet pendants that he had given to all the girls as party favors, this package was long, narrow and thin. He handed it to his niece and declared, "There you go, ma petite. Happy birthday!"

The three visiting school friends clapped victoriously as Trang took possession of her package. Wrinkling her brow, she stared at its pink-and-gold tissue and tied scarlet ribbon bow as she wondered, "What could it be? Surely not another necklace. A bracelet, perhaps?"

Nanine impatiently stamped her foot and demanded, "Oh, open it, Winnie! Don't waste time with guesses!"

Obliging her chum, Trang ripped into the tissue and uncovered a hinged gold-and-alligator-leather box which opened to further reveal a gold ladies' Longines wristwatch resting on black velvet lining. Philippe knew by the multiple 'oohs' and 'aaahhs' that he heard, that he had scored a hit. Trang placed the elegant box reverently on the table, then held the sparkling gold timepiece up to reflect the dining room chandelier's brilliant crystals. With tears welling in her eyes, she choked out, "C'est... magnifique, Popo! Oh! Merci, beaucoup!"

In the moment, Trang must have forgotten that her party dress had been opened in the back, then partially pulled down, so that her obliging uncle could put her new chain and pendant around her neck. As she stood abruptly from her chair, she spun ninety degrees left to hug Philippe. The swift motion unsettled her loosened bodice such that underneath it her silver silk camisole slipped below her otherwise naked pert breasts. The calamity was then doubled when her stiffened burnt umber nipples rode up against the gown's peacock-blue crêpe fabric, popped clear of the ruffled lace neck and then created little nests for themselves in his suit coat's thick wool.

While Trang clasped her hands behind Philippe's back and continued to sob her gratitude for the gift she held in her clutched fingers, she was not yet cognizant of her deshabille. He, however, was only too keenly aware of the small firm hot mounds pressing through his clothes to his stomach. Collapsing his arms around the trembling birthday girl, he spoke quietly over her head to Dagmar, "There has been a small wardrobe failure, Mademoiselle Bjerke. Could you please assist my niece to repair it while I turn away?"

Assuming a positive response, Philippe about-faced within Trang's hug and took the Longines from her hands as her Norwegian classmate pivoted her in the opposite direction. Quickly enough Trang's modesty was restored and Dagmar announced that all was well again. Philippe let out a held breath, opened his eyes and said, as if nothing awkward had happened, "Et bien, ma petite. Give me your left wrist and let's try on your new watch." Smiling broadly, he added, "The gold is eighteen karat and the jeweler etched your birthdate on the back of the case."

Trang held out her arm for a full ten minutes while she and the girls admired the mellow shining gold band and bright housing around the crystal. Suddenly Nanine noticed the watch face showed it was six o'clock and she piped up, "Say, aren't we going to have cake?"

Nadine chimed in, "And wine! May we have champagne? We had champagne for our big birthday!"

Before Philippe could deny them, Trang and Dagmar solidified the request and he realized he was beaten. Hoping he could lay off any blame on the house staff, he answered, "Well, I don't know. I'll have to see if the Lindts left any chilling in the kitchen before they went for their weekend in the country." As he left the dining room the twins giggled.

When Philippe returned, carrying with him a bottle of Moët et Chandon Dom Pérignon 1921 wrapped in a forest green linen cloth in a silver bucket, he announced, "Well, Eric anticipated that I might entertain this weekend and, indeed, I found a champagne he brought from the cellar. Ursula thoughtfully left it chilling in the icebox. I also saw sauerbraten and spaetzle which should warm up nicely for us later."

As he set the bucket on the table and moved to the oak sideboard for stemware, Philippe informed the teens, "This is the premier vintage for this particular champagne, which I have not myself tried, but understand is highly regarded. Now, the bottle itself is a magnum, which is twice as big as an ordinary bottle, and so, ladies, I caution us all not to think we must drink until it is gone."

Philippe chuckled softly, "I would not want any of you to be too fuzzy to think!" In his head, he heard a strange deep voice niggle, "But it would be alright if a certain girl got a little too fuzzy, wouldn't it?" Turning from the hutch, he pushed away the nasty uninvited suggestion as he pushed the glasses around to the party guests and then uncorked the cuvée.

The outgoing Nadine cried, "Hourra! The top hit the ceiling!" Her impish younger twin's eyes twinkled as she assured Philippe, "Do not worry for us, Monsiuer. Deenee and I have been drinking wine with meals since we were twelve!" Dagmar, not wishing to be seen as inexperienced, interjected, "Well, my Papa has given me akevitt to drink. That is stronger than any wine, so I am not afraid of a little champagne!" Trang, who had never before imbibed alcohol, cast her eyes downward and said shyly, "Thank you, Popo, for the advice. I will be careful."

After filling the flutes with bubbly, Philippe said, "You don't need an old fellow like me hanging around and spoiling your fun, so let me raise a small toast to my niece and then I'll retire to my sitting room upstairs." Lifting his glass toward Trang, he smiled and said, "You have grown so much since I have known you, ma petite, and you are sure to grow even more. May all your experiences be wonderful!" Then he took a long sip and watched over the glass rim as the girls did likewise. Excusing himself, he pointed to the cake and serving cutlery on the sideboard as he said, "Help yourselves, and call me when you are ready for me to heat up your suppers."

In less than three-quarters-of-an-hour the three-layer devil's food cake had been reduced to a few crumbs and melted ganache stains on the girls' linen napkins. More significantly, the happy teens did, in fact, finish the Dom Pérignon to its last drop. While the more experienced young ladies paced themselves and drank slowly, Trang was taken by the sweet-tart fizz. She quickly finished her first flute, followed it with two more, which were each filled to the brim, and then managed to sneak the magnum's last half-glass for herself as she poured her friends' second glasses.

Dagmar was first to spot Trang lolling in her chair with a glazed look in her normally bright blue almond eyes. Stepping around the table corner, she placed her hands on the listing teen, steadied her in her seat and inquired gently, "Comment ça va?

At the other end of the dining table, the Corbin twins quit giggling together at whatever secret conspiracy they might have been devising and looked up. Nadine asked, "What's the matter?" Then she snickered, "Did Winnie's dress slip again?"

Nanine, more perceptively, bumped her elbow into her sister's ribs and corrected, "Silly! Can't you see, Deenee? Elle est ivre!"

Trang lifted her head weakly and untruthfully protested the charge. "No, I am not... not... drunk. Jus' a little... tired." She touched her hand to her tummy and added, "An'... woozy. I had too big a piece... of the... cake." Speaking so many words, even slowly, exhausted her. She dropped her head to her chest and closed her eyes.

Nadine scoffed, "Ha! Too much champagne, too fast, she meant! She'll be sorry, for sure!"

Dagmar jumped in protectively and scolded, "Don't be mean, Deenee! I am going to help her to her room where she can rest. Go tell Monsieur Pique the party is over. We all should leave."

The twins looked at each other shamefaced and then Nadine said to her sister, "C'est vrai, Neenee. Daggy is right. I was wrong to be catty. Let's go find her uncle."

As Dagmar helped her besotted charge wobble to her feet, she assured her, "I'll be with you all the way to your bed, Winnie. Just move your feet slowly and I'll be your guide. Do you know where is your room?"

Trang, who was fading fast, nodded and said almost inaudibly, "Top floor... down hall... to back..."

By the time the pair reached the ornate brass birdcage elevator Dagmar was all the more appreciative of the younger girl's petite frame and light weight. As they moved along the third floor corridor from the landing to the rear of the townhouse, however, Trang doubled over, grabbed at her stomach and yelped, "Sick!"

Dagmar quickly corrected their course, pushed Trang through the doorway to the close at hand main bathroom and maneuvered her to the toilet just in time. As the poor girl retched into the porcelain bowl, some vomit bits soiled the lace at her neckline and stained the blue crêpe. When the quaking gut quit erupting, Dagmar tenderly daubed residual smelly flecks from Trang's lips and soothed, "Just stay there like that for a moment, Winnie, while I take away this dress and bring you a nice fresh nightgown. You'll feel much better when we get you into your clean bed."

Meanwhile, Nadine and Nanine were on the alabaster stair ascending to the second floor rooms to search for Philippe. With no knowledge of the townhouse floorplan, the twins turned left at the landing and walked to the rear where they found a huge mirrored music room with a polished parquet dance floor surrounded by purple velvet settees and small marble tables with spindle chairs. At its far end was a black grand piano and cases for stringed instruments laid up against the wall beside metal music stands. Seeing no sign of Monsieur Pique, they retraced their steps to the front of the house.

Two great oak double doors flanked the chessboard-tiled square at the front of the house. The twins tested the closest pair and discovered Philippe's fine library. A massive dark wood bookcase laden with leather-bound tomes filled the long wall across from them. They had never before seen a private library which required a ladder to reach its upper shelves. Scattered through the room were leather-topped wood study tables and assorted comfortable chairs, all upholstered in leather or silk, but none of which contained their host.

Leaving the library to cross the open foyer between the elevator and the townhouse's street-side floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows, the exploring sisters tried the second set of oak double doors. The sitting room they entered was nearly as large as the library. To their left were two bay windows fronting the street while to their right a dark paneled wall was hung with tapestries between two smaller doors. The wood plank floor was thickly carpeted with vivid red-cream-and-blue wool Persian rugs. Like in all the other large rooms they had seen, multi-armed crystal chandeliers provided the main light which caused every dusted polished glass and wood surface to gleam brilliantly.

Increasingly hushed by their awe at the opulence of each discovered room, the girls advanced with their jaws agape. They held hands as they silently approached a big red leather wing-back armchair and dark walnut end table facing the tapestried wall. In front of the chair was a pecan olive-and-gold brocade silk upholstered seating arrangement consisting of two sofas with small drum-style end tables between and beside them. As they neared the red chair, they saw Philippe's elbow resting on the chair arm and they moved around to stand more or less at attention before him.

Philippe smiled at the uniformed long-haired bookends facing him, then put the history he was reading down on the end table beside him, next to his empty champagne flute, as he greeted them, "Allô! Are we ready for me to warm up the sauerbraten?" Tarrying while he looked up and eyed their starched shirtfronts, from their eight-centimeters-wide black patent leather belts' simple gold-tone buckles to their unbuttoned throats, he noted anew how Nanine's beauty mark mole nestled provocatively above her new cloisonné chalet pendant. On Nadine's round chin, just under her pouty lower lip, he saw that a chocolate smudge had escaped her napkin. He could not help wanting to kiss one dark spot and to lick away the other; nor could his prick help its thickening as his pulse raced.

"Non, Monsieur Pique," replied Nadine. "We are here to tell you something else."

"Yes," added, Nanine. She tried unsuccessfully not to smirk as she continued, "Trang drank too much champagne..."

Nadine interjected, "...She was very, um, sleepy. But, everything is okay; Dagmar has taken her up to bed..."

"...And we all decided the party was over," concluded Nanine.

Philippe nodded his understanding, even as his attention necessarily shifted to focus on the twins. Their hips subtly swayed and their skirts' pleated hems brushed their kneecaps as they traded off delivering the news. He fought himself to keep from reaching out and pulling them into him by their bottoms. His fattening cock was no ally in his battle.

Nadine carried on, "Anyway, we thought we should thank you for your hospitality and telephone for a taxi to the bahnhof."

Abruptly, Nanine stepped forward, grabbed Philippe's left hand with both of hers and pulled him until he stood from his chair. Continuing toward him until her chest lightly touched his opened jacket's buttons, she impishly intoned, "Plus tôt, en bas, on a vu ton verge s'épaissir comme celui de nos papa."

Immediately, Nadine flanked her sister then shot her left hand between Philippe's legs. As she cradled his testes and pressed them up against his swelling joint, she breathed, "You were looking at us when you gave us our presents and we would have been blind not to notice your dick getting hard. Just like it is doing now."

Philippe did not know what to say or do as he watched Nanine release his hands and then release his trousers' waist button. Firmly fixing her dark brown irises on his own unblinking eyes, she asked with amazing innocent neutrality, "Shall we show you how Papa taught us to thank him for the special presents that he gives us?"

It was just as well that Nadine did not wait for an answer to her twin's question, because Philippe's constricted throat only permitted him to make unintelligible guttural noises while she slid her hand higher, undid his belt buckle and then pulled down his zipper tab. Meanwhile, Nanine pushed his pants off his hips and then followed up with his boxers. As his garments cascaded to his ankles, his formerly flaccid penis filled Nadine's hand. Nanine caressed circles on his naked glutes and remarked quietly, "I think he is saying, 'Yes, please!' What do you think, Deenee?"

Nadine knelt as she commented, "Your little head is not so little now, Popo. And it begs to be kissed!" Without further ado, she pursed her lips and planted a wet smack on Philippe's winking slit, then slipped his whole plump pulsing glans past her teeth. He groaned as her tongue compressed the sensitive spade's flesh to her palate. She moaned her delight and sucked harder.

Nanine edged her stance to the left to give her sister more room to work. At the same time, she traced her left index finger from Philippe's anus, through the curly forest lining his ass crack, to his balls. Scratching them from behind with her lacquered nail, she simultaneously jammed her thumb into his rectum. He ejaculated, "My God! What are you girls doing to me?" But, of course, his tightening nuts and the spewing hot semen he felt evacuating his nozzle were answer enough to his question.

While Nanine pressured Philippe's prostate and tickled his throbbing eggs, Nadine finished drawing their ultimate essential dram, then noisily popped his sloppy spent mushroom from her drooling lips. Sticking out her tongue, she gleaned jism gobs from the corners of her mouth, and in so doing, also erased the melted ganache he had seen on her chin. Proud to have so rapidly emptied him, she tipped back her head and exclaimed triumphantly, "Voilà! Papa never has come so hard and fast as that!"

"C'est vrai, Deenee," Nanine condeded. "But,we have never been had such a close deadline before, either. We had to finish before Dagmar discovered us!" She twittered a small laugh, then kissed Philippe's cheek and asked, "That would have been bad, would it not, Popo?"

Nadine stood up, bringing Philippe's shorts and trousers with her as she rose. While she re-assembled his attire, she asked conversationally, "Where is the telephone, Popo?"

Philippe had no more volition to act or speak than a mannequin, but he managed to nod toward his left to small desk. Nanine smiled, and whispered to him, "Merci, beaucoup! The next time we visit, it will be my turn." As she left to call for a cab, she pinched his butt and said, "Deenee has set a challenging mark for us to shoot at!"

In retrospect, Philippe thought the expression 'speak of The Devil' had never been more apt. It seemed only moments after Dagmar's name was mentioned that she walked through the sitting room door and said, "Ah! So this is where you are! I've found you at last!"

From the phone, Nanine called out, "Do you want to share our taxi, Daggy?"

Dagmar's glossy light cinnamon color mid-neck length hair fluttered about her ears as she shook her head 'no' and answered, "I'll get one for myself later, thanks." When she reached the sofas, she fell, as if tired, onto the center cushion of the longer couch and said, "Trang is asleep in her bed, Monsieur Pique, but she may have a headache in the morning!" Then, turning her face to Nadine, she asked, "What's happened to your lipstick? It's all smeared."

Despite herself, Nadine blushed as she hurriedly replied, "It's nothing, Daggy. I found some frosting and cleaned it, is all." She cast a sidelong glance at Philippe to see if he would contradict her by word or gesture. He, however, had his own fears.

When Dagmar flopped onto the three-seater, her ankles crossed while her knees separated most indelicately. The resultant direct sight up her skirt slammed into Philippe's brain. At her sturdy pink thighs' junction, snow white panties hugged her thick-lipped cunt's long center crease. Notwithstanding Nadine's efficient blowjob, his nuts ached as if they had never been drained.

Philippe guiltily stole a glance at his own crotch and prayed his incipient second hard-on would go away unseen while he half-mumbled, "Merci, Mademoiselle Bjerke. You were kind to take care of my niece."