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From: Don <roscoeny38@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Dancer  Mf 1st  Mf  MFMF  MF
Date: Fri,  4 Apr 2003 04:10:02 -0500
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This story was inspirted the show "Dagas and the
Dance" at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  It is a
work of erotic fiction.  It is intended for the
private enjoyment of the audience.  Any resemblence to
actual people or incidents is purely coincidental. 
Any additional distribution is prohibited without the
expression permission of the commissioner.  No animals
were harmed in writing this story.  
Constructive feedback is welcome, if only to indicate
that someone is reading it.  Flames are not.
Enjoy.
Don

***********************************

	Colette Jardin was simply devastated.   She slumped
in her chair, her head falling on her chest.  Faint
sobs emerged from her small mouth.  How would she tell
her family?   They  had sacrificed for her to attend
school at the ballet at the Paris Opera,  now she had
failed to be admitted to the Corps de Ballet.  Several
dancers, who were no better than she, had qualified,
but she had not.  She could continue for one more year
at the school, but she needed the money.  Her only
option would be to leave the Opera ballet for one of
the many less prestigious companies in Paris or the
provinces, for considerably less money.
	Her friend,  Marie, who had qualified, tried to
sympathize.
	"You're a good dancer, Colette, but you are too
private.  You need to mix more with the others.  You 
need a man who will sponsor you if you want to be
admitted to the Corps."
	"What would a sponsor do?"
	"He would talk to the judges.  Do you think that I
was admitted only on my dancing?   I had help from M.
Jambon."  
	"Why did M. Jambon help you?"
	"I am nice to him, in the special way a girl can be
nice to a rich gentleman."
	Just then, M. Jambon came up to them, and put his arm
around Marie. 
	He said, "You  did very well, my dear.  I am proud of
you.   We can celebrate at the cafe tonight, then go
to our little rendezvous."
	She kissed Jambon sweetly.  "What about Colette?" 
she asked. " She needs cheering up."
	Jambon gave Colette a patronizing stare.  Colette
asked him, "M Jambon, do I need a sponsor like you in
order to be accepted in the Corps de Ballet?"
	"It might help," he said.
	"How do I find one?  If I don't find one, I'll have
to leave the school. I don't have enough money to
continue."
	Even though the school gave Colette a small stipend
to attend,  it did not pay her family enough to
support her.   Her family was very poor, and was
counting on Colette  become a ballerina to help to
support her brothers and sisters.   
	Jambon looked at Colette closely.  She was actually
prettier than Marie, but more serious.  He felt
committed to Marie, at least for the present.   A
gentleman never takes on more than one mistress at a
time.   
	Jambon said, "Perhaps I might find someone to help
you.  Join us for dinner tonight."
	Colette was so happy, she gave him a big kiss.    He
looked at Marie, slightly embarrassed in front of his
lover.   
	Colette had seen men who were season ticket holders
at the ballet often back stage talking to the
ballerinas.   The girls flirted with them because they
were rich.  Colette was naturally shy with the men. 
She was too serious to flirt.  She thought she could
be successful though her talent alone.  But even
though she was a good dancer, she had to be much
better it she wanted to survive on the basis of
talent.  
	Now she realized that she would have to be more open
to what a subscriber had to offer.  She only hoped it
was not too late.
	At dinner with Jambon and Marie,  Colette was
introduced to M. Poulet.   She had seen him before
back stage, but never talked to him.  
	He said, "Colette, you are a very good dancer.  I
have seen you at practice.  But you never noticed me."
	She replied, "I am sorry, M. Poulet.   I think I am
too shy for my own good."
	"Why do you want to join the Corps de Ballet?"
	"Because I love to dance, and my family needs the
money.   I hate to think what might happen to me and
my sisters if we don't have any money.   Now, I might 
have to leave the school."
	Poulet replied, "That would be a loss.  I can help
you.  If you are good and do everything I say, I will
try to get you into the Corps next year."
	"But I need money now. My family can not survive on
the stipend I get from the ballet.  My father is sick
and cannot work.  My mother is a laundress, but she is
also often sick, and she has my brothers and sisters
to feed."
	"Don't worry.  I will help you."  he said,
solicitously. 
	Poulet smiled at the earnest young women.  He had
taken advantage of other poor girls in similar
circumstances.   Of course he would help her, but at
the same time, he would help himself.   Like other
season ticket holders, he found his mistresses at the
ballet. The ballet provided a way for respectable
gentlemen to admire almost respectable young women who
were half naked.  They lived under the illusion of
art.  Indeed, many artists found their models among
the ballerinas.   He enjoyed making  love to them
because they were so physical, but so innocent. 
	M. Pierre Poulet had a county estate  in the Loire
valley, where his wife and children lived.  He did not
have a noble title, but he had cousins who did.  
Although France had officially become a Republic
following the defeat of  Emperor Napoleon III,  having
a noble family still counted.  He came to Paris for
business and pleasure.   He did not know if his family
knew about his mistresses or not, and he did not care.
  To have a mistress or courtesan was a mark of
success in business, and  a source of prestige among
his friends.    A ballerina had enough class to make a
good impression, but not enough to seriously threaten
his marriage or his reputation in society. The prime
job of a wife was to bare legitimate children who
would maintain the property of the family.  The prime
job of a mistress was to keep him happy. 
	Poulet would get credit from his friends for helping
a young deserving dancer, whether she became his
mistress or not.  He knew that dancing was physically
very exhausting, because the dancers had to practice
six to ten hours a day six days a week.  This would
leave very little energy left over for him.  Poulet
already had a mistress, a former dancer named Susanne.
  But she was very pretty and sexy, but extremely
flirtatious.   He had no real hold on her, except
financial, but he was vain enough to resent being made
a cuckold.  He did not know whether Colette would make
a decent mistress or not, but he was willing to find
out.
	Poulet took Colette up to an apartment that he
sometimes used when he did not want to meet Susanne.  
	He looked at her carefully and then said, "Take off
your dress, my dear."
	Colette was afraid that might happen.  She said, "M.
Poulet, I've never undressed in front of a man
before."
	"If you want me to help you get into the Corps,  you
have to do exactly as I say.  I said, take off your
dress.  If not, you can leave, and stop wasting my
time."
	"If I do, do you promise me you will help me get into
the Corps?"
	"Yes.  You have my word as a gentleman."
	Colette slowly unbuttoned the dress, and put it on
the bed.  She unbound her brown hair and shook it
loose.  Like many dancers, she was thin.   Her round
breasts were the size and shape of ripe oranges.  She
did  not need the support of a corset.  Her nipples
were clearly visible under her petticoat.  
	Poulet pulled her close and kissed her.  She was not
sure how to respond, but she put her arms on his back.
  She felt if he wanted her,  she would have to let
him have his way, if that was the only way to get his
support.   
	Poulet did want to make love to her,  whether she
wanted it or not.  He pushed her down on to the bed. 
His hands roamed over her breasts, though the
petticoat.   She found the stimulation pleasant. 
However, she was not prepared for his hand reaching
under the petticoat and touching her pussy.
	"M. Poulet, what are you doing to me?"  She asked,
surprisingly.
	"Deciding whether you are a woman who deserves my
help," he replied.  
	"If you help me, you can do what you want,"   she
said.
	"That is what I wanted to hear."
	He let his hand explore her pussy.   She found
herself getting excited by his manipulations. Her
breathing became sharper.  
	"Do you like that, my dear?"  he asked.
	"Yes, you are making my body feel good."
	"This should make your body feel better.  Don't worry
about anything."
	He undid his slacks and underwear.   Before she
realized what was happening, his prick was rubbing her
pussy.  He then deliberately pushed it in.   She was
too surprised to say anything.  She just let it
happen.   She did not feel any discomfort because her
dancing had stretched her hymen.   
	When he was fully inside, he moved in her slowly.  
He had been trained by numerous prostitutes and
courtesans how to control himself.  He wanted to bring
her off, if he could.   He knew that a woman would
always obey the man who gave her her first orgasm.  
	He continued to move inside her, gauging her
reaction.   By this time, Colette was loosing her
sense of self.   She was awash in the feeling of
letting a rich man enjoy her body.   The pleasure
flowed over her, taking her up to a climax.   She
pushed her pelvis up  at him to increase her contact,
and held him tight.  
	"My god, what are you doing to me?  You're making me
feel wonderful."  She said, breathlessly.   
	He moved more rapidly, building up his own
excitement,  while she reached her peak.   Just as he
was about to cum, he suddenly withdrew.  He pulled at
his prick until his semen poured over her legs.  
	"A gentleman knows to withdraw for climaxing.  That
way the lady is sure to avoid getting pregnant.  I
said not to worry about anything."
	They lay next to each other for a few minutes.   Then
he said, "You are very good to me.  I will help you,
but I want you to continue to be good and obey me,
when we meet again. " 
	Poulet met her on usually on Mondays, when she was
not too tired, and when he could get away from
Susanne.  He gradually introduced her to the joys of
sex.    He occasionally gave her enough money to
continue in the school, but it in a way that she was
not being paid for sex.   	
	On one encounter  on a hot summer evening, he
suggested that they remove all their clothes.  She
quickly disrobed.     She was in love with her body,
and what it could do for her.  She was anxious to
display it.  They embraced,  letting their sex organs
touch.  
	Colette eyed his penis.
	"Is that your member?  May I touch it?"  she asked.
	"Yes, that is the instrument of our pleasure.  I'd
like you to touch it."
	She sat on the bed, touching it tentatively.  She was
surprised by how rapidly it grew under her hand.   She
looked at him, seeing him enjoy what she was doing. 
That encouraged her more.  She wanted to do for him
what he had done for her.   She continued to
masturbate him, increasing his pleasure.   Suddenly he
jerked his pelvis until his cum poured over her.
	"Did that make you feel good?"  she asked.
	"Yes,  you are very good to me."
	On another evening, while she was naked, he asked her
to stretch as she would before dancing.   She used the
bedstead as a barre, lifting her leg high above her
head.   Her pussy was displayed before his face.  He
kissed it, making it tingle.  She then got on the
floor into a complete split, and rubbed her pussy into
the rug.   He found her displays very sexy, and wished
she had more time for him. 
	Over the year, they met a dozen times or more.  They
experimented with various  positions.   Colette
enjoyed the physical aspects of sex.  She was used to
having  men tell her what to do with her body.  But
they were never together for more than an hour, and
never slept together.  Colette was aware of her
position in his life behind his  wife,  his mistress
Susanne, and other women she had heard about.   During
the year, Colette grew more self confident, social,
and comfortable with men.  But she did not have any
other man besides Poulet.
	When the time came for the competition for the Corps
de Ballet, Colette danced with the other girls. She
had a grace and sensual charm that she did not have
the year before.    Her dancing was much improved.  
She knew that Poulet put in a good word for her.  He
had considered not doing so and inviting her to become
his mistress instead, but he had given his word.  
This time she won easily.   
	"I am so happy, I could scream!  This is the best
thing that ever happened to me.  Thank you, thank you,
thank you."   Colette exclaimed to Poulet. 
	 " I want what is best for you. "  he said.
	" How can I repay for your kindness?" she asked.
	"How would you like to join me for the week-end?   I
know a charming country inn where we can leave the
bustle and heat of Paris."
	"You want me for the week end?  What about Susanne?"
	"She left me for a real Baron."
	"I am sorry.  I wish I could help you, but my dancing
will get even harder than before."	
	"I know.   For now, the only thing for us is the
country inn."
	Colette had never been outside of Paris, and had
never ridden on a train.  She  found the whole
experience with him exciting.  A few hours later, they
were at an inn in the Champaign district.   When they
got to their room,  Colette jumped on him, smothering
him with kisses.  Sex was the only way she knew to
relate to him.  She backed away only long enough to
strip off her clothes.  
	"Make love to me.  Your body would be the final cap
to a wonderful day, "  She urged.
	Poulet could not hold himself back from this sexy
ballerina.  He also removed his clothes and lay on the
bed.  
	"Fill me up, slowly and wonderfully,"  she whispered.
	Colette opened her legs, invitingly.  He touched her
pussy, but found that she was already excited.   He
slowly got on top of her, but she pulled him in.   She
wanted him, badly.
	He said, "Let's do it with me behind you.  You will
love it. "
	She was not sure what he meant, but let him position
her body.  He stood behind her and easily entered her
pussy.  
	"Just move naturally,"  he said.
	She found she could push back on him,  controlling
the stimulation.  
	"This is wonderful.   Do me, lover." she urged.
	Colette rocked back and forth under him, like the
waves of the ocean under a boat.   She wiggled her ass
to get more action.   He pulled hard at her small
breasts, hurting her slightly, but increasing her
erotic pleasure.  He used them as levers to control
her pace.   But Colette did not want her pace
controlled.   She wanted to let loose with spasm after
spasm of cum.   Poulet almost lost control himself. 
He pulled out just in time to release a stream of
semen over her ass.
	"I think you get sexier every time,"  he said.
	Colette fell forward on the bed.  She needed a few
minutes to recover.   
	By then, it was time to  get themselves cleaned up,
explore the town,  and have dinner.  They visited some
shops.   Poulet bought her a small pin.  They drank a
whole bottle of champaign with dinner.  Colette was
not used to so much wine, so she fell asleep in his
arms. 
	In the morning, they made love again.   This time
Colette remained on her back, with her legs over his
shoulders.   This gave him greater access to her body.

	"Lover, do me.   Make me cum."  She said.
	  Because he had cum they day before, he had no
trouble controlling himself.  Soon she was moaning
with pleasure.   
	"Yes, you doing it to me, "  she cried.   Her moans
dissolved into high pitched squeaks, as she hit the
edge.  He urged her on some more.   He kept with her, 
banging at her pussy rapidly.
	"My God, you have me there again."  she shrieked.  
Poulet wanted to bring her off a third time, but
again, he almost lost control, and had pour a fountain
of semen on her stomach.
	After washing in the bowl, they got up for breakfast
and explored the town some more. They met several men
he knew, each with a mistress or courtesan.    Each
time he introduced her as Mlle. Jardin,  a dancer with
the Opera.   Colette enjoyed meeting them, and found
she had mutual friends.  She felt at ease, and could
almost fantasize being his mistress.   They made love
one more time before having to return to Paris.
	Poulet was going to spend the summer with his family
in the country.   If he still had a mistress, he would
 house her in a small house in a nearby village. 
Before they parted, he said, "I am sure we will meet
again.  If you ever get tired of dancing, call on me."
	"Thank you.  I will." she replied.
	Colette spent the summer searching for a new
apartment.   The money from the ballet was sufficient
for her to leave her parent's tenement and move into a
flat she could share with another dancer, Marie.   
Colette devoted all her energy to dance, leaving her
with little for a man. 
	Only during the summer, did she try to have a social
life.  She went of vacation, usually to northern Italy
or Germany.   She tried to confine her relationships
to gentlemen she could trust. She would not to to bed
with a man she had just met,  but had to be courted
first.  She felt that as a dancer, she was worth it.  
Since that required more time and effort than many men
wanted to spend, she often remained celibate.   She
was not above accepting a gift or jewel from a
gentleman, but she would never take money.   It would
be demeaning.  
	Marie was sexually more adventurous.  She was not
afraid to go to bed any attractive man.   She often
teased Colette about her conquests.   However, over
the next five years, Colette only had six  brief
relationships, as compared to dozens for Marie. 
Colette began to miss the physical pleasure she had
gotten from men.
	One summer they had rented a small pension by Lake
Como in northern Italy.  Marie seemed to have a
different adventure every night, but Colette remained
by herself.
	Colette asked Marie, "Where do you find the men for
relationships?  I look around here as all I see are
married men with their families and low life hulks who
are not interested in anything."
	"What about him?  He would be good.  How about a pas
de deux with him?"  Marie pointed out a laborer who
worked by the lake.   
	"He is not a gentleman.   He goes after the wives of
the guests."  Colette replied.
	"Of course. He satisfies them because they're not
getting it from their husbands.  He can satisfy you
too.  I know, because I've been with him and his
friends several times."
	"What?  If you're not careful, you will get
pregnant."
	"I know how to protect my self.   I simply place a
sponge in my opening.  I also wash myself with a
douche.   I also know other ways of doing it that let
you get control.   How about a pas de quatre?"
	Marie waved to him.   Marco came up, laughing.  He
was short, but dark and handsome, with well built
shoulders from working by the lake.
	Marie said, "My friend and I would like to go dancing
and see the town.  Do you think you and another man,
maybe Roberto, could take us there?"
	Marco knew just what she wanted.  When he was with
some of the older wives, he sometimes wanted money,
but these pretty French dancers would be entertaining
enough by themselves.
	That evening Marco and Roberto rowed them across the
lake to an Italian town.  Marie and Colette barely
understood what they were saying, since they learned
Italian from listening to opera.   Marie and Colette
surprised the men by dancing at the local cantina. 
They pirouetted across the floor, much to the delight
of the locals. 
	After a few hours of drinking and dancing, Marie
motioned to Roberto that she wanted to leave.   She
also motioned to Colette to join them.  Marco joined
them too.  They went to a room adjoining a local
brothel.  
	"It is safe here."  Roberto said. 
	Roberto kissed Marie passionately, pushing her down
on the bed.   He fumbled with Marie's clothes, trying
to undress her.  He already had had Marie before.  
Marco also kissed Colette, but she did not let him
push her down. 
	Marie rolled out from under Roberto, saying,    "If
we are going to do this, we do it my way.   I'll
undress my self.  And you too, Roberto."
	Marie was slightly taller and bustier than Colette,
she stripped down to her petticoat, and danced around
the room.  She moved to Roberto, and fumbles with his
trousers.    He pulled his trousers off, revealing a
large erect penis.  Colette also decided to remove her
dress.  The sight of Roberto's prick made her feel
sexy.  
	"Before we do anything with you, we have to put some
sponges."  Marie said.  She soaked some animal sponge
in the wash bowl.   She sat on the bed, lifted her
petticoat, and inserted  some sponge into her pussy.  
Colette watched what she did, and tried to do the same
thing.  Both men found the display very exciting.  
They eagerly anticipated getting into their pussies,
too.  
	"You won't even know it's there,"   Marie said with a
sexy swagger.  "Now let me see what you've got."  
	She got on her knees in front of Roberto and pulled
his prick into her mouth.  He promptly moaned his
acceptance of this act.   Colette wanted to do the
same thing with Marco, but somehow she thought it was
unnatural.   Nevertheless, she pulled off Marco's
trousers, and fondled his prick into it full glory.  
	"I don't want it this way. I want to fuck you." Marco
said.
	Colette was not used to crude language, but she
wanted him too.   
	"Yes.  Just holding it  in my hand is a waste of a
good erection, "  She agreed.  
	Marie pulled her mouth off Roberto, and said,
"Colette, make Marco lie on the bed and get on top of
him,  the way I am going to do with Roberto.  That
way, when he cums, you don't have to rely on him but
can pull off yourself. "
	Roberto lay on his back.   Marie lifted her petticoat
and positioned herself over his prick.
She squatted down on him, using her powerful legs to
set her pace.  
	Colette tried to do the same thing.  She thrilled to
the feeling of her pussy filled by a powerful prick.  
Marco put his hands under the petticoat, lifting it
over her head.  He played with her tits while she
bounced on him.   He wanted to be more active in sex. 
  He squeezed her tits and pinched her ass.    She
moved slowly over him.  It had been a long time, and
she wanted to make it last.   Marco was more
impatient.   He began to jerk under her.   Colette
tried to pick up speed to catch up with him,  but she
could not.   She pulled off just in time to watch
Marco's semen come gushing out.
	"That was good for you, but you still owe me,"
Colette said.
	Roberto did not mind letting Marie do her thing.  He
knew he would be fine, but he wanted her to be
fulfilled.  He lay there happy and relaxed, while
Marie bounced on top of him.
Marie had abandoned herself to her own lust.  She did
not care what happened to Roberto, as long as she
achieved her pleasure.  She moaned each time she
flexed her legs.  She put her hands on her boobs,
massaging them.  It took her longer than Marco and
Colette to reach the edge.  	
	"Oh wow, yes."  She grunted, letting her body
convulse with pleasure.  Roberto took that has his cue
to push at her until his prick was filled with semen
too.
	"I am going to shoot."  he said, giving Marie ample
time.
	In the next bed, Colette and Marco were playing with
each other's bodies.   Marco quickly got another
erection, with Colette was still seething with lust. 
	"I want to fuck you properly.   I'll be careful," 
Marco said.
	Colette let him get on top and enter her.  She liked
having a man take possession of her body.  
	"Fuck me.  Fuck me good."  She said.   She delighted
in the crude language.  She wanted nothing more than
having this dirty Italian take her on an erotic
frenzy.   She was breathless, as he pounded into her. 

	"Yes.  I'm going to cum.  Keep going."  She yelled.
	She found herself at the business end of an Italian
sex machine.  Marco had no trouble controlling himself
the second time.   He want to leave this dancer just
begging for more.  He played with her tits some more. 
 She pulled on his back, scratching him as her passion
rebuilt to another crescendo.  
	"You are  making me cum again, " she said
breathlessly.  Marco continued to bang into her.  His
pleasure was building also.   He did not want to hit
orgasm yet.  He  want it to last for her.   She was so
immersed in her own lust, she did not care what he
did.   He  grunted and swore with each thrust.    
	Just as she reached her third orgasm, she felt her
pussy suddenly empty.  Marco pulled out just in time
to soak her stomach with a load of cum.  He pumped
himself with his hand until he hand emptied himself of
his sexual juices.
	Roberto saw what Marco was doing, and decided he
wanted to be more active too.    He got off the bed,
and told Marie to turn over.   
	"Take me from behind, Roberto.  I love it that way,
too,"  she said, excitedly.
	Marie raised her ass, waving it in the air.  Roberto
carefully positioned his prick into her exposed pussy.
 He pushed down as hard as he could, almost shoving
Marie off the bed.   She held on, and pushed back at
him. 
	"That's it, Roberto.    Work me over,"  she urged.
	Roberto put his hands on her hips, working her back
and forth.  He slapped her ass and pinched her tits, 
building her heat to boiling.
	"Pinch me, Roberto.  Make it so I can't stand it." 
Marie cried breathlessly.    She was getting
delirious.  She wanted her erotic tension  to bubble
over.   She came like a volcano, as wave after wave of
sexual lava came pouring over her loins.   Roberto
continued thrusting until he also released waves of
white lava, which he sent crashing onto her back.  
	The four of them lay on the beds, wet and exhausted. 
 They slept briefly.  By then the sky was beginning to
brighten, and Marie want to get back to the inn, so
that she and Colette could clean themselves off. 
	"Wasn't making love with those men delightful?" 
Marie asked.
	"Yes.   But that wasn't making love.  That was
fucking.  Fucking is just about sex.  Making love is
about pleasure.  It will be great, as long as we don't
get pregnant."  Colette said.
	"We were careful, and so were they.  We won't get
pregnant."
	Nevertheless, Colette was worried, and relieved when
she realized that neither of them was pregnant.   As
much as she enjoyed fucking, Colette would rather be
with a gentleman who could be trusted.   For her,
getting pregnant would be a tragedy, because it meant
she could no longer work.  Over the next few years,
she allowed herself to be fucked only occasionally,
when was careful to use a sponge and  she had gone
months without sex.   What she needed was a man who
combined the vigor of an Italian stud with the manners
of a gentleman.  The closest she came to that were a
baritones and a tenor who had leading roles at the
opera.    They were terrific in bed, but soon advanced
to other conquests.
	As she approached her late twenties, Marie decided
that dancing was becoming too hard.  She was having a
relationship with a rich count, who usually did not
withdraw during ejaculation. Marie's precautions were
not failure proof.   She eventually became pregnant by
him.   The count was famous all over Paris for
fathering illegitimate children by his various
mistresses.   Marie did not really mind, since the
count gave her a large sum of money, and she had a
good excuse to quit the dance.
	Marie decided to marry a trombone player in the Opera
orchestra.  They had been having a low scale
relationship for years. He knew about her baby,  but
he decided that any woman who was good enough for a
count was good enough for him.   Colette was invited
to the church as a maid of honor, but she avoided the
bouquet.  The priest who performed the ceremony may
have known that the bride was pregnant,  but he felt
that as long as the baby was baptized, it would be all
right.   
	Colette did not want marriage or a baby.  She had
been raised in dire poverty, and was desperately
afraid of it.  She saw what babies had done to her
mother.   She was afraid of anything like that
happening to her.
	Colette continued to dance for another two years. 
However, her legs were hurting more than ever.   They
had taken over twenty years of abuse.   She could no
longer go on point without excruciating pain.  The
only pain reliever available was laudenum, which was
based on opium and often addictive.  She was depressed
that her body was finally betraying her. 
	Without dance or marriage, Colette had to find
another way to avoid poverty.   She decided that her
best option would be to find some man and be his
mistress or courtesan.  She enjoyed sex, and would
have to get over her reluctance to accept money for
it.  She enough money to live until she could find a
good situation, and enough contacts through the Opera
that should not be hard.    
	One of the men she contacted was her old lover, M
Pierre Poulet.  She had seen him a few times over the
years, but just exchanged pleasantries.   Nevertheless
she was surprised when a note came from him inviting
her to dinner at one of the finest restaurants in
Paris. Colette wore her best dress and finest jewelry
for the occasion.  When she arrived, she saw Poulet
was accompanied by another woman about her age and a
much younger man.  
	Poulet said, "Good evening, my dear. Let me introduce
my friend, Clara, whom you may know from the opera,
and my son Louis."
	Colette recognized Clara from the chorus.  She was a
large pleasant woman, with a round face and double
chin, whose breasts were clamoring for release from
her corset.  Pierre and Louis looked as if they had
been divided and moved in different directions in
time.   Pierre had grown fatter, grayer and balder
than when she met him over thirteen years earlier.  
Louis was just a handsomer version of his father, but
he had an edge which was almost cruel.
	After some light conversation and some heavy food,
which Clara especially enjoyed, Pierre turned to
Colette.
	"Do you have any idea what you want to do when you
finish dancing?"
	"Perhaps enjoy being with a rich man."
	"Do you speak Italian?"
	"Yes."
	"Do you speak German?"
	"A little."  Colette learned German from one of her
lovers.
	"Do you speak English?"
	"No.  I learn from music, and the English do not make
good music."
	"Well, I was there at the beginning of your career. 
Perhaps I could help at the end. What do you think of
Louis?"
	"He is a very handsome fellow."
	"Yes he is.   He is also fallen victim to the rich
man's disease.  He spends all his time and money
drinking, gambling, and whoring.  He needs to
appreciate the finer things in life.  I would like you
to be his companion, to travel with him, and show how
to appreciate life and beauty."
	"Why can't his friends do that now?"
	"I don't trust them.  They will be whoring again,
with my money."
	"What do you want me to do?"
	"Stay with him and keep him out of trouble until he
finds a lady from his own class to marry.  He needs
someone of your experience and maturity, as well your
beauty. "
	"Do you want me to be his mistress?"
	"That is up to you and him.   I will pay all your
expenses for a year, while you travel and learn. 
After a year,  I will give you an annual stipend,
provided you stay loyal to my family, and not become a
public courtesan."
	This was the best offer Colette could expect.  She
was sure she would have make love to them, but that
prospect excited her.  Colette accepted the offer, and
agreed to move in with the Poulets by the end of the
week.  Colette sold her furniture and utensils to her
land lady, and packed her remaining possession, mostly
clothes, into a few small crates.
	Colette was offered a small room on the main level
which had been used by Poulet's daughter.   
	Clara wanted to establish her priority in the
household.   She said to Colette, "This where you will
be staying.   M Pierre asked me to offer the services
of my maid, Anna.   But remember, I was here first."
	Colette replied, "Thank you.  I have never had a
maid.   I am sure I'll be fine."
	 On her second night there, there was a knock on her
door.   She felt it would have to be either Pierre or
Louis, looking for her bed.  It was Louis.   He
entered the room, which was dimly lit by gas lamps. 
He was just wearing a night shirt.  
	"May I sit down?"  he asked.
	"Of  course, Louis."
	"You should know that having you move in with us is
my father's idea, not mine.   But I am glad you
agreed.  You are very pretty.   If we are going to
spend time together,  we should know each other
better."  
	Louis leaned over to touch her, but Colette pushed
him away.
	"Thank you.  But if you are planning to share my bed,
I insist that you give me my pleasure, in addition to
your own."
	"I thought ladies do not expect pleasure in bed."
	"I am not a lady.  I am a Frenchwoman.  If you do not
know how to give a Frenchwoman her pleasure, I suggest
you ask your father."
	"Are French women better?"
	"Everyone knows French women are the best."
	"How about Italian women?"
	"There just two types, virgins and whores."
	"Spanish?"
	"The same, only more so."
	"What about German women?"
	"I don't know too many German women, but judging by
the German men,  they are too neat.  They might
confuse an orgasm with a polka."
	"And the English?"
	"The English have not discovered sex yet.  I don't
know how they have children.  If you try to enter an
English woman, she might be so cold she will freeze
your dick."
	Louis was glad he was with a French woman, and he
knew how pleasure her.   He was just usually too
selfish to care.  Now with Colette, he would have to
care.  
	"I will give you a bed of joy,"  he said.
	"Then stay there while I get ready."
	Colette went behind a screen to insert her sponge.   
She then washed herself and removed her night shirt. 
She approached the bed naked.  
	"You are prettier than I imagined."  Louis said,
softly.
	Colette  climbed on the bed and lay next to him.  
She reached under his night shirt and felt for his
penis.
	"Let's see if you have what it takes to satisfy a
woman,"  she said.
	His prick grew in her hand, until it exceeded the
generous proportions of his father.  He had one of the
largest organs she had ever felt.
	"Yes, you do.   Take off your night shirt so I can
feel your body."
	When he was naked, she moved on top of him, and
planted her mouth on his prick.    
	"I want you to be ready, but not too ready, " she
said.
	She licked his penis for several minutes, sure that
she was pleasuring him.  Then she pulled away.
	"That felt so good.  Why did you stop?"  he
complained.
	"Because now is your turn to pleasure me."	
	She lay back  on the bed, with her legs open.   When
he went to mount on top of  her, she said, "Not yet.  
You have to pleasure me first.  Use your hand and
mouth."
	Louis started to finger her slit.  
	"Put your hand here,"  she said, moving his finger to
her clitoris.
	He rubbed her there, exciting her tremendously.  She
moaned with frequent "oohs", as he touched her.  Louis
felt good that he could excite her.   
	"Kiss me in the same place,"  she instructed.   
	Louis had never kissed a woman's pussy, but it seemed
natural to keep her excited.   He was afraid it would
have an odor, but she had washed before, so it was
fine.  He kissed her clitoris and was aware of how
much louder her  moans had become.  However,  Colette
did not want to cum on his mouth.
	"Put your magical tool in me.  I want you to take
me."  She whispered.
	Louis climbed on top of her and thrust his prick
deep.   
	" You are so big.   Take me.  Fill me up, "  She
urged.
	Louis had her  pinned to the bed.   He was pushing
into her hard.
	"Take your time.  Make it last, for both of us."  she
said.
	Louis tried to take his time, but the sensations from
his prick were overwhelming.  
	"I can't last much longer,"  he said, grunting.
	"Then do it.  Take me as hard as you can."  
	She pushed up at him, getting into a  delicious
rhythm.   She was climbing higher.  Suddenly, the
tension in her abdomen snapped , letting orgasms
bounce around her body .  The tension in his rock hard
penis was almost painful.  He had to get some release
too.   He pulled out and leaned over her.   She took
his tool in her hand, helping him to soak her her
belly in a torrent of cum. 
	When he was finished he lay down next to her.
	"I'm sorry that happened so fast," he admitted.
	"You were good.   And next time you will be even
better.  You have all the natural talent.
And I will train you to use it."
	She got up to wipe the semen off her stomach.   She
handed him his night shirt.
	"You may come back any time you want.  Good night."
	Colette became Louis's mistress.  However, she also
let Pierre make love to her, when Clara was not
available.  She felt good about being shared by father
and son.   She traveled with Louis all over Europe,
visited concerts, opera, and museums. She taught him
about music and art.   She also taught him about
making love.  
	When Louis decided to marry,  Colette performed the
same service for his younger brother, Henri.   He was 
less enthusiastic about being with an older woman, so
she went back to Louis when his wife became pregnant. 
Finally, when Pierre's wife died,  she moved in with
him.
Eventually, when Pierre finally died,  a stipulation
in his will provided a stipend to her for life.
Louis's and Henri's children knew her as aunt Colette
when she lived with them.   And so she remained for
the rest of her life.

	 


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