The Tender Days of May (The Belle House Book 1)

by Vlad Kahany

  “Oh, my Lord, where did you learn such tricks?” Bonny gasped, and it encouraged Walter even more.

  Meanwhile, Odaley came behind him and started placing kisses on his back and waist, gradually working her way down his buttocks, which sent shivers down his body. When her lips touched his inner thighs, and the tongue slipped towards his balls, he involuntary moaned and thrust his tongue deeper into Bonny’s core, at which the girl, in her turn, yelped in pleasure.

  “My Lord,” Odaley said. “Get up on all fours so I can have better access.”

  He did as he was told, slightly embarrassed at the crouching position and his buttocks in the air, but continued to work on pleasing Bonny. He felt Odaley behind him clasp his balls, then something moist closed around them, and he realized she put them in her mouth. His member was already erect and burning with want as Odaley continued sucking on his private parts, the skin around them, her hand reaching forward between his legs to rub his swollen cock.

  Oh, how wonderful it felt! He almost forgot what he needed to do! Then felt her tongue lick the loose skin underneath his sack, go further up between his buttock and reach his anus, tapping it gently. Her hand, stroking his cock, started moving faster, and her wicked tongue kept tapping that secret spot. He let go of Bonny, moaned loudly and in seconds, overcome by the intense pleasure, cried out in orgasm.

  “Oh, God,” he said, panting, trying to catch his breath.

  He had never thought that that part of his body brought so much pleasure! Moreover, that a girl would want to touch it!

  “Let’s change!” Bonny sprang up, instructed Odaley to lie down, got on all fours in front of her, and started pleasing the girl with her mouth. Bonny’s perfect buttocks were up in the air right in front of Walter.

  “You can take a break, Sir,” Odaley said dreamily, her eyes already half-closed from pleasure. “Come here, kiss me, will you?”

  She waved Walter to come closer as he perched himself next to her, kissing her pretty full lips.

  “Ah!” she cried out, tearing her mouth away from him as Bonny giggled cheerfully between her legs. “Are you enjoying our company?” Odaley cooed, and Walter nodded, his eyes on Bonny’s mouth and tongue at work between Odaley’s legs.

  He was astonished at what he was taking part in, fascinated at the amount of pleasure.

  So open!

  So shameless!

  Odaley was playing with his nipples now as Walter watched Bonny eating her sex as if it was the most delicious dish. Odaley’s hand moved to his member, which was soft from exhaustion, but when her fingers started playing with it, he felt it slowly come to life.

  Again!

  The third time this evening!

  He did not know he had so much energy in him!

  Bonny peeled her lips off Odaley and wiggled her butt, giggling.

  “Sir, don’t leave these wonderful buttocks unattended!” She bit her lip and gave Walter a longing smile. Both him and Odaley sprung to their knees. Bonny turned to show him the most wonderful view of her white behind and the perfect folds that lured him with their pink softness. He took his erection closer to it and thrust it into Bonny with a gentle push. The girl moaned as they started moving in sync while Odaley went behind Walter, between his legs and began caressing his balls and buttocks while she nibbled at the skin on his back.

  Walter gasped and moaned in pleasure, not feeling shy anymore, every muscle and nerve in his body tense with desire.

  Oh, women!

  How could he think that several minutes could be enough?

  It took him much longer this time. He pushed inside Bonny, thrust and pounded into her, spread his legs wider for Odaley’s reach. Finally, after some time, sweating and panting, he climaxed again, though weaker this time, and collapsed on to the sheets, exhausted but certain that he just found out what heaven was.

  CHAPTER 4

  It was one of these days that May met the little girl in person. Krissy was running the errands at the market, so Martha sent her little girl up to May’s room with a breakfast tray.

  The tray was too heavy for the girl, and she clumsily brought it to the coffee table and set it down, curtsied, and stood looking down, crumbling the front of her dress in her small fingers, waiting for further orders.

  “What is your name, little one?” May asked with a smile.

  “Ada,” the girl answered, and May marveled at the softness and the purity of her young voice.

  “How old are you, Ada?”

  “Seven.”

  “And Martha is your mother?”

  The girl nodded.

  “And your father?”

  Ada shrugged her little shoulders. “Somewhere, drinking,” she said without any particular emotion in her voice.

  “Oh.”

  May studied the girl, her old dress, stained and patched up in multiple places, probably passed down from neighbors or bought off another poor family. Her shoes were old as well, grey from scratches and time. Her straw-colored hair full of unruly natural curls was tightened in the back by a pin that failed to restrain it. Her face had already lost its baby chubbiness but was still fresh, not marred by tiredness and malnutrition, though even the maids in the House seemed to be well taken care of.

  “I see you in the back yard sometimes,” May said, sitting down on the chair to be on the level with the little girl.

  The girl’s eyes shot up at her. “I see you in the window, too!” she exclaimed in excitement as if they found some mutual secret. “You are always alone.”

  The girl’s eyes were big and grey, with the innocence in them, not ruined yet by the brutality of poverty.

  She smiled again, looked down, then up at May.

  “Where is your Mama?” she asked.

  “Oh.” May smiled quickly. “My mother passed away. So did my father.”

  Ada looked at her with sadness.

  “It’s all right,” May added. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Do you have a husband?”

  “I do not.”

  “Are you a lady?”

  “Uhm. Not of the House, I mean, not here, I mean…”—May struggled to explain—“I am a Lady, yes, but right now, I am staying here for some time.”

  “Why don’t you have a pretty dress, then?”

  The comment made May smile. “Because I like this one.”

  Ada studied her dress for some time. “I like your hair,” she said. “Can I touch it?”

  May lost her tongue for a second. Neither maids nor servants had ever asked for such things before, but the girl was still young and probably figured that May was not far off from the servants since she occupied the smallest room.

  “Yes, you may.” May smiled. She liked this little girl, so simple and straightforward in her questions. Time will go by, and it will all change.

  Ada came over, reached with her little fingers, and touched May’s dark thick hair. First timidly as if afraid to mess it up, then brushed her fingers along one of the strands. “You are very pretty,” she said, standing on May’s side, studying her hair, the face, the collar of the dress. “One day, I want to be pretty like you.”

  The words evoked a chuckle from May. “You are pretty, too.” She nodded with a smile.

  Ada nodded back. “My papa says so, too. He says my looks are worth some money, but mama yells at him when he does.”

  May’s smile disappeared, and she stared at Ada, who wasn’t old enough to know the meaning of those words.

  The servant door swung open downstairs, and they heard a woman’s voice calling Ada’s name.

  “Mama needs me,” Ada said and withdrew her hand. “Do you think I can come here sometimes? I can clean your room, too. Or anything else you want me to do. I like you much better than other ladies. They are mean.”

  “Oh, sweets!” May smoothed the girl’s hair. “Of course you can,” she said without even realizing that before, making acquaintances with maids or their children was way beneath her.

  “Ada!”
came another yell from downstairs, and the girl sighed and lowered her eyes.

  “How about this?” May reached behind the head, pulled a brooch out of her hair, and showed it to Ada. “You like it?”

  The girl’s eyes lit up like stars, and the lips parted in awe as she carefully stroked the brooch with one of her fingers, barely touching it. She nodded, still transfixed by the glow of the blue and grey stones in the shape of a butterfly.

  “Here.” May reached into the girl’s hair and slid the brooch into the golden curls. She smiled. “You can have it,” she told the girl who stared at her in shock, and before the little one could object, added, “If your mama asks, tell her it was a gift from me. Now go!”

  The little girl clasped the brooch in the back of her hair with both little hands, her big grateful eyes still staring at May in disbelief, and she hurried to the door. Just before disappearing, she turned around. “Thank you, Miss!” she said, and her little mouth stretched into the biggest smile as she left the room and ran down the servant stairs, still clutching to the brooch in her hair.

  May’s smile disappeared as soon as she was left alone, and she remembered the girl’s words. My looks are worth some money. The girl had no idea, and May prayed that she never finds out. This city, alas, swallowed anyone with its wicked mouth. Especially the poor. Especially the young and poor. Especially the young, poor, and beautiful, for beauty got ruined the fastest.

  —————

  Later in the afternoon, it was Krissy again who served May’s room.

  The maid set the tray on the table, smoothed her apron, and fixed her head cap.

  “Baron Morse is in town,” she announced with a sly smile.

  May gave her a curious look.

  “Who is he?”

  “Oh, I don’t know what exactly he does,” Krissy said hastily, glad to start a conversation. She was a talkative lass, always eager to discuss any matter or topic and give her own opinion. “But he is fond of Molly, and when he visits, they go at it all night until morning. She sleeps all day long afterward and has to use all kinds of ointments for healing, you know”—she raised her eyebrows and, giggling—“down there.”

  “Ah, Krissy!” May waved her off, blushing slightly. “Why do you talk like you are fascinated with all that is going on in those rooms?”

  “Because one day I want to be one of the ladies,” she said proudly. “I told the madam I am ready, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She says I am too much work.” She pouted her lips.

  May gave her an astonished look.

  “You? A lady of the House?” She looked at Krissy wide-eyed. “Why would you ever want to submit yourself to serving men in such a vile way?”

  “Vile?!” Now it was Krissy’s turn to be astonished. “What is vile about submitting to pleasure? And getting the best things in return? Wearing fancy dresses,” Krissy said dreamily, “eating the best food and have men take you out to restaurants and theatres.”

  “But surely you can’t possibly want to be a mere toy in a man’s hands, like a pet, or worse, like a piece of meat you get at the market.”

  “A toy? Oh no, it’s the other way around, Miss. I intend to use men to their fullest potential, to serve my needs. And that includes pleasure.”

  Krissy looked up at May sassily.

  “You don’t know what pleasure is, Krissy!” May said quietly.

  “Do you?” Krissy looked at May cunningly. “Have you ever done it?”

  “Have I done what?”

  “You know…” Krissy giggled, and May blushed like a blossoming red rose.

  “No. I believe that a lady should save herself for her husband,” May said with an air of nobility though she wasn’t sure that life always worked in this way.

  “Oh,” Krissy’s uttered, disappointed, but then cheered up and started chirping away again. “Well, I see plenty of it. I serve the rooms, you know. And I go to the back hallway and watch once in a while. The peepholes, you know.”

  May frowned. “The peepholes?”

  Krissy cocked her head to the side. “Surely, you know about those.”

  “Tell me,” May heard herself say with shame.

  “Every room has a peephole.” Krissy smoothed her skirt and took a seat on the edge of an empty chair, happy to share the information that wasn’t to the woman’s knowledge. “The ones in the right-wing, Eliza’s and them all, have a narrow storage corridor behind them, and all those rooms have the peepholes in the back,” she continued, feeling important and sort of like a professor. “The madam uses them to observe the new ladies, you know, coach them afterward, what they do wrong and all that. And also when the ladies have clients, important ones, you know, they discuss certain matters that the madam wants to know about.”

  May listened with fascination. It seemed the place was even more corrupt than she thought. Watching? Spying?

  “Some ladies—they cover them up from the inside, though you can still hear everything. Some don’t. Molly is not very observant, you know, so when I clean the room, sometimes I move the picture that covers up the hole, and then I go at night, and I can see everything.” Krissy bit her lip and looked at May.

  May sat with the mouth open in astonishment. To her shame, she sensed strange excitement building up in her.

  “Baron Morse and Molly are my favorites!” Krissy continued talking fast. “Things they do! Oh, my! The last time, he lay her on top of him, facing him but upside down, if you know what I mean, then her face was right on top of his cock and her—“

  “Stop!” May put both palms in front of her to keep Krissy from talking.

  “But she enjoys it! Miss Molly—she does!” Krissy insisted. “So does Miss Eliza, especially when she is with Lord Ashbee. He is rumored to be quite a skillful lover.” Krissy giggled.

  “Lord Ashbee?” May echoed.

  “Yes! The one that you ran into at Mrs. Sharke’s! They call him the devil. He has the most terrible reputation,” Krissy chattered like a bird. “Imagine! In this city where bad reputation is a badge of honor, some folks would rather not have him in their company.”

  May wanted to ask how Krissy knew all that, but her thoughts ran like wild horses in a different direction.

  “Miss Eliza has the peephole covered, but when they are together, I can hear it all, and he makes her scream in pleasure like you’ve never heard—“

  “Stop!” May exclaimed. “I don’t want to hear it!”

  “I can show you, Miss. Things they do—“

  “Krissy!” May shouted. “No more!”

  Krissy sighed disappointedly.

  “Molly says, Baron Morse is going to visit tonight,” she said quietly. “They will probably retire after—“

  “Krissy!” May was panting. Her heart was beating like a drum. She turned away abruptly and went to the window, her eyes moving around wildly, not keeping up with her thoughts. She spun on her heels. “You are saying that every room has a peephole…”

  “Well, yeas, Miss.”

  “And this one too?”

  “Uhm”—Krissy’s eyes ran around as if searching for an actual peephole—“I’m not sure ‘bout this part of the building. Don’t know, Miss.”

  Just then, the bell downstairs rang, and Krissy perked up, jumped on her feet, and disappeared behind the door.

  May didn’t touch the tray with food but spent the next half an hour carefully studying the walls, step by step, every inch of it but didn’t find anything.

  Disappointed, she sat on the edge of the bed, thinking that maybe she missed something. Her thoughts drifted to the conversation with Krissy, and she allowed her mind to wander. Somehow, it brought her to the image of Lord Ashbee in Eliza’s chambers. What was he like, she wondered.

  —————

  Lord Ashbee, Charles Hamilton, and young Walter Bentley sat in the study of Lord Ashbee’s house and drank brandy. The doors that led to the garden in the back were open, and the fresh breeze brought in the smell of lilacs.

  Th
e discussion on money and power was taking place. Charles stated his point that money didn’t always mean power, for there were plenty of fools that didn’t know how to use it. On the other hand, women were the perfect example of how one could advance in this world without as much as a penny in their pocket. Charles, who was Lord Ashbee’s close friend and the same age, quite enjoyed introducing young Walter to social life.

  “Salome Sharke, the one you already had the pleasure of meeting, started at the bottom,” Charles, squinting through the smoke of the burning cigar between his fingers, explained to Walter. “In fact, somewhere in the East End, believe it or not, though that part of the story got successfully forgotten. She was lucky she didn’t pick up any diseases that killed her off at an early age.” Charles chuckled, refilling their glasses with brandy. “Not a laughing matter, of course. That’s why one”—he nodded at Walter—“should always stick to better establishments if the means permit. Salome Sharke made a fine living for herself. She treats people fairly, takes care of her girls, plays nice with the clients, and keeps friends in high places. I think she has more power in London than some members of the Parliament.”

  He laughed, and Walter chuckled in unison. “A brothel owner, who would’ve thought,” the young man said.

  “The life in the city,” Lord Ashbee cut in, “is nothing like that in the country, believe me, Walter. In London, vices are a lot more important than virtues. They run this town, the rich and the poor.”

  “But the brothels? Surely, you are giving them too much credit,” Walter argued.

  “Ha! Little do you know, my boy. They save men, women, families, marriages.”

  “Marriages! Nonsense! They ruin them!”

  “On the contrary.” Lord Ashbee raised his eyebrows, walking around with a cigarette in his hand. “Both men and women think of marriage as a contract. Usually, that of convenience, forgetting that it should be one of pleasure. Women think of themselves as breeders and bearers of the title that men have. So they slowly turn into walking corpses forgetting how to be women in the sexual ways. And if the husbands don’t want to pursue pleasure, or are too indifferent, the women don’t bother. But men have a higher sexual drive. They want novelty! Excitement! They like to see the partner enjoy sex too! No one wants a corpse. Well, with some exceptions,” he added. Charles chuckled, and Walter gave him a mortified glance. “Women are cowards,” he continued.