The Woman in Red: 12. After-play
Jean-Pierre had watched with growing amazement the extremely flexible musicians. At a certain moment, he couldn't distinguish to whom some of the limbs belonged. It was inconceivable that someone could impose his will on a human being that way. Monsieur Charles had to be an ace in his job. If he could draw, sing or play an instrument as well as this performance, he would become a world-famous artist. He was in a state of euphoria just at the moment Charles clapped his hands twice. The members of the quartet, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, put their clothes back on. After that, they took their instrument from the ground and continued playing as if nothing had happened.
Both Frau Hofmeister, Madame Thérèse, General Tavernier and Jean-Pierre were looking astonished. They were still steaming by the effect of the spectacle they had watched. The sweat still covered their forehead, and the heartbeat of each of them went harder and faster than normal.
Frau Bertha wiped off her clammy hands on her napkin while Jean-Pierre noticed to his great consternation, there was a stain on the front of his pants. When he remembered his table companion from before and her handiwork, so to speak, he suddenly completed the picture. Jean-Pierre felt by no means any shame, at least not so much as he should have had. Had Monsieur Charles hypnotized everybody? He excused himself with his personal serviette holding in front of the spot on his pants and went back to his room.
Just after he had pulled on some other clothes, he heard a quietly knocking on the door. For a while, he thought it could be Frau Hofmeister, who would like to continue her exploration, but a soft voice called his name. It was Katarina. He opened the door on a crack, but she pushed it open and locked it behind her while she was gently leaning against it. Her hair hung loose, and her blouse was indecently far open. Jean-Pierre looked in her eyes, and without speaking he knew what she wanted. Wired up by the performance of earlier, Katarina was horny as hell. Her bosom went up and down on the fast rhythm of her breath. She continued unbuttoning her blouse, and a white lace bra appeared.
Jean-Pierre approached, but she gave a sign with her arm so that he stood still. She let the blouse slide on the floor and slowly, almost teasing, she dropped one of the shoulder-straps of the beautiful piece of lingerie. With a sultry look on Jean-Pierre, she uncovered one breast while she caressed it. Her looks riveted on those of Jean-Pierre she did the same with the second shoulder strap and her other breast.
She pushed her roommate further into the room until he stood before the bed. There, while she pushed away his hands constantly trying to grab her, she opened his belt of his pants and pulled them down to his ankles. She pushed him with a soft punch on the bed and showed him the way. He felt the warmth of this triangle of lust. Why he didn't know, but he thought about the summer and a smooth peach, so succulent that the juice flowed over.
The image had given him ideas, and he pushed Katarina aside and nestled his head and mouth against this soft velvet fruit. Katarina curled her back and groaned. She pushed his head yet harder against her skin, deeper if that was even possible at all. Jean-Pierre ate the fruit and more. He tasted and had never experienced such a delight. He felt her belly shaking and thought she was strangling him when her orgasm together with a wild cry exploded in her lap. After a short while, she seemed insatiable, she drew him up and kissed him hard and deep with her tongue in his mouth. She licked his wet lips and tasted herself.
At that instant, both lost the last grain of their self-control. In a wild embrace, they were upon each other, twisted themselves into curves and bent both their backs in tension. It didn’t take long till both of them, screaming with lust and ecstasy, reached their climax. Panting and sweating, they stayed winded up in each other in the chaos of blankets and sheets on the bed. Neither of them would be the first to move. Each of them felt the pleasure flowing through their body, a vibrating flame of heat that submerged them like the waves of the sea, over and over again.
Eventually, they were lying quietly against each other, naked and satisfied from head to toe. It had lasted a bit longer before their breath became calm again, till their heart took his normal rhythm again.
Katarina softly coughed before she hesitating spoke. ‘Jean-Pierre, can I ask you something very personal?’