I sit before the small mirror, running a brush through mylong hair and dreaming about tomorrow night. Our holiday ball. Mother and Father have been planning it for months, and the neighborhood is all abuzz with talk. The invitations were sent a month ago, the replies have all been received, seating charts have been made. We are expecting 160 guests; a very respectable number for a ball. Fewer than 100 and it would just be considered a dance. Fewer than 50 and it would be considered nothing more than a dinner party. But 160 is grand enough for the title of “ball,” and it is sure to be the most extravagant affair in the city of New Orleans. All of the best people in the city have been invited, and I am well aware that the reason is entirely for my benefit.
My older sister was married last month, so it is now acceptable for me, as the second oldest at age 18, to be courted…and the men are lining up around the block to throw their names into the hat. My social calendar has been full for weeks as men have come by to introduce themselves, to sit with me in the parlor and drink tea, to request the pleasure of a buggy ride through the Garden District (chaperoned, of course).
I don’t delude myself that all this attention is solely because of my personal charms…although those are abundant, if I may say so. I have dark hair that curls around my face, and striking hazel eyes that men find irresistible. My figure is near perfect, my large breasts bordering on what my mother calls “indecent.” I don’t even need a corset to cinch my waist, although I wear one of course, because it would be vulgar not to. But, despite these things, I understand that most of my suitors are here because of my father. He is a shipping tycoon, one of the richest men in the South and, as his daughter, I am especially desirable. Although my father will have the final say in who I marry, I am expending considerable effort in trying to determine which men are interested in me and which men are only interested in the power and wealth they would gain from becoming part of my family. I can usually make an accurate assessment within a few minutes of conversation. So far, I have been discouraged by the results.
That’s why I’m looking forward to the ball: it will give me the opportunity to meet a variety of men in one evening. And although this ball is not officially being given specifically for me, everyone knows that its real function is to find a suitable husband for me, Isabel Broussard.
I rise from my vanity table and walk down the hall to the servants’ quarters. Maria, my mother’s Lady’s Maid, who is my age, promised to roll my hair for me tonight before bed so it will be ready for the ringlets that I will wear to the ball tomorrow. I pause at her door. It is closed, but she is not alone in there. I hear her giggle, then gasp, and a deeper voice grunts something unintelligible. Curious, I quietly push the door open just a crack and have to stifle my own gasp at what I see.
Maria, wearing nothing but her corset, is on her knees with her back to me. Jacob, the thirty-year-old stablehand, is standing in front of her with his hand on her head, holding her in place as he thrusts his cock into her mouth. I am frozen to the spot. I have never seen anything like this in my entire life, and I’m slightly confused by the emotions that I’m feeling. Disgusted, but also strangely aroused.
Oh, no! I’ve been spotted. Jacob’s eyes widen as he sees me, then a wicked grin spreads across his face and he thrusts even harder, grunting as he assaults Maria’s mouth. She doesn’t seem to mind, moaning along with him. Suddenly, Jacob cries out and pulls away from her. I stifle another gasp as I catch a glimpse of the first male cock I have ever seen in person (my sister and I used to look at the illustrations in some books my father keeps hidden in his study). It looks huge to me. Jacob catches me gawking and grins again, looking me in the eye as he strokes it quickly with both hands, while he’s breathing heavy and moaning even louder. Suddenly, he throws his head back and his cock shoots its white, sticky load all over Maria’s face. She opens her mouth and catches some of it, while the rest coats her face and drips down between her cleavage. Jacob reaches around his neck and pulls off his tie, then wraps it around Maria’s eyes, blindfolding her, then lies her down on the floor, on her back. I realize he wants me to keep watching, and the blindfold is to keep her from seeing me. I’m mesmerized; I couldn’t walk away from this if I wanted to!
Crouching over Maria, Jacob kisses her passionately. She throws her arms around him and attempts to hold him to her as they kiss, but he wiggles free and begins to kiss down her body. The corset she is wearing creates some impressive cleavage, and he runs his tongue along the top of her breasts. He slides his hands down her sides, admiring her curves with his touch, but his eyes are still on me. Finally, he moves all the way down her body so his face is poised between her legs. Locking his eyes on mine, he begins to lick her. I’m blushing, and a fierce, aching heat is spreading through my own body. Maria is moaning and writhing on the floor as Jacob thrusts his tongue in and out of her. Looking at me, he holds up three fingers. Oh, my…he presses his fingers into her, moving them in and out in rhythm as he continues to lick her. Suddenly, Maria begins to scream, “Oh, yes, Jacob! Right there! Right there! Ohhhhh…my…God! YESSSS!”
I let the door close and run back to my room. What did I just witness? Of course I know what sex is, but that…I had no idea that men and women could do that to each other with their mouths. The idea frightens me and excites me all at the same time.
What Maria and Jacob did was completely improper, of course. If my parents knew, they would dismiss both of them immediately. I’m a little bit surprised that Jacob was so brazen about it once he saw that I was watching. The thought of his eyes on me as he licked Maria to an orgasm is causing me to tingle and drip between my legs.
I want to do that. I want a man to put his cock in my mouth and I want to suck him until he comes. I want a man to lick me until I scream his name in ecstasy. The thought has me flushed and breathing heavily. I undress quickly and lie down on my bed, sliding nearly naked between the smooth, cool sheets. I reach down with one hand and touch myself through my panties, pressing the silky fabric between my legs. I rub my fingers across my clitoris, enjoying the friction of my panties rubbing against me. As I stroke myself, I imagine a man’s fingers there instead of mine, and try to envision his face between my thighs, his tongue lapping at my wetness. I see Jacob's face there, but quickly push it away. He’s not the one for me. My parents would never allow it, and I’m not attracted to him anyway. I quickly visualize the faces of the many suitors I have met over the last few weeks. None of them serve to enhance my desire. I imagine my perfect man. Long dark hair, piercing blue eyes, a chiseled chest and bulging biceps. I close my eyes and imagine this fantasy man as I continue touching myself, rubbing my flesh with the soft silk of my panties. I grind my hips to meet my fingers, and my other hand goes to my breasts, tracing circles around each nipple, pinching them gently as I begin to feel an orgasm building up. My fantasy man speaks to me in my mind: “Isabel, I want to make you come…let me taste your sweet juices as you come in my mouth.” I gasp softly and rub faster, lifting my hips in rhythm with my fingers until I feel the delicious shivers run through me. I press down hard with my fingers until the feeling has passed, then I collapse onto my pillow. Closing my eyes, I imagine my fantasy lover and wonder if I will ever find him.
Thinking about the ball tomorrow, I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep.
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