That night at the hotel, I thought about the whole past day. After the episode around the River Seine, Mme. Lagalice took a taxi and went home. Alone. I walked back to my hotel and lied on my bed. I wanted to inquire about her health, and I texted her. In the meanwhile, I wanked thinking of her foot, but more thinking of her telling me to lick it. Her words were sounding in my head: lick it, lick it, lick it, bastard! I think I added the bastard part myself.
She took more than an hour to answer. I read it while I was eating at the Pomme de Pain. She was all right, and she gave me a rendezvous for the next day at the Ritz. I didn't know what to expect, so I downloaded the "Guide for the inexperienced boy" from Malin Kreuzmann. I had already had sex with women, or so I though, during High School. But none of the three and a half experiences were satisfactory. First it was a very close friend that I knew since my infancy, and it was probably more exploring than real sex. The second time it was a girl that almost raped me in Summer camp. The third and last was with my "girlfriend", or what she and others called her, as I was not very sure the term was adequate for such a relationship in which we didn't have sex, only one time and I ejaculated just as I penetrated her. The fourth time was when I went to one of the Porn-booths in Hamburg and somebody sucked me from the other side of a gloryhole. I hope it was a woman.
So, as it was stated in the guide, I took a shower and put clean underwear. As soon as I was arriving to the hotel, she texted me the name and location of her suite. When I arrived, the door was ajar and the room lights off, but some candles lit. As soon as I closed the door she appeared. She was wearing a latex outfit and holding what looked like a whip. Sit down! She ordered, and as I didn't want to upset my mistress, I left my rucksack on the table and sat on one couch. There was music playing, I think it was Chopin, but I am not so sure. Now I could see her completely: she was wearing black leather boots and a matching leather leotard. Her bustier let her breasts show, and as I didn't see them before, they were ample. Her waist was also very thin, and I could not ever have guessed she had such a proportioned body under her library-clerk clothes.
She came to me with a bottle, probably from the mini bar and ordered me to open my mouth. I obeyed and slurped the whole content. I guess it was gin. Or vodka. I could never tell.
She started to move slowly, not dancing, not walking, but more like a lioness that was going after her prey. She put one of her boots on my chest, very elastically, and ordered me to lick it. Her heel was hurting me a little bit, but it was the right kind of pain. She let slip the liquid of another bottle, like Salma Hayek in "From Dusk till Dawn", but over her boot. I drunk what arrived into my mouth. She ordered me to unzip her boot and lick her feet again.
After that I obeyed her orders: getting full naked, kneeling, don't looking at her in the eyes, call her ma maitresse…
"Je suis Agathe, ta maitresse", she uttered.
"Oui, ma maitresse…", I answered.
We had a very long session. That's how people call them, and I had to learn. She didn't touch me herself but used a feather or her whip to go all over my body. Sometimes I thought I was close to come, especially when she was giving me orders, but then she stopped and restart after a while. I accepted willingly to be tied to the bed, and I could see myself on the ceiling mirror: a tall, nerdy well-proportioned white boy being sexually used. I almost came from the thought.
We discovered that I had a great pleasure when she was gently whipping my testicles, and that is how she got me: I finally ejaculated as I hadn't done during the whole Summer Camp while being afraid that other guys will notice I was masturbating in the 20 boys dorm.