"Picnic At Lac Du Sang" - читать интересную книгу автора (Masterton Graham)

Baubay got up from the table, and took Sophie and Minette by the hand.
Giggling, they led him out of the dining-room, into the hallway, and up
the stairs. Vincent could hear them laughing all the way along the
landing.
'Vincent, how about you?' asked Mme Leduc. 'Has any one of my girls caught
your eye yet?'
The blonde gave him a dreamy, creamy look, and rubbed his penis again.
Vincent didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he was too fascinated by the
shy brunette. He nodded down the table and said, 'I don't even know her
name, but if she doesn't mind - ?'
The blonde immediately pushed his erection back into his pants and tugged
up his zipper, almost catching him in it. 'Look, I'm sorry,' he said, 'I
think you're stunning, but - '
'But you prefer Catherine, I know. I've seen you staring at her.'
'Catherine?' said Vincent, and the girl looked toward him and nodded,
although she didn't smile. Vincent stood up and walked along the length of
the table and held out his hand.
'This is only if you want to,' he said.
'It is not her place to say if she wants to or not,' said Mme Leduc, with
a slight snap in her voice.
Catherine stood up, gathering up her white nightdress in front of her so
that it was raised above her knees. Vincent had never seen a girl so
beautiful or so quietly alluring, and he had certainly never met a girl so
subservient. She had a high, rounded forehead and huge violet eyes. Her
nose was straight with just a hint of a tilt at the end. Her lips were
full, as if she were pouting a little, but that suggestion of sulkiness
only aroused Vincent all the more.
'One girl will be sufficient?' asked Mme Leduc.
'Am I allowed to come back for seconds?'
Mme Leduc came up close to him and ran her hand up the back of his head,
like rubbing a cat's fur the wrong way. It was an electrifying feeling,
especially since he could feel her breast swaying against him through the
silk of her negligщe.
'Perhaps next time, I can amuse you myself.'
God, thought Vincent. Baubay was right. I feel like I've died and gone to
heaven.
Without a word, Catherine took his hand and led him out of the room. She
walked quite quickly on her pale bare feet, as if she were in a hurry. Her
hand was small and cool. She didn't lead him upstairs, but across the
hallway and along a corridor with a polished parquet floor. The corridor
was light, but all of the windows were covered with the same white blinds.

They reached a door at the end of the corridor and Catherine opened it.
Inside, Vincent found himself in a large downstairs bedroom. In the very
centre stood an iron-framed four-poster bed, draped with yards and yards
of white gauze curtains, and covered in giant-sized white feather pillows.
The only other furniture was a chaise-longue upholstered in plain cream
calico, a French-style closet painted in dragged white paint, a washbasin,
and a cheval mirror at the end of the bed, tilted in such a way that
whoever was lying on the bed could see themselves. On one wall hung a