Alouette - Sex Stories

Alouette

Alouette did not need to shut her eyes, because the Prince was ravishing her from behind. He had her bent over the brothel’s elaborate chaise and had peeled every layer of her favourite stage-dress inside-out over her back. She closed her eyes to do as the other girls taught. To conjure up a lover and put him in the place of the client. Then the juices might flow, and it might not hurt so much. She evoked her ‘Rock’, the fantastical man of her dreams. The man she pictured in the audience when she stepped trembling onto the stage, a smile curling the scar on his cheek. The one who watched over her as she bathed; and whose deft, strong fingers she imagined in bed on troubled nights, while her sisters worked. Now his strength and calm appeared again, overpowering the Prince’s rushing, brutal thrust. The young royal overcompensated for a small manhood; Rock filled her deeply, but tenderly, and Alouette’s fingers reprised his at her bud. Soon she burst little sighs, just like the breathy prayers her sisters made to their own phantoms. The shock of the visiting Prince plucking Alouette, their treasure, from her protected place on the stage, had filled the brothel with gloom. While waiting in a private chamber, Madame had prepared Alouette personally, gently shaving her sex over a porcelain bowl until she looked like the other girls. This should have made her feel special, but instead the moment had a suffocating horror to it. Alouette was a singer. Just a singer. Madame’s thickly ...

... painted lips pressed into a hard line. “If someone – even someone as important as the Prince – is to de-flower you Gentille Aloutte then I will be by your side.” Then the royal party rapped at the bedroom door and she added in a hissing whisper, “You are the beauty that draws in and beguiles our guests, after all. I will not risk my livelihood for one spoilt royal!” Now, Alouette’s fantasy had gained such solidity that a crisis blossomed between her legs. But her mounting gasps only enflamed the Prince further. He gripped her naked hips and drove harder, until the obscene slapping together of their flesh sounded like a punishment, not love at all. Rock turned to thin, cold air. She glanced over at Madame, who had offered to service the royal guard, so staying close. Alouette hoped she might intercede, but found her guardian’s eyes closed in expertly portrayed bliss as the bodyguard nuzzled between her spread thighs. Alouette started to panic. They said the Prince might as well carry a pistol between his legs, for the girls who had received his climax always ‘disappeared’. There could be no risk of royal bastards turning up at the palace to claim the throne. Alouette may be inexperienced but she had lived in a brothel all her twenty years. She knew well enough when a man was about to peak. The Prince started panting, then to Alouette’s horror blurted, “Madame! This girl… may receive… the royal seed!” Madame opened one eye. She shook her head emphatically at Alouette, tapping ...