Elizabeth 03: The Art Student

"Of course you can learn how," Elizabeth said. "It is simply a matter of being comfortable with yourself and exploring a bit."

"I suppose it is not the sort of thing one can ask for help from friends with," Agnes groused.

Elizabeth and Irene exchanged thoughtful glances. After a pregnant pause, Elizabeth asked, "Irene, are you going to meet Benjamin tonight?"

"He is out of town on business. And I take it you will not be seeing Jonathan?"

"My own fault, but perhaps a girls' night in is in order," Elizabeth concurred.

Agnes was beyond embarrassment now, giggling uncontrollably.

The baths being rather too crowded for the usual intimate experience that afternoon, Elizabeth, Irene and Agnes bade the other women good evening not long afterward. They retired to the café up the block for dinner, accompanied by two carafes of wine. "Believe me, Agnes, a healthy dose of this will help things go much more smoothly for all of us," Elizabeth explained as she poured a glass for her young friend. Agnes did not need to be persuaded. In the cab through the rainy evening back to the mansion afterward, her inhibitions were gone in an alcoholic haze.

When the joyous trio bustled in through the front door, Elizabeth took hold of her faculties just long enough to take note of the light from the sitting room beside the stairwell. Mustn't offer Mrs. Marlston yet another cause for disliking her, she knew, and she shushed Irene and Agnes for the walk up the main hallway.

It was all for nought, though, for just before they reached the foot of the stairs, Mrs. Marlston's voice rang out in disdainful clarity from within the sitting room: "There goes the little harlot now."

Elizabeth ignored the barb and focused her gaze on the stairs, while Irene and Agnes exchanged bewildered glances. Before they could make their escape, however, Mr. Marlston appeared in the doorway with a concerned look on his face. "Elizabeth," he said, not unkindly, "A word?"

Elizabeth waved Irene and Agnes up the stairs, and turned to follow Mr. Marlston into his study. It was chilly, as he had not lit the fire there for the evening. Elizabeth stood on the carpet waiting for the door to click behind her, and feeling like a soldier at court martial. Defiantly, though, as soon as the door was shut she spoke up. "Mr. Marlston, I have done nothing to your wife –"

"Relax, Elizabeth," the older gentleman interrupted. "It is I who wish to apologize to you for my wife's behaviour." He stopped by his desk to pour a glass of whiskey. "Would you like a drink?"

"Please." The wine was beginning to wear off, and Elizabeth now realized she had best be a bit uninhibited for what she was about to teach Agnes. Mr. Marlston handed the glass to her and poured a second one. "Thank you, sir."

"Elizabeth," he said, leaning against his desk. "I have given a great deal of thought to our conversation the other day, and I have concluded that you were right to stand up to me about Joy the way you did. That is why my wife is angry at you. This is my fault, and I shall have a word with her about keeping a civil tongue in her head."

"Well...thank you for that." Elizabeth knew not what else to say, and she took a long sip of the drink.

Mr. Marlston chuckled. "Heavens, women today can even drink like men. I mean that in a good way, I assure you." He paused to take a sip of his own. "Elizabeth, I understand there is a presentation in the city this weekend by a gentleman just back from Africa somewhere, lots of photographs and stories and whatnot, about the life of an adventurer. Joy is desperate to attend but her mother would never allow it. I wonder, would you do me the favour of accompanying Joy to the event? I shall tell her mother you and Jonathan took her for a ride in the country or some such."

"I would love to do that!" Elizabeth said. "Certainly! But Mr. Marlston, I should not want to be the cause of any further discord between yourself and your wife. Surely Joy will want to talk about nothing else for days afterward."

"Elizabeth, you are committing the error of assuming my wife listens to our children closely enough to understand fully what they are talking about."

"Heavens, that is sad," Elizabeth said, and she downed the last of her whiskey.

"Yes it is, but this life has trials for us all," Mr. Marlston followed her lead in draining his glass. "In the event, Elizabeth, should she learn the truth, I have been coping with her reactions to such things for seventeen years. I shall see to it that no harm comes to you or to Joy."

"Very well, then, and thank you," Elizabeth said. "Mr. Marlston, not that it is any of my business, I am sorry you have to tiptoe around your wife like this just to give your children a glimpse at the life they want."

Mr. Marlston shrugged as he collected the two glasses to leave for the maid. "Marriage can be a hairy ride, Elizabeth. I hope you and Jonathan keep that in mind."

Elizabeth was nearly certain he gave her a knowing look on the word "hairy". But she was a bit drunk, and as usual there was no way to prove it. She held her nervous laughter in until she was safely alone on the stairs. But she could not hold back the blush in her face, and she was grateful that the study was dark.

Arriving in her room, Elizabeth was pleased to see Irene had taken the liberty of lighting the fire. "I wonder how many more nights this will be necessary before spring is here to stay," Irene was saying to Agnes as Elizabeth appeared in the doorway.

"Hardly a time to discuss the weather, is it?" Elizabeth asked with a grin as she locked the door behind her. As the fire began warming the chilly room, she turned to Agnes and asked, "Are you sure you wish to do this? Irene and I would never want to make you uncomfortable."

Agnes was sitting expectantly on the edge of Elizabeth's favourite chair by the fire. "Never in my life have I been more eager to learn. One hears so many stories of great pleasure to be had, and Edward won't even share my bed for the time being...yes, I am quite sure!"

Elizabeth and Irene were both standing by the fire. Their eyes met in an uncertain glance, at which point they both burst into peals of nervous laughter.

"I gather you have never done this together either," Agnes said.

"We are best friends, Agnes, but there was never any need to share this," Elizabeth explained.

"Not until now," Irene said. "No one deserves to be deprived of the joy you are missing, and I cannot imagine a better co-teacher on this topic." Before she could lose her nerve, Irene unbuttoned her trousers once again and slid them down her legs along with her short pants. She folded them and sat barebottom on the carpet by the fire, legs spread as wide as she could. "Some women like to lie on the bed and rub against a pillow, but I prefer to use my hands," she explained to Agnes, running both hands lightly over her prominent vulva to let Agnes know it was acceptable to look. "It makes me feel more in control when I can touch exactly where I wish to, and at just the right pressure..." Irene's voice trailed away as she worked herself into a pleasant lather.

"I prefer it that way, too," Elizabeth declared. Agnes was shaken out of her fascination with Irene, and looked up to see Elizabeth was well on the way to removing all her clothes. "You may keep as many of your clothes on as you wish, Agnes," she said as she was undressing. "But you might find it more comfortable to at least remove your short pants."

Agnes did not answer, for she was feeling almost mesmerized as she sat in the chair and wondered just what was to happen next. Though she was accustomed by now to seeing Elizabeth in the nude, her two new friends' brazenness continued to impress her. As she watched Elizabeth sit back on her bed with her knees up and her legs spread wide and begin stroking herself just as Irene had done, Agnes felt the first stirrings of a pleasant tickle she had often felt before, but had never known just how to address – or maybe she had simply been ashamed to try. Elizabeth and Irene were anything but ashamed, she saw, and as they began to masturbate, Agnes heeded Elizabeth's advice. She stood halfway up, reached under her skirt and pulled off her short pants before plopping warily back in her seat.

"Now, maybe you need to imagine a steamy situation or two to get things started," Elizabeth said to Agnes. "A favourite location for yourself and Edward, for example, and you can imagine making love to him there."

"There is a pond behind our family's property where I have often imagined swimming naked with him," Agnes admitted.

"And how do you feel when you imagine that?" Irene prompted her. She was still stroking herself gently.

"I feel...worked up," Agnes said. "Imagining that wonderful intimacy with Edward just makes me want to burst! It makes me very energetic, and I just want to...do something to let the energy out! But then I feel embarrassed and silly once I calm down. Dirty, even."

"I remember feeling that way," Irene said. "Don't you, Elizabeth?"

"I certainly do," Elizabeth answered. "But there's nothing to feel ashamed of in being aroused, Agnes. It's part of being an adult, one of the best parts actually. Now, go ahead and imagine that now: a beautiful day at the pond, only you and Edward, and neither of you wearing a stitch of clothing. Maybe you're talking about how you feel together, maybe there is no need to talk and you just enjoy looking at his body – whichever you prefer, Agnes. And when you feel like you want to burst..." She pointed at Irene, who had her eyes closed by then and was rubbing herself harder than before. "Just do what she is doing, and you will burst in the most delightful way!"

Agnes wondered, was Irene imagining her – Agnes – and Edward together in the pond at that moment?! Much later, she would learn that, no, Irene was imagining herself fingering both Benjamin and Elizabeth, side by side, one hand in each of their well-hidden nether regions. ("I had occasion to see them nude together once, actually," Irene would explain, not knowing Elizabeth had already told Agnes of their weekend at the country resort some months before. "He's as hairy as she is down there, maybe even more so, and you should have seen the looks on their faces when they saw one another – inspiring and funny all at once. And very hot! I just wanted to run my fingers through both their bushes at once.") All Agnes knew at the time, however, was that Irene was mired deep in a joyful fantasy of some sort and that she was rubbing herself so hard between the legs that it appeared to hurt, for she was also grunting out loud. Agnes even detected a sheen of what looked like sweat glistening among the delicate folds of Irene's vagina.

Agnes was fascinated and a bit disturbed, though she now recognized her own arousal growing. "Is she hurting herself?" she asked Elizabeth, who was by then rubbing herself more gently as well.

"Not at all," Elizabeth said. "Try it, you'll see you want to make those noises as well because it feels so intensely good. It's a release, nothing more."

"How do I know just where to touch?" Agnes asked.

"Feel around, and I promise you will find it," Elizabeth reassured her. As if to demonstrate, Elizabeth spread her legs out wider and reached down with her left hand to join her right. As Elizabeth reached her fingers through vast thatch of hair, Agnes could make out the pinkish lips that she rubbed carefully with both hands. As she did so, Elizabeth began making similar noises to Irene's increasingly loud ones from the floor, and Agnes could see her fingers and pubes now glistening with the same sort of wetness she had noticed with Irene. Agnes was aware that her own impure thoughts of the past had often been accompanied by a mess of sorts that she had done her best to ignore in the shameful aftermath of her fantasizing – could that have been it?

Finally allowing herself to be overcome with the lovely image of Edward standing before her on the edge of the pond, just as beautifully naked as Elizabeth had been in the studio, Agnes reached under her dress and explored gingerly. She found that her suspicion had been right: she was indeed moist between her thighs. A barrier of sorts was blasted to pieces in her mind as she realized what the wetness meant and embraced it without shame. Not wanting to stain Elizabeth's chair, she slid to the floor and leaned back against it, her skirt now gathered up around her waist as she felt around her vulva in search of the magical spot that Irene had been so good at finding.

Elizabeth had been right: Agnes knew when her fingers had found the spot. As both of her mentors were moaning and grunting quite loudly by then, Agnes did not realize at first that she had joined the primal chorus. Only when she caught her breath at the end of the first vocalization did she open her eyes to see Elizabeth and Irene momentarily distracted from their own intimate thoughts.

"I believe she has found it, Irene," Elizabeth said.

"Indeed, and congratulations," Irene concurred. "Doesn't that feel beautiful!"

"It does," Agnes said, and with that she threw caution to the wind and rubbed a bit harder. "Ohhh! That's it! The bursting."

"Oh, you haven't burst yet, my dear," Irene told her. "You are only getting started."

"How will I know when I've finished?"

"You won't need us to tell you when you have," Elizabeth reassured her. "Shall we all reach for that together, Irene?"

"Lovely idea," Irene said, and she reverted to caressing herself intensely. Elizabeth followed her lead, and Agnes trusted that she would understand in due time and did the same. There were lingering echoes of shame as she exulted in her own joyful touch, but her friends' exultant noises inspired Agnes to give in completely, and she was at long last aware of her own breathing growing heavy and then outright audible. Closing her eyes tightly, Agnes once again saw Edward before her, wading in the pond in his raw masculine glory. His eyes admired her own bare body as she splashed about playfully, and his cock was rigid and pointing lustily at her. With a confident flair, she reached out and took the unfamiliar erotic toy in her tight but gentle grip, and enjoyed the look of ecstasy on his face as she gave it a squeeze...and felt his own loving hands on her body, caressing her in all the ways she had so often wished he would, and to date he never had.

Agnes' concentration was interrupted, but not broken, by the awareness of Elizabeth's voice growing louder and more intense than ever. As if on cue, Irene followed suit, perhaps even more loudly. Agnes envied the intensity they seemed to have achieved, and longed to be able to feel as much herself. She did not feel such envy for very long, however, for moments later she felt herself borne up in a fit of uncontrollable delight as she imagined Edward's hands on her at last. The waves of pleasure now being so strong she could scarcely tolerate them, she cried out just as loudly as Irene had as she felt the climax wash over her. An intense rush came forth from deep within, and pleasure turned to panic as Agnes suddenly feared she was about to make water on the carpet. She clasped both hands tightly over her vulva, but it was too late and there was no turning back the tide.

The panic passed as Agnes became aware there had been no flood, and she opened her eyes. Elizabeth and Irene were both regarding her with gentle smiles. "No, you did not wet yourself," Irene reassured her. "It only feels that way for a moment."

"Is that what you thought?" Elizabeth asked, not unkindly. "I had never thought of it that way myself."

"I did, when I was younger," Irene said. She stood up and brought Agnes a towel she had set aside for wiping her hands dry. "I can recall discussing it with my school chums, how if you rub yourself just so, it makes you feel like you need to wee."

"If I didn't need to, then just what was that?" Agnes asked.

"It is called an orgasm, and there is nothing but joy in it," Elizabeth told her. She had arisen from her bed by then and donned her bathrobe. "Once you have had a bit of practice, I promise you will never again worry about making a mess."

"Even on my fingers?" Agnes asked as she mopped her own secretions off her hands.

"Perhaps with that exception," Irene said with a laugh; she was doing the same with a towel of her own. "Come, we can wash our hands down the hall, and then I suppose I should take leave of you both."

"Nonsense, Irene," Elizabeth said; she did not want the delicious goodwill of the evening to give way to any further petty jealousy. "We said it was to be a girls' night in, and so it shall be. You are more than welcome to sleep here tonight. Agnes, you may return to your own room or you are welcome to join us here."

Elizabeth expected a protest from one or even both; but instead, they both looked delighted at the idea. And so with the fire roaring bright and warm and the intense intimacy lingering, they lay about on Elizabeth's bed and talked deep into the night. No topic was off limits, and no secret was too sacred to share. When at last it was unequivocally time to sleep – Agnes was the first to drop off, though she was revived long enough to undress herself – the matter of where to sleep was scarcely debated. Elizabeth's bed was large enough for all three of them. Though a poor excuse for falling asleep in Jonathan's arms, being sandwiched by her friends was quite pleasant in its own right. And Elizabeth felt safe in assuming there would be no jealousy among her two friends after that night.

In the morning, all three friends were still feeling the lingering effects of the wine. Agnes, who had little experience with liquor, was suffering the worst of it. But they were also still feeling the immense goodwill and trust they had built together, and so breakfast was a pleasant affair. Their arrival in the dining room coincided with the children eating the last of their breakfast, so Elizabeth was careful to hide her discomfort.

There was no need for worry; little Joy had heard of the outing at the weekend and was oblivious to all else. "Auntie Elizabeth!" she shrieked as the three women arrived in the dining room. "Father says you can take me to the African safari exhibit this weekend. Is it true?"

"It is true!" Elizabeth confirmed for her little friend, forcing a smile against her headache. "I am very much looking forward to it, Joy!"

"We all are," Alexandria grumbled across the table. "She won't shut up about it until then."

"Alexandria, that is enough," Came Sandrine's usual too-precise English from behind the French newspaper she was reading. "Let your sister be happy about her outing."

"That is good advice," Elizabeth said. "Do you want to join us on Saturday, Alexandria? I understand it is a wonderful exhibit."

Joy looked horrified at the prospect of her sister joining them, and then looked immensely relieved as Alexandria turned up her nose at the invitation. Elizabeth could not suppress a smile. Agnes admired the exchange from a safe distance. She adored her cousins, and her stay with him had her longing more than ever for a baby or two of her own. But she had been finding that topic a difficult one of late, and admiring Elizabeth's easy rapport with Joy had her feeling almost melancholy of a sudden. She was not sure whether it was her overindulgence of the night before, or the difficulty of imagining Edward as a willing and attentive father; but something about the children was giving her a renewed dose of the empty feeling that she had been feeling periodically for some days now.

Sandrine did not gather the children for the trip upstairs for some minutes, giving the three friends no opportunity to discuss the events of the evening before. And so they ate largely in silence until Edward arrived, shortly after the children had departed. "Good morning, ladies," he said with a great deal more perk than any of them were feeling.