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Night Of The Courtesane
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Night Of The Courtesane
A Dream that's more than a dream.
Story with a twist.
Charles F Kane
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (4)
Loving Gloria (Poetry) Ugly love.. [111 words] [Erotic]
Runnin' For Freedom (Short Stories) A shortstory about Charlie and his quest for freedom. [3,800 words] [Literary Fiction]
The Bukowski Curse (Poetry) A Cynical, dark view on the world. [108 words] [Literary Fiction]
Those Old Men (Short Stories) A serious theme to ponder about, as we become may become the old men I describe in the first part of the prose.. [424 words] [Spiritual]
Night Of The Courtesane
Charles F Kane
There’s a museum close where I live, an old building that rises majestically above every other building I remember first time I went there I saw this painting. It hung on the western wall, and stood out from the rest of the paintings there. She looked right straight back at me, a woman clad in the finest gown. She was holding a fan in her begloved hand, demurely held up towards her face.
But what I most remember was her face, exquisite like a marble doll. I fell in love with her, right then and there..Yeah, I know it seems strange to fall in love with a painting. But I just could not forget her face. After a few days I began wondering who she had been, where she had lived and what fate had befallen her. Thinking about her one night I suddenly fell asleep, and I dreamed.
Finding myself to be a gentleman of stature, I looked around the ballroom I suddenly was standing in. I could hear chamber music in the air and see people dancing. A hand touch my shoulder lightly and this sweet voice asked me; «Would you like to dance?».
She stood behind me, the lady from the painting. Smiling just as demurely she gazed at me as if wanting to repeat the question. «I would be honored to dance with you, milady»; I replied and kissed her hand. Before long we were engaged in a sensual waltz, I lead while she followed lightly like she was a pixie in the summerbreeze. Her gown was more exquisite than I had ever been able to interpret from the painting. It felt like the finest silk and velvet. Her skin, her hand, was warm. She played demure, but I could feel that she was of a wilder nature than she would let on. But most women would play that game, I felt.
The night went on, and we danced the hours away. Having eyes for noone else than us, everything else seemed to dissappear. Nothing else really mattered that night. The ball eventually ended and I was invited to follow her to her estate. She had a cart worthy of an empress, the finest ebony with inlaid gold. We drank the best wine while the cart rolled away into the night, so that when we came to her estate we both had become quite tipsy to be honest. After stumbling our way up the avenue, her servant let us both in.
«Would you like to join me in my boudoir, my good sir?»; her eyes twinkled towards me with a wickedness that surprised me, honestly speaking. She lead me up to her evening-room on the second-floor. The room was lavishly furnished with dark red velvet carpets and curtains, gold-plated chairs with velvet pillows, a soft double bed that made promises for a very good night indeed. «I never got your name, milady»; I said while I helped her slowly undress herself. She had turned her back to me so that I could unlace her corset. Her gown was already on the floor, leaving me with full view with her perfect legs, thighs, back, shoulders, neck. I kissed her neck and felt the perfume she was wearing, an enticing and alluring scent. Slowly and expectantly I unlaced her corset,revealing more and more of the delicate flesh within. «I never did tell you my name either, my good sir»; she said while turning around.
She was completely naked now, her body shone towards me. Two ample breasts, a slim tummy and hips from the stuff of dreams. She stretched herself over her bed, while playing with her pussy. As I moved towards her bed she suddenly said; «Not yet, my boy, only watch». And I watched, feeling my organ harden while doing so, as she played with herself, closing her eyes and moaning low each time she touch a particularly sensitive spot on her body. She invited me to sit on the bed with her, stroking herself as well as stroking me.. Slowly driving me mad with desire, she enticed me further and further. But always in her pace, always on her terms.
Willingly I continued her play, following her every move, her every lead. She laid her left hand on my head and laid it between her breasts, whereupon I kissed them both with a hunger greater than I had ever felt before. No doubt she knew how to enthrall men with her alluring attraction. She had me completely in her control, mercilessly.
She slowly stood up and began undressing me even more slowly than I had her, removing my frock first and then unbuttoning my silk shirt, one button at a time. After removing my frock and shirt she gently pushed me back and began removing my trousers. I could hear the velvet rub against my skin , making me even more arroused. She smiled as my Don Thomas revealed himself, straight as a soldier on guard. Tickling it lightly, her touch sent shivers of pleasure up and down my spine like lightningbolts through my body. Continuing with that for a long time, he had me captivated by desire unfulfilled before she slowly stradled me. We spent rest of the night making such love that I had never felt before. I wasn’t sure which was better, the foreplay or the actual lovemaking. Before long we were both asleep on the bed.
When I woke up I was in my own couch again, fully dressed in my modern-day clothes wondering where I was and what had happened. It took a few minutes before I realised that I had only dreamed. As it was still night I decided to go to the bedroom and rest.
The next morning I wandered over to the museum to take another look at the painting, only to find that it was gone. I asked the guard about the painting. «Oh, that painting, oh yes, that was sold just after you left. Lovely painting. Do you know who the lady was?».. I shook my head. He told me the story.. The woman had been one of the courtesanes of King Louis XIV, one of the many he enjoyed during his lifetimes. Infact, she had been his favourite courtesane. But she met an unfortunate end when she was caught having had relationship with an unknown man in the court. King Louis XIV had had her imprisoned and then beheaded as a punishment. «What was her name then? and who was this man?». The guard told; «Her name was Jeanette, but her unknown consort became just that.. unknown. Noone knows what became of him or if his name ever was revealed.. All that is known is that they only had one night together, a night of incredible passion».
I was stunned by his story. Was this dream more than a dream? To this day I have never really found out. But I choose to think that maybe, just maybe, that night I became her consort.
But there was one thing I never told anyone before now. After the dream that night, I found something lying in my pocket. A white lace-glove, like those fine ladies would wear in the time of Louis XIV. And to this day I still keep it, as a keepsake.
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© 2006 Charles F Kane
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