Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Titles From Tom Beckett #5

Citizen Kandy Kane


Voltaire was horny. Partway anyway, because at his age horniness was of the mind rather than of the body. He managed, every so often, to bridge the gap with a variety of stimulants — books, Oriental woodcuts & paintings, the occasional visit to one of the erotic entertainment salons discretely scattered around Paris — but they didn’t always produce the effect he desired.

Tonight he had been especially horny. Writing polemic tracts presaging the Revolution he knew was inevitable always stirred him, brought him halfway out of his chair as it were. He’d decided to visit a place he had only just been made aware of, a salon that needed at least ten references to gain entry to, that featured young country lasses escaping the bucolic life, mainly shepherdesses, les bergères, in girl-on-girl or beast-on-girl action.

One especially had captured his attention. She’d performed alone — well almost alone. She had a prop, a shortened shepherd’s crook painted revolving stripes of pink & white. She’d done things with it that he didn’t think were possible, that had aroused him in ways he’d forgotten existed. He had to have her.

He called her over. Ever libertine, ever egalitarian, never fraternal, a mix that made him rise courteously as she approached, & accidently tip the table over as his erection caught it.

“Citizen” he said. “What is your name?”

She smiled at him, all innocence except for her eyes, & twirled her crook as if it were a cane. “Candide” she replied.

1 Comments:

Blogger Geof Huth said...

Mark,

What a great last line. Stunning little piece: the details, the elan, the bawdiness.

Good show.

Geof

8:47 AM  

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