After Ballet the Dance Begins

“Their voices were as pure as water gushing from an Alpine spring,” Frederick said. “And I drank deeply. Beautiful, beautiful.”
I had to hide my surprise. Throughout the performance he had constantly whispered jokes to me about castration and cross-dressing.
“Why thank you, Lieutenant,” Madam Anna curtsied.
Frederick took her fragile hand in his paw and drew it to his lips. “And you, my dear, look splendid on this magnificent occasion.”
I could have sworn that before he kissed her hand he surreptitiously flicked his tongue out like a chameleon and licked it. So fast was he, and so graceful Madam Anna in not being alarmed, I could not be sure.
“Who is this? Come, come, introduce us now,” Madam Anna started as she rose out of her curtsy. I blushed when I realised she meant me.
“Aaahhhhh,” Frederick hesitated. “This is my nephew, Max.”
“Charming. And also charmed,” she raised her hand for me to take as she curtsied. Was that spittle? I took it gently, as if it were a day old bird, and lightly brushed my lips across her skin.
“You are cold, Madam,” I stated.
“You have no idea,” Frederick guffawed. She glared at him for a moment then turned back to me.
“Yes, Max. I am cold. Would you like to warm me?”

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