Author: Marcus Huttning
About: One of the few '50s-era, Paris books, not by Olympia that's worth republishing. Originally released by the Montmarte-based "Oceanic Press," Huttning's Linda, for whatever it lacks in, umm, editing, more than makes up for it with style, thoroughness and imagination.
The Linda of the story is a young girl on holiday at her Uncle Arthur's. Before she meets up with him, there's an encounter with a maid, a young virile cousin, then memorable scene(s) in her uncle's (a quiet-mannered author of guess what) study, comparisons with her sister, punishment, big parties, and so on. Clearly the author means well, and has read not a few of de Sade's writings.
They swam softly and evenly for about fifteen minutes. Lola noticed
that Linda was tiring and she headed for shore. They reached another
small inlet bordered by shrubs and deep-green pines. Lola waded ashore.
Linda staggered after her, completely out of breath, puffing happily.
“Say, you swim quickly.”
“Not so badly.” Lola responded modestly stretching her body from side
to side to attain some warmth from the slightly cool air. The sun
peeked out from a white passing cloud and appeared in the azure blue.
“How about some sun for awhile?”
Linda was already face down in the warm white sand. She watched her
companion take off her bikini. Then shedding off the two briefs
revealed a torso completely browned with health giving color.
The adolescent couldn't take her eyes off the dark tanned nipples
that extended at the end of the ample breasts. Once her eyes did leave
that fine massive proportion of bodily splendor it roamed down to the
mass of hair that covered Lola's lower body. It was light-brown and
frizzled due to the sharp rays of the sun.
The tuft of hair gave her a marvelous animal quality. It demonstrated
her vigor. Yes, the superb nest was her animal fur and it dripped with
the last drops of the sea that melted on her warm delicious torso.
The two woman remained in the sun quietly. Not a word was spoken and
they listened to the lapping sound of the surf.
Linda lay on her belly scanning the marvels of sun-worshipping Lola
who was stretched on her back in all her nude glory.
The young girl was surprised to see her own hand, as though guided by
an unknown sorcerer, rubbed leisurely up against Lola's thigh.
Linda held her breath, but Lola didn't move. She wasn't sure if she
was suffering from sunstroke or a rash impulse, but her hand kept
moving along the thigh until it reached the border line of Lola's pubic
hair. She felt as though a wonderful current were passing through her
fingers into the very veins of her body.
Boldly Linda moved in on her friend who received her in her arms with
a wide sensual smile. Suddenly the two women were startled by some
voices coming from the brush.
Linda sprung to her feet her face red with shame. Had someone seen
them together? She still was festered with her bourgeois education.
Lola merely looked around tranquilly while seated on her famous rear
and two elbows.
“That's probably Bert and Alice. They are really like two overheated
dogs the way they go at it.” She seemed to visualize the young couple
as an engaging smile formed around her mouth.
“What are they doing back there?” Linda suspected what they may be
doing, but she wanted to hear it from Lola's own lips.
“But, my dear, it's quite simple. Bert is only fornicating with our
adorable maid. I must say that for a boy of his age he isn't lacking in
certain qualities. As for that matter, Alice isn't either.”
She giggled and smiled as she listened to the muffled voices with
their effortless moans behind the bush.
Linda was dumbstruck and she couldn't find the courage to return to
the outstretched position she had taken on the warm, form-fitting sand.
Lola jerked her head up at once and concluded.
“Come along, we'll surprise them. The naughty children. For shame.”
She sprung to her legs with a teasing expression on her face.
She took Linda by the hand and practically dragged her by force to
the wooded area. Linda followed like some one in a lethargic state, who
vaguely has the sensation that something strange is going to happen.
At the brink of the pines, Lola pointed to a spot that was encircled
by brush. She put her finger to her lips in signification that she
wished the utmost silence. They two tip-toed cautiously, moving in on