' Is that not enough? You have touched me, now will you not give your consent?'
' I have to get my tongue into you…'
' Your tongue?' She seemed not to understand.
I explained. ' My tongue indeed, and I propose to keep it there until you discharge.'
She pondered the matter, then sighed, ' Oh, all the things you' ve done to me! You were the cause of my dreams.'
Lying down upon the bed, she resigned herself. ' Satisfy yourself,' said she, ' and do not deceive me. I wish to be a maid upon my wedding day. Monsieur Vitnegre is a widower and Madame Comprenant says he knows all about these articles, whether they' re new or used.' During this speech I was feasting my eyes upon that ravishing article, upon the sight of a belly modeled like Aphrodite' s and as white as ivory, of an alabaster thigh, of a satin- smooth ass.
' Make haste,' said she.
' I' m composing an inventory of all the goods we are to deliver to your Monsieur Vitnegre, and everything appears to be in first- rate condition, excepting for one thing I' ll tell you about. But let' s-' Then I was completely carried away. I sucked her furiously, keeping a sharp eye open for the gushing descent of her virginal liquor, awaiting that instant to hurl myself upon her and encunt her. She came with the sixth thrust of my tongue, but came with a well nigh unbelievable abundance: Could this be? I wondered. However, the merry jig she danced convinced me it could be nothing else, wherewith, abandoning her cunt, I leapt upon her, mad with pleasure. I am fully certain she would have given me a free rein, but her unpracticed cunt, although well wetted by her fuck and my saliva, was not to be penetrated. I had not yet acquired the skill needed to make one' s way into certain virgins whose cracks require to be greased with pommade or fresh butter. At last, she seized my prick, attempting to oust me; gripped in her soft white hand, my prick spat forth its charge and I soaked her fingers, her cunt, her belly, her thighs with a spray of fuck. A tidy thing – she always kept herself spick and span – she broke free of me and ran off to wash herself.
' Who would ever suppose,' I exclaimed as I watched her rinse and wipe her ass, thighs, and cuntlet, ' that I' d been futtering you?'
' If,' Conquette Ingenue retorted, ' if you were only reasonable you' d give me that pleasant licking as often as you wish, for, upon my soul, it does delight me.'
' Well said,' I declared and, fondling her cunt, I had her dart her tongue into my mouth.
' But,' she went one, ' no more of that other thing which left a mess in what I' ve just been washing. I want to be an honest woman.'
' You owe your pretty cunt to your father,' I observed to my charming daughter.
' If you were rich, I' d give up my plans to marry and I' d devote myself to your pleasures. But I must have a husband if I am to cease to be a burden to you.'
Touched by her words, I showered her with kisses from head to toe: slippered feet, legs, forehead, eyes, mouth, nipples, thighs, ass. I kept relentlessly at it until she discharged. That done, I affixed my signature to every paper she brought before me; I adored her.
She went off and married and for three months avoided seeing me. Such conduct infuriated me, and I swore I' d fuck her and make her fuck if I were ever to get my hands upon her again. I' d fuck her a thousand and one times over before I' d forgive her for abandoning me so monstrously, so unnaturally. But little did I know that she was already unhappy.
Victoire Conquette, since her mother' s death, had been living in the country with her Aunt Genovefette, at the time married to her latest keeper. Having no cunt to which to devote myself, I wrote to have Victoire sent home without delay. While awaiting her arrival, I made myself comfortable with a pair of cunts, which I succeeded in perforating with the help of some pommade. These fetching targets belonged to the sister and the mistress of my secretary, an excellent lad who himself put them at my disposal, in such wise as shall be seen in due time. He and I had hitherto been fucking his elderly motherin- law, preferring not to resort to whores.
When Victoire returned, I ordered shoes with high slender heels made for her as I had done for Ingenue. She caused me as stout an erection as her sister had. But I was not interested in deflowering her. I simply employed her as an hors- d' oeuvre, to whet my palate and put me in form for heavier undertakings: the encuntment, more vigorously executed thanks to Victoire' s ministry, of Minonne and Connette, respectively the sister and mistress of Trait- d' Amour, my secretary, or of Trait- d' Amour' s mother- in- law. To prepare myself for these enterprises I would have Victoire, gaily clothed and of course shod, enter the room. I would seize her by the skirts and seat her on my knees, being myself nude, if circumstances permitted. My trousers down, if trousers I was wearing, I would have myself caressed, given a few licks of the tongue. If I chanced to be naked, my prick would wedge itself between her thighs and commence to waggle up and down, to left and right. If she were fully dressed I would have her fist my prick and, she being exceedingly innocent, say to her: ' Oh, my pretty one, squeeze my finger tight, tighter still!' Minonne, Connette, or the mother- in- law, one of the three, would always arrive. Trait- d' Amour would go off to summon one of them as soon as he saw me encloset myself with Victoire. Hearing their approach, I would, by a hidden door, convey the charming little one to her room. Then I' d return for a delicious fuck in which Trait- d' Amour would participate by tickling my balls. Once I was done, he would straightaway encunt whomever I had possessed and in my turn I would tickle his balls.
This life would have suited me for a long time – even though it was a life led without my beloved Conquette Ingenue, who had become Madame Vitnegre – had my sisters Genovefette and Marie not decided that it was indecent for me to keep Victoire alone with me in the house. They joined forces and obliged me to apprentice her to a lingerie merchant and his wife, perhaps the most virtuous and Godfearing couple in Paris. Madame Beauconin led little Victoire away to her new guardians.
Fortunately the good Fanfan a few days before, had introduced me to a superb woman who was separated from her husband and hence wildly amorous. Victoire knew nothing of my latest acquisition, and this lovely woman, supposing that my heart belonged to Victoire, fucked beneath me like a she- devil, calling me her papa and bidding me. ' Stuff her, stuff your beloved Victoire, your passionate and tender daughter.'
Chapter Five
But the moment was approaching when I was to recover Conquette Ingenue; my keenest desire, even as I lay in the arms of Madame Maresquin (Victoire' s friend) was to make a cuckold of Vitnegre.
There came a day when I encountered my Conquette on the Pont Notre- Dame. She was most distraught, very tearful, and she cast herself into my arms. I was deeply moved and all my former anger evaporated at once. Although aggrieved, my delicious daughter was still beautiful, perhaps the more so for her unhappiness. My first impulse was to lay firm hold of her cunt, but I checked myself, for we were in the street. I went to see her the next evening, at the hour she had told me her husband, or rather her monster, was never at home. I did indeed find her alone and in the course of that first visit she confessed to me she had taken a lover. Infinitely pleased by this avowal, which proclaimed Vitnegre' s cuckoldry, I flattered her, spoke sweet nothings, coaxed her, got her to agree to open her cunt to Timon, her beau. But soon after I gathered this was a purely Platonic attachment wherein Conquette found consolation for the brutalities of a thoroughgoing debauchee by recounting her woes to a soft- pricked but sincere and spiritual poet. She liked to speak of her undemanding and patient lover, and as I was the only one with whom she could safely discuss these questions, I promised her I would arrange secret interviews for them. She was in seventh heaven.
On my second visit, Conquette mentioned some of Vitnegre' s recent infamies. Upon one occasion, stooping down to pick up something from the floor, he had one of his friends seize her cunt. She had protested.
' Why, it' s merely a cunt you' ve got there in your hand,' Vitnegre said coolly to his colleague, ' Didn' t I tell you her cunthair is softer than silk? Well, old man, would you believe it? The inside is softer still.'
Conquette wished to leave the room but he caught her brutally by the arm, had her climb aboard him, drew her skirts high up above her thighs and clutched her cunt in his hand, bringing it into clear view of his friend and frigging her betimes. While all this was going on he described how much pleasure she was able to give her partner when she chose to be agreeable.
' But,' he added, ' she' s like every other whore: you' ve got to give her a good thrashing to make her do her
