opportunity to have a real good fest of Priapus.
Mary expressed the wish to go and see an old aunt in the country and said she would take Yvonne with her, to prevent that her old grandfather should feel even ever so little constrained by the girl's presence. As her situation was very independent, it was easily arranged and the old man did not even ask where she took his granddaughter.
On a fixed day Mary and Yvonne took the train for Rouen. At Poissy they met with Grosvit and then continued their journey to St. Germain. Grosvit had previously written for a set of rooms at Hotel Bellevue, opposite to the forest, with order to have lunch ready for himself, his wife and daughter. The apartment consisted of two adjoining bed rooms and a spacious drawing-room. A luxurious luncheon, an excellent wine and the consciousness of the fact, that all were longing for the moment they would be alone, nerved them to the highest degree. As soon as the waiter had retired, they rushed into each others arms and soon reveled in every luscious act of the hottest lust.
This sort of thing could not continue for a long while. After the most delicious fucking and gamahuching in every possible combination, they were all, especially the doctor, so exhausted that it was thought prudent to draw breath in order that they might fully enjoy their night together.
The went for a refreshing walk in the beautiful «Foret de Saint-Germain» and returned just in time to dress for dinner, which they had ordered in their own room.
Yvonne was very disappointed. She fancied they were going to indulge in a night and day's incessant voluptuousness and she found it was not at all so. They had been walking in the wood like respectable gentlefolks.
Dinner over, sipping their aromatic cup of mocha and smoking a perfumed cigarette, Mary took to relate the exiting story of her first youth. They had resolved to abstain from any sort of voluptuousness till bedtime, but the narration became so inciting, that Grosvit, while listening pulled out his throbbing prick and placed it in Yvonne's ready hand, while he put an arm under each woman's petticoats and gently titillated their cunts.
The tale was often interrupted by some bawdy remark from the doctor or a curious question from Yvonne, but we prefer to leave out these and give a connected narrative of Mary's first experiences.
She began, as follows:
«My father belonged to the Bar. He was considered wealthy and lived in great style at Cherbourg, where I have passed part of my childhood. My mother died, when I was but eighteen months of age on giving birth to a fine boy. I have never known her. I have a dim recollection of much light and flowers, pretty women in gawdy silk dresses and merry gentlemen in black. My father took no notice of neither my brother nor me, but left us entirely to the care of our nurse. When I was about five years old a very pretty young lady made her entrance in our house as my governess; she however, never took much heed of us children, but consecrated her time to her toilet, her novels and my father.
Of course then I could not understand all this, but later experiences have made me see those events in a clearer light. Two years later she became my father's wife.
Contradictory to what the doctor advances, I think, that even children are in possession of great lubricity. I remember, when quite a little girl, it gave me great pleasure to help my younger brother to piddle, when we were alone in the garden. I put my fingers into the little fent of his breeches to pull out is doodle, and I was not at all annoyed, if he were so pressed that his clear, hot piss sprinkled over my fingers, the very moment I accomplished to pull it out. On the contrary, it sent a thrill through my body and gave a certain charm to the act, when I myself squatted down beside him.
When I was about ten years old my brother and I still slept in one room opening on the nursery, which was occupied by our step mother's young children. One evening, our parents being as usually in company or at the theater, the nurse left the room, before we had gone to sleep. As soon as she was out of the door, I asked my brother to come into my bed in order that we might talk together without awakening the little ones. Oh, what a thrill it gave me to feel the contact of his soft, warm skin, as he slipped down under my blankets; evidently he felt the same for as if by mutual accord we both raised our nightgowns to the throat and instead of telling fairy-tales, began to rub our naked bodies against one another. It produced such a delicious sensation, that we stripped off the nightgowns and began caressing one another in a most lascivious way. I know, that I made him suck my tongue and that I asked his in return. At length I asked him to kiss my quim, which was then of course hairless but full and fat and I took his diminutive, cream-coloured cockey, with its charming little vermilion orifice at the top into my mouth. Without dreaming of what we were at, only guided by our voluptuous nature, we found the famous attitude 69.
A few weeks later my brother was sent to school and having had no opportunity of repeating our «play», my hardly aroused passions lay again dormant for another year.
By that time a boy of about 13 or 14 years of age, the son of one of our neighbours, happened to call one afternoon, when the house was full of visitors. My stepmother wanted to get rid of him in the drawing room, where she was receiving the civilities of several young naval officers, equally fond of my father's good table and his pretty young wife; she sent him to the nursery to play with the children. My step-brothers and sisters were mere babies. Indeed, it was but one of them, a good little girl of five, that was able to play. I was of course delighted. My brother had never been allowed to return home, not even during the holidays, and for more than a year I had been deprived of the society of play-fellows of my own age.
I proposed an old favorite play of mine:
«Hot boiled beans.» A handkerchief was hidden by one of the play-mates, while the others awaited outside the play-room. It happened that the little one was rather long in hiding the famous «beans» and while waiting outside in the dark lobby-for upstairs there was no light-Henry unbuttoned the flat of his trousers and put my hand into them, telling me to caress his toy. It gave me infinite pleasure to do so. His doodle cocked by my touches and got hard as a stone. The little one called us. Henry could scarcely walk with that hard thing between his thighs. Finding the «beans», hiding it and making it be found and hidden again by the little one, was the business of a moment. When returned to the lobby his hand got into my drawers and his titillations and fondlings thrilled me through.
From that day he used to come to our house under all sorts of pretext. He was considered as a mere child, though too great to be sent away, when he chose to pay us a visit, so my stepmother always sent him to the nursery. We always played at «Hot boiled beans» and always indulged in lascivious caresses. We soon got to suck one another's private parts and on one occasion a mucous liquor emanating from his prick- probably his first spend-wetted my lips. His visits, however, became too frequent and not knowing how to get rid of him without annoying his parents, some of the richest people in the town, it was decided to send
I remained for more than four years in the convent, to which I had been sent. It happened that the good sister, who superintended the boarding-school was an excellent but old-fashioned mistress desirous to shut out all doubtful elements of her school; and at least I never had any opportunity of getting enlightened while there.
When sixteen I left the convent and went to spend the holidays with a sister of my diseased mother. She was living in a village near Rouen in rather straitened circumstances, being the wife of a plain farmer. Or course country-life undeceived me better in a few days than years in town or at the convent would have done.
One of the first days of my sojourn at Chouville I awoke very early in the morning just at day break. I got up, opened the dormant window of my room and leaning my elbow on the sill admired the charming view of a foggy summer landscape and the rising sun struggling to make its warming rays break through the grey, misty veil. A moaning just beneath my window attracted my notice. It was a poor sheep, evidently suffering very much. I had a great mind to go down-stairs or to call my aunt, when all of a sudden I saw a curious reddish bag get out of the backside of the sheep; it burst and a little bit of a lamb, all wet and brownish sprang to its legs and shook its head, as if to get rid of something. A world was unrolled before my astonished eyes. The little ones come into existence not in the cabbage but in their mother's womb.
I remembered my step mother's swelling belly about the time, when my youngest brother was born; and a pretty house made who had to leave, because of «an illness in her belly». When I saw her recovered, she had «found» a baby.
The following weeks I tried to learn something more about this mysterious relation of mother and child, but in vain. I wanted to discover too what part the father played in the relationship; but being of a rather shy nature, I
