Chapter Six
Now we are coming to some first- rate fuckeries, those in which my delicious Conquette Ingenue and my ravishing Victoire Conquette are to show their true mettle and whence they are to emerge seasoned veterans, making their fortunes and mine thereby, and losing thereunto a false delicacy and overnice scruples which always bar the road to prosperity. The regime I chose for the education of those dazzling creatures and their companions may perhaps startle the reader but, as in all other things, he would best suspend his criticism and judge only by the outcome.
Let us take up once again the thread of this charming story and turn to a few preparatory love bouts which will usher in the main ones. ' Tis the painting of sweet voluptuousness constitutes genius.
The first visit Coquette received on the day following her inhumanation and at the same hour was paid her by Timon. He found her at her pension. He recounted how her beast of a husband, finding her gone, told all the neighbors she was dead and buried. But he was inhibited from speaking freely by the presence of the master and mistress of the house. Now, in this same building, only a few steps from where I lived, I had a small room where I hid the copies of each number of my Annales, whose printing was at the time forbidden by the government. My daughter was to have her bed in this secluded place and was to sleep there that night – she would have been there already had it not been that she had recently arisen. The bed I had installed – for my own use, for my secretary' s, for his sister' s, his mistress, and mother- in- law' s – was a comfortable and generous fucking- couch beneath whose thick coverlets one could nestle very agreeably. Vitnegre had one just like it: he used to hide in it when one or another of his clients came to exercise the cunt or ass of his wife (he called her his golden- egg- laying goose). He didn' t like to miss anything of the spectacle and was, furthermore, afraid that a client might spirit her away from him. Apart from that, his lust was flattered by watching: he was mad about his wife' s feet and while she was being feelingly tongued by one of those buggers (they all adored her and were keenly to regret her loss), he would draw off one of her slippers. They were narrow and he used them the way another might employ a cunt. ' Friends,' he was wont to confide to his colleagues, ' I have never fucked anything belonging to my wife but her shoes.'
Sensing that Timon had a quantity of things to tell her, and that he was unable to talk where they presently were, Conquette pretended she had left a letter in my storeroom and that she wished to show it to him; having a key, they went down together.
I had just arrived there when I heard my daughter' s step, her muted voice, and Timon' s. I hid myself in the capacious bed. They entered. Conquette carefully closed and locked the door, covered it with the mattress padding, which prevented noise from being overheard outside, and they seated themselves near to where I lay.
' Ah, Madame,' began the sensitive youth, ' what scenes we' ve had! He discovered, I know not by what means, that I loved you – perhaps my glances betrayed me – or because one day when I was with him at your home and one of your purchasers was caressing you with his leave and his guise, he saw me shower kisses on one of your slippers. I thought I did so unnoticed. But he seemed until then to have been totally unaware that you loved me, or that you and I were ever acquainted. And then came the terrible day. He called at my lodgings. I was having coffee; it was three in the afternoon. ' I' ll never be able to depucelate my wife,' he told me, ' my prick' s too large. You' re a handsome lad. I' ve chosen you to handsell her, ' twill be this very day. I simply ask six louis for her hire. I' ll give them to her as a gift. She likes to buy herself trinkets.' I produced the money on the spot and we set out – you know the rest.
' After leaving you on that fatal night, I slept until ten in the morning. I went to my office but on the way stopped at your husband' s door. I knocked and heard two neighbors whispering together: ' It' s the confessor, so it couldn' t have been Madame they took away last night.' The wicked fellow opened the door – that atrocious monk was with him. A friar had brought the coffin, it contained something swathed in shrouds, and he recited prayers aloud beside the body, which lay in the other room. ' He' s a friend,' Vitnegre explained to the monk; then, to me: ' My poor wife has passed away.'
'' Passed away!' said I.
'' She died in the arms of this reverend father.' The expression made me shudder. The monk spoke: ' I did all in my power. We have taken all the necessary steps. She shall be buried quietly. Permission has been granted us to carry out the little ceremony. It will take place at about four.' I left. After my midday meal, towards threethirty, I called again at Vitnegre' s house. Two priests, four pallbearers, the monk and the friar carried out what I supposed was an empty coffin. There was no chanting. It was buried. We' ll see what happens next. I plan to watch developments. You are thought dead, my beloved. Will you accord me your favors? For you are free.'
' My friend,' was Conquette' s modest reply, ' let me begin by thanking you for the important services you have rendered me. But there is someone else who has rendered me yet greater ones. If not for him I should have been doomed. Were I still in possession of my favors, I should bestow them upon you, but they are now the rightful property of my first lover, who, lying in concealment, discovered the plot they were hatching. He has just deflowered me and he made love to me once again after doing so. He is your single rival, but I adore him. His name, which I am going to disclose to you, shall prove in what high esteem I hold you, for, truly, this is a confidence to be guarded faithfully: he is my papa.'
Upon hearing these words Timon fell at his mistress' s feet. ' Angelic girl, divine girl,' he said, ' I discern therein all your filial piety and beauty of your soul! Fuck your father, yes! May he be alone to encunt you. You would be worthy to be fucked by the gods, if the gods still fucked these days. I ask but one thing: to lick out your cunt, my precious, and, with your father' s noble permission, to sodomize you.'
' My most amiable friend,' Conquette said to him, stroking his hand and smiling with infinite sympathy, ' you are an eminently reasonable individual.'
Timon shed his trousers, deposited in her hands a depucelating instrument, yet more meagerly constructed than my fine prick, had her caress his little globes and requested leave to frig her. She refused, wherewith Timon lay her upon the bed, hoisted her petticoats and voraciously, but fastidiously, sucked her cunt.
No, indeed, never were such joyous sighs pronounced. ' Ah, Timon! Your tongue' s even better than a prick,' the young bard was told. She had ejaculated with the third lick of his gifted tongue, and in her delirium she raised her legs high in the air, clicking her heels, elevating her ass to favor the application of her pumper' s mouth and the introduction of the tongue with which he was exciting her clitoris.
She was the image of her mother in this heel- clicking, for I never fucked that lamented woman save in daytime. For, whether having at her cuntwardly, bumwise, or orally, I wished to be inspired by the best part of her: I am referring to her leg and foot. I used to ask her to click her heels, because that reminded me of a woman walking, and that would always give me an erection.
When my daughter had had her fill of discharging, she thrust Timon away from her swimming cunt.
The celestial Conquette Ingenue was as always her fair- minded and clear- thinking self: the reader will be not in the least surprised by the speech she uttered now. Turning over on her belly, she said, ' My next- to- best friend, lubricate me. My foremost friend depucelated my gem and justice demands that to you be offered the first use of my rosebud – Papa would surely approve my decision.'
' Oh goddess!' exclaimed Timon as he inserted pommade into her anus by means of a simple piece of apparatus, ' What a tranquil judgment you have, what unfailing wisdom! He shall have the cuntlet and I the rosy vent and each of us shall enjoy the privilege of exclusive fuckery.' Timon burst through the narrow gate despite one of two little squeals and titters from my cherished daughter, and, after some lively thumps and rattlings, he discharged. ' Fuck!' he roared in his cultured voice, ' Fuck! What as ass! Why, this is the very pleasure of Olympean Zeus!' and he slumped forward, drained of sperm and short of wind after that single stroke of lighting. It also occurred to him, to my measureless satisfaction, that he had an appointment at seven. Rolling her upon her back so as to be able to give her a farewell kiss in the form of a few stabs of the tongue aimed into her cunt, Timon left the amorous Conquette Ingenue stretched out upon the bed. He lit his candle, opened the door, and shut it behind him.
He was no sooner gone than I sprang from hiding and landed upon my adorable daughter, who had been moved by and whose cunt was oscillating vibrantly from those three nips Timon had bestowed in going. ' Why, gracious! Are you there?'
' Of course, my beloved: he embuggers, I encunt! You are at the origin of this shattering erection you see me wearing.'
