orifice, and imitating Bertha's movements, as I stretched myself as widely apart as possible, and working my bottom up and down, I imagined I was taking in the coveted instrument.
A lively sense of pain did not stop me; I redoubled my efforts and got in nearly half of my finger.
Then I repeated Bertha's words: 'I'm coming… I come… my arse!' till the spasm seized me, and I twisted my body about in an agony of pleasure.
My hand and the chair bore marks of my enjoyment; I hastily effaced all, and returned to the house.
In the course of the day Monsieur B. had an interview with grandmother, and formally asked for my aunt's hand. All was arranged, and he left for Paris to press on with the preliminaries. It was decided that Bertha should remain with us for a few days. I was to assist at her marriage as bridesmaid, so she took me away with her.
The ceremony was celebrated with pomp, and, for the first time in my life, I figured at a grand ball, where I may say without vanity that I met with true success. I should have liked to have been present when bride and bride148 groom were put to bed, but my observatory was far away, and I had to put up with solitary association in their pleasures.
Three days afterwards Monsieur B. took me back to my grandmother's, and went off to Italy with his wife.
PART II
Behold me once more back on the monotony and dullness of my early life, with my senses now quickened, and the knowledge of pleasures, that my temperament required perhaps much more than many women. I dreamed of nothing but marriage, and Monsieur B. was my beau ideal of a husband.
I often made a visit to the pavilion in the park, as it contained ineffaceable recollections, and I had left there the chair, which often became the throne of solitary pleasure.
This means of relief was not only necessary, but I may say indispensable, as true raging fits of love would sometimes come over me, my eyes grew dim, there was a ringing in my ears, my legs tottered beneath me, and simply by pressing my thighs together I could feel that charming part that makes us true women get wet and palpitating.
In those moments, no resistance was possible, I was obliged to give way! My finger was my master; when I spent fully once, I experienced a wholesome calm, and a delicious languor overwhelmed me. I am convinced that without this practice I should have fallen dangerously ill; happily I did not do it too often, and it was really salutary for me.
Thus I attained my eighteenth year. I was truly beautiful, and I will here trace my portrait, without any shift, and it shall be an exact resemblance, without false shame or ridiculous self-praise. My stature was a little above medium height; my hair was abundant, and of a fine, dark-chestnut colour. My eyes, with long lashes, were hazel, brilliant, and swimming with voluptuous moisture. My mouth, rather large and very sensual, was furnished with fine teeth; a black mole, on the right side of my upper lip, gave piquancy to my physiognomy. I had an admirable bust, the breasts apart, firm and well placed; my figure was neat and supple with voluminous buttocks that were perfectly handsome; and the mount of Venus, very much pronounced, protected a nook that it appears was a rare and pure pattern, both in form and exceptional voluptuous quality. Without possessing the rare bush of my aunt, I was well provided in that way, and by a singular peculiarity the pretty fur continued much lower down, by a silky growth of short moss, that shadowed with its dark line the furrow separating the neighbouring twin globes.
How often, dear F., have you not placed me so as to enjoy that view! What caresses!.. How many kisses? But let me not anticipate.
Let me add, to finish the picture, that my hands were handsome though rather large, and my feet were small and arched.
With the feelings that devoured my being, was I not a morsel for a king?
My grandmother felt her end approaching, and fearing for my future tried to get me a husband without letting me know; an old friend of hers made her a proposition one day that seemed to suit her hopes and my dearest wishes.
M. de C. was introduced to us. He was twenty-eight years old, of medium stature, very genteel in manner, with a graceful bearing and regular features. His family was a good one, and his fortune satisfactory. He did not present such a manly appearance as Monsieur B., but as he was he pleased me, and I secretly gave him my heart from the first moment. As for him, he was dazzled by my beauty, and his mind was made up directly he saw me, so that we were all agreed, and the marriage being decided, we were united two months afterwards. We resolved to pass a short time with granny, and then depart for Z — , where my husband occupied a post as….. Bertha came to assist at my wedding with her husband, she was as pretty as ever, and quite as happy. I told her my little secrets, and how I felt inclined to love my husband with all my heart and soul. A single thing vexed me, and that was that I found him rather cold and reserved, although always affectionate and gallant. Bertha burst out laughing, and assured me that all would soon change.
The important day arrived; she acted as my mother, and dressed me herself. I felt the day get shorter and shorter with unspeakable desire and fear. The act that I was about to accomplish, although well-known to me in theory, filled me with terrible apprehension.
The evening came to an end at last, and Bertha led me to the nuptial chamber. It was her room, and on the bed where I had seen her so bountifully treated I was to be made a woman.
Bertha put me to bed, and sat by my side to instruct me with what in her idea I was profoundly ignorant of. She went through her lesson with tact, but left nothing unexplained, kissed me, recommended obedience, and went away.
A minute afterwards M. de C. came in, clothed only in a dressing-gown. He drew near to me, kissed me heartily, said some very affectionate things, took off his garment, and got into bed.
Charles, for that was his name, pressed me in his arms; the contact of his naked flesh against mine made me jump! He kissed me softly, telling me to fear not, and drew still closer.
I trembled all over, I dare not speak, and yet I desired to. He whispered: 'Would you like to have a little baby?' and at the same time his right knee insinuated itself between my thighs, so as to separate them. I resisted at first, then little by little I gave way, and soon Charles was on top of me, and I felt the point of the much-coveted object.
This first contact acted upon me like a spark upon gunpowder. All the warmth of my being was concentrated in the besieged nook — I almost spent! Charles was awkward, he was either too high or too low. I dare not move, I could not help him! I was panting, and on fire! At last I felt him in the right place — he pushed on vigorously; I felt a sharp pain, started violently, and drew back, on the point of shrieking.
Charles, bewildered, asked my pardon, supplicated me to have a little courage, and took up his post once more. I remained still, and was even artful enough to creep into a better position, decided to suffer everything. He pushed again, and the pain came back, I resisted it, and shoved my body up to meet the blows, so as to finish quicker. It seemed to me that Charles did not act very vigorously, and that there was a great difference in size between the instrument that perforated me and that of Monsieur B., and, moreover, he did not speak, he did not utter one of the words I had heard, which I believed were part and parcel of the operation.
Charles, at last, seemed to gather a little strength, he gave a solid stroke of the loins, I did the same, stiffening my body; the pain was so great that I cried out, but I had the satisfaction to feel myself penetrated, for the whole instrument was sheathed within me! My husband continued his backward and forward movement a moment, then shivered, sighed several times, and stopped short. I felt a hot liquid inundate me and diminish the smarting to a slight degree.
Charles got off and laid down by my side, visibly fatigued.
In spite of my desires and my imagination, I had felt no pleasure. That did not astonish me, as I had been taught so by Bertha. Charles kissed me, and wishing me good night turned his back, and fell asleep.
I was very much surprised and quite embarrassed. I fully expected we should begin again, and in spite of the pain was quite ready to do so. At last I resigned myself to the inevitable, and slumbered too.
I awoke the next morning very late — I was alone. On hearing the sudden movement I made in sitting up Charles came out of the neighbouring room and approached me. He was completely dressed already, and he kissed
