shift, it seemed like the entrance of paradise: I soon fastened my mouth on hers, and took a blissful kiss. I proceeded to put my arms round her and press her to my breast; a sudden palpitation seized me, I let go of her and stood a moment to contemplate. I then blew out the light, and taking her in my arms, gained my chamber unperceived with the beautiful burden.
Heavens! How light it seemed! When I had laid her down on the bed, I relighted the candle, and gazed on her again. I uncovered her bosom, drew up her petticoats, opened her thighs, examining and admiring her secret charms. What a spectacle! Love and the graces embellished her person. Fair, fat, and firm, everything was there to charm the eye. Tired of admiring without enjoying, I put my mouth and my hands upon the beauties I had been so earnestly gazing on; but I had scarcely touched her, when she sighed, and put her hand where she felt mine. I kissed her on the mouth, and she tried to pull away my hand, and make an entry with her finger. My ardor produced the same effect on me, and I kept my hold. She tried to break from my embrace, which I opposed, and she fell backwards; but raised herself up in a passion, and tried to scratch my face, beside biting and kicking, but nothing stopped me. I extended myself on her person, and left her hands free to do whatever her fury inspired, employing mine to part her thighs, which she so obstinately pressed together as to make me despair. Fury increased her strength, passion lessened mine; a decisive struggle was necessary, so I summoned all my energies and succeeded in opening her thighs; in a moment my tool had found its destined lodgings; I pushed in; it went, and all the rage of my devotee vanished away; she hugged me, kissed me, shut her eyes and swooned. I no longer knew what I was doing, but kept pushing away, till I spent and flooded my lady. She also discharged, and there we both lay insensible, quite absorbed in pleasure.
My companion had no sooner recovered her senses that she invited me by her caresses to replunge her in that sweet delirium from which she had just escaped. When we had drained the cup of pleasure to the very dregs, I went down into the kitchen to fetch something to repair the forces of a sick person, which I pretended was myself. When I returned to my chamber I found my devotee very low-spirited! I soon partially raised her spirits by kind attentions, and determined after our repast to learn the cause of her sadness. We supped without making any noise, for fear of a discovery, and lest my treasure should be confiscated to the profit of the fish-house, agreeably to the rules of the order.
As we were fatigued, we felt more inclined to go to bed than to sit up and talk. We immediately did so, but as soon as we found ourselves naked in bed, repose fled far from us, I put my hand to her bower, and she did me a like service; admiring the size and firmness of my tool, she exclaimed:
“Ah! I am no longer surprised that you have reconciled me to the pleasure I had resolved to hate.”
I was less eager to ask why she had come to such an extraordinary resolution, than by giving her another taste of it, to prove how foolish it was ever to have formed it. She received me into her arms with inexpressible eagerness, and we hugged each other so closely that we could hardly breathe. The bed was scarcely able to bear the impression made on it by exertions, but began to crack horribly: an exquisite intoxication succeeded our efforts, and we fell asleep without changing position.
The dawn found us still asleep in this manner; and whether our imagination had caused an efflux of the delicious fluid which announces the internal fire, or whether we had discharged mechanically, we were inundated when we. awoke. We soon renewed our amusement, and I found myself in a condition to acquit myself like a monk. I will not detail to you how many times we indulged in these exercises, but will pass on to explain the circumstances that had thrown her into my arms.
She had an air of disquietude and sorrow that quite affected me; and I entreated her to open her heart to me, and be persuaded that I would remove her grief if it could by any possibility be done.
“Shall I lose your heart, my dear Silas, if I avow that you are not the first who had made me taste the joys of love? Satisfy me against a fear which oppresses my very soul, and which, in spite of myself, gives my countenance an air of sorrow I cannot conceal. Yes, that is the only fear that disturbs me at present; my own fate occupies me not, now I have you.”
“Can you then,” said I, “distrust the charms that you offer to my eyes? Little do you know their value if you doubt their power! Yes, the ardor with which they inspire me is too strong not to feel indignant at such a fear. Ah! Little do you know me! If a ridiculous prejudice had made a difference between a girl that has been poked and one that is to be poked, I have not adopted it. Ought the beauty which has charmed others to lose its right to please us also? Had you done it with all the Earth, are you not still the same? Are you not a lovely girl, and all precious in my eyes? Have the pleasures that you conferred on others diminished the piquancy of those I have enjoyed?”
“Your words console me,” said she; “and I will now proceed to lay before you the troubles from which you have so unexpectedly and so agreeably relieved me.”
She then began her relation as follows:
Beauregard de Farniente
The Adventures of Father Silas
CHAPTER SIX
My misfortunes originate in my heart, which has an irresistible penchant for the sweets of love, and allows me to think of nothing else. An unjust and cruel mother devoted me to the cloister, and as I had no means of opposing her will, I could only show how much I dreaded the fate she had fixed for me by sighs and tears; she looked on my distress without being moved thereby, and the time was appointed for me to take the veil. As the fatal moment of sealing my death-warrant drew near, I trembled at the thought of the vow I was about to make. The horror of my prison, and the despair consequent on being deprived of my only good, threw me into an illness which would have soon terminated my sufferings, if my mother, touched at my unhappy condition, had not relented from her design. She was a boarder in the convent where she intended me to take the veil. A desire for retirement and seclusion had induced her to go there, but on reflection she thought proper to withdraw. It is not without chagrin that women can renounce pleasure or see old age approaching! It is a natural feeling that they may struggle to conceal but which they cannot entirely subdue. My mother, judging my feelings by her own, delivered me from my dungeon and reappeared in the world on the footing of a lady who had no objection to console herself for the loss of her departed lord in the arms of a fifth husband.
From my mother's disposition it was easy to see that it might be dangerous for me ever to appear as her rival, and it was very likely any lover who might present himself would prefer the younger. I imagined that the pleasures of love when snatched by stealth became more piquant, and that I could obtain my object as well in retirement as in the bustle of the world. I adopted this system, and soon was thought a devotee. I was delighted at the success of my stratagem, and set my wits to work to scheme some intrigue which I could easily carry on under cover of my assumed virtue.
A young man that I had seen at the convent suspected that I was less religious than appearances bespoke; indeed I had had a little adventure with him at the grating when he came one day to see his sister.
I here interrupted my companion, recollecting what Susan had told me of Sister Agatha, whom I compared with her, and found that they corresponded exactly. I remembered that Susan had told me Agatha had a rather long clitoris, so I proceeded to examine her as to the similarity in that respect. I laid her on her back, and when I examined her slit, I saw a rosy clitoris, somewhat long, and which seemed to be placed there for pleasure only. I no longer doubted that it was she, and embraced her in an ecstasy of delight.
“My dear Agatha,” said I “is it indeed you that heaven has sent me?”
She released herself from my arms, stared at me with surprise, and asked who had told me the name she went by in the convent.
“A young girl, the loss of whom I mourn, and who was the confident of your secrets.”
“Ah! that's Susan; then she has betrayed me.”
“It is indeed she; but no one except myself knows your secret, and I am possessed of it only through my urgent importunity.”
“What, are you Susan's brother! If so, I no more complain of her; if I did so, I should impose on myself the necessity of defending her against your censure, for she did not conceal from me what paused between you two.” We gave a tear or two to Susan's fate, and then Agatha resumed her narrative.
She has told you my adventure with Verland, and it is of him that I am going to speak. My metamorphosis
