Gustav Schlling - Memoirs of a Baron

Even though the performances I had just witnessed had brought my blood to a boil, it seemed as if I had lost all desire for my charming neighbor. I did not like the idea that she gave herself to two partners simultaneously. Nevertheless, she had not lost one whit of her charm and vivacity; on the contrary, she ribbed the two gentlemen about their waning virility.

Now their pride had been hurt, and both were ready to do it again. Amidst merry laughter they took a pair of dice and rolled them. And then one of them sat down on his hands and knees. Now the woman laid herself down upon his back in such a way that her behind rested on his shoulders. It was a strange sight to see his wig flush with her prominent rosebush. Her love temple was wide open. The other one set himself in position over the lady who embraced him with one arm. The other arm reached below and she took hold of the first man's staff. I had never seen a more ridiculous sight, and this, combined with the panting and groaning and constant line of conversation was so silly that I could not help but burst out laughing.

The gentlemen were ready and the lady berated them because they had not managed to satisfy her.

“If I really want to be satisfied,” I heard her say, “I will have to call on my pompous German next door. Upon my honor, he will put the two of you to shame.”

This awkward compliment saddened me deeply. You will have to punish her, even though it may be a strain on you, I said to myself.

The gentlemen left. I saw her clean and flush herself, and I waited till she had thrown the negligee around her shoulders. I opened the connecting door and walked into her room.

I took my clothes off and grabbed her roughly. She pretended to be in a bad mood and asked me to return that night. But that did not fit into my plans. I did not want to give her a chance to recuperate, and therefore I threw her down upon the sofa, rammed myself into her and despite all her pleading and imploring, I moved as forcefully and as deeply as I could.

She wanted to tear herself away, but I held her firmly in my grip.

“Monsieur, you are a barbarian!”

“Madame, remember, this is your pompous German!”

She remained silent, and I treated her as roughly as I could; she dared not complain about pain, though I knew she was suffering. She clenched her teeth and big tears welled up in her eyes. And when finally my passion started to overflow, I retreated out of her grotto and deposited it on her stomach because I did not want to soothe her with my balm.

She was totally exhausted when I left her on the sofa. I expressed the hope that from now on she would be more careful with her expressions. I left.

The only town in the world where sacrifices to the god of love are brought in any form imaginable is Paris. That is a well-known fact, and it is just as well-known that nowhere else in the world has the art of love reached a perfection as well-developed as here.

Everyone makes love. Women and girls from highest rank to the lowest classes think the slightest objection ridiculous when the object is to give satisfaction to their lovers. And it is only too well-known to what aberrations they will go here; it is not necessary to mention all these things and I can therefore stick to my own personal experiences. And I do have a few things to tell you. I had access to various high-ranking homes through letters of introduction, and my humble person was first fully appreciated by the Marquise B.

I had been very attentive to her and now I could only hope. But I had not expected that the fulfillment of my wishes would be approaching as quickly as it did. One morning, around eleven, I received a message from the Marquise, announcing that she would not be at home for anyone except me, if I were inclined to honor her with a visit.

I put on a costume of the latest fashion, one which a Parisian tailor had fashioned for me while talking and lecturing like a university professor, assuring me that no one, but no one, would ever be able to discern that I was not a born Frenchman. Now I hurried swiftly to the home of my Marquise.

I could enter unannounced, I was told by her servant, and before I knew it I was in her room and about to recite a well-turned compliment when I noticed that my adored one was lying on the couch, apparently asleep.

Aha, I thought, I can start right now, freely and without any shame.

Her position was one of the most voluptuous, and her gown was so sheer that I could easily see every muscle of her beautiful body. She was of an average size, neither too heavy nor too skinny and of a very regular build. Her breasts were, as with all French women, round and full and possibly a little bit larger than normal.

I stood there for a moment, deliberating how I should approach the situation. Without too much ado is the most important thing. I put my right arm under the hollow of her back, pressed my lips softly against her half-open mouth and my tongue started probing for hers.

She pretended to be sound asleep and dreaming, and when my kisses became more ardent and insistent she feigned to awaken with a start.

“My dear sir, who gave you permission for such liberties?”

“Time, place, opportunity, beauty and irresistible charm, oh most beautiful of all ladies; I will submit to any punishment you may desire. Only, I beg of you, do not desire my banishment.”

She smiled, and I kissed her.

“Who would expect so much audacity from a German? Usually your people are so undetermined.”

“Now, beautiful Marquise, down to business; will I be so fortunate to have gained your love?”

“The way in which you acted I would have never guessed that this question could enter your mind. You betray the German in you, which would have never been known through your actions. If a lady lets it be known that she is home only for you, then…”

I did not let her finish the sentence, but threw myself in her arms and smothered her with kisses. Soon my hand was in Venus' sanctuary which seemed to be extremely sensitive. I became very hot and jumped up to take off my clothes. I also undressed my fair Marquise. She gazed upon my prick with visible pleasure and anticipation, played and toyed with it, assuring me that it had an honest face and upright demeanor.

We were soon in a passionate embrace and my staff was firmly embedded in a very voluptuous and warm grip.

“Oh, how you glow! Be sure not to end our pleasures too quickly.”

“The fault would lie entirely with your enchanting charms, though I am equally sure that those same charms would make it possible to quickly excite new passions and resume our pleasure.”

And really, I noticed that the voluptuous warmth of her grotto caused me to reach my moment of decision much quicker than usual. It did not take long ere my love received a copious flow of my life's nectar.

The moment she felt it, she clamped herself against me, nibbled my lips and rolled her eyes in voluptuous delight. It had been quite a long time since I had experienced such a delicious and ecstatic swoon. Was it the incredible charm of my Marquise, or was it the manner in which her voluptuous passion pit held me in its grip? I truly do not know.

The limpness of my rod was barely noticeable; it stayed in its position of readiness and refused to slip out of its comfortable pleasure nest. The Marquise showed surprise about this, and her soft and tingling caresses fanned my flames of passion anew.

“Oh, my dearest Baron, I had never thought that joys like this would be possible.”

Kissing her tenderly, I started a slow and deliberate motion. But as soon as she noticed that my prick was more than ready and able, she took a firm hold on my buttocks and started to slide up and down, back and forth, with incredible smoothness.