M. Debreyne - The Ribald Monk

— Marchioness, do put yourself at ease-you must be stiflingly warm with this heavy cape of yours.

At these words, he himself took the initiative to take off her mask and her cloak, and she finally appeared as the splendidly attractive woman she was, and the slight note of confusion that could be read in her face, made her more exquisitely beautiful. Before such majestic beauty, Choisy knelt down.

— How could I ever suppose that there would be in Venice such a high-ranking guardian angel for poor little me!

— Sir, the marchioness answered, now with her natural voice, the person you pay visits to every night has a very vindictive protector.

— I know it… and Francesca — Hush!

— Pardon me, but since you know everything about me Choisy had come nearer his graceful visitor, and she felt his voluptuous mouth on the nape of her neck.

— Sir, I shall regret the boldness I had to come here and warn you-a boldness that was inspired by Choisy closed her lips with the tips of his delicate fingers, while with the other hand, he started fingering her swelling bosom.

Then he declared in a voice full of a tenderness which he knew was a very effective weapon:

— I am ready to do everything possible so that you should not feel sorry you came here to warn me.

He pulled deftly on an aglet of her bodice and there sprung out one of her breasts. Its wonderfully smooth skin felt warm and scented under his face and he kissed it avidly. She tried to wriggle away from his grasp, but now her passion was aroused and her struggle was not really sincere-it was a parody of defense.

There was a bed, placed strategically nearby, and she opposed no resistance when Choisy drew her towards it. Her bosom was heaving with passion. Feverishly, but with an expert touch, Choisy undid her bodice, and managed to continue kissing her throat the while. And at each of his kisses, she gave a little quiver of delight. Her eyes were closed and her lips open and wet-he covered them with his own, and, oh, how that woman could kiss! Her lips were full, yet not thick, her teeth were regular, and — Choisy thought-her salivation while kissing was just right, not too excessive, like that of some women he had known. With the marchioness, it was really a perfect kiss, and he felt his heart melt and his penis grow and grow-he freed it and there it stood in all its splendour, tilted up with desire.

It was just a question of time now. At the stage where she had arrived, she would have to go the whole hog.

She lay on her back on the bed and shut her eyes in ecstasy. He got up and pulled her skirt down and she opposed no resistance. To take off her chemise, she would have had to get up, and that may have aroused her from the state of bliss she was in, so Choisy decided to disturb her as little as possible, so he lay down on top of her and kissed her again full on the lips which had now become warm-a sure sign that a woman was ready for love. So now he did not hesitate and, lifting up her chemise just enough for the passage of his prick, he drove it home, and, far from opposing him, she had drawn her thighs apart in eager anticipation of the inevitable.

Her cunt was as soft and juicy as her mouth, and with as much perfection: not too soft but with a certain firmness of flesh, and how thrillingly she could use her inner muscles to constrict her vagina and squeeze his penis like a dagger in a well-greased sheath.

As he moved in and out, she helped his movements, keeping in perfect time with him, and, at each of her upward thrusts, he felt the thrill of her warm belly against his.

Her musky perfume, which was blending marvellously with the warmth of her flesh and the perspiration of her body, made him sniff deliciously as he kissed her on the breasts, on her throat and on her warm pungent armpits.

After they had both come together, he paused just a little, kissing her the while, but he would not let her go yet-he wanted to give her a sample of what a Frenchman was capable of. Not that he was urged only by a feeling of pride for his country's reputation as wonderful lovers-he felt a genuine desire to make love with this woman as much as was possible now, for perhaps it was a unique opportunity. He realized she was a woman of high rank, who would perhaps later feel ashamed to have given way to a man in his own home, and she might never come back to him.

These thoughts crossed his mind in the space of a second, and then he did not think any more, and plunged himself body and soul in his passion.

He kissed her again on the lips, then, gently and tenderly, on her eyelids. Then, suddenly, he crept down arid, under her thin chemise, groped in the dark with his tongue for the sensitive point.

Soon, he found the protruding button of her clitoris under his tongue, and he started working on it, and, from time to time, he licked up the warm juice that was oozing from the opening just underneath.

She had grasped his hands and guided them towards her breasts-she was a very voluptuous woman and she had at last found a lover worthy of her, and was determined to get the best out of him. He obediently did what she prompted him to do, that is to pinch her teats while he was sucking her off.

Soon she was moaning with delight and she thrust her twat against his body so hard that he had difficulty in breathing. He felt a bit as if he was her prey, or her slave, and he thought that he felt the same with every experienced and passionate woman, but he did not mind it at all and he gave her all she wanted with the eagerness to please the opposite sex that had made his reputation of one of the best lovers of his time, one that no woman was ever likely to forget once she had known him.

Under the busy working of his tongue, the marchioness had come two or three times. Then, Choisy, who had felt his virility coming back and raring to go, timed it perfectly and pushed his rod into the warm juicy scabbard. The sensation was exquisite and they both grunted with infinite pleasure together. A few thrusts, and they both came, and he thought he had never felt so much pleasure, although perhaps, to be honest, he had often had the same thought before. But he was at least sincere in admitting that he could not possibly ever feel more pleasure for if he did he could not bear it and would swoon with the shock of too much happiness.

For a long time, the marchioness lay there, with her eyes shut, breathing hard, basking in the wonderful happiness of her contented senses, with all fibres of her body still aquiver but beginning to calm down into a delicious feeling of contentedness.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that Choisy had already readjusted his clothing and was appearing decent before her. She beheld her own disarrayed clothes and felt a sense of shame. Like the gentleman he was, Choisy turned round while she put on her skirt and fastened on her bodice.

He could now contemplate her, and how changed she was! Before, she was pale and dignified. Now, she was only a woman in the full sense of the term. She radiated happiness and contentment from every pore of her body shining with warmth, and her eyes were looking at him lovingly and gratefully.

— What are you going to think of Venetian women? she asked with belated modesty.

— I have always thought well of them, and now more than ever.

— And they are discussing about your sex, wondering which it is! exclaimed the marchioness, in an amused tone, mixed with sensual gratitude.

— Now you know, my dear marchioness, but please don't shout it on the roof-tops!

— What interest would I have to do such a silly thing?

— Indeed, it would compromise you. Better keep mum and let them all continue to wonder about my case.

— That might induce other women to do as I did and satisfy their curiosity, she said with a note of fear and jealousy in her voice.