Beauregard de Farniente - The Adventures of Father Silas

“Susan,” at last I began, enraged at the obstacle that her stupid attention to other people's matters opposed to my happiness; “come away; we will have as much pleasure as they.”

She looked at me, and I saw by her eyes how much she was excited. I took her in my arms, carried her to the bed, and laid her on her back. When she opened her thighs, my eyes were instantly arrested by the sight of a bright little rose, just beginning to bloom. Light colored hair, in a thousand little curls, was just beginning to overshade a hillock which the most delicate pencil could but feebly portray. Susan lay without stirring, and awaited impatiently for some more sensible and satisfactory tokens of my passion. I endeavored to give them, but made a sad mess of it, sometimes too high, sometimes too low, wasting my strength in vain efforts. At last she guided me and well did I know that I was in the right road then. A sharp pain, which I had no thought of finding on a road that I expected to find strewn with flowers, for a moment arrested my progress. Susan experienced a similar inconvenience, but we were not to be deterred by trifles. She tried to enlarge the passage; I pushed, and she seconded every motion. I soon reached the halfway house. Susan looked at me with languishing eyes; her face was inflamed, she breathed at long intervals, and imparted to me a prodigious heat. I swam in an ocean of pleasure, and hoping for still greater, hastened to snatch them. O Heaven! That such blissful moments were to be troubled by the most cruel misfortunes! I was pushing most vigorously, when my infernal bed gave way, and fell, making a horrible clatter. This fall might have been favorable, since it helped me to reach the end of my journey, though with grievous pain to both of us. Susan had the utmost difficulty to refrain from screaming. Dreadfully frightened, she would have torn herself from my arms, but I was mad with love and rage, and held her tighter than ever. I paid most dearly for my obstinacy.

The noise alarmed Annette, who opened the door, saw how her son and daughter were engaged, and stood staring at us, almost petrified with surprise, and was unable to approach us. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died away on her lips. Susan had fainted; her tender eyes were shut and she had neither the courage nor strength to rise. I looked at Annette and Susan by turns; at the former with fury; at the latter with grief. Emboldened by the statue-like immobility of Annette, I wished to profit by it; I pushed, and Susan gave signs of life, she heaved a deep drawn sigh, opened her eyes, and pressed me more closely as she returned my motion. She began to spend, and her raptures delighted me. I was just on the point of partaking them, when Annette rushed upon me and tore me from the arms of my dear Susan. I was too exhausted to offer any resistance, and remained almost insensible in her grasp.

In the meantime Father Polycarp, no less curious than Annette, had entered, and was not much less astonished than she, at what he saw before him; for there lay Susan on her back, stark naked, rubbing her eyes with one hand, and covering the sinning part with the other; as if that could conceal her charms from the eyes of the lecherous monk.

Neither my surprise, rage, nor fear had made love's weapon lose its stiffness; Annette gazed on it; and the sight procured me her forgiveness. I felt that she was gently withdrawing me from the chamber. I scarcely knew what I did but I followed her. She conducted me to her chamber, shut the door, and bolted it. Fear then awoke me from my trance, and I wished to fly from her resentment; but she reassured me.

“Silas,” said she, “I don't mean to hurt you.” I did not believe her and still kept distance. She approached me, and when I saw her arm extended to seize me, I drew back, but in vain, for she caught me by the staff.

The confusion at being in statu natural did not hinder me from being surprised at seeing her quite naked; a moment before she was at least decently dressed. My tool soon regained in her hand the strength and stiffness it had partially lost. Annette pressed it, and I looked at her slit. She then lay down on the bed, and pulled me on her.

“Come along, my little stallion, put it in there, bravo.”

I did not wait for anything further, but, meeting with little opposition, I thrust it in up to the hilt. Having been predisposed by the prelude with Susan, I soon felt a glow of delight, which deprived me of my senses, and Annette received the first-fruits of my virility. Thus at the first stroke, I made a cuckold of my imputed father, but what odds!

I was going to repeat the delightful exercise, but was interrupted by a stifled noise proceeding from my chamber. Annette seemed perfectly aware of what was going on, and called to the Father to leave off. She hastily dressed herself and hastened to prevent things being pushed too far.

She had no sooner turned her back than I flew to the hole. I there saw the monk holding Susan in his arms, who had partially dressed herself, but he had lifted up her petticoat and shift, and I guessed that the noise was caused by the excessive dimensions of his Reverence's member, as he made many useless attempts to put it into a place that was never meant for him. The appearance of Annette put an end to the struggle; she snatched Susan from the monk's embraces, gave her two or three slaps on the back and sent her out of the room. It appeared that those vigorous proceedings had somewhat exhausted the good dame, and that she had not strength enough left to show Father Polycarp how much she disapproved of his conduct. It is not often that a monk is wanting in impudence; but, in this instance, the Father could hardly bear up against the shame of being caught in flagrante delicto and the reproaches that he expected Annette was preparing to shower upon him; or more probably against the disgrace a monk must incur by failing in an amorous encounter with a young girl. His color came and went without his daring to look at Annette, who, for her part, seemed agitated by similar emotions. I watched them attentively from my peep-hole, and feared that I was about to witness some fearful crisis; but I was altogether mistaken. The monk was confused, but his instrument stood forth like a poker. I suppose monks are always so. Annette was in a terrible rage, but when she saw the monk's staff her anger abated; and a reconciliation took place. He approached her, and as he put his tool into her hand I heard him say:

“Well, if I cannot have the daughter, I will the mother.”

Annette had quite forgiven his faithless behavior, and sealed his pardon on the wreck of my unlucky bed.

“Very good,” said the monk as soon as he had recovered his breath, “do you think I do it as well as Silas?”

“What do you mean by that?” said she. “Do you think I have done anything with him?

“The little rascal has hid himself under my bed, and there let him be till Ambrose comes home: I warrant him, he shall have his hide well tanned.”

“Come, come, Annette,” said the monk, “let us have no disagreement; you know very well he cannot always stay here, and he is big enough now, isn't he? I shall take him with me when I go.”

“I think you had better,” replied Annette; “for if the little scamp remains here, you and I can do nothing; I fear he has discovered us already. Most positively he has,” continued she, as she cast her eye on the hole in the partition; “good heavens! I never saw that before; no doubt the young dog has been watching us.”

I was afraid she would come to examine me on that subject, so I retreated as far as possible under the bed, and remained there, though I was very curious to hear the conclusion of a dialogue which so closely concerned me. I was not long in suspense, for I soon felt some one pulling me from my hiding place, and was fearful of its being Ambrose. If he had seen me there, I should have found myself in a rather awkward position.