Anonymous: Pleasures and follies

When my sister- in- law married and ceased to be at our disposal, my wife seduced her hairdresser, whom she heartily urged to submit to an anal penetration, alleging, as argument, that I was habituated to navigating the narrower strait. But this girl, having discussed the problem with me during the day, got her cunt plumbed that night without Conquette noticing into which aperture I inserted my device. In this way I had six all very pretty hairdressers in the course of twelve years; my wife paid them, thinking by this means to conceal from me the fact she had the pox. And ' twas thus I enjoyed a feast of those delightful cuntlets for which Nature had given me such a powerful appetite.

It was after the sixth hairdresser that Conquette, gravely ill, noticing that one of my schoolfellows was paying court to Mademoiselle Beauconin, my niece- daughter. She noticed that obstacles to his success were being created, and that my niece- daughter loved him, so she suggested to Mariette that she allow her lover to have his way with her, but fearing lest the lad be unable to depucelate her, she told me that the last of the hairdressers was sending one of her pupils who stood in dire need of a good encunting. But, she added, I was not to say a word while doing the task, reminding me that my niece was sleeping in the adjoining chamber. She gave me further instructions to which I hardly listened, as I was eager to be off. A hairdresser' s pupil? Provided I fucked a fresh young cunt, I cared damned little to whom it belonged. Naked, I approached the bed and stepped in. I found newly burgeoning breasts at hand, and a cunt which lay quivering.

I entered, I demolished the maidenhead. I had repeated the exercise three times when I was summoned from the bed. At first I fancied this to be some convention of which hitherto I had been in ignorance, but having listened more closely, I was most surprised to hear the spur being applied to my mount and my wife, while proffering encouragements, giving directions to her niece and my comrade. I went back to my own bed, pondering these curious events. The following day, I asked Conquette for an explanation.

" Why," she said, "' tis all very simple. You handselled your niece before your schoolmate stuffed her, for I doubted whether all alone he would be able to manage the deflowering." I was enchanted. I had made mine the first fruits of the daughter emplanted one remote holiday in Marie Linguet' s cunt, but I dissimulated my joy: this augured well for the pleasures I had for ages held hopes of enjoying and whose hour of realization was arriving. I was nearing my objective.

The reader will recall that I spoke of two daughters: I said they were mine, or at least that they were my clandestine wife' s, for she used to declare that her veritable daughters had died while being suckled and that… and that… she would speak of the king… mention some princess… but she always lied a blue streak; one simply dared not believe a word she said.

Conquette Ingenue, my elder daughter, had no sooner reached her first youth than she stared to incite desires in me. While her mother, whose syphilis was not yet apparent, was off sleeping and fucking with some gallant or other, she would send little Conquette to keep me company in bed She had the world' s prettiest crack. I made a regular practice of kissing it every night, after having spread her thighs. She would fall into a light sleep and I would insert my tongue, but would refrain from licking; then I too would go quietly to sleep, having eased her onto her side, her buttocks against my thighs and my prick squeezed between her legs.

During the daytime I encunted either the mistress of a certain barrister, Monsieur Riviere, or a pretty hunchback, who always wore delightful shoes and who lived in the same building, or a woman who limped in both legs but who had a delicious face and was about to marry. She had let her intended deflower her and since that initiation had given her pretty blond cunt an absolute minimum of rest. When not at work on one or the other of these three projects, I would poke my prick between Conquette Ingenue' s tightly squeezed thighs and she, feeling that uncomfortable presence, would seize it, sound asleep as she was, and cause me a spectacular discharge. She had caught the drift of things and started to chatter about them: we sent her away to learn a trade. She learned to draw. At the end of a two year absence she returned to the house, where I had been left alone since my wife' s death. Conquette Ingenue slept in a small room adjacent to mine. She was a tall, handsomely formed girl with perfect feet. I had the cleverest artisan in the quarter make her shoes modeled after her mother' s last which were also that of the Marquise de Marigny. Then I fell head over heels in love with the creature. But never was anyone more chastely virtuous than that heavenly girl, although her mothers, real or supposed, had been a pair of sluts and had both succumbed to the pox. Conquette Ingenue would not tolerate insolent behavior and there was no possible way of taking liberties with her. Fate doubtless willed it that her austerity would only make her the more voluptuous and the more desirable.

And so I found myself reduced to virtual beggardom: there was nothing for it, and I continued to tongue her during her sleep which, happily, was invariably profound. Directly she began to slumber I would fly to my post, lift her nightgown, gaze worshipfully at her delicious cunt, which a faint growth of down was beginning to cover, and ply my mouth with caution. Not before the tenth night after her return home did I sense her respond to these attentions; I redoubled my tongue' s activity and was rewarded by an emission. The light was out when Ingenue awoke, sighing and moaning happily.

" Ah," she murmured, " ah… that tickles so nicely." She imagined she had been dreaming. However, she nudged her young sister (who slept in the same bed beside her) with her elbow, as though she had thought the child had been responsible for what she had felt. I regained my bed, enchanted by the fact my daughter had discharged. Her emission encouraged me to hope that her spirits were now set in commotion and now aware of her own temperament, she would soon be susceptible of encuntment, become my mistress, and make me the happiest of mortals.

But how far astray my calculations led me! And what a great number of pricks were to attempt to martyrize that glorious cunt. Alas, it was to be the cause of myriad disappointments.

Nevertheless, such were my wholehearted, my unswerving, my voluptuous inclinations for that adorable girl, whose only rival for my affections was her sister. No, I can say it with all the conviction of a man who has had the experience. No, there is no pleasure to be compared with that of plunging one' s straining prick into the last depths of the satin- smooth cunt of one' s beloved daughter, above all if, courageously stirring her ass to and fro, she discharges copiously. Happy, oh, thrice happy he who steals the prize from any future son- in- law detested by both concerned…

Conquette Ingenue' s menstrual period came a week after the historic night of her first discharge. Thus, she was perfectly nubile, but while in a waking state I could not obtain any essential favor from her. My sister Marie, who was thoroughly acquainted with my character, placed her as an apprentice in a women' s dress and jewelry shop run by an attractive person whose husband had a functionary' s post. Offering herself in the place of my spectacular daughter, although unable to console me for her loss, Madame Comprenant, the dressmaker, undertook to distract me. I also went back to stuffing my niece Beauconin, then married to her cousin. But would this double activity be able to prevent me from insulting the virtue of the eternally provocative Ingenue? Hopelessly in love with her and not daring in daylight to have at her darling downy cuntlet and deprived of access to her during the night, I had to be content with gazing at her from the street. There she would be – the window was so disposed that I was permitted the view of an exquisitely shod foot, part of a lovely leg. If I bent down, when she made certain movements, I could see her thighs and her cunt, or at least picture them in my imagination, which always beheld her unclothed. A mere glimpse of her would put my prick in the air. I would enter the house and at the crucial moment invariably find either Ingenue' s mistress or the pretty Mademoiselle Beauconin. Just before threading the needle of the one or the other, I would half open the door so as, while fucking either her mistress or her cousin, I would be able to see the delicate foot or the voluptuous leg of that divine creature, who was exclusively responsible for my erection.