Anonymous - Pleasures and follies

She was so engrossed in her subject that I do believe she fancied it was Timon who was cheering her up. As I rubbed away, I told her I had located a pension for her and that she could go there directly she left Vitnegre. She reddened with pleasure and threw her arms about me. I darted my tongue into her mouth, then felt hers enter mine. Furiously happy, I was on the point of asking her to tell me in what manner she had been depucelated when, Vitnegre' s step sounding outside the door, I dashed into the same room Culant had used, thinking I would be able to get away through the door to the hallway. What was my surprise to see a monk enter by that same door. I retreated and hid behind a large sofa; he failed to notice me.

Vitnegre entered by the door leading from the room I had just left. " Salutations, my most reverend father. Will you fuck her before dinner, or after?" The monk, appearing to meditate over his reply and squinting through a glass panel which afforded him a view of Conquette, licked his lips.

" No, my son," he finally said, " no, ' twill be as we priorly agreed: go into the room, increase the light therein so that I shall have excellent opportunity to see all that comes to pass. Then amuse yourself with her: teats, asshole, cunt. I shall reserve my best for the night."

" Nonsense," said the generous husband with a large gesture, " I' m quite willing to throw this one into the bargain." But the man of God remained adamant. " No, I say, I like only bedtime fucking as you know: to suck tongue and bub, to encunt, to embugger, to be suckled, to sink good tooth into a pretty tit, to nip its extremities. Proceed, dear boy. Go into the other room with your prick aloft, warm her up, and, I beseech you, brutalize her just a little."

Vitnegre, his loins bare, returned to his wife, who, as always, trembled at his approach. " Mark you, buggress, the condition my prick is in? It' s because of that neat little foot I see before me. The other day I overheard some poor sod behind you say he' d like to get his tool in you – get that kerchief away from your chest, I' ve got to see your dugs – pretty things they are, by God, white, firm. Ah, my little slut, I' d tear off these pink buttons if I weren' t afraid of damaging the merchandise. What a fuckable shape to those buttocks! Up with your petticoats, whore, up with them, above your waist, above the navel, let me see that mechanism. Very nice… now walk, presenting your cunt… now turn around and let' s have a look at your ass… excellent, capital… a very graceful movement you' ve got, bitch. Wiggle your ass, do you hear me? And wiggle your cunt too, agitate it, by God, and keep it up till I tell you to stop." She toured at least a hundred times around the room, alternately exhibiting her ass and her cunt.

His eyes fixed upon the spectacle, I heard the monk say: " That bugger' s prick isn' t as stout as mine. He wasn' t able to depucelate her. Ah, dear Jesus, how she' ll screech tonight! But I mustn' t have that. Screech? Then there' ll be scandal, the neighbors will come running," reasoned the ecclesiastic. " They' ll think someone is killing her and who knows? Maybe I shall. Shall I? Ha! Why not? What? But I' d best go now," and the old fellow did go, murmuring as he left on tiptoe: " She' s someone it' d be a delight to kill, that' s clear, and killed she' ll be."

At the same instant, Vitnegre gave Conquette the signal to stop parading: " Whoa there, bitch! Stand still a minute." He entered the room. " What do you think of her?" he demanded. " Like to have a go at her now?"

My prick was as hard as a rock. Attempting to simulate the monk' s voice, I said in a hoarse whisper that yes, I might try her after all.

Vitnegre went to fetch his wife and, driving her brutally ahead of him, said, " Get along with you, bitch, whore, or I' ll fuck your ass! Ah, but you' re going to howl like a cat, but see to it, you bloodycunted slut, see to it you don' t wake the neighbors. For if you do I' ll bring every blessed one of them in here. That wouldn' t bother me one damned bit. I' d keep your cunt corked even though all of Paris were here to watch me operating." With these words he pitched her head over heels onto the couch which had been placed in the room, then disappeared.

I leapt atop my daughter, who, feeling herself being almost painlessly probed, refrained from raising a fuss. " Scream!" I said to her in a low voice. And scream she did, she screamed to wake the dead upon discovering she had some stranger' s member in her trick. As soon as I had discharged, and discharged deliciously, by having her oscillate her cunt, I made my escape just before the neighbors put in their appearance, and, as she kept up the disturbance, I sent them in to rescue her. She was found standing on her feet.

"' Tis only my wife," said Vitnegre with an apologetic smile; " we were making love, a mere nothing, don' t you know. Look at the silly creature, she' s still soaking wet with pleasure, but she' s got the temperament of a wildcat. She bites and howls whenever you show her any kindness at all." Agreeing that Vitnegre was a very witty fellow indeed, the neighbors all laughed and withdrew.

Vitnegre dined and comported himself with a degree of politeness. He wondered whether his wife had identified her fucker as a monk and feared that she might chatter about what had happened. I took supper in a cabaret opposite Vitnegre' s house. When I had finished my meal and he had left the house, I returned to my daughter who related everything that had passed. I said not a word.

I induced her to describe the circumstances of her depucelation – for she believed herself a maid no more – because I had a strong taste for such narratives and hoped hers would sufficiently restore my vigor to enable me to fuck her once again. She launched into the story as soon as I had put her in the right mood by speaking of her lover.

" Our first night and the three succeeding ones each netted Vitnegre five hundred louis, or so I subsequently learned from him. Directly we reached the house in which we were to dwell together, he lit four candles and disposed them around the bed. He had me lie down with my skirts raised above my waist. He turned me this way and that way, examining and kissing me everywhere. He had me lift my legs in the air and then stand up on the bed. ' Wiggle your ass,' said he, ' no, this way, the way I' m doing it' – he showed me how – ' as if I were busy fucking you.' I pointed out to him that this was indecent. ' Indecent! Bah! A wife is her husband' s whore,' he observed philosophically and fell to sucking my cunt and then bawled at the top of his lungs: ' She' s discharging! look at her squirt!' Then he had me grasp his thick member, as heavy as a horse' s and of the same color. ' Down on your back,' he cried, ' I' m going to fuck you now.' He flung himself upon my belly, but could accomplish nothing. ' They who say your father popped your cherry are a pack of bloody liars. You' re as mint as a six- months- old babe. Would that all of Europe were here to bear witness to this marvel. A knitting needle couldn' t go into it.' He lubricated me with some preparation, oiling me before and behind, extinguished the candles (my maidenhead had been sold) and pretended to climb into bed. Actually, it was someone else who lay down beside me, for all night long I was harassed by a fat member which got nowhere in the face of my narrow avenues."

At the point in her story when she had quoted Vitnegre' s exclamation, " She' s discharging!" I had slid a hand between her thighs. She felt it there but offered no resistance. I sank a finger into her cunt. " Ah, Papa," said she, " you' ll be just as hard on me as the others when the day comes that I am depucelated."

" How' s that? Depucelated? Is this true, my heavenly child?"

" Never has anyone entered into what you are holding with your hand at this minute."