Anonymous - Voluptuous Confessions Of A French Lady Of Fashion

The chateau of my grandfather was situated near the city of…. in a delightful country; the park, shaded by fine scattered trees, mostly splendid oaks, or chestnuts, was of great extent and enclosed by walls. The grounds immediately round the house itself being laid out in splendid parterres of the finest flowers, and watered by a little river which traversed a magnificent piece of water, and was lost in the country by capacious meanderings.

My old grandmother, mostly confined to the house, never went much further than the beautiful lake. As to myself my greatest happiness was to wander alone in the most uncultivated parts of the demesne, and in the most retired parts of the park indulge in the reveries of my sixteenth year. These reveries, I ought to confess were always of the same nature; a strange feeling invaded my soul, my young imagination revelled in unknown regions, and presented before my eyes images of tenderness and devotion, in which a young man was always the hero; although profoundly ignorant as to the difference of the sexes, my already awakened feelings moved the whole of my organism, a secret fire circulated in my veins; often a dimness came over my eyes, my limbs trembled, and I was obliged to sit down, a prey to a weakness which combined both pleasure and pain.

It was the month of June, the weather was magnificent, my walks were mostly in the morning when I was sure to be alone.

We received a letter from Madame T., my aunt, who replying to my grandmother's invitation announced her speedy arrival.

Madame T. was about twenty-four or twenty-five, and had been married at the age of twenty to an old man who had left her a widow two years since, mistress of a great fortune, and without children. She was a delightful person, her hair black as ebony, contrasted with the whiteness of her complexion, which was lighted up by her beautiful deep blue eyes. Her mouth, small and pleasing, set off by adorable teeth, as white as the purest ivory, an imperceptible black down shaded her upper lip, giving her a peculiar expression, which, however, had nothing hard or masculine about it; her medium figure, perfectly formed and graceful, with hands and feet of fascinating petitesse; she dressed with taste and elegance.

I loved her very much. Her lively and playful disposition had long captivated me. Accustomed to live with my grandmother, whose age prevented her from affording me any amusement, deprived of companions, I was very happy at the arrival of a relation who would be a friend to me.

A project of marriage had been spoken of between my aunt and Monsieur B., which my grandmother approving, she wrote at once to him, with an invitation to pass some time at the chateau, and in consequence he arrived a few days after my aunt.

What I am going to relate now is very delicate and difficult.

I have hesitated a long time! But after all nobody will read it, I hope so, these lines are for my own perusal. The pictures which I am going to draw are very lively, but they will be true.

What lovers — real lovers, who in each other's arms have not experienced the same? I will add that, even now I am past kissing, I feel a veritable pleasure in recalling the soft enjoyment.

One morning very early, according to my custom, I had gone a long way in the park and sat down at the foot of a tree plunged in my usual reveries.

I saw my aunt, who I thought in bed, some distance off, evidently coming to the little eminence where I was; she was dressed in a fresh peignoir of white and blue.

Monsieur B. was with her, dressed in a suit of nankin and a straw hat, they seemed to be having a lively conversation.

I do not know what secret instinct impelled me to avoid their presence; I hid behind a big tree which completely shielded me from their sight.

They soon arrived at the spot which I had just quitted, and stopping for a moment Monsieur B. looked all around, and convinced that at this hour no one could see them, threw his arms around my aunt, and drawing her to him pressed her to his heart, their lips so joined that I heard a long kiss, which struck to the bottom of my heart.

"My dear Bertha" (that was the name of my aunt); "my angel; my sweet darling! I love you; I adore you. What a frightful time I have passed without you; but soon it will be over! Stop, that I may embrace you again! Give me your beautiful eyes! your lovely teeth! your divine neck! How I could eat them!" he exclaimed.

My aunt, far from resisting, gave herself up to him, returned kiss for kiss, caress for caress. Her colour heightened; her eyes sparkled.

"My Alfred," said she, "I love but you. I am all yours."

One may judge the effect such caresses had upon me. My temperament lighted up as if struck by an electric spark; I was one moment as if paralysed, and lost almost the use of my senses. I recovered myself, however, promptly, and continued to be all eyes and ears. Monsieur Alfred wanted something which I did not understand, and seemed to insist on it.

"No, no, my love," replied Bertha. "Oh, no! not here, I pray you; my God, I never dare! If anyone should surprise us, I should die!"

"My dear, who can see us at this hour?"

"I don't know; but I'm afraid! Stop, you see I couldn't; I should have no pleasure. We will seek a way of doing it; have patience, I beg."

"How do you speak of patience in the state I am in! Give me your little hand; feel him yourself!"

He then took the hand of my aunt, and placed it in such a curious place, that it was impossible for me to understand the cause. But it was worse when I saw this hand disappear in a certain slit, which she had presently unbuttoned, she seized an object which I could not see.

"Dear Mimi," said she, "I see very well how much you want me. How beautiful you are, and I should like it so. If we had only some retreat, I would soon put you to the proof."

And her little hand moved softly, to the great apparent pleasure of Monsieur B., who, immovably erect, his leg a little open, seemed most profoundly pleased — a moment of silence.

"Ah!" suddenly exclaimed my aunt, "what an idea! Come, I recollect, there is near here a pavilion of necessity, you know. It is a curious place for our love, but no one will see us, and I can be all yours, come."

I must explain that the pavilion of which my aunt spoke was intended for us poor humanity, it was constructed like a thatched cottage, and properly appointed in the interior.

Protected by some high brambles, I could approach them without fear of being seen. This I did with infinite precautions, and got to the back of the pavilion at the moment when Bertha had already entered, and Monsieur B., after looking all around also came in and drew the bolt. I sought out a convenient peep hole, and soon found one, as the planks and beams were badly joined, sufficiently large to enable me to see everything. I applied my eye, as I held my breath, and was witness of what I am going to relate.

Bertha, hanging on the neck of Monsieur B., devoured him with kisses.

"Come," she said, "my darling, I was very unhappy to refuse you, but I was afraid. Here, at least, I am assured. This beautiful Mimi, what pleasure I am going to give him. Hold, I come already in thinking of it! But how shall we place ourselves?"

"All right; but first let me see again my dear Bibi, it is such a long time I have wanted her."

You may guess what my thoughts were at this moment. But what were they going to do? I was not left long in suspense.

Monsieur B., going down on one knee, raised the skirts of Bertha. What charms he exposed! Under that fine cambric chemise were legs worthy of Venus, encased in silk stockings, secured above the knee by garters of the colour of fire; then two adorable thighs, white, round, and firm, which rejoined above, surmounted by a fleece of black and lustrous curls, the abundance and length of which were a great surprise to me, compared above all to the light chestnut moss which commenced to cover the same part in myself.