Ah, how she wriggles! It seems as if there are a million demons or cupids all along my prick; with consummate art she tickles my tool and while I hold her on the end of it, she wriggles and commences to spend.
At that moment I take a look at the Count.
He has placed his boy in a kneeling position with his head thrown on an ottoman and has stuck his enormous prick into his behind.
The boy moves his round and dimpled backside with as much art as the most skilful grisette. He knows all the fine points and with the movements of his behind puts the Count into ecstasies of delight. I see his tremendous prick move in and out of those two rosy hills and the pretty little behind gives a shove to make it enter still further, then recedes to let it come further out, and so on.
During this time the Count fingers his little prick, which stiffens and becomes about the size of my finger. This sight, added to the efforts of my little charmer, throws me into the final spasm and as I inject a spray of sperm into the cunt of the little girl, she seems to feel the same voluptuous pleasure as I do. She kisses me and continues the movement a little longer, in order to give me the full enjoyment of it and probably to satisfy herself, then she too, disappears as she came, scarcely giving me time to see her little bottom disappear behind the curtained door.
The Count finished first. He now gave an order in Russian and Ivan entered with a tray and two glasses and a little flask containing a bright red liquid. Two little pieces of fruit, nicely cut, accompanied the liquid. I was served first and put the fruit into my mouth after seeing the Count do so.
"When you feel a little hard substance," he said, "swallow it without uneasiness. It is a preparation which invigorates you."
I had just come to a sweet substance and according to instructions, swallowed it. Ivan presented me then with the glass of liquor which I drank. The liquid seemed to instil new life in me; I felt its warmth pervade my whole being. I had not before noticed a large handsome woman standing before me. She wore Turkish trousers of black silk, while between her thighs was a large mass of silky hair. She holds an enormous dildo in her hands and her bare bosoms, large, well separated, and as firm as marble spheres, seem to shiver in voluptuous anticipation.
At this moment she smiles at the Count and seats herself astride of a chair, after tying the dildo to one of her heels. She now introduces it into the lips of her cunt, while with a movement of her legs she puts it in rapid motion.
It soon appears that she enjoys this game immensely, when suddenly, not finding her legs agile enough, she unties the dildo and throwing herself on the floor, spreads her legs wide apart and shakes the enormous affair about inside of her.
In her passion she throws herself first upon her belly, then on her side, sometimes working fast, then again slowly, very slowly. Sometimes she holds it motionless and with the movement of her arse, presses it in; then again she places it upright on the floor and after letting her trousers down around her feet, she steps over it and forces her cunt open with its large end. Her great round arse rises and falls like a voluptuous machine, as she pushes it up to the hilt.
Her buttocks rebound faster and faster, and finally she throws herself upon her back and reaches the last great paroxysm of enjoyment by gently rubbing with her cunt, as she squeezes the dildo between her powerful thighs, which seem to be made of stone.
Thus, almost nude as she was, she resembled an antique statue and as she displayed her magnificent treasures, my prick fairly ached to take the place of the dildo which she was moving gently in her palpitating organ.
A slight sign from the Count aroused her and she retired slowly, her enormous arse, between whose cheeks I would willingly have disported myself, shaking as she walked away.
CHAPTER SIX
The Count suddenly began laughing; I felt the same desire, gradually creeping over me. I laughed and keep on laughing, unable to stop.
Lights seem to flash before my eyes, but I imagine some one is tying me; a bright light approaches me suddenly. I am in a delightful garden. It is immense-it seems to be a conservatory.
Delicious music is heard, first in the distance, then nearer. The scene changes like a flash. I am now in a room all hung in black; the music changes, a lovely woman enters and undresses herself. The scene is familiar to me. I have seen it somewhere. I finally recognize it as a scene in the passage of a book entitled The Exposition, which I have been reading. After having enjoyed reading it, I have the pleasure of seeing it. Then all is dark again, until another flash of light illuminates the next scene.
Two brigands have seized a magnificent woman; she begs for mercy and offers them money but I can see in their eyes that they will only be satisfied by assaulting the beauty. One of them is a strapping big fellow, but handsome withal; he cuts the laces of her bodice with a single stroke and begins to feel her bosoms. She struggles vainly, and the other man raises her skirts and lays bare a glorious bottom; she turns and twists in every direction and to punish her, he unbuckles his leather belt and lathers her handsome arse furiously.
The poor woman weeps, but instead of appeasing him, her screams seem to excite him all the more. The other robber after feeling her bosoms, finally draws them out and admires them, and taking an enormous prick out of his trousers, rubs it gently between her snowwhite legs.
At last she quiets down and her struggles cease. The second robber leaves off whipping her and he, too, draws out his prick and placing it first in her arse, at last presents it at the entrance of her handsome portico.
The beauty again resists, but two or three slaps bring her to reason, and she allows him to introduce the haughty head of his prick between the shuddering lips of her cunt. His need must have been great, for he had scarcely given two or three shoves before he spends.
At this, the other robber raises her skirts and putting her in the desired position, enters also by the front. The poor traveller overwhelmed them both with insults and renewed her struggles, but now the tall fellow inserted his instrument, and the more she wriggled and twisted, the more she excited him. He holds her two hands in one of his and applies his mouth to hers.
He kisses her beautiful titties and discharges at the very moment that she spits into his face. It is only after satisfying themselves five or six times apiece that they tie her to a tree, whip her again and leave her at the mercy of other brigands, or some passer-by.
Scarcely have they disappeared when a monk passes by. He crosses himself as he perceives the handsome cunt so well exposed. The woman implores him to untie her and he does so, when she relates her story to him. She is about thirty-five years old and from her story he learns that she is the Lady Superior of a convent not far distant, but she does not give its name.
She had donned a costume to preserve her identity while on a visit. The coach was stopped by two brigands, and she was made to descend.
Being the only woman in it, they ordered the driver to continue his journey and leave her with them. No one, not a single man had the courage to interfere, but allowed the robbers to drag her to the woods.
As the Abbess finished her story, her eyes assumed a strange look. The nudity which she was unable to cover was beautiful in the extreme, so dimpled and so white. The monk does not dare look at her but she looks at him and I soon perceive that this poor St. Anthony is having a rude trial to support.