I may return to this topic in another chapter.
8. A DIFFICULT TASK
Since the pretty face of my beautiful blue-eyed lady had made such a fool of me, I was searching my acquaintances for somebody who might make me forget that miserable hour, and my choice fell upon the Countess Tillig.
She was at the most twenty-four years old, her hair was in between brunette and blonde, she had a beautiful skin and she was definitely not skinny.
I searched her sparkling eyes for a sign that I might be rebuked, and to my pleasant surprise I discovered that not only did she not mind my staring at her, but she enjoyed the attention and actually encouraged it. The big question was, now, how to approach her, because her sixty-year-old husband guarded her with Argus eyes.
I paid my respects to her on various occasions, but I never succeeded in finding her alone long enough to exchange a few words.
I had almost decided to give up all thoughts of ever getting close to her because my hot-blooded nature demanded satisfaction, when fortune smiled upon me. The count fell ill. I knew nothing about this, because I was at a masked ball, ready to select a pretty mask for a night's dalliance.
Suddenly an ugly peasant woman talked to me, took my hand and wrote with her finger the word “Tillig” in it.
I did not understand what she meant when the masked lady led me into a small sideroom, pulled off her mask and behold! the countess was standing in front of me.
What a surprise!
I was so overjoyed that I kissed her.
“Psst… my husband is ill; if you believe it possible to find more pleasure with a lady who has reason to believe that she is not at all distasteful to you than you will find here at this masked ball, please follow me.”
She walked out without waiting for my answer.
I followed her, handed my domino and my mask to my servant and ducked with her into the waiting coach.
When we arrived at her home, she led me speedily into a small, dark room, kissed me quickly, and left.
I sat there for almost an hour and began to get very impatient when the door opened. My countess appeared and showed me into yet another room.
“If I have taken you away from better delights…”
I put both arms around her body.
“Better delights? To embrace a lovely and soft body like yours, to be allowed to kiss these fresh rosy lips… what better delights could possibly exist?”
I must admit that I nearly swooned when I pressed her lovely body close to me and the heavy breathing of the countess left no doubt as to what was going on in her mind and body.
A nice comfortable bed stood against one of the walls. I took my countess by the hand and walked her to it; I sat her down and she sighed. I loosened her bodice and was surprised at what I saw. Two gigantic snowballs of a size I had never seen before rolled toward me; I had the feeling I was drowning in milk foam.
I passionately pressed my lips upon hers, became very vigorous, jumped up and quickly started to divest myself of all my clothes.
“What are you doing? We are not that safe!”
I did not listen but stood there in my birthday costume, pulling and tugging at her dress, and soon I was with my voluptuous and hefty goddess under the blankets.
I give you my honor that it was not just a small delight for me when I pressed her soft body against mine. It was a novelty to feel those heavy, soft thighs and those enormous buttocks. And it was even more so when I searched my way to her passion grotto.
The countess shuddered voluptuously when my fingers touched the god at the entrance and the little imp jumped back. I stretched myself full length on top of her soft body.
Imagine floating on a very soft down mattress and you will approach the way I felt on top of my countess. I sank into her foam-soft flesh the way a tired head sinks into a goose-down pillow. My countess received me with a passionate sigh, pressed my lips against hers and sucked as if she wanted to rip out my tongue.
I guided my prick into position. God Hymen refused entrance at first and did not let him in till after some skirmishes.
Never before had my staff entered a grotto with such a feeling of delightful passion and never before had it been received with such festivities. It took all my power of concentration not to be carried away on the first deep wave of passion, and it gave me great delight to view my countess. Despite the fact that she had lifted her behind somewhat, I had to support myself with my hands because of her enormous belly and thus had a perfect opportunity to view her in all her ripe glory. I could also feel every slight increase of her emotions.
Her eyes became smaller and smaller, her face redder and redder. Her mouth was half open and her tongue flicked back and forth. Her breathing became halting and the sound got louder. Her bosom heaved in great big rolling waves, and every time I increased the pressure she would jerk and a softly whispered, “Aah!” escaped her lips.
Now her emotions had reached the highest degree; her eyeballs turned back, she opened and closed her mouth as if chewing something she could not swallow, she gasped for breath and her body performed all sorts of convulsive contortions.
I relied entirely upon my imagination and feeling and emphasized every one of my movements.
She started to boil over. Her passion pit flooded and at the same time my own dam burst and an enormous wave broke through. The countess closed her eyes, her breathing stopped, her body went limp and my prick slipped out of the grotto.
She had truly fainted and sunk into a deep coma.
I listened, did not notice any breathing, and I became scared.
I looked around the room for some cold water but didn't find any.
Kissing, caressing, shaking her-all to no avail-I squeezed and massaged her huge globes, petted her moist passion pit and found god Hymen quivering. He was the only thing left alive in her.
My readers can be assured that my embarrassment was very great.
Finally she opened her eyes.
“Oh, my God, where am I?”
“In the arms of your passionate lover, my dear countess.”
“Yes… so passionate, you could have cost me my life.”
She took my rod in her soft hand.
“Is it possible that this little devil is capable of fanning the fires of passion into all-consuming flames at will?”
I kissed her and mounted my soft countess again.
“Do you require proof, my beautiful lady?”
“Only with fire and vigor my dear Baron. Otherwise I don't think I could stand it.”
She grabbed my behind, directed the motion and enjoyed the delights with even greater pleasure than before.
The countess was by far the most passionate woman I had ever met. Unfortunately she was also absolutely and ravenously insatiable. She did not dream of saving for the future. On the contrary, even the periods of recuperation in between lasted too long for her, and barely had her cup of delight been filled to the brim when she managed to dry up and was clamoring for a refill. She tried everything to revive my flagging passions and have me fill her cup again.
It was a very difficult task I had to fulfill. The Venus cup had been emptied six times and now she reached to me for a seventh.
The last two times had been rather tasteless, but now…
I found that the soft flesh which I had liked so much at the beginning had become oily, flabby, spongy and decidedly unpleasant. The aroma was positively repulsive. But what was I supposed to do? Right or wrong, I gathered all my courage and by playing and rubbing the shaft of my prick I finally succeeded in getting it halfway up.
“Well, let's not lose any time!”
She tried everything to let me partake of her undiminishing passion, but without the slightest success.
“Such a young cavalier and tired already?”
And she grabbed me firmly and started to labor under me.