Realizing that I was also on the point of coming, she got quickly to her feet.
"Hold on a minute, young fellow, my lad," she said in a voice still trembling with emotion, "I know still another that'll satisfy you without making me pregnant."
She turned round; her buttocks were now facing me. She bent down and took my prick in her mouth. I followed her example and began tonguing her love lips, lapping up the female love-juice which tasted like a raw egg. She stepped up the play of her tongue against my glans, and with one hand she tickled my balls and buttocks, while with the other she gripped my penis.
I stiffened with pleasure. She thrust my prick as far in her mouth as possible. Her most secret parts were staring me full in the face. I seized her buttocks, and plunged my tongue into her pothole. I lost control of myself and ejaculated in her mouth.
When I recovered from my momentary rapture, she was lying beside me and had pulled the blankets up over us. She was caressing me, thanking me for the pleasure I had given her, and asked me if I had enjoyed it as much as she.
I had to admit that I had enjoyed that position even more than normal coitus. And then I asked her why she hadn't let me come inside her, since she was married.
"For that very reason," she said. "My husband is impotent, and can tell whenever I cheat on him. Oh, God in Heaven! what I have to put up with from that man!"
I asked her to tell me all about it. She said that her husband could get an erection only if she beat him with a rod until she drew blood.
She likewise had to let him strike her, but only with his hand, and now she was so used to it that she enjoyed it more than it hurt her. He also made her peepee and shit in his presence, so eager was he not to miss a trick. And he got especially worked up when she had her periods.
After she had struck him fifty or even a hundred times, she had to hurry and slip his half-erect member inside, for otherwise it fell limp, except when she licked his buttocks or let him lick her between the toes. Whenever that happened he was able to keep a good hard on, but all these things were pretty disagreeable.
"And on top of all that," she concluded, "the old rascal spends all his time in church."
Her story had aroused the flagging spirits of my John Thomas. Madame Muller had hastened the resurrection by tickling my balls. She had me get between her legs, and turned over on her side. She scissored my buttocks with her legs, so that we were both lying on our sides, face to face. It was a good position, allowing us to lie closely interlaced, and at the same time leaving her titties exposed to my tongue.
I was holding her cunt, which the bout of pleasure had caused to narrow, with my hand. Both of us thrust our fingers into the other's arse-hole. I let my prick slide softly into her cunt, and began to rock as before, sucking her nipples all the while.
I kept my finger moving in her throbbing arse-hole. She came a second time with a cry of delight. She had taken hold of my balls from behind and was squeezing them so tightly that she hurt me, and I had to ask her to let them go.
After having caressed me gently, she turned her head toward the pillow, so that her magnificent buttocks were prominently displayed. I had her rise to her knees and lift her buttocks high. I sent a wad of spit flying into her pothole, and thrust my prick in easily. At each stroke I felt my balls bounce off her buttock cheeks.
She kept telling me how good it felt. I could touch her hairy cunt with one hand and fondle her breasts with the other. Just as I was about to come I started to withdraw but she contracted her buttock muscles around my glans, and I ejaculated squarely into her arse-hole. Afterwards she told me that that was the first time she'd done it that way, and that, although it had hurt in the beginning, in the end she'd enjoyed it.
Feeling my prick harden in her buttocks hole, her sensual forces had awakened and she had had another orgasm at the same time as mine.
"But that's about enough for today," she decided, smiling.
That was about all I could take too. I offered her some dessert, but she insisted that I come and have a short liqueur in her room instead. After which, I came back to my room and fell into bed.
CHAPTER NINE
ONE DAY MY MOTHER decided that all the maids would henceforth sleep on the top story of the chateau, right under the eaves. They began moving their goods and chattels upstairs, and were to start sleeping there the same evening
I watched them move. As one of them, her mattress under her arm, was climbing the last flight of stairs, I sneaked up behind her and lifted her petticoats.
The first thing I grabbed was a pair of firm buttock cheeks, which I drew back against me, at the same time thrusting my thumb into her moist cunt. She raised no cry, but turning round and recognizing me, smiled as if flattered by my gallantry.
It was Ursula, the brunette. I led her up to the top floor and embraced her.
She reacted favorably to the first kiss, and responded actively to the second. Whereupon I seized her blouse at the bosom, and had soon succeeded in slipping inside to caress the firm, brown-tipped hemispheres. A swift movement of the left hand beneath her short dress, and the well-grassed mound was mine.
She squeezed her thighs together and bent slightly forward. I took a nipple in my mouth and sucked it gently, while my finger played with her excited clitoris. Soon I had managed to slip my hand between her thighs, until one, two, three fingers had penetrated her cunt.
She tried to get away, but I pushed her against the wall. I felt her whole body trembling beneath her flimsy clothing. I deftly extracted my John Thomas and thrust it into her box. The position was awkward, the girl was tall and strong, and I would never have been able to screw her unless she had done her share of the work.
So I fucked her standing up. She must have been as hot as an oven, for she quickly reached the climax. I too was on the point of coming, due to the fatiguing position we were in, but just then we heard a noise in one of the adjoining rooms, and Ursula broke away. But the sound soon died away. I showed her my dark, red prick, dripping wet from her discharge. She looked at it, and was moved because, as she said, it was the first time she'd ever seen a city fellow's prick.
"All right now, tit for tat," I said. "Let's see yours."
She responded modestly. I raised her skirt, laid bare a pair of lovely legs and, between her thighs, an impressive mop of black hair. Thanks be to God she was not wearing panties, as the city-bred girls do, who put on all sorts of airs when you meddle with their roots, despite the fact that they really like it as much, if not more than the peasant girls.
Then I stuck my nose into her Lady Jane; it gave off the odor of raw egg – due to her recent discharge – and of piss. When I began to tongue her clitoris she laughed and let her skirt fall back into place. But I held on tight and, squatting beneath the folds of her dress, let my tongue wander at random across the length and breadth of her body, as a result of which I got an even more impressive hard on. But the sounds began anew, and Ursula broke away again, this time for good.
I was obliged to leave, but as Ursula turned to go I lifted her skirts one last time from behind, revealing a pair of really splendid, extraordinarily firm buttocks.
"Just a wee bit more, Ursula." I said, retaining her by her blouse.
I kissed the cheeks of her rump, manipulated them, opened them to smell her arse-hole, which gave off no odor of shit, but only of piss. But finally she broke away, remarking that it was beyond her powers of comprehension how a fellow like myself could get any pleasure from sniffing a poor peasant girl's stinking parts.