" Calmer now, Vitnegre has just told me the whole story. The hour is late. I can' t take you home. You' d best go, my darling friend."
Such was the tale Timon recounted to my daughter, which I overheard and which later she repeated in entirety to me. She returned home, her mind occupied by gloomy thoughts. I followed twenty paces behind her, glancing left and right to guard her from any misencounter. My prick rose like a pikestaff at the sight of her moving haunches.
She entered the pension and lingered in the kitchen. I went directly down to the storeroom and hid myself. Down she came, carrying a lamp in one hand and a kettle of warm water in the other. She washed her fur, sighing all the while, and saying to herself, " Even though the villain' s dead, I' m still afraid." I tapped on the bed. Conquette raised her eyes and saw me.
I recounted everything she had been doing. That caused her a fright, but it was a salutary one and cured her of the desire to go to see Timon by herself. I told her I had met Vitnegre on the Quai des Ormes, adding, " You went there for a fuck. You' ll be fucked, too. I' m going to spend the night with you." She sought to beg off, protesting that Timon' s story had banished all desire from her; I refused to listen to such nonsense and got into bed. She soon lay down at my side.
" The appetite is restored by eating," says the proverb, and we shall see how well it applies to Conquette.
Once we were in bed together and my daughter within range, I frolicked with her breasts, sucked her teats, and encunted her. For I know not what reason – whether because put out or stubborn – my divine child lay there unstirring, inert like a slaughtered calf. I also ceased to move and remained with my sword in the scabbard. Later, having slid over upon my side, I fell asleep, my weapon still sheathed. Conquette, who had passively submitted to everything, probably went to sleep also for, when I awoke, I found I was still lodged in her trick. I began to move a little. She hugged me, squeezed her cunt, shifted her flanks, and said, " Push harder, dearest lover!" She began to jolt me with all the strength of her loins, belly and thighs. She discharged. So did I. " Who' s thy chosen fucker, oh, goddess?"
" Ah, for such things as there, there' s no one but you. I' ll resist your will no longer, for you are wiser than I. I have had pleasure – and owe it to you only. Begin again, dear Papa, for I would discharge in your honor. I adore you."
Vigorously reencunting her, " Prithee, fuck now," said I, " as not long ago you fucked with your lover." She shook her buttocks as in olden times did Cleopatra or Messalina and between leaps and bounds. " Oh, bugger- fuck!" she exclaimed. " Fuck, fuck, fuck me, fuck your slut… cuckold my sweet ballocked sire whose wife I am… whose mistress… whose whore! Ah, I feel your prick deep within my cunt! Your tongue. Give me your tongue. Oh, I' m coming… com- ing… com- ing… Fuck me!… Ah! Ah! Ah!… No more. I can bear no more!" With that over with she went off to wash her cunt.
No sooner did she return than I mounted the ramparts again. Off we started. " Fling your ass about, beat me with your cunt," I exhorted her, " make it dance… I can feel your nipper biting my prick' s end
… Ah, creature of my own prick, you fuck mightily well for a novice
… Now accelerate your movements… more rapid yet… good, excellent… what flexible loins!" She leapt thrice and discharged like a musket.
" Oh!" she cried. " I wish my father' s balls were freighted with a ton of fuck, and that he' d shoot it all into the bottom of my cunt!" Her prayer was answered, for I emitted straightway, and our rains of fuck met in ecstatic confluence. She performed a copious ablulation. I refreshed my weary fucking tackle, then we got back into bed and had at each other a third time. The tourney lasted more than an hour. I sucked her nipples and tongue and gave her mine to suck. I had her discharge now and again, finger me constantly and stimulate my balls. I simply had not the heart to decunt. All of a sudden, my daughter, whom I fancied thoroughly done up, fell to wiggling her ass, to convulsing her cunt as in days bygone her mother used to, but even better. My prick adopted the most resolute slope, but I was not within sight of a discharge and was able to ream her barrel as much as she liked. " I' ll not bother to speak of a Vitnegre," said Conquette, " whose pleasure when aboard a woman depends upon the degree to which he brutalizes her. But you, dear Papa, you fuck with greater tenderness and more deliciously than Timon caresses me. You ply your peg like a god. This discharge is for you. A gift for Papa… Papa… drive deep, you' re in your daughter' s cunt, forge ahead, Papa, strike with your ass, fuck me, Papa… you' re in my cunt, so fuck, bugger, fuck
… fuck your daughter, you incestuous pig… drive, drive deeper… into your girl' s cuntlet." She sweated and lay as though dead while her love juice streamed out of her entrails.
I began again to heat the tube, wishing also to discharge before calling a halt to the night' s games. The spark was soon aglow in her. " Fuck, dearest pimp, I' m your whore, your bloody cunt- for- hire… your devoted fuckeress, your loving child," she cried out, agitating her ass with fury.
" Here!" I tried, " here, my darling daughter, is the fuck you yearn for!" I released it deliciously, and my fuckeress discharged with even more pleasure.
" Ah, what a night!" she murmured. " Timon would never have entertained me so sumptuously." She washed, then I did, and we fell asleep.
To be reserved and dignified, modest and voluptuous and an accomplished fuckeress too – that is character in a woman.
And it is rare. Such things are not to be taken lightly. Montencon, at first, failed in his attempt to stuff Madame Poilsoyeux. She was quite as modest, quite as restrained after he succeeded in fucking her as before. She carefully followed the advice I had given her not to allow him to take her accorded or extorted favors for granted. One day, as she bent forward to stir up the fire, Montencon laid hands on her cunt. She wheeled around and slapped him. " I, who know her very well," I said to Montencon, " never touch her buttocks or tug at her cunt hair without first asking permission. To be sure, she usually gives it, telling me to be quick about my business. When she is dressed and got up like one of the Fraces, I begin by requesting leave to kiss her foot. Then, gliding my hand up along her leg, I say: ' You' ve such a pretty leg. Let me kiss it.' I advance to the thigh: ' What satin- smooth skin!' I say. I delicately raise my hand to her fur and exclaim: ' You know, simply to see you walking in the street and shaking your ass in the charming way you have is enough to give any man an erection, make every woman turn green with envy – and I am able to say to myself: ' I' ve just fondled and kissed those tempting, incredibly fuckable delights.' I follow you, I overhear men saying: ' By God, I' d fuck her silly!' I can tell from their expressions what women are thinking: ' What a coquette! That gait, that posture, those clothes, that air signify " I want to be fucked! Come along, all of you, fuck me!'" Buggresses, my prick stands up for nothing but the magnificent cunt which arouses your jealousy. My daughter smiles when she hears these remarks, yields to my fondling, then gives her bubs, buttocks and cunt to be kissed."
Montencon stared admiringly at me and asked Conquette' s forgiveness. She had been listening to what I said, and her cheeks were suffused by a chaste blush.
Some time later, having conducted her to the home of a friend. I returned in the evening to bring her home. As I was walking several paces behind her, the sublime contours of her buttocks gave me so solid an erection that, once back at Madame Brideconin' s, I made a bee- line for her cunt. She demurred, for the landlady was stirring about in the vicinity. " At this particular moment, my adorable goddess, I am so inflamed by lubricity – it was the way you walked that provoked this commotion in me – that I could very easily fuck you in front of everyone in Paris." I gritted my teeth, still holding tight to her cunt hair, that silky hair which formed a long and superb peruke in the Louis XIV style.