Oh how I regret that pretty silken- haired cunt I licked and prodded for six fine months! My father, Claude Linguet, to whom I bore no resemblance in this matter, sent his daughters away as soon as their vicinity aroused him significantly… It was even claimed that Madeleine had attempted to get herself stuffed by him. However all that may be, she departed for Paris three days after the charge was leveled, and in Paris our dear ecclesiastical brother found her a governess' place in the household of a rue de Saint- Honore canon. That beggar wasted no time determining what her talents were. There was a hidden door – about whose existence only he knew – which opened into the apartment occupied by his governess, whom he used to pass the night exercising. But never had he set eyes upon a cunt to match Mademoiselle Linguet' s silky- haired article; he went repeatedly to stare at it. Its beauty enthralled him, and he knew he would have neither rest nor peace until he had fucked it. One night as she lay sleeping very soundly – rather as she appeared to be sleeping soundly and was making a great effort to maintain that appearance – he applied his mouth to that singular cunt, and to her assailant ' twas plain she discharged; he immediately mounted and encunted her; she hugged him in her arms, the while stirring her ass rhythmically. " Ah, my precious," says he, " you do dance wonderfully well! But it' s not hurting you, is it? You mustn' t overdo it… else I' ll be obliged to think you somewhat a whore…" But her bloodied nightgown, and the bloodied sheets also, proved to him he had a novice under his belly; he adored her. She fucked blissfully, sacredly with this saintly personage and their liaison lasted two years at the end of which she buried him; however his testament left her an inheritance, and thus endowed she married the son of her mother' s first husband.
More mature by the time Madeleine had acquired a husband and returned to Reims, I had a very imperious desire to get into her. For a space of more than two years I had been reduced to sucking and frolicking with Babiche and several of my first cousins, but either my prick was thickening or all those still- beardless cunts were shrinking. I solicited a nocturnal rendezvous with the recently wedded Madeleine, and Madame Bourgelat granted me an interview for that same night. We were at our parents' farm; her husband had just been called away to Reims on business. By I know not what coincidence or for what cause, my father was not feeling well that night and, after having treated whatever ailed him, my mother, in order to avoid disturbing his sleep, left his bed and went to share the one her daughter was occupying. The latter, observing that our mother had dozed off, rose quietly and came to lie with me; I, however, had in the meantime got up and gone in search of her. Unluckily, our paths did not cross. I stretched out beside the woman I discovered on her back in Madeleine' s bed. Asleep though she was, I climbed into the saddle and made my entry. I was surprised to make such an easy way in; she folded me in her arms, squeezed, and, still half- conscious, bounced her ass about for a few moments. " Never, oh, never have you given me such pleasure," she sighed through her drowsiness. I also discharged and promptly collapsed from too much delight, my face lying upon her breasts which, while she was not young, were still firm, for she had not raised her children and those charms had never been much handled.
Madame Bourgelat returned from her fruitless quest at about the same instant I released my seed; she was greatly bewildered by the words her mother and substitute had just uttered. Then she grasped that I had been fucking her, and led me away to my bed, where she deposited me, still in a swoon. Thus it was in the maternal womb I began effectively to sow my wild oats. When I returned to my senses; Madeleine went back to my mother' s bed. Awake by now, Mother asked what my sister had been up to and then added in a whisper: " You surely have odd ways."
" My husband," replied Madame Bourgelat, " often has me get on top; I was dreaming, that' s how it all happened and when I woke up I must have jumped out of bed." My mother apparently believed this.
However, the shot had been fired good and true. Madame Linguet' s belly began to swell and she secretly gave birth to a son, and a splendid son to boot, whom she very cleverly substituted for her grown son' s child, this latter infant having been stillborn. This son my own mother bore me was known as Petit Coq.
A week went by. At its end, completely recovered from the state into which the first discharge had hurled me, I sallied forth from my bed once again, and to another rendezvous. Now, reader, bear admiring witness to my misfortune: our activities had been remarked by a strapping big bosomed wench, a country girl who worked in our fields as a harvester and who had her lodgings in the barn. As Madame Bourgelat was upon one occasion readying to join me in my bed, Mammelasse (as our full- blown girl was called), who was in love with me, for she frequently frigged herself in my honor, but who was not however a bad sort, took it into her head to advise my brother- inlaw to lock his bedroom door at night and to keep an eye on his lady. He did as she recommended, and judge for yourself what was my astonishment when, instead of a soft- haired cunt and round delicate bubs, I found myself fisting two well- inflated balloons and tumbling through a widesprung gate into a veritable mineshaft. I pushed valiantly on into the unknown notwithstanding and had myself a pleasant time. But dizziness all but claimed me again and I came near to having to retake to my bed.
Finally I did have the opportunity to stuff Madeleine and that was in the hayloft. I was performing like a madman, I encunted her prodigiously, but, at her third reply to my thumpings, I exploded… and properly fainted.
Madeleine avoided according me favors whose effects upon me terrified her. Deprived, I suffered. But not for long. A week after this last scene, I took leave of the farm and journeyed to Paris, whither I went in the pursuit of learning. But it is not by relating my life as a student that I propose to entertain the reader. I went at once to see the lovely Marie, the second of my elder sisters and she offered me her hospitality and a room.
I had begun my career by making a cuckold of my father; I had cornified my brother- in- law, fucking and causing his wife to discharge and impregnating her into the bargain, for Madame Bourgelat, who was never to have but this one child, brought my bastard into the world nine months after our scuffle in the hayloft. But much remained to be accomplished with those seven other sisters of whom six, or at least five, were supremely encuntable.
But let us return to Marie, the most beautiful of the lot. One day I beheld her dressed and adorned with that certain taste pretty women usually have. A superb bouquet shadowed her fair breasts. The sight of her caused my prick to rise approvingly. I was nineteen years of age, and had already fucked and fattened three women, for Mammelasse had a daughter of whom, according to her boasting, I was the sire and who looked so much like Genovefette you would have supposed them two peas in a pod. I was not a lad susceptible to vague or nameless desire; I inclined directly towards my amiable elder sister' s cunt. That evening after dinner, she retired for the night; the conjugal couch was situated in a dimly lit alcove. She had perceived a bulge in her husband' s fly, for his white breeches fitted him snugly, and she was eager to give him the pleasure of a full- dress fuck. I concealed myself in a place whence I could see everything that transpired. But, after having toyed with my sister' s teats and her cunt, after having increased the light in the alcove and subjected her cunt to an admiring appraisal, my brother- in- law elected moderation, decided to postpone his pleasure till the morrow, and, to my surprise, went out on tiptoe. I saw him take his cane and hat; then he was gone. I entered the room: the husband had left his wife' s skirts around her neck and the door unlocked. I bolted it and, untrousered, with the devil' s own erection, I made a bee- line to her. I stoppered that yawning cunt, now sucking her bared bubs, now her slightly parted lips. She mistook me for her husband; the tip of her tongue thrilled in my mouth. My prick went in wearing its hat: at that period I had not yet had the foreskin snipped and, stunting my device, it made it seem stouter, as bulky as the departed husband' s. I drove sturdily ahead, my beloved quivered and squirmed, and my inspired weapon touched bottom… whereupon my sister, half out of her mind, convulsed in a spasm. I, myself, discharged and… fainted.