“Stop a moment,” cried Ambrose, whose pleasure had become insupportable, and whose spunk was nearly provoked to rush out of him. “Let us pause. Shall I change with you, my friend? The idea is lovely.”
“No, oh, no! I cannot move, I can only go on—this dear child is perfect enjoyment.”
“Be still, Bella, dear child or you will make me spend. Don’t squeeze my weapon so rapturously.”
“I cannot help it—you kill me with pleasure. Oh! go on, but gently. Oh, not so hard! Don’t push so fiercely. Heavens! You’re going to spend, I feel it! My God! you kill me—you slit me up with that big thing. Ah! Oh! Come then! Spend, dear—Father Ambrose. Give me the burning spunk. Oh! push now harder—harder—kill me, if you like.”
Bella threw her white arms round his brawny neck, opened wide her soft and beautiful thighs, and took in his huge instrument, until his hairy belly rubbed on her downy mount.
Ambrose felt himself about to go off in rapturous emission right into the body of the girl under him.
“Push—push now!” cried Bella, regardless of all modesty, and giving down her own discharge in spasms of pleasure. “Push—push—drive it up me. Oh, yes, like that. Ah, God, what a size! What a length—you slit me, brute that you are. Oh, oh! oh! You are off—I feel it. Oh, God what spunk! Oh, what gushes!”
Ambrose discharged furiously, like the stallion that he was, thrusting with all his might into the warm belly below.
He then reluctantly withdrew, and Bella, released from his clutches, turned to regard the other pair. Her uncle was administering a shower of short thrusts at her little friend, and it was evident a climax must soon be put to his enjoyment.
Meanwhile Julia, whose recent violation and subsequent hard treatment by the brutal Ambrose had sadly hurt and enfeebled, had not the slightest pleasure, but lay an unresisting and inert mass in the arms of her ravisher.
When therefore, after a few more pushes, Verbouc fell forward in a voluptuous discharge, she was only aware that something warm and wet was being rapidly injected into her, without experiencing any other sensations than languor and fatigue.
Another pause followed this third outrage, during which Mr Delmont subsided into a corner and appeared to be dozing. A thousand pleasantries now took place. Ambrose, while reclining upon the couch, made Bella stride over him, and applying his lips to her reeking slit, luxuriated in kisses and touches the most lascivious and depraved.
Mr Verbouc, not to be behindhand with his companion, played off several equally libidinous inventions upon the innocent Julia.
The two then laid flat upon a couch, and felt all her beauties over, lingering with admiration upon her yet unfledged motte, and the red lips of her young cunt.
After a time the desires of both were seconded by the outward and visible signs of two standing members, eager again for a taste of pleasures so ecstatic and select.
A new programme was now, however, to be inaugurated. Ambrose was the first to propose it.
“We have had enough of their cunts,” said he, coarsely, turning to Verbouc, who had passed over to Bella, and was playing with her nipples. “Let us try what their bottoms are made of. This lovely little creature would be a treat for the Pope himself, and ought to have buttocks of velvet and a derriere fit for an Emperor to spend into.”
The idea was instantly seized upon, and the victims secured. It was abominable, it was monstrous, it was apparently impossible, when viewed in all its disproportionate character. The enormous member of the Priest was presented to the small aperture of Julia’s posterior—that of Verbouc threatened his niece in the same direction. A quarter of an hour was consumed in the preliminaries and after a frightful scene of lust and lechery, the two girls received in their bowels the burning jets of these impious discharges.
At length a calm succeeded to the violent emotions which had overwhelmed the actors in this monstrous scene.
Attention was at length directed to Mr Delmont.
That worthy, as I have before remarked, was quietly ensconced in a corner, apparently overcome with sleep, or wine, or possibly both.
“How quiet he is,” observed Verbouc.
“An evil conscience is a sad companion,” remarked Father Ambrose, whose attentions were directed to the ablution of his lolling instrument.
“Come, my friend—it is your turn now, here is a treat for you,” continued Verbouc, exhibiting to the edification of all the most secret parts of the almost insensible Julia; “come and enjoy this.—Why, what is the matter with the man? Good heavens, why,—how—what is this?”
Verbouc recoiled a step.
Father Ambrose leant over the form of the wretched Delmont—he felt his heart.
“He is dead,” he said, quietly and so it was.
Chapter 12
Sudden death is so common an event, especially among persons whose previous history has led to the supposition of the existence of some organic deterioration, that surprise easily gives place to ordinary expressions of condolence, and this again to a state of resignation at a result by no means to be wondered at.
The transition may be thus expressed:
“Who would have thought it?”
“Is it possible?”
“I always had my suspicions.”
“Poor fellow!”
“Nobody ought to be surprised!”
This interesting formula was duly gone through when poor Mr Delmont paid the debt of nature, as the phrase goes.
A fortnight after that unfortunate gentleman had departed this life, his friends were all convinced they had long ago detected symptoms which must sooner or later prove fatal; they rather prided themselves on their sagacity, reverently admitting the inscrutability of Providence.
As for me, I went about much as usual, except that for a change I fancied Julia’s legs had a more piquant flavour than Bella’s and I accordingly bled them regularly for my repast matutinal and nocturnal.
What could be more natural than that Julia should pass much of her time with her dear friend Bella, and what more likely than that the sensual Father Ambrose and his patron, the lecherous relative of my dear Bella, should seek to improve the occasion and repeat their experiences upon the young and docile girl!
That they did so, I knew full well, for my nights were most uneasy and uncomfortable, always liable to interruption from the incursions of long hairy tools among the pleasant groves, wherein I had temporarily located myself, and frequently nearly drowning me in a thick and frightfully glutinous torrent of animal semen
In short, the young and impressionable Julia was easily and completely broken up, and Ambrose and his friend revelled to their heart’s content in her complete possession.
They had gained their ends, what mattered the sacrifice to them? Meanwhile other and very different ideas were occupying the mind of Bella, whom I had abandoned, and feeling, at length, a degree of nausea from the too frequent indulgence in my new diet, I resolved to vacate the stockings of the pretty Julia and return—‘Revenir a mon mouton,’ as I might say—to the sweet and succulent pastures of the prurient Bella.
I did so, and ‘voici le resultat!’
One evening Bella retired to rest rather later than usual. Father Ambrose was absent upon a mission to a distant parish, and her dear and indulgent uncle was laid up with a sharp attack of gout, to which he had lately become more subject.
The girl had already arranged her hair for the night. She had also denuded herself of her upper garments and was in the act of putting her ‘chemise de nuit’ over her head, in the process of which she inadvertently allowed her petticoats to fall and display before her glass the beautiful proportions and exquisitely soft and transparent skin.