by AnonYMous
Madame Poilsoyeux, much practiced by now, prolonged her discharging beyond anything like an ordinary term. The two others had been unstoppered and had already washed long before she finished ejaculating. The outpouring finally came to an end. Trait-d'Amour washed her, and, seeing my prick restiffened, said, "You'll doubtless wish to fuck her as much this time as you did the last?"
"To be sure," I replied. "My vigor returns to me with no one but this young beauty. I'd fuck her until my prick was reduced to a splinter and my balls as dry as sand. You'll see how well I can managed when skirmishing with a peer. I simply ask to have a double encuntery in view. 'Twill give me heart for the good fight."
My response brought a smile to Trait-d'Amour's lips. In all likelihood he doubted my capacity to match deed to word. "Very well," said he, "I'm going to give you a pleasure you've never had before, nor these other buggers either. I learned this exercise from the Abbé Chonauche, formerly a member of the Order of St. Geneviève, who used frequently to embugger me in the days before I had a beard on my chin or hair on my balls. Once, noticing I was getting tired of his sodomistic incursions, he told me to go and bring him the little Culfraisé, young in years, pretty as Cupid and not yet sold to an English lord. He had me take twelve francs to her mother and a message saying the girl would receive twelve more in addition. The Abbé had her lean with one elbow upon a low table, he got behind her and embuggered while I, in front, encunted her. We marched in simultaneously, our two pricks felt each other, either that or the little slut wiggled her ass in such a way as we fancied we felt one another. Chonauche would now and then let her drive her cunt down around my prick and then, his prick halfway dislodged, he enjoyed the possibility of reembuggering her. While she assfucked with him, I partially decunted, and would then reencunt. This intriguing game lasted as long as Chonauche would hold back his seed. Usually, he'd not discharge at all, reserving all he could muster for my asshole. And so he would have little Culfraisé lie down on her back, I'd encunt her, Meanwhile, the Abbé would embugger me, and we used all three to discharge with one peal of thunder. We'll not adopt the Abbé's scheme. 'Tis too fatiguing a way to fuck but he used to pay the pretty buggress. Are you paid, Madame? No, surely not, she's an honest woman, I can tell it from her style of fucking. No whore fucks like Madame. Such being the case, I'm going to give you a physical demonstration with one of the other two girls. Step forth, Minonne, come along Connette. Whichever of you would like to be embuggered and encunted simultaneously, let her present herself, skirts in the air!"
During this speech, which allowed her some respite, Conquette had covered her cunt and breasts, and the two girl, bubs flying free, had sat down beside her. She had kissed their nipples and then calmly covered their breasts with their kerchiefs. Madame Poilsoyeux always became modest again directly she ceased to be fucked. The two girls replied as one: "I! I would!"
"Very well," said Trait-d'Amour, "first one, then the other. Have we any pommade or butter at hand?"
"We do," replied the lovely Satin-cunt, blushing. "Here is a jar of pommade. You will find butter in that dish on the table."
"We'll save the butter for you, my lovely lady, as lovely about the ass and cunt as in the face," resumed Trait-d'Amour. Minonne was industriously greasing her rosebud. "And so you're to be the first, little sister?"
"Aye, and 'twill be you who will depucelate my ass."
"I'm a maid in that sector too," cried Connette.
"No, no," said Trait-d'Amour, "I'll not take these grave responsibilities upon myself. I am today entirely at Madame's disposal. Although bumstuffing, whether active or passive, has always frightened me somewhat, Madame's smooth behind tempts me as much as the narrow scabbard she has beforewards and which, in a week's time, if left unused, or in an hour, if rinsed with cool water, will tighten to such a degree one would think her a virgin again. I am convinced Madame has never been bumfucked." Kneeling, he peered at her asshole. "No, she looks chaste in this quarter too." Conquette smiled dreamily.
Trait-d'Amour's two comrades drew cards to settle who would depucelate Minonne's ass, for both were eager to have her. Fate chose Cordaboyau, moderately pricked, to do the work. He oiled his tool to the root. Trait-d'Amour had Minonne lie on her side and he situated Cordaboyau before her ass and Brisemotte, largely and splendidly pricked, before her cunt. The two youths closed in, each striving to his utmost to wreak havoc, which vigorous bilateral penetration gave Minonne such pleasure that she exclaimed, "Good God! What delight! 'Tis a fuckery fit for a princess!" They say the Queen fucked sandwiched by d'Artois and Vaudreuil ... and the latter would sound her vent.
"Come along," said Trait-d'Amour, "endeavor all three of you to discharge at the same time."
Cordaboyau clutched the wench's haunches so as to drive the deeper into her. Brisemotte did the same, so that, immobilized, she was buffeted about in every direction. "Pay close attention," I told Conquette Ingénue, "and you'll be able to do likewise when your turn arrives, and arrive it shall, for you must became acquainted with every variety of fuckery." Although covering her face with her fan, she turned in such a way as to be able to watch the game through it. Minonne was panting. Connette, stupefied with tongue-tied, lay motionless, staring at her.
"What are you doing there, buggress?" demanded Trait-d'Amour, our master of ceremonies. "Come to our aid, Madame. Suck her nipples, lick her cunt. It's as tidy and clean as a bride's sunny countenance." These energetic words brought the queen of the festival into the dance.
Whilst Minonne labored and whilst Connette was being labored over, the latter unveiled her breasts and Madame Poilsoyeux sucked their extremities, and had hers sucked. The titillations procured her by Conquette's mouth, as satin soft as her cunt, hurled the young Connette into an amorous fury. She pulled up Poilsoyeux' petticoats, inserted her tongue in her cunt and tickled her clitoris. However much in a frenzy, the lovely Conquette's eyes were fixed upon Minonne who, at this point, was announcing to her fuckers that she was ready to discharge. They redoubled their thumping and thwacking. She cried: "Divine prick!" and opened the sluices. The embuggerer and encunter caught her in a crossfire of fuck. It streamed from both ends of her. My daughter, poignantly tongued by Connette, was beside herself and that demure beauty said to the young girl: "Get out of my hole, slut! Give me a fucker! Ho! I say, fucker! Two hundred of them!" Trait-d'Amour heard the call, he drew the toiling Connette aside, pulling her away by the pretty blond goatee growing on her cunt. He anointed Madame Vitnègre's splendid asshole with butter, rubbed some on his towering prick, lay belly down upon her buttocks, nipped into the rosebud, heedless of the faint protests of the embuggered goddess, grasped her with powerful hands, and turned himself and her over so that now he was on his back and his prick still buried to the hilt in her ass. Her cunt is yawning at the ceiling.
Trait-d'Amour calls to her father, "A sublime cunt longs for your kind attentions. Stuff it with something stiff. Don't spare the rod. The slut's ass is full of me and I'll give you a little movement. Forgive me, goddess, I'm a bit giddy. Connette, fiddle with our friend's balls. Give 'em a spin."
I encunted my delicious daughter and felt Trait-d'Amour's ponderous weapon throbbing nearby, further constricting her passage and causing her cunt to oscillate as never a cunt oscillated before. I was delirious as I shouted, "There 'tis, bastard of a Vitnègre, thoroughly a cuckold, cunt and asswise!..." The idea inflamed me, and its brutality prevented me from discharging too soon. I attained the charming nipper at the bottom of her cunt, it suckled my prick, and Trait-d'Amour communicated all his movements to me, causing my adorable fuckeress, already prepared by Connette's tongue, to make some truly startling exclamations.
"Ah!" exclaimed Conquette, "Screw ... oh, screw me ... I am dis-char-ging ... f-f-fuck!"
"There's a cunt full of fuck for you, queen of pricks and gods!" bellowed Trait-d'Amour, and I felt the spasmodic twitching of his thick prick disgorging a cupful of semen. Then I too unburdened myself. My daughter, inundated by
fuck, squirmed and thrashed.
"Oh satiny cunt of my prick," I cried, "how delicious you are!" Madame Vitnègre was still emitting when Trait-d'Amour emerged from her anus. His withdrawal made her discharge again. Conquette, in whose cunt I left my prick to tremble after its eruption, stammered, wept, laughed, and shook beneath me. Connette had abandoned my balls and his prick still erect, Trait-d'Amour had returned to us. "Fuck her for me while she's hot," I said. "She's still leaking. And you," I said to Connette, "go lick that rosebud all covered now with nectar." She obeyed me. But Minonne, her cunt and asshole unstoppered and scrubbed, had nothing to keep her busy. She took Connette's place, asking me whether indeed it were not impertinent to tickle her brother's balls while he was fucking his mistress.
In the meantime Cordaboyau and Brisemotte had laid hands on Connette, the former now encunting while the other embuggered her so as to provide my daughter with an inspiring example. But everything was drawing to an end. Madame Vitnègre ceased her discharging, Trait-d'Amour decunted and guided her to the bidet. She tactfully covered her cunt and breasts, then said to the girls, "My dear friends, go help my landlady prepare us a fine supper." They ran to do her bidding. "If," my daughter said, "you only ask for our ordinary supper, there'll not be half enough." She suggested I confer with Madame Brideconin who, as it turned out, had prepared the usual meal.
"Then go quickly to the butcher across the way," said I, "and get some good wine, too. For we'll not be drinking water." Then we all gathered together in the storeroom.
"Prick up again?" asked Trait-d'Amour; "Mine is. We ought not let these cunts pine away simple because we are waiting for the meal to be served."
"I'm not stiff, in truth," I answered, but the sight of the behind and foot of my goddess sets me afire."
"Why, then, I've something in mind to put a little backbone in your sausage."
"Look sharp, wenches," Trait-d'Amour said to his sister and mistress. "Be quick, off with your clothes! And as for you buggers, take off yours too." He removed all he was wearing. "But we need another actress. I've just seen an engaging creature pass by."
"That was Madame Brideconin, our good friend's landlady," Connette explained.
"No, no, my dear, that was a little brunette who lives at the other end of the court. She's the younger sister of a tall blonde we'll perhaps someday persuade to join us and whose name is Conindoré. The little one's named Rose-Mauve, and they say she's a clever creature and an amorous act, although for all I know she's still a virgin, for her mother keeps a close eye on her. However, when a man kisses her he has no trouble getting her to stick out her tongue for him."
"I know her," the lovely Poilsoyeux said in her well-modulated voice, "and she ... she ... Trait-d'Amour..."
"Yes, my goddess?"
"Put her pretty tongue in my mouth and..."
"And what?"
"Tongued my fur clean."
"Go fetch her, Connette."
"No." Conquette said with decision. "I'll go for her myself."
She left and having encountered Rose-Mauve, who was coming back down the stairs because she'd found at home that wealthy old uncle of hers whose impotent lubricity she used to stimulate by tickling his scrotum and testicles, which would get him limply up, Conquette told her what was afoot, obtained her consent, and brought her to the storeroom. The two girls and the three young men were as naked as the day they were born. Without addressing a word to her, they all five set to work removing her clothes, all of which save her underslip disappeared in a trice. Next, her ass, her cunt, thighs and feet were washed. Then Trait-d'Amour said to her, "You must do everything in imitation of my sister and my mistress." There and then the dance of the blacks began: each girl made all the movements of an ardent negress who first flees from the prick she is dying to have in her cunt, who is then caught by the prick, and who finally wiggles and slithers her hips and ass just as if the prick were gliding into her. The boys chased after the girls with their pricks in their fists and, directly they had seized them, they were turned around for encuntment and stuck from behind. The boys squirmed, writhed, snapped, bit, and fought as though they were tearing the cunts to pieces. The girl took the prick in her hand. The boy the girl's cunt hair.
I had a thundering erection. I raised my daughter's negligée above her waist. "Cunt of Venus!" I said. "Copy all those ass and cunt movements you see." She was definitely aroused. She ran into the center of the dance, and began rapidly to execute the various steps.
Seeing my prick aloft and his companions also in a cheery disposition, Trait-d'Amour sounded the trumpet: "To the couch!" He abandoned Rose-Mauve, his dancing partner, who appeared most chagrined. "Your turn will come, my sweet," he assured her as he lay Conquette on the sofa and adjusted pillows under her ass. "Come, if you like," he called to Rose-Mauve, "Come lick this cuntlet while I stuff you from behind, or embugger you, whichever you prefer."
"A virgin ought not to be depucelated from behind," she replied in a lively fashion, "so embugger me while I tongue this delightful love-crack." She sucked the dazzling cunt that belonged to Monsieur Vitnègre's dazzling wife, and Trait-d'Amour forged ahead stubbornly into the charming cuntsucker's asshole.
Madame Poilsoyeux cried aloud for aid: "The prick!" she said. "The prick!" I could restrain myself no longer, I swept Rose-Mauve out of my way and pitched headlong into the cunt of my daughter, then panting with lust.
I was in the midst of a vigorous encuntment when I had the delicious surprise of feeling my asshole and my balls too being laved by Rose-Mauve's velvet mouth and tongue. I cuckolded the blessed Vitnègre as copiously as if I'd had the balls of a god. Ablutions followed. "With my goddess' permission," said I, "I'll settle a debt with Rose-Mauve."
"No!" everyone chorused. "No! Wait until Sunday." I paid no attention to them. I thrust my lance into the maid; she wept, sobbed, shrieked and bled in ecstasy, and they were all witness to a resounding victory. But Conquette scolded me as we went to supper.
Conversation was sober, temperate, Brideconin and his wife were edified by what they had heard (They shall soon be seen collaborating in our pleasures). At dessert, Trait-d'Amour asked me to tell a story in keeping with our amusements. I gave him a letter sent to Vitnègre by one of his three clients – I'd found the letter in one of my daughter's trunks, and I invited him to read it to the company.
"One of our well-to-do colleagues had a mistress he used to enjoy in the same manner for which I have a preference. Let me tell you the story of how he got her – I like writing such tales, they give me an erection, and I daresay reading them has a similar effect upon you.
"The girl's father had formerly been rich and had brought her up with all possible care and delicacy. But now he had fallen upon hard times, and was so sorely reduced he was unable to feed either her or his son. My colleague, having found the girl pleasing, asked to buy her. The father sold her to him for 12,000 pounds. But, as Piocheneuil (my colleague's name) is a jaded rake, he requires a real pepper-pot stew to whet his appetite: his favorite stunt is to have the father undress and wash his own daughter before he, Piocheneuil, takes his pleasure with her. The father than catches up the fucker's prick and directs it into the pretty Piochée's unfledged cunt. Her father had oiled it the first time. During the act, he exhorts her to wiggle her ass, to hug the fucker in her arms, and so forth, and, when Piocheneuil decunts, the father washes his prick, his daughter's ass and cunt, and dries them. In the course of their conversation, Piocheneuil soon learned the Piochée had a brother, a veritable Adonis, that is to say, the perfect image of his mother, who had been a most beautiful woman. My colleague hears of the boy's existence and successfully negotiates for him too. He is greased by his father and embuggered by the capitalist. A few days later, wishing to fuck the sister more vigorously, he had the father wash her, the young brother suck her, and he encunts her when she is within an ace of a discharge. Thereafter, he gave up sodomizing the little lad. 'Bugger!' said he to the father, 'The sight of your daughter's
cunt leaves me cold. I need to be stimulated. Do me the kindness of embuggering your young son, that ought to stiffen me.' It was to the father's interest to flatter the libertine's whims and so the father set to work and aroused the old satyr to such a point that he encunted and even embuggered the girl.
"That has been going on for five or six years. When, finally, Piocheneuil had him encunt his sister. He fucked her immediately afterward while the father embuggered the lad. At other times the brother embuggered his sister while the old rascal encunted her. That's the life my colleague leads and he finds it delicious at his age. The girl is delicate and pretty, the boy is handsome, the father's a horror. The girl has become pregnant; my friend is probably correct in ascribing her state to the boy. I hope she bears a daughter – the children of incest are commonly very beautiful – and I should add that this attractive boy is the son of an elder brother who fell madly in love with his mother. He devised a scheme whereby, mixing some ingredient in his father's soup at dinner time, he caused him an enduring and recurrent diarrhea. Obliged constantly to get up from bed, the father would unknowingly cede his place to his son who, every time his father went out to the toilet, used to encunt his mother, six times a night, as a rule. Those, then, are the origins of this handsome youth who so perfectly resembles his deceased mother that, dressed in her clothes, he is taken for her. So it was that a former lover of that beautiful woman kept the young man as his mistress, requiring of him only that he array himself as once she dressed, borrow her name – Madame Broutevit – speak in her lisping low voice, say 'my cunt' instead of 'my ass', whilst he, Vitagon, the love, would allude to the past by saying to his 'mistress': 'Come, my dearest, I'm going to futter you from behind.'"