Pleasures and Follies

by AnonYMous

  Pleasures and Follies

  By

  Anonymous

  A Renaissance E Books publication

  ISBN 1-58873-027-1

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2001 by Renaissance E Books

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

  For information contact:

  Renaissance E Books

  P. O. Box 494

  Clemmons, NC 27012-0494

  USA

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  Chapter One

  I was born in a village which lies near Reims where I was familiarly known as Cupidonnet. From earliest childhood I had a decided weakness above all for prettily turned feet and cunning little shoes, in which predilections I bore a resemblance to the Grand Dauphin, son of Louis XIV, and to Thevenard, the actor at the Opéra.

  The first girl to get my youthful stem up was an engaging peasant who used to take me to vespers. With one hand posed on my unclothed bum, she was wont to tickle my wee ballocks and, feeling me rise, would kiss me upon the mouth with an entirely virginal impetuousness, for, although well-behaved, she was also hot-blooded.

  The first girl upon whom I in turn laid my hands, in consequence of my enthusiasm for pretty footwear, was the youngest of my sisters, Genovefette. In all, I had eight sisters, five older than me and by a former marriage, and three who were younger. The second-born of the earlier crop was as pretty as can be; I'll have a great deal to say about her. The hair upholstering the trick of the fourth was so silken and fine 'twas all by itself a delight; the rest were ugly. But each of my three younger sisters was more of a provocative little minx than the others.

  Now Genovefette, the most voluptuously attractive, held first place in my mother's preference, and, returning once from a trip to Paris, my mother brought back an exquisite pair of slippers for her. I watched Genovefette try them on, and the sight caused me to get violently erect. The following day – it was a Sunday – she donned some new sheer white cotton stockings, a corset which drew in her waist, and with that luscious ass of hers. Although she was still of tender age, she must have made my father's prick stand up, for he bade my mother send her from the room. (I had hidden myself under the bed so as the better to see my sister's shoe and lower leg.) Directly Genovefette was gone, my father had at her (my mother) and there, upon the bed below which I lay concealed, set the clapper to ringing the bell, the while saying; "Oh, I tell you, keep an eye on your beloved daughter, she's going to have a devilish temperament, I warn you. But she'll have to compete fiercely, for I fuck like a steer, and look at the rewards I have for my trouble – cunt juice – you're squirting it out like a princess." I noticed that the door was half-opened and that Genovefette was watching and listening to what was happening. My father was right: that pretty rascal was handselled by her confessor and thereafter fucked by virtually everyone. But today she's all the wiser for it.

  After dinner Genovefette came into the garden, where I chanced to be by myself. I stared admiringly at her, and lo! up soared my device! Having stepped close to her, without saying a word, I squeezed her waist, touched her foot, her thigh, fondled as pretty a cuntlet, as superb a cuntlet, as ever there was. Genovefette was silent too. I had her get down on all fours, on, that is to say, her hands and knees. In imitation of the manner of dogs, I wanted to plumb her thus, whining and snapping and jerking with all my strength the way a dog does.

  Powerfully clutching her groin with both hands, I made her arch her flanks so that two holes were equally well at my disposal; therewith I closed in and poked the end of my stem between her lips, beseeching her to raise her ass: "Get it up so that I can get in," I repeated several times.

  But, and the truth of it was only too plain, so youthful a crack was not readily able to accommodate a prick whose foreskin had not yet reached the back-slipping stage (what I needed was a well-beaten path, and I obtained one shortly afterwards). I could do no better than pry open her cunt's shutters, but there ensued no discharge, for I was still a little fellow and very new at the sport. Unable to encunt her, following the example of the creatures I had chosen to emulate, I set to licking that infinitely delectable gap.

  Genovefette experienced, no doubt, an agreeable titillation, for she showed no sign of tiring of the game, and when at last I got back to my feet she kissed me a hundred times over. Then she was called back to the house and ran off.

  As her breasts had not yet begun to develop, she promptly – the next day – outfitted herself with false bubs, probably because she had overheard praise spoken of my mother's or some friend's.

  I perceived these latest accouterments, had her put on her new shoes and, having placed her upon her bed in a suitable posture, we fenced away for a good two hours. I believe she did indeed ejaculate, for my cunt lickery induced her to writhe and thrash like a small demon. Two days later she was packed off to Paris to begin an apprenticeship. There, in the capital, she lived up handsomely to my father's predictions.

  Of the younger sisters left to me, one was properly behaved and kept me at bay (since those days I have fucked both her daughters in Paris), and the other sister was still too young. The first, with whom nothing availed, was a superb creature of eighteen. I had to fall back upon the child when it became evident that Cuthos, Genovefette's twin, was unapproachable. Ever since having had one within reach, I absolutely could not do without a cunt near at hand. I put Babiche through her preliminary paces; at last one Sunday, when she was dressed in her best and after my mother had given her a bath, we had a sucking spree.

  'Twas during that enjoyable operation that I was surprised by the ardent Madeleine of the silken-haired cunt, she had spent a long time quietly observing us before interrupting our antics, and, remarking that the little one was in the throes of pleasure, she was herself tempted to go under the tongue. When she broke her silence, we two who were at grips separated in keeping with decency. Madeleine said almost nothing at all, only asked Babiche to leave, then hazarded a conversation with me. Our gossiping lead to teasing, and it was not long before she had thrust me into the hay (I had led Babiche into the barn's loft). As I lay sprawled on my back, she tickled me, covering me with her body, straddling me, one leg to this side, one leg to that. By pure accident I reached my hand beneath her skirts and found there that admirable silken-haired cunt. That divine fur sealed my passion for her and I straightway went mad over Madeleine's cunt; I besought her permission to kiss it. "Why, then, little rascal," said she, "wait a moment." She went out to the well, drew a bucket of water, fetched it back up to the hay loft and squatted above it. That done, she returned to me and we prattled some more. Inflamed, beside myself, in my youthful erotic fury I exclaimed to her: "I've got to lick that little hole!" She lay down on her back, her legs spread wide; I licked; the lovely Madeleine elevated her ass: "Drive your tongue inside, dear little friend," said she, and I inserted it and she raised her fur; I burrowed furiously in! She all but screamed from pleasure's onslaught. My member was as stiff as a Carmelite friar's, and as I had not the capacity to discharge, none of my ardor deserted me; 'twas surely on that account she adored me. Obliged to leave me, Madeleine gave me some cakes as a present, and I ate them in Babiche's company.

  "Cupidonnet," said my downy-cunted sister one evening, "that dear little prick of yours is always hard when you lick me. It seems to me that were we to get together in the same bed, you'd be able to insert it into that little muff of mine which you so like to suck and whose fur is so soft. I'm certain that would give me all sorts of pleasure, and you too; come visit me tonight."

  When everyone in the house had retired, I slid into my elder sister's bed. "Once," said she, "I saw Father, just after he'd done caress
ing our sister Marie," – Marie was the lovely one who had left for Paris–"run straight to Mother, his stick as long and tough as a rake-handle, and pop it straight into her fur – I'll show you how he went about it, you'll do the same thing he did." "I also saw him do it." "Did you really? So much the better." She arranged herself, situated me atop her, told me to thrust and then to retire and thrust again, but she was a maid, and although I was in strong martial form, I was unable to introduce the weapon, and succeeded only in hurting myself. As for Madeleine Linguet, I dare say she discharged, for she began to pant and came near to swooning away.

  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-Honoré 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-in-law 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.

  'Twas for that reason I was found out. Marie savored the final oscillations of my militant prick, but, as soon as she had experienced the charming sensation of a copious discharge, she ridded her cunt of its visitor by pushing me aside. Then she drew apart the alcove's curtains and regarded me. "What! Ye gods! it's ... it's Cupidonnet ... he's pumped himself empty ... poor boy, he's fainted!" I waked from my swoon and she scolded me, demanding to know who'd taught me to behave that way.

  "Your beauty," I replied, calling her my adorable sister.

  "But you're so young!"

  With that I recounted my entire history to her, told her how I'd fondled and licked Genovefette's cuntlet, how I'd mounted and subsequently fucked Madeleine's silken-haired cunt, next fucked Madame Linguet thinking all the while she was Madame Bourgelat. I told her how Mammelasse had got herself stuffed by me, how, unable to do without cunts, I'd explored Babiche's diminutive one with my tongue, and how I had got with child the three women I had properly fucked.

  "Good heavens! You are certainly indiscreet!"

  "With you, yes, because you are my elder sister, and because I've fucked you as well."

  The tale I'd just brought spilling out, Marie's dazzling bubs, the shoes she'd donned, everything conspired to stiffen me afresh. "Divine Marie," quoth I, "'tis not yet over. Methinks I'm going to fuck you again."