10
My beloved wife, with that kindly consideration for everyone which distinguished her, quite abandoned Carl to these two dear insatiable cunts, and contented herself with presiding over our orgies, dictating new and exciting poses to our two friends, leaving Carl and me to their embraces, and consoling herself with a fuck now and then from Harry Dale, when we two were simply fucking each his dame. She told them, “I can have Carl and Charlie whenever I like at home, so must leave them to you for the three months that Carl can only give us.”
We met thrice a week. My wife used to drive to the dear creatures and take them up, the husbands being much gratified at the affection shown by my wife to them, and never having the slightest suspicion of the object my wife had in taking them out. As to our own servants they knew the chambers belonged to their master, and they knew we lunched there, but they never imagined their mistress would take ladies to share in their master’s embraces. So that we carried on our intrigue in perfect safety and impunity.
It was a sad day when we left with Carl, who never again returned to England. Our darling companions had become much attached to him, and parted with close embraces, and with bitter tears bade him adieu.
We parted from him at Frankfort, where his father, retiring to a country life, left him proprietor of a capital hotel, to which in after-years we often resorted when going to and from the German spas, and always stayed some days to renew the orgies we all so loved. His love for my adored wife’s cunt endured for ten or twelve years, when an advantageous marriage softened it, perhaps more through the jealousy of his wife who, suspecting, caused us to desist from using his hotel. He had also got a family of a boy and two girls growing up, which completely ended our acquaintance.
To return to the time of our conducting him to Frankfort with the Grandvits, they afterwards accompanied us in a tour in Switzerland, but left us at Sion, when we turned our steps across the Simplon to Italy.
We were invited by our friend the Count to visit him for a month at his old castle in the hills of San Giovanni, overlooking all the ground of Bonaparte’s earlier battles in his first Italian campaign.
We followed the right bank of Lake Maggiore to Arona and Allessandria, and thence by Acqui gained the castle of the Count on the hill above. It was situated in the midst of glorious scenery. From the summit of a hill near the glorious line of the Alps could be seen Monte Rosa, Mont Blanc, Mont Cenis, Monte Giovi, and thence round the Apennines, while the Gap leading to Savona gave a view of the sea, the southern suburb of Genoa, and the line of coast leading to Spezia.
It was a glorious view, and we often directed our steps to the summit from whence it was seen during our month’s stay with our loved and delightful host.
His old castle was only partially ruinous, but quite habitable. However, his father had built a comfortable house in the garden, at the base of the rock.
The castle crowned a perfect perpendicular detached mass of rock, half round which rushed a mountain torrent, the approach being a very steep zigzag with now ruinous defences, a very steep and difficult ascent. It is true from a low entranced cave at the foot a secret stair led up from the garden, of which I shall have more to say in relating some incidents of the Count’s earlier history, as confessed to us in our close and intimate intercourse.
We were warmly welcomed by our dear friend, who, leading us to our rooms, had a rack-off of his waste steam in the ever delicious cunt of my loved wife, who, it will be recollected, had a great penchant for the Count, when she used to prefer him at our Percy Street orgies. When the Count retired, I plunged my excited prick into the balmy bath he had prepared for me in my wife’s cunt, fucking her fast and furiously the instant he retired, a change she loved above all things; this calmed us for the moment, and enabled our waiting for night.
We had expected to find a young sister of the Count with him but at our orgy at night he told us that since his return home he had had this sister, and that in fact at that moment she was staying with an accoucheuse at Turin, and he expected to hear of her delivery by every post. We congratulated him on finding so delicious a bit of incest to his hand on his return to his country.
“Ah!” said he, “it is much more delicious than you think.”
“Indeed, how is that?”
“She is my own daughter as well as sister.”
“What a delicious idea!” cried I, “what a cockstand, and what a fuck it must have been to you! But you must have had your own mother to bring about such a delicious result. Do let us hear all about it, my dear Count, it will excite us all to renewed efforts, as incest always does.”
This conversation occurred during a long pause we had made in our first night’s orgy when quietly seated after purification, restoring our powers with Champagne and some slight refreshments prepared by our host for the occasion. We had already had three hours of the most delicious fucking in every possible combination, being all, especially the Count, fresh and in excellent order for a thorough excess. So we all were glad of a respite, and listened to the exciting story of the Count’s delicious double incest. As we did not hear all at that sitting, I will finish an account of our doings, and then give a connected narrative or sketch of that strange intrigue, and some other of his earlier escapades, merely adding that his account of his affair with his mother set us all off in such an excitement of lust, followed by such an excess of fucking in bouts of double jouissance, in which not only my adored and most lascivious wife came in for her full share, but both the Count and myself enjoyed the double bliss in our turn. We carried on to such an excess that we were quite knocked up, and were so overpowered with sleep the next evening that by common consent we quietly went to bed, and deferred till morning any fresh deeds in the fields of love and lust.
We found this so refreshing to our powers of fucking that we regularly adopted the system of lying fallow the earlier portion of every other night.
We passed a most agreeable time with walks and rides through the lovely scenery, and explorations of the old castles.
The Count himself had two, but the one immediately above his house was by far the most interesting and was the original seat of his ancestors, wild robber barons of their day; and a black deed was reported in the traditions of the peasantry around.
The castle, although in a valley between the hills, stood on a high perpendicular isolated rock some hundred and fifty feet above its base; it was crowned with a very high building to make up for want of space at the foundation, and had besides a very lofty and bold round tower, rising high enough above the sides of the valley to serve as a lookout beyond them. The habitable part was reached from the main gate by a steep stair, at one of the landings was a trap door opening upon a profoundly deep shaft; tradition said that this was a trap for personal enemies, who, on pretence of reconciliation were invited to the castle; on passing over the trap it opened, and they were precipitated to the bottom. It was the common tradition of the peasantry that wheels with scythes attached chopped them to pieces at the bottom.
It is a curious fact, and one showing how tradition may preserve a truth where least expected. Our friend the Count for six months lay hidden in the secret recesses of this old castle at the time a price was set on his head for treason. This had led him to all sorts of explorations, in which he had discovered many hiding places.
Knowing of this tradition about the cutting up of bodies at the bottom of this deep shaft he got his two younger brothers to let him down by a long cord, and really found the remains of machinery and wheels with rusty blades attached.
After he had finally escaped, a more regular search was made, and it was discovered that a communication with the torrent on a former higher level had let the water pass underneath the castle, and turn a water wheel which cut up the bodies and made them float away by the outlet. Human skulls and bones were found, singularly verifying the truth of tradition.
At the time the Count was a fugitive hiding therein, the old apartments were used as a granary to store the rent in kind of his father’s tenantry. As there were suspicions of his having taken refuge here, the place had been two or three times ransacked by the police without their discovering him—thanks to the ingenious hiding places he had discovered. But for this very reason every precaution had to be taken, and no beds, bedding, or plates, knives, chairs, or tables were there; he slept on the corn, spread three feet thick on the floor, or sat on it when tired. His mother, with provisions under her petticoats, would saunter in the garden, and, when unobserved, slip into the low cavern and ascend by the secret stairs, and seated on the corn by his side, would wait until he had done, to take everything away, and leave not a trace of anyone being provisioned up there. These details are explanatory of what follows. The Count had been one of the Royal Guard for two years at Turin, and being a handsome young fellow, had as much fucking at command as he could wish for. When shut up for months in his asylum the passions that had been kept under by constant gratification began to torment him; from the loopholes of the castle he could see the peasant women working on the mountainside, and, in stooping, showing their legs even up to the bare skin, and this used to drive him mad with desire. He did not frig himself, but at night stole down to the garden, secured a large pumpkin or two, took them up to his retreat, cut small holes in their sides, and then thrust his stiff-standing prick into them, forcing the hole to the size of his prick, and then working the pumpkin with both hands till he spent deliciously; he used to get six or seven fucks in these artificial cunts, then throw away the finished one on the torrent side of the castle. This was so far a relief, but his lust grew fiercer every day, and on one occasion became uncontrollable.
His mother, who had married at fifteen, was now a fine ripe woman in her thirty-sixth year. One day, after setting down the things she had brought up, she lifted her outer gown that she might not show she had been sitting on corn; the Count was already seated much below her body on the low corn. His mother accidentally on this occasion drew up all her clothes, showing the whole of her fine arse, and in stooping backwards to seat herself all her fine hairy and gaping cunt was visible to his lower sight. This was too much for the Count, in a moment his prick sprang to the fiercest stand, he instantly unbuttoned his trousers; his mother finding she had brought her bare arse onto the corn, leant over on the side opposite to her son to tuck her petticoats under her arse, but the Count seized her round the waist with one arm, with his body pressed on her already bent body, forced her quite down on her side and was into her cunt up to the hilt, he thrust it up so fiercely as not only to make her shriek with surprise, but also with pain. She struggled to be free, but was held down with all the energy of his ferocious lust. Very few thrusts in and out were required to bring down the first rush of his sperm; this lubricated her cunt, his prick never yielded, but stood as stiff as ever, and with hardly an instant’s pause he recommenced a more delicious action than the previous one. His mother, however, was much distressed in mind at the first horror of the incest, but being a ripe woman of hot lubricity, could not feel a fine prick deliciously belabouring her cunt without having her lust excited in spite of herself. As all pain of the unprepared forcing of her cunt had passed away, and the plentiful rush of her son’s spunk lubricated all the passage, she soon could not control her passions, and seconded him with an art which left nothing to desire. His long deprivation fired him to unusual efforts, and he fucked her five times before he withdrew.
When she sat up she said, “Oh! Ferdinand, what have you done! How could you do so? Violate your own mother. It is dreadful.”
The poor Count, seeing her much distressed, burst into tears, threw his arms round her neck, and weeping told her he could not help it.
She patted his head, and said. “Poor fellow, poor fellow.”
On this he lifted his head to kiss her. She, too, wept, and they mingled tears and caresses together; this almost instantly restored his prick to its pristine stiffness. He bent his mother back on the corn, and although she resisted a little, and said it was too dreadful his wanting to commit such a sin again, she opened her legs when he got over her, and did not prevent his pulling up her petticoats.
He was into her this-time-well-moistened and really longing cunt, for her passions were now become lascivious.
Thrice more did he fuck her, each time more delicious than the others, and in all seconded by the most splendid action of his mother’s arse, and the most exciting pressures of the inner folds of her really delicious cunt.
At last she left him, but after so delightful a commencement every day saw a renewal of these delicious encounters.
His mother proved an adept in every resource of lust. Being a splendidly made woman, and salacious in the extreme, when once she had given way to her lubricity, she indulged in every whim of lust. She always, after a few days’ fucking, came very lightly dressed, with no stays or other encumbrances, so that they used to strip and fuck at ease in every way. The Count assured us that much as he had since enjoyed some of the finest women, never had one given greater pleasure than his delicious, lewd, and salacious mother, doubtless the fact of it being incest added to the usual gratification given by a ripe, well-made, luscious-cunted woman.
After the first week of their delicious encounters, his mother said to him, “My dear Ferdinand, we are very imprudent, you may get me with child if we do not adopt precautions. Your father does not wish to have any more children, and takes care not to get them.”
“How does he prevent it, my dear mamma?”
“Well dearest, he goes slowly to work, and while he has it in me rubs his finger on the point where you are now feeling (he was gently rubbing up her clitoris, a well-developed one) until he has made me enjoy it several times, and when he finds he is about to discharge he suddenly withdraws it, and pushes the head of it into my bottom and spends there. You must do the same, but you must not put all this long thick fellow in. Oh! come to my arms, my son, you have excited me until I must have it immediately.”
Upon which the Count mounted and fucked so deliciously that with arms and legs round his body and loins, devil a bit would she allow him to withdraw, but spent with him most ecstatically, and quickly called for more, so that it was not until the third time of his being about to spend, that throwing her fine legs high in the air, and bringing her arse with a heave well up, and taking his prick out with her hand, she guided it to the delicious smaller orifice, and as all was reeking with the previous discharge, slipped it in, not the head only, but the whole shaft. She cried out, “Not so far, not so far,” but as he began shoving in and out she quickly got excited, and wriggled her arse with all her accustomed skill, and spent deliciously again as he shot his spunk right up into her incestuous entrails.
He passed a hand between their bodies to press a finger on her clitoris, this made her cunt throb, which was felt by his prick, and quickly sent him up upon another delicious enjoyment of the tight recess of obscene lust, and a second most exquisite and luscious course was run, equally to his mother’s as to his satisfaction. Then he withdrew to relieve her body of the weight she had so long sustained, they mutually embraced their naked bodies, and sweetly conversed on the exquisite joys they had just participated in. His mother declared his father gave her nothing like the lascivious joys she received from his dear son. They toyed and kissed until, handling his prick with skill, she got two more delicious fucks, one in each receptacle, and parted for the day.
