11
By the second month she discovered that what she dreaded had happened. Her son had got her with child; she wept when she communicated this unfortunate result, but the Count, like me, always stood fiercely at a woman’s tears. Several splendid fucks followed, all in the cunt—the mischief was done, and precautions were no longer necessary.
His mother abandoned herself to him with a greater excess of lust than she had ever yet done, and fucked with an excellence, vigour, and energy that drew from him eight discharges in a wonderfully short time. The fact of his having put a baby into her appeared to stimulate both their passions. She declared she never in her life had enjoyed fucking more. They used the grossest bawdy terms in their intercourse, as if it was one barrier more broken down between them, and made their incestuous love more exciting and a greater destruction of all natural ties between them.
Before parting they consulted about how best to fix the parentage on her husband.
He was a man of fifty-five, and, therefore, past the ardour of passion—taking even his fucking coolly—and, therefore, more difficult to hoodwink.
She knew that he awoke with a cockstand, although that did not always lead to a fuck. Upon this they founded their hopes, and at last arranged she should drug his coffee, and when still asleep in the morning she should handle his prick, get him up, turn her bum, put it into her cunt, work him gently, make him spend which would awake him, hold him in, pretend she herself was in the acme of delight, but on coming to her senses, upbraid him with having spent inside.
This all happened as planned, he did awake on spending, but his wife exerted such unusually delicious pressures upon his delighted prick, that he got so excited as to fuck her and she took care he should spend inside a second time—she pretended to be carried away by passion as much as he was. But remonstrating afterwards upon the imprudence of what he had done, especially in having so excited her that she could not help spending at the instant he did, which made it more dangerous. She did not know how it was but she had never before seemed to receive such pleasure from him as he had given her that morning.
“Well, my darling, it is a curious coincidence, but you never seemed to me more delicious or more lasciviously excellent in your fucking than you did just now. As it is but once let us take more care in future, and hope nothing will come of this little and delightful imprudence.”
But of course there did, as the Count related to us, and seven months after this morning fucking my mother gave birth to a daughter. “I had already been in exile for five months when this event came off, I had letters from my mother after she got about and for some years afterwards, telling me that my sister was a beautiful child, and growing up the image of her father, underlining those words for me, to put the true construction on them. Poor darling mamma, she died four years ago, and my father followed her two years later. I never saw either of them again.
“Before I escaped from Italy I had passed five months in the constant possession of my beloved mother. As her pregnancy advanced her salacious avidity for my embraces seemed to increase. She was insatiable, but with such variety of charm and art that I never failed to answer to her call. Every refinement and excess of the wildest and grossest lust was practised by us.
“My father possessed a small collection of the grossest bawdy books; my adored and salacious mother purloined from time to time the lewdest, we read and excited ourselves in the realisation of the wildest and grossest scenes therein depicted.
“My mother was an instance of a woman getting once out of bounds and then stopping short of no excess, and became boundlessly corrupt. There was no horror we two could possibly commit that we did not indulge in.
“My father, when once the pregnancy was undoubted, was less reticent of his fucks. My mother at my request used to stimulate him to fuck her just before coming up to me, so that I used to shove my prick into the paternal sperm, sometimes in her cunt, and sometimes in her arse, and eventually used to lick it up before fucking her either way. The incest of her son upon the immediate fuck of her husband was, she said, the most stimulating to her excessive lust of anything I could possibly do.
“My father was obliged to go to Turin for ten days; it was the time of new moon, when nights were dark. My mother used to put on a dark cloak and come up to me; we lay down on her cloak, and, stark naked, gave ourselves up to the wildest lust until dawn, when mother slipt away to the house and left me well inclined to sleep until she returned with my food.
“Oh! it was a happy time, its combinations of solitude and incest, combined with my lusty youth, for I was only nineteen years old at that time, made me be constantly at her call, and she never went away before her excessive lust had been satisfied for the moment. Had circumstances permitted her to stay with me longer than she usually did, she would have got more frequent fucks out of me; at night, when she could come, she got ten and sometimes eleven discharges from me, and probably herself spent twice as often. I was indefatigable.
“In all her after-letters to me she constantly avowed grief that she had lost her most loved son; that she was inconsolable, punning on the con in the word, which is French for ‘cunt.’
“Various allusions of that sort were in all her loving letters. Often and often when I have been slack in fucking a woman, and my prick not answering when called on, I had only to conjure up some of these scenes with my mother when my cock would spring to the stand instantly, to the immense satisfaction of my momentary fouteuse, and it is so yet, a thought of her reanimates it at once.”
Here my adored wife slipped her hand under his dressing-gown, and found his prick standing fiercely, she seized it, and pretending to be his mother, cried out—
“Come, oh, come! my beloved Ferdinand, into your own loving mother’s arms.”
She fell back on the couch, he got between her legs, kneeling on the floor, having thrown off his robe, exhibiting his fine hairy arse—one of those I so dearly loved. The sight fired my salacious prick, so kneeling behind, I guided it into his arsehole, and while he fucked my adored wife, I sodomised his superb arse. We ran two delicious courses, then my wife took me in her cunt, while the Count buggered his supposed mother, for that stimulating idea was kept up. A second fuck followed in the same pose, with both her apertures filled to satiety.
This concluded that delicious orgy; we had a half night’s rest the following night, as usual, to recruit, that we might better enjoy a perfect excess on the subsequent night.
It was in this way we kept up our powers, and only near the end of our visit had we any occasion to apply the birch, and that to no great excess.
It was in the middle of the second night that the Count continued his recital of the result of the intrigue with his mother. His sister-child, for she was both, was born in his first year’s exile. Beyond his mother’s description of her, that she was growing up a beautiful girl, the image of her father, meaning her son, the Count, he had no other intelligence of her. She had just turned eleven when her mother died; for two years after that sad event she kept house for her father.
He then dying, the second brother took possession of the property. As the state had deprived him of all civil rights, the property was given up to the brother. On his return, after being amnestied, the Count had to go to law with his brother to get back his property. His sister-daughter, who had been unhappy with her brother’s wife, gladly left them to keep house with the Count. She was then in her seventeenth year, splendidly developed in bosom and bottom, lovely and lustful deep-brown eyes, the very image of her father, although she only knew him as her brother. The recollection of the fierce joys he had had with his own and her mother, drove him wild with lust to possess the incestuous fruit of his intrigue with his own mother. He used of an evening after dinner to have her sit on his knee while he related his adventures abroad, intermingled with kissing and toying. He praised her splendid bubbies and felt them; he said he could not believe that her immense prominence behind was real unless he felt the bare skin. With little resistance this was permitted once, then indulged in, until from less to more he got to feeling and frigging her cunt, while he put his own standing prick into her caressing hand. There could be but one end of this. He took her maidenhead, and then she crept into his bed every night. He initiated her into every excess of venery, and ended by getting her with child. It was concealed as long as possible, and then, on pretence of a visit to a friend at Turin, to see some fetes, he conducted her to an accoucheuse, and left her there until her parturition was over.
I may here mention that just five weeks after that event came off we met them at Turin, on our way home from Venice. She was a beautiful girl. The Count introduced us as old friends, with whom everything could be done in common.
We stopped a fortnight, and initiated her into all the mysteries and extravagancies of the wildest lust, and she proved apt a scholar that she almost equalled in action and enjoyment the greater experience of my beloved wife.
The Count had taken apartments at Turin for the winter, and finding his sister-daughter so facile a pupil he intended getting up a partie carrée to continue these delightful orgies. His child was a lovely fruit of double incest, and gave promise of being a lovely woman. Her mount was charmingly plump, and the pouting lips of her delicious little cunt were already lust-exciting. The Count hoped he would be able to fuck her when old enough and promised me a participation when the time came.
I may here add he had her always to bed with him, and his sister-mother every morning, and in the bath with him.
She grew up admirably developed. From between seven and eight years old he gamahuched her delighted cunt; at eight began rubbing his prick on her clitoris, and by nine had gradually stretched it that he could enter nearly his whole length, and spend there.
We long knew each other, and he always said he was practising the lesson my adored wife Florence had instructed him in, when relating to us the incidents of her earlier days, and of her gradual violation by her own father.
I shall defer this story that I may at once describe the after-fate of this beautiful child, whom I and my wife have since often enjoyed between us, when she was entrusted to us by her father.
After a visit to us in England he left her to perfect her English for six months with us. We certainly perfected her erotic education while she perfected herself in English by her own ready talent for language, for although only in her sixteenth year, she spoke five languages perfectly, besides all the local dialects of Italy, which differ greatly from each other. Her stay with us was much prolonged, for at the time she was about to leave us she proved to be with child by me. In due course of time she was safely delivered of a daughter.
Her father, who came over to take her home after the advent, ceded the dear little object of my connection with her mother to my wife’s prayers.
We had no children of our own, and she would adopt her. The Count, who in his heart was delighted at the proposition, left her with us. He afterwards had a son by this beautiful and charming daughter and granddaughter of his at one and the same time.
It is now long years ago, and that son legally adopted is now Count in succession after his father’s death.
We paid many visits during these years to each other, during which the Count related to us some of the episodes in his life, which I give in his own words—
“You ask me to relate my first experiences. My earliest initiation into the secret mysteries of love’s recess was rather a curious one, and one which ended very disagreeably for the fair nun who sought to teach me the gentle art of love.
“You must know that after Bonaparte’s first conquest of Northern Italy, when he had turned the Alps by the Savona depression, and by the battles of Montenotte and others in that neighbourhood, gained the interior plains and carried all before him, Piedmont was annexed, and after the then French fashion, all church property was seized. Monks and nuns were turned loose in the world, with a promise of small pensions which never were paid. A nun of a convent in our neighbourhood was one thus thrown on the world. To sustain life she opened a little school for boys and girls of tender age. The neighbouring gentry, willing to assist a worthy creature reduced to poverty by no fault of her own, sent their children to her for primary instruction; my mother had taken a great fancy to Sister Bridget, as she was called, and I was sent to her school. I had just entered into my twelfth year, but was a fine grown boy of my age, and I can remember that my prick when standing in the morning had already shown proofs of fair development, which gave promise of its future prominence I think I was the biggest boy in the school, all the others being two or three years my juniors. I was in perfect ignorance as to the relation between the different sexes. The nun seemed to have taken a fancy to me, she used to embrace me with her arms, and kiss me with very pouting lips, and I could feel that she seemed to suck in my breath. She made me stand very close to her in repeating my lessons, her arms or elbows, apparently by accident, were always pressed against the spot where my, at first insensible, prick lay hid. Without knowing how it came about, these sort of accidental pressures at last excited it to stand, which she, no doubt on the watch, was delighted to perceive. Seeing how she could now excite it to the point she wished to arrive at, she said aloud one day—‘Fernandino, you must stay to repeat that lesson after the school rises. You want a little extra instruction which I cannot give you while occupied with all the class.’ I thought this a kindness on her part, but her object was very different. When all had gone and we were left alone, she desired me to come nearer, the elbow played its usual game, my cock stood, she pressed harder against it, then cried out, ‘Dear me! what is that hard thing in your trousers? let me see.’ She unbuttoned them, put in her soft hand, and drew out my prick. ‘How curious that is. Is it always so?’ ‘No, not always.’ ‘When how comes it so now?’ ‘I don’t know, but sometimes in moving to show me my lesson your elbow touches it, and it gets into that state.’ All this time she was handling my prick in the gentlest and most exciting manner, indeed she very quickly produced the spasmodic joys of heaven thus brought down to mortal man, of course with only the nervous result. This was all that was attempted the first time, when she told me to button up, saying that it was a very bad thing to encourage that habit, and I must be prudent and not let others know of its being improperly hard and stiff.
“This sort of thing continued for a day or two. Finding I had said nothing about it to anyone, she proceeded to effect her grand object. I was kept in as before. She excited me as usual, and soon had it out stiff-standing. ‘Now,’ said she, ‘I will initiate you into love’s mysteries. I see you are discreet and can be trusted; lie down on your back on this school form.’ I did so. She lifted my shirt, my trousers were already down on my legs, she felt the shaft and appendages, then kneeling by my side she sucked it deliciously until it felt as if it would burst. She then rose and straddled over the low form and my body, pulled her petticoats up to her navel, and to my great surprise showed an immense thick mass of hair, covering the whole of her lower belly. Guiding my prick to the entrance of her cunt, she gradually engulphed the little object by letting her body descend upon it. I felt a certain smarting of pain in her first movements, and my prick partially softened, but quickly regained all its stiffness by the pleasure she gave me by her up and down movements on it. I went off as before in a paroxysm of choking delight; she, too, spent, for I was conscious of a stream of warm liquid flowing on my cock. She tightly held me where I was, and by cunt pressures quickly brought it up to full stiffness again, and a second delightful paroxysm followed.
