Gustav Schlling

Memoirs of a Baron

BOOK ONE

1. THE READER GETS TO KNOW ME

I owe my life to a passionate embrace with which the Old Baron honored my mother.

The Old Baron was one of the richest noblemen in the country, and the last member of his branch. It did not matter to him that he could barely count the number of his forebears; despite the fact that he was the last one, he had no desire to get himself married and increase the length of his long line of nobility. Once in a while he would pick out a young girl from among his subjects whose charms attracted him as the loveliest he had ever seen at that particular time. He would have her properly trained by a governess and dress her up in fineries with the help of a tailor and a seamstress of impeccable taste. Thereupon he would love the girl for as long as it took him to find another one he liked more.

But he never expelled the sweethearts he had grown weary of without any further ado. He handed every one of them a dowry in direct proportion to the measure of delight which he had found with her. Many a surgeon, schoolmaster or tax collector in the area was rather well-to-do, only because he had married one of the Old Baron's little wards. (This is how he himself referred to his dethroned amours.)

To be sure, the old parish priest sulked occasionally about such misconduct, and he never wanted to hear the confession of one of those transformed peasant beauties, or admit her to the baptismal font to be a godmother; however, the pastor was much more sensible in these matters and wangled it so that somehow the blame was heaped upon the conscience of his most gracious patron. And the Baron considered the poor parish priest much too old to be punished for his stubborn orthodoxy.

And it came to pass that the Old Baron visited a certain town and beheld the daughter of a barber and saw that she was beautiful. He immediately dispatched his chamberlain, and that Mercury never returned from such a mission without having accomplished his purpose. He did not fail that time either. If that fellow had been at the court of a sovereign prince, his skillful and cunning manners would have swung him upwards all the way to prime minister.

The shy barber's daughter visited the Old Baron when dusk began to fall and returned home several hours later, well laden with many presents.

When ten weeks had gone by, the Baron received a letter from the poor girl in which she described, to the best of her ability, her fear of the severity of her hot-tempered father, especially now that she was afraid he was about to discover a slight change in her condition.

The Baron sent for the old man and sugared the pill with gilding. The man fumed and raged, then quieted down quickly when the Baron promised a two thousand Taler dowry for his daughter plus upbringing and education of the child.

So much for my father and my mother.

2. A LEAP, WITHOUT RISKING MY NECK

The Old Baron remained true to his word. I received an education in the city as he could only have afforded his own son, and none of my teachers and instructors who brought him good reports about me returned without gifts.

My mother died when I was ten years old. The Old Baron had taken a great liking for me, and adopted me with princely approval as his own son.

I was seventeen years old when this happened and it appears to me that my readers have now taken a considerable leap without having endangered the softest member in the least.

3. A LITTLE WORD FROM MYSELF

It is said that most children who owe their existence to an incidental embrace at which first sight made the passions flare up to a greater degree have quicker blood, more tender and sensitive nerves, that they are more receptive to all impressions and I don't know what else. Supposedly, they are more and have more than those children of an embrace to which the man goes with carefully measured step and at an appointed time, like the old Tristram Shandy who needed Saturday nights when he would draw up the wall clock to remind him with one thing or another about one thing or another.

But however this may be, I must admit that I did get a goodly portion of passion as could be expected from the manner in which I was conceived. At a very early age I was aware of a fire in my veins and a restlessness in my breast which caused me many an uncomfortable hour. I liked to gaze into the eyes of some young girl, preferred it even more to take her hands in mine, and loved it, whenever I had a chance, to kiss her upon the cheeks-or better yet-upon the mouth. I would never pass up such an opportunity. The quickening of my heartbeat, the tightening in my chest, the swelling of all my muscles, and the vibrations that coursed through my body, these were all experiences much too pleasant for me to neglect even the smallest opportunity which could bring about any one of these feelings.

I had no supervisors and no bad-tempered tutors; with my good looks, my cheerful, careless, coaxing and charming disposition, how could I help but not find frequent opportunities?

4. THAT I WILL HAVE TO REMEMBER

I was seventeen years old when my father officially adopted me. It was a big celebration which lasted for a week. Many friends from the neighboring nobility were present, and it did not matter how much they resented-anywhere else, or in the privacy of their own homes-that my father's mistress had her place at the table as if she were his lawful wife, they were not about to decline the invitation since nowhere else in the area was the table so well laden, were the wines as delicious and was the music as beautiful as at the mansion of the Old Baron.

I had spent a very pleasant day, jesting with the young ladies and earning more than a dozen little kisses. I also had drunk a glass or two more of wine than usual. Was it any surprise then that my blood was unusually feverish when I had reached my bedroom and that, after hours of tossing and turning, sleep still evaded me?

My sleeping quarters were next to those of my father and separated from them by a thin wall only. I could hear my father talking:

“Lilla, you sure are taking your time.”

I must tell my readers that the Baron had a habit of giving his sweethearts a name which he considered fitting for them. The one he had at that time was called Lilla.

I arose from my bed upon hearing my father's voice so clearly and I suddenly noticed, because of a ray of light on the floor of my bedroom, that the door had been left slightly ajar. I sneaked a little bit closer and could just see my father's bed through the opening, and slightly more to the left I had a very good view of a large mirror on each side of which was a wall bracket with a large, burning wax candle. I was filled with fear and foreboding; my legs crumbled under me. I fell down upon my knees and remained in front of the door opening as if nailed to the floor.

Lilla entered and walked toward the door, wearing a simple white gown. She unpinned her hair which fell in long black waves down upon her shoulders.

“I had to undress first,” she said.

The Baron, who wore a nightgown, walked up to her and, putting an arm around her neck, kissed her.

The Baron: “And get as carefully dressed again, as if you were going to the dance and not to sleep.”

Lilla: “Don't you expect that from your Lilla?”

The Baron: “That is only so I can undress you.”

And while he said this, he pulled her scarf and the pins had done their duty. The dress fell down upon the floor and Lilla stood there, barely covered by a little chemise.

It took away my breath.

Lilla turned her back toward me, threw both arms around his neck and languidly rested against his shoulders. Their mutual kisses and deep breathing made me stiffen.

Lilla let her arms drop, her chemise fell off, and I lost all consciousness.

When I came to my senses again, I saw…

My readers must believe that I had been truly unconscious, for how long I cannot tell.

As I said, when I had regained my senses, I saw my father resting upon his bed. His right hand was very busy. I was curious, pushed against the door, and to my great satisfaction it quietly opened.

I saw…

Lilla lying upon her back, both thighs lifted, and my father's hand playing around with a certain part.

He raised himself, covered Lilla, and I saw nothing but the rising and falling of his behind and Lilla's white leg over his left hip.

What is that?

Their breathing became louder. I hearkened. A soft moaning followed, it became stronger and disappeared with a loud, “Aah!..”

What is that?

The Baron now reclined again on his own side of the bed. Lilla kissed him and pulled the cover over both of them.

It can easily be guessed that my overheated imagination did not allow me too much rest.

I will have to remember that, I told myself every time I switched position from one side to the other while I still hoped in vain to get some sleep.

5. ONE STEP FURTHER

Thus far I had had access to various and sundry company and therefore I had not very often visited the gatherings of my school companions. This is why I had only very vague notions about the differences between the two sexes.

But now my imagination painted many pictures and I felt a burning desire for closer investigation to enlighten myself as to what exactly made the difference.

I returned to the city. I boarded with a young merchant who had married a very pleasant person about a year ago. A girl of about fourteen years of age served my young hostess and also took care of my small domestic affairs. Lieschen was going to be the one to clear up my doubts; the only question was, how was I going to explain this to her?

Lieschen was a little brunette, bright and lively and also extremely talkative, especially when she knew that her mistress was not around. And finally that long desired day arrived when Madame Reibhand was making a visit somewhere. Lieschen brought me my coffee. I took her by the hand and looked her straight in the face.

Lieschen: “Why are you looking at me that way?”

Me: “I care so much for you, Lieschen.”

Lieschen: “Well, I like that very much.”

Me: “Do you care for me a little bit, too?”

Lieschen: “And why not?”

“Me: “Don't you want to give me a little kiss?”

Lieschen: “Aha! No, not that!”

Me: “And why not?”

Lieschen: “Quiet, milord. The cook could hear us. You just wait. She is going to leave soon and then I will tell you something.”

Lieschen let herself readily be kissed and then she skipped away. I won that game, I thought, and dreamed wild fantasies about what I was going to do next.

I stretched out upon my bed. Lieschen entered, I pulled her next to me, threw my arm around her neck and one, two, three kisses which I pressed upon her pretty mouth under idle protestations made my lungs distend so much that I could barely breathe.

Lieschen: “What is wrong with you?”

Me: “Oh, Lieschen, I love you so much.”

Lieschen: “Me? And not Madame?”

Me: “But why Madame?”

Lieschen: “Oh, I just thought so because she likes you very much, and she always asks how you are doing. She never stops talking about you.”

Me: “Don't talk that way, Lieschen! Would you want to do something to please me?”

Lieschen: “I will be glad to.”

I let my hand slide under her skirt; she pushed me back.

Lieschen: “What do you think you are doing?”

Me: “I thought you wanted to do something to please me.”

Lieschen: “Well, yes… but… what do you want?”

She looked at me, lost all her color and seemed to guess my intentions. I repeated my first try and was again pushed away. But now desire overpowered me. I encircled the girl with my arms, stretched her under me upon the bed and furiously covered her with my kisses. The poor little girl gasped for breath, she wanted to say something but she could not. I succeeded in getting my hand under her skirt and, sliding over the round firm thighs, I searched for that spot which my father's hand had fondled on Lilla and here, too, I met with success. But when my fingers felt a soft fleece and went astray in a narrow slit, a certain violence overtook my entire body, something flowed out of my prick which I had not yet experienced, my eyes lost the power of perception, I drowned in a voluptuous vertigo and experienced an indescribable pleasure.

Lieschen had wound herself out of my embrace and looked at me.

Lieschen: “What is wrong with you?”

Me: “Lieschen, what indescribable pleasure!”

I firmly embraced her again.

Me: “Once more, Lieschen, let me once more touch the most beautiful spot of your beautiful body, please, once more.”

I pleaded so endearingly and with so many kisses that Lieschen visibly weakened and allowed my hand its free play. The little slit had become moist, my finger explored and found an orifice; it penetrated and Lieschen's breathing became short. She threw both arms around me, pressed me close against her, closed her eyes, and her breath escaped her mouth in little gasps. A warm moisture covered my hand.

“Now, Lieschen?”

She wriggled out of my arms and fled away.

6. THAT WAS ONE STEP

From then on I begged Lieschen continually to take me up to her room because she did not dare to come to me out of fear that Madame, who slept in the adjoining room, might call her. But I was never successful. “What I allow you to do is more than enough,” She said. Indeed it was an exceptional pleasure that my hand enjoyed at every liberty; except I had seen Lilla nude at my father's side and in a quite particular position at that.

Mister Reibhand was at the market. It was eleven o'clock, and I had been in bed for an hour, when somebody opened the door, walked up to my bed and motioned me to come along. It was Lieschen. I jumped out of my bed and followed her in a hurry.

“Come along,” she said to me, “and see for yourself if my mistress is more beautiful than Lilla about whom you have told me.”

We came to her bedroom. She led me to a door which had a small hole in it that definitely was supposed to serve another purpose than spying upon Madame.

Madame sat in her room, leaning backwards in an easy chair. She had her thighs spread apart, her feet rested upon two stools and she was playing with her love grotto. Finally she entered it with one finger, rubbed slowly back and forth, then quickened and soon she moved so fast, her behind continually going up and down, that it became more of a quivering than a back-and-forth motion. Fire burned throughout me and I was hot all over.

Lieschen was listening at the keyhole. I grabbed for her and she, too, was more hot than warm. My exploring hand found her finger in her little love temple.

Lieschen's bed was only two steps away; the night was clear enough to prevent stumbling; I embraced her, carried her to the bed, pushed her thighs apart and laid myself down between them. No resistance. I took off my shirt, pressed my girl close to my chest, trying to hit Lieschen's grotto with my prick, and I was now too low, then too high and always wrong. The touching and moving drove me out of my senses. I panted, puffed and worked and the old boards of Lieschen's bed, not used to such a trembling, collapsed and we fell through. But nothing could deter me and bring me back to my senses. I was laboring hard when suddenly Madame, who had heard the noise, entered the room, dressed in her nightgown and a lamp in her hand. The sudden shining light scared me and I fled away, but in my excitement I missed the door, jumped through the living room into Madame's bedroom and lost my bearing in the darkness. I tapped along the wall and could not find my way out.

After Madame had read the riot act to a half-dead Lieschen and wished her a palpable good-night, I heard her close the door. She came out of her bedroom into the living room and locked that door, too.

There I stood, poor sinner, as naked as the day I was born, all my fibers tensed (because no amount of fright would have been capable of robbing them of their vigor) and I could have disappeared through the floor with shame.

Madame looked me over carefully.

“Well, my dear sir, verily, I like that! And in that attire. I would never have had the pleasure if your confusion had not made you miss that door.”

I was incapable of uttering a sound.

“Well, you could catch a cold. I will excuse you because you please me greatly in this get-up, but under the condition that I will never apprehend you doing that again. Follow me.”

She led me to the door, opened it and I hurried through. I realized when I heard her lock it behind me and laugh out loud that we were together again, in another room.

I was, and remained, dumfounded.

Madame put the light down, walked up close to me, laid her hand upon my shoulder and said:

“Young man! There has to be a punishment. I hope that, when it is over, you will have no reason to complain about my severity.”

She took hold of me and led me to the bed and invited me to lie down. I hesitated and she laid me down herself, dropped her nightgown and stretched out next to me.

I just lay there without moving a muscle.

“Can't you find anything on me,” she finally said, putting my hand upon her heaving bosom, “that is as beautiful as on Lieschen?”

The softness of her bosom cheered me up.

Oh, at the time I did not realize the value of a beautiful bosom. I sat up and haltingly kissed her, which was returned in double measure and stimulated my desire to the utmost.

“Beautiful lady,” I finally blurted, “I am beside myself. Please, have pity upon me.”

“You are glowing.”

She pulled me closer, exposed herself, spread her thighs apart, and led my hand across curled hairs to the prettiest temple of delight. I went completely berserk, threw myself upon her and pushed my rod constantly in a wrong spot. Poor me, I did not know how to behave myself.

“Don't be so eager, my darling,” said my beauty. “Save your strength. Have patience, slow down a little…”

I did not listen any longer.

Finally her beautiful hand succeeded in grabbing my staff. I grunted, she lifted herself slightly and happily succeeded in leading it into her grotto of bliss.

But I had barely entered it when I lost all feeling in the other parts of my body; it seemed to concentrate into my prick only. He flowed and I rested in her arms, completely stupefied by the pleasures of the flesh. She played around with my hair, kissed me and revived me with her dallying.

“Well, my young Baron.”

I hid my face in her bosom and was too ashamed to look up to her.

“I would almost believe, my dear boy, that I am the one who has robbed you of your virginity; why are you hiding your face?”

She lay there, resting upon her left arm, and had a good view of my entire body.

My little prick had come to life again and stood erect. She took it in her hand-lightning shot through my entire being-and smiled. When she pressed herself against me, bending over and kissing me, she said:

“Beautiful boy, you are full of fire, but shy and ashamed and dumb. Be bold and believe me… flirting and necking sweeten the pleasures of love.”

Oh, poor innocent boy!

Meanwhile the encouragement had caused me to start moving my hands again. I caressed her soft skin, squeezed her round and firm behind and searched for and reached the soft fleece of her wellspring of love.

She pressed me close to her and the busier my fingers were, the hotter became her kisses and the more swollen every muscle in my body.

She reclined, her bosom rose enormously and she looked at me greedily.

“Now, don't be so hasty, my dear,” she said. “A little bit slower and please, don't leave me halfway behind on the road to fulfillment.”

How could she expect that I knew what she was talking about?

She spread her thighs, I mounted between them; she pulled up her left leg to support herself, took my little prick and led it into the grotto (I shuddered) and threw her right leg over my hips.

This is about how I saw Lilla, I thought.

“Slowly, my love!

“Stop! Kiss me: one, two, three!

“Now again!

“No so qui…”

She started to pant, swallowed, her lips quivered, her breath halted, her eyes grew dim-she clamped herself onto me and reciprocated every push with such a vigor that at times I was suspended in the air.

“Hurry, now…. qui — cker… aaah… aaah… ooh!..”

My little staff was thoroughly drenched and my beauty closed her eyes, no longer moving; then, suddenly, I unloaded with powerful shocks and in great quantity.

Weak and spent, I rested in her arms.

7. CONTAINS MANY REFLECTIONS

I would have to be very wrong, or rather my experiences would deceive me, if my assumption that many of my readers are jealous of me were incorrect.

How many young men, despite their enormous desire, have no chance to sacrifice their chastity upon the altar of love? How many do not have the courage so that they destroy the most beautiful powers of their youth with their own hand and consume themselves in their own passion?

I was helped and encouraged by good luck. It is possible that Madame might not have been so good to me if she had not caught me in the act and if I had not fled into the wrong room. I did not do it on purpose, my desires had blinded me too much. Maybe it was not her purpose either to allow me entrance into her sanctuary if she had not seen my obstinately erect prick which tempered her fury and awakened her desire. A favorable moment and good luck afford more victories than exacting toil and trouble. I have frequently experienced this and will not fail to report it to my readers.

I happen to have this disposition, and if I had not had this opportunity, I most likely would, like thousands of youngsters, squirt courage and power through my fingers, weaken body and soul, and turn into a sluggish, discontented, bad-tempered creature which is more like a eunuch than a man; the type one encounters so frequently. Instead, now that I have reached the age of sixty, I am still strong and vigorous. I can briskly walk for three hours, ride horseback all day, enjoy living, eat and drink heartily and sleep calmly throughout the night.

It is far from me to justify everything which I am about to tell my readers; how could this make sense when I am talking about a passionate young man. He follows too often the dictates of his passion and he runs out of the groove.

It should be quite obvious that I demand for a man and a woman something entirely different than that which has been prescribed by our moral systems.

8. WE CONCLUDE A PACT

When Liesehen brought me my coffee the next morning, she was crying.

“What is the matter, Lieschen?”

“You dare ask me? I am woebegone. Madame wants to throw me out of her house and I have lost all respect.”

“Poor little girl!”

I took her in my arms and kissed her without meeting any resistance. I went with my hand under her skirt and she did not prevent it. The little entrance of her love grotto, framed by soft fleece, was quite different than the one that belonged to Madame.

“Lieschen, come… to my bed…”

She followed me without resistance; Madame was still asleep. I put her down upon her back, uncovered her and she hid her shame-ridden face in her hands and crossed her thighs.

“No! I will not let you see it!”

Quickly my trousers fell down around my knees, I laid myself down upon Lieschen, kissed her, opened up her thighs with my hand and searched for her little cleft with my prick. I knocked against the gate of her grotto, and knocked again and again and despite all my troubles I only succeeded in penetrating about one finger's width when the juices of life got away from me. She quivered and quaked in every fiber and her breath became weaker and weaker. She remained for a short while in my embrace. Then she got up and left my room quietly.

I was still pondering about what could be the reason that I had only been able to pay homage to Lieschen at the entrance of her grotto, when she came into my room again and announced that Madame would like to see me.

I became hot and cold; I kissed Lieschen hastily and quickly left to see Madame.

Madame sat there, dressed in a light cotton negligee. She blushed when I entered and I bowed stiffly and asked stutteringly how I could be service.

“Please, sit down next to me and drink a cup of chocolate with me.”

I obeyed.

Madame: “Could you keep a secret?”

Me: “Could you believe otherwise?”

Madame: “I would not like to think so! But… I want to have you all for myself and I will have to send Lieschen away; I have told her so.”

Me: “Would that be advisable? The poor girl is innocent.”

Madame: “Could you promise me, and would you keep that promise for sure, that you will not let yourself in with her again?”

Me: “Yes, for sure!”

Madame: “And so cool? Not even a little kiss to seal our pact?”

I embraced and hugged her, and kissed her upon her beautiful, full red mouth.

She pulled her chair closer and guided my hand toward her round firm globes of love. I pressed and caressed them and noticed that they gradually became warmer and started to move in wave-like motions under the influence of my hands. She kissed me often, looked straight into my eyes, played with my hair and bit me softly, now on my cheeks and then on my lips.

“You are not impetuous at all, my dear boy!”

I thought I understood her meaning; I lifted her light skirt, petted the white, round, firm thighs. She lifted them across mine and my hand landed where she intended it to be.

“That is rather unsatisfactory. Please come along.”

She was fiery. We laid ourselves down upon the bed and when she let me go, she was fully satisfied.

Whether I kept my promise as regards Lieschen, one will find out in the next chapter.

9. A MOST BEAUTIFUL VIEW

A neighboring nobleman gave a large party and I, too, had been invited as was now customary with the friends and acquaintances of my father ever since I carried his name.

There were many people and I had many an opportunity to relish the company of beautiful ladies and to win their acclaim with my cheerful disposition.

One evening, there was a ball and by lot I had a young officer's wife as dance partner. She was a vivacious, sparkling brunette with big black bold eyes. She liked me very much. “Do you waltz?” she asked me when the music stopped for a moment. “A waltz,” I called out loud and spun away with my dance partner like a top. That dance gave me quite a lot of pleasure, especially since my beautiful partner during the waltz managed to bring her face very close to mine and not infrequently she found a way to touch my lips with hers.

“You dance lightly and move well,” she said smilingly when we walked toward the window, “and when you learn those little interludes, you will become a marvelous partner.”

I believed that I had only caught half the meaning.

The next day, after the noon meal, my brunette took me aside and said:

“It is customary here to take a little afternoon nap, but we will take a small walk; meet me in the bower near the big pond.”

I was only partly aware of my great fortune.

Close to the castle was a large garden, full of hidden roads, dark passageways, grottoes and bowers and arbors. At the end of each side was a large circular pathway, bordered by latticework fences, and in its center was a fountain surrounded by roses.

I met my beauty near the bower along the pond. She was dressed in a light white gown. She took my arm and we walked toward the circular pathway on the left.

“Did you ever make love, young man?” she asked with a sly smile since she expected my embarrassment to be greater than it really was.

I could feel that I started to blush.

“Dear lady,” I retorted. “And if I had never made love, I would love to do it now.”

Thereupon I put my right arm around her slender waist and dared put a kiss upon her coral lips.

It went through me like lightning when I felt something penetrate between my lips during that kiss.

What on earth was that?

I was as yet unacquainted with the magic of a kiss and the voluptuous game of tongues.

We had come to the fountain. My beauty sat down upon the soft grass and pulled me next to her.

“You said you would love to do it now,” she told me, “and you sit there without any spirit next to a lady?”

I silently put my arm around her neck, kissed her, played around with the ribbons of her bodice and pulled one after the other and noticed a voluptuous longing when my hands sneaked toward the milk-white globes. My beauty reclined and seemed a little bored with my playing around.

I kissed her and she draped her arm around my neck, locked her mouth against mine, sucked on my lips and quivered her tongue along them. Quickly I learned to reciprocate and I liked this game very much indeed.

“My eyes are getting heavy,” she said finally. “I will sleep some and you keep watch.”

And really, she closed her eyes.

I was delighted to gaze down upon her white, rounded neck; my curiosity went further, slowly I uncovered her full bosom and gazed with voluptuous pleasure upon both milk-white hills, topped with the prettiest rosebuds; my lips were involuntarily drawn toward so much beauty; I kissed them and suddenly withdrew because I had become afraid that my goddess might wake up and scorn me.

But she slept on.

My eye wandered down and saw the most beautiful foot and the prettiest calf.

She was asleep anyway. I advanced closer, lifted the thin skirt above her knee-how well rounded! I lifted it higher-what an enchanting thigh!

Once a passionate young man sets out upon this path, he may want to stop after every step, but how could he do it? Just one more step, he says at every turn, and keeps on going.

I bent forward all the way and hoped to catch a glimpse of the temple of voluptuousness, but to no avail; she rested slightly upon one side and her thighs were crossed.

A deep sigh welled up out of her breast and she moved a little. It scared me and I hastened back to my own place.

She went on sleeping and to my utter delight her movement had given me the most beautiful view. She lay upon her back, and because she had pulled up one leg a little bit, her light skirt had drawn up high over her thighs and draped across her alabaster white body. Her thighs were nude and slightly spread apart. And there I saw, under a slight hill, the rosebush of love; even more, but I carefully opened the thighs and now I saw through the rosebush two pretty pink reddish lines and even if it had cost me my life, I could not have kept my hands in check. I fumbled around in the bush and touched these elastic pink lines which seemed to become more responsive with every one of my caresses.

A glowing passion took hold of me; my prick became unruly. I sighed deeply, and my beauty woke up.

“Oh, inexperienced cavalier,” she said smilingly, “how little you know about using a golden opportunity.”

I cast down my eyes, sat up on my knees and she quickly pulled me down upon herself.

I barely had the time to divest myself of my breeches.

She sucked and bit on my lips, her behind floated upwards and… I missed. She led the way with her own hand and I celebrated a triumphant entry.

My brunette had more experience than Frau Reibhand, possibly because she was a lady of quality. Her hands were continually busy; now she caressed my thighs, then she rubbed my back, now she squeezed my cheeks and then her tongue would quickly run across my lips.

“Aah! A little bit…” She raised her behind somewhat higher.

“To the… yes… aah!”

“Darling… one… kiss.”

“I… I… oh, precious…”

“Just… a …”

“Oh, how… deli-…”

“More…”

“Aah!”

Both our pleasures melted together.

I must admit that this pleasure surpassed everything I had hitherto enjoyed. Our mutual relief had been unusually strong. When I had recuperated from my fainting spell I sat up. My brunette stayed where she was. I gazed upon the shores of her lake of passion with sensual pleasure. It was covered with milk-white foam, I touched the slight swelling, the velvet body and kissed the adorable navel.

“Very good, my darling, you will learn how to please a lady; be more bold and daring and permit yourself to do whatever your imagination tells you.”

She took my staff in her pretty hand; it was so proud that it stood strong like a tree branch.

“Well, now! I must give you credit for having so much strength left after such an abundant overflow which put my entire being in a state of delicious quivers.”

“Precious lady, charms like yours would give life and strength to even the weakest body.”

“My dear boy, when flagging passion has taken hold of you, no charm can bring about strength. Be economical, do not overdo it at such a young age unless you want to throw away the pleasures of years to come. Darling, kiss me.”

Our tongues started to play, but soon that was too simple for me: I was looking for more.

“Spare yourself, darling; save it for tonight. I will expect you in my room. Don't wear anything else but your dressing gown.”

“I will obey; but now…”

And I had already taken possession of her throne, proving to my brunette that the first eruption had weakened me very little.

10. THE GENTLEMAN GOES WRONG, BUT HE IS REBUKED

We had agreed that I would visit my beautiful brunette during the night, and as soon as everything was quiet, I went on my way.

I opened the room and was surprised that my beauty did not have a light burning. Fully convinced that I was in the right room, I sneaked up to the bed and listened to the quiet breathing. My hand searched in the dark and came upon a bony chest with small, shriveled flap-like breasts. Somebody held my hand.

“Is that you, captain?”

I shot back to the door like an arrow and raced to my room.

Here, too, a woman gets hold of me; I believe myself to be in the wrong room, I want to tear myself loose when I recognize the voice of my brunette.

“Where were you?”

“Oh, precious lady!”

“Well, let us go to my room.”

We turned left, and I had gone, heaven knows how, to the right.

My goddess locked the door behind us.

“Where were you? You look like you were frightened.”

I told her about my adventure which made her laugh heartily.

“No, that would have been too ridiculous. Imagine that shriveled Lady von Exen taking away my pleasure. No, my dear lady, something as hard and stout as this is no longer for you.”

She took off my dressing gown.

“Oh, look at our little dandy… all the color gone out of his face. I would swear he is ashamed. Well, in that case, I will have to give the example.”

And in a short moment my little brunette stood there as if she was supposed to be the model for a nude goddess. She helped me out of my shirt and pressed me against her pillow-soft body.

“Ha, the little one, how unbending; well, we will see who is going to win the day.”

I was by no means idle, my hands had a lot to do; I squeezed, I caressed, I toyed and fumbled like a little baby. I played with the little curled hairs, rubbed them up and down, investigated the little cleft and discovered the small god who was going to be pitched against my own. This discovery made me greedy; I picked up my prey and carried her to the bed. My goddess was aglow, the lips of her cleft were swelling, and I threw myself upon her in a sort of frenzy. Penetration became difficult; she lifted both her thighs as high as my hips and now I pushed inside with indescribable feelings of utter delight; and a soft cooing from her convinced me of her great pleasure.

Now I became more impetuous; the moment of decision had come. I panted and gave to my beauty, with slow and strong strokes, a rather substantial amount of my life juices. Oh, she felt them. Her glazed eyes, her interrupted breathing, the quiver of her lips and the chattering of her teeth convinced me of that.

Too soon!

“Now for… please, don't give up. Oh, don't! Quicker!”

I gathered my remaining strength, doubled my strokes, and with every approach of my loved one's behind, my staff was bathed in hot moisture. It acquired new courage and strength, recuperated quickly, and it seemed as if the battle had only begun. The doubling and the quickening pace of my strokes, coupled with this renewed vigor, drove my beautiful one beside herself. Her thighs dropped from my hips, at times her breathing ceased, her panting bosom heaved, every sigh became cooing, her eyes closed altogether and a sweet, pleasing aroma welled up out of her body.

I was glowing. She had little life left; her otherwise so vivacious behind did not move at all. I lifted it with both hands and supported it with clenched fists. That seemed to make it an even smoother ride and after some laboring a second outflow caused my beauty to return to life-at least long enough to make her emit certain sounds and then I, too, sank lifeless to her side, my face buried in her ample bosom.

My brunette remained still for quite a while with her eyes closed, her breathing short and quick, and occasionally a quiver would run through her body accompanied by a shivering sigh.

Finally the aftermath started to wear off. She sat up and gazed down upon my body, touching it all over.

“My dear boy, for nothing in the world would I have wanted to forgo this most exquisite of all ecstasies. I have to tell you that I cannot remember when it ever came simultaneously with such a delicious loss of consciousness. And look at how the Little Boy is resting there, just waiting for a hint of encouragement and ready to take one up on it. Look… see, the slightest touch arouses him. Oh, pretty little cupid, whoever could guess that you were the giver of such copious joy? That you have the ability to shoot a secret flame through veins and nerves, quicker than lightning? Allow yourself to be kissed, pretty little one!”

As if with such sweet talk, accompanied by fiery kisses and the voluptuous rubbing of a velvety female hand, not every muscle would swell. And when our hands touch the most beautiful body, feel the swelling hills and our mouths suck their rosebuds, whose nerves would not start vibrating?

But I know of the opposite from young men, not older than twenty-four; however, those wretches allowed the quintessence of their life juices to run through their fingers.

“Hold on, lover; give us time to prepare properly for new pleasures; the savoring of sensuality loses its value without proper preparation.”

I rubbed her rounded hips, her firm fleshy buttocks, sucked her tongue and she sucked mine as if we wanted to imbibe each other's soul. My hand went across her marble-smooth body, down to the firm, round Mount of Venus, tousled and tugged at the curled silken hairs; my fingers opened the shells of love, searched and found many small protuberances inside which increased in size at the approach of their guests and welcomed them with an outflow of sticky moisture, and suddenly the lovely little inhabitant of the inner darkness pumped voluptuously toward them.

“Well, my darling? Your lips are burning, your eyes sparkle and your globes are trembling.”

“Is that true? Your eyes glow, and your breath is burning.”

“Your whole body has become aromatic, it seems as if your life's blood has come through the veins and colored your swan-white skin with a rosy hue of pink.

“Your loins are strong and firm, every vein is bursting and every muscle swollen with power.”

This is about how we prepared ourselves, our hands continuously playing around, firing our imagination and increasing our desire as much as possible.

My goddess now awaited me with her legs pulled up and her behind raised. I knelt between them, again gazed intently upon the pretty grotto and slowly stretched myself upon the velvet body, bringing my rod to its entrance…

“You're hesitating, increasing my longing, and that, too, is very pleasing.”

I encircled her waist with my arms and pressed her ivory hips together. The whole body of my goddess trembled, her tongue flicked out of her half-opened mouth and then I penetrated with one tremendous jolt. The obstacle of her swollen glands was too weak; my beauty emitted a loud, voluptuous and tremulous cooing and pressed my behind with both hands strongly toward herself as if she wanted to engulf that, too. Our preparations had made too strong an impression upon my passionate brunette and after four thrusts she was already gasping for air.

“Darling, please… quick-er… aah!”

I remained calm and collected, continued with slow, measured strokes and for the first time I underwent, with careful thinking, the pleasures and sensations of voluptuousness.

“Oooooh… you are torturing me.”

And truly, I noticed convulsions not only in her face but in all her fleshy parts; she squirmed strongly as if something were stuck in her throat; her eyes were half-closed, glazed and the corners filled with tears.

Suddenly she started to whine loudly, her behind became convulsive, every one of my thrusts met with three and four counter jolts, and finally a hot river burst forth out of its container and flooded hill and valley of passion as well as the entire sylvan glade of love.

“Oooooh! Aaaaah! I… can't a-ny… lon-ger…!”

A vision fit for the gods!

Here I was, pressing my half-unconscious beauty firmly against me, surrounded by the fragrance of passion, continuing with firm measured jolts. Her legs had lost their power to support her. I paused momentarily, pulled my hands from under her back, arranged her thighs over my hips so that her legs crossed and put my hands again under her behind. I continued my thrusting and played around with my fingers in the derriere cleft up in the area where the spine ends and which is called the sacrum, though I did not know its effect.

My beauty recuperated.

“Darling, passionate young man, you allow me to taste pleasures whose delights I have never felt before! Aah!”

She nibbled my tongue.

But this time I lost my careful nature; quicker and quicker and more impressive became my jolts; my prick started to swell tremendously and my breathing became shorter and shorter.

“Ooh, darling!”

Despite the strong outflow of my goddess, everything was dry inside those lips; the protuberances burned and when the most sensitive part of my nerves rubbed past them, I experienced pain.

“Oh, please, help me, darling…”

She pressed my hips with her thighs, sucked on my lips as if she were about to receive my slowly fading spirit.

To no avail. My wellspring seemed dried up, its pressure was painful.

My beauty rubbed my loins in vain.

She forgot her tongue-play and started to blink her eyes again. She pressed me against her, using all the power of her arms and legs. I lost sight, sound and feeling. The fountain of my goddess flowed again. I romped and panted. This time she was fully conscious, unlike the last time, and assisted me wherever she could. She raised herself up and opened wide so that my prick pierced her up to the hilt.

“Aah!”

Now the dams broke.

“You're choking me! Darling!”

The balm of passion erupted with indescribable force.

My beauty had barely felt the fire of this balsam for which she had longed so dearly when her lips started to quiver and a melodious cooing gurgled out of her throat. Her well-spring started to flow again and her body seemed to melt away at the same time.

“Aah!”

“Aah! Whoa!”

My jolts doubled.

“I am dying!”

Now the sacrifice had been offered. Closely embraced, mouth upon mouth, tongue against tongue, chest against bosom, we breathed our souls together and fell asleep.

The sun looked across yonder mountain into our window when I woke up.

My goddess of love was still quietly asleep.

Enraptured, I looked at the beautiful parts of this delicious body which had afforded me those indescribable delights.

I saw the wellspring of passion framed by a soft fleece and with a pink inner sanctum. So beautiful and pretty! I pressed it softly, bent my face toward the milky globes and kissed the delightful little bud, so beautiful that no painter could have painted one that was prettier.

My brunette opened her eyes with a deep sigh, encircled my neck with her arms and flooded my face with passionate kisses.

“My dear Baron, what a night this has been! Even if I were twice as old, I would still give voluntarily two years of my life for it. But, my dear, dear boy, be frugal. Don't pander to love every day, and only then if you are loved in return. My husband will be gone for another month and within a week I will be at my estate. For a week I will wait for you; do you want to visit me? Only, till that time be careful with yourself, and as far as I am concerned, I will reward you for your abstinence.”

And now!

She kisses my lips dry. She invites me to go. I am supposed to start my abstinence right away. I put my proud amour in her hand, suck on her rosebud lips and visit with my finger the little god in her grotto who receives me with joyful leaps.

“I cannot, my darling! You will be gone after dinner and according to the clock on the wall it's only four.”

“Oh, you lecher! I have just told you that you should spare yourself. Didn't I wear you out enough last night?”

I tore myself loose, pushed her thighs apart and looked with hungry eyes at her rosy cleft. It seemed to open up proudly under my gaze and await my arrival. My sweetheart smiled. I kissed her globes and they became warmer while I was kissing them.

“Why do you start a fire that you can't put out? Within a week…”

My kisses stopped her talk; I took possession of the throne and my amour penetrated into the temple. My sweetheart was teasing me. The more I tried to penetrate deeply, the farther she retreated, thus bringing me to the point of indescribable heat. Finally she surrendered and we parted, greatly satisfied with each other.

11. A LITTLE RELAXATION

If I am not too much mistaken, my readers now need a little relaxation; I must be a miserable storyteller if the blood did not pulsate just a little more and if a secret fire had not gotten into your veins.

Who knows where to get it will also know how to help himself, and I feel terribly sorry for those who have nothing and who must take what they can. I only hope that nobody extinguishes the passionate fire with his own hand but rather with flushed face and burning eyes looks for a girl that might take pity on him.

If time and opportunity are not there, or if you already have degenerated into a girl-hater, then my book is in the first place not for you and, in the second place, it is not worth awakening whatever little feelings you may have left.

To many a reader of mine the time may have been recalled when he ventured into the first secrets of love and he may have regretted that it was neither so easy nor so successful for him, and that he did not fall into the hands of such beautiful teachers.

Many may even have missed up to now the delicate spices of pleasure. But that is the way it is. Our talents are given to us in many different forms.

How many a good passionate girl feels a certain restless longing and becomes deeply despondent? Does she ask herself, why? Possibly she does not know it herself, or she will cast her eyes down in shame and her restlessly panting bosom will tell you the why.

But don't look for similar pleasures in just any female lap, and don't call me a liar when you press now a female body against your chest and find that the expression of emotions is not as I have described. One rose is different from any other. I was initiated into the secrets by true connoisseurs and the rest of my story will give ample proof that I did not find my Reibhand, and even less a brunette, just anywhere.

But more about this and that after my readers have accompanied me through some of my other adventures.

12. AS DESIRABLE AS POSSIBLE

I remained for a few more days with my father, since he wanted it that way, and departed then, very satisfied, toward my town, since I could reap no more benefits from my pleasures.

How desirable was the message which Lieschen whispered into my ears when she handed over the key to my room: “Madame went away on a trip.” The girl was positively glowing when she told me.

Stimulate eager desire in either lady or wench, and they will meet you halfway.

“Well, Lieschen, then sleep with me tonight.”

“That's not possible.”

“And why?”

“Why?”

She cast down her eyes.

“I could oversleep if the cook does not wake me up tomorrow morning.”

“Fine, then I will come to you; I hope you keep the light on.”

“For what?”

“At least till I arrive. For sure?”

“Well, if you want to.”

I had seen two female bodies and now I also wanted to see the third one and compare because I had made up my mind to study feminine beauty in all seriousness.

Our cook was a fifty-year-old maid whose only pleasure was to stay in bed and who now thanked her Lord that she could rest up since her mistress had gone on a trip.

Therefore, I could sneak up to Lieschen's room as early as ten o'clock without running the risk of being discovered.

She was just about to take off her black silken bodice.

“But you're so terribly early.”

I sat down upon a chair next to the table with the lamp on it, pulled Lieschen toward me, kissed her pretty mouth and moved my tongue between her lips. The poor child recoiled because she did not know what had happened to her.

I put her left hand in the nape of my neck and the movement caused my robe to open; she saw that I wore only a shirt and hid her face in my shoulder.

Without further ado I put her upright on my lap, uncovered her bosom and took her pretty little globes in the hollow of my hand. They were neither the full blooming roses of Madame Reibhand nor of my fair lady, but firm and solid buds. I kissed them; my lips were rebuked. The little nipple stood erect like a point and was still too little to be grasped by my amorous lips. I loosened her petticoat but she held on to it with her little hands.

“Oh, no!”

“But yes, Lieschen!”

“Then you have to put out the light.”

“Then I would rob myself of my greatest pleasure.”

I took both of her arms, put them around my neck, kissed her burning lips, taught her the tongue game, and the petticoat came down all by itself.

My hands now clutched her round firm pretty little buttocks; I was getting hot and deemed it improper to hesitate any longer.

I pulled Lieschen upright, took off her bodice and with little resistance managed to push her blouse over her shoulders.

I must admit that Lieschen had the prettiest body. She was not big, but everything was so pretty and all the parts so regular and beautiful and young that I could not get enough of looking at her and touching her.

“I had thought, Lieschen, that you would take off my clothes.”

She kept silent and hid her face in my neck. I pulled her upright and threw off my robe and shirt.

There she stood, one hand in front of her eyes, and with the other she covered… you know what.

I embraced my dear little girl passionately and pressed her closely against myself.

I sat down and pulled Lieschen upon my lap.

She kept hiding her face against my shoulder. She sat upon my left thigh, I lifted her right one and stretched out her left leg a little bit and acquired a little better view of the pivot of voluptuousness which was shadowed by just a little hint of fuzz. But the little mount around the darling cleft was even more pronounced and more firm than the one of my precious lady.

Her heart beat loudly and the confused little girl's breathing was now quickening.

My finger found out that the entrance of her grotto was moist, wandered inside and discovered its little inhabitant hidden deep down.

Lieschen recoiled and uttered a sharp sigh when I touched it.

But I was after greater pleasures. I picked up Lieschen and carried her to the bed and without resistance we lay down in position. The entrance was too narrow; I did not reach my goal.

“Dearest Lieschen, pull up your legs to support yourself and lift your behind, otherwise your pleasure and mine will disappear.”

Lieschen obeyed. I now put my prick up in front of the cleft, encircled her hips firmly with my arms and shoved with all my power. One finger width and not more. Lieschen's breathing quivered. I tried it again and did not succeed any better, and then again…

“Oh, God! Please, stop it. It hurts!”

I felt great pain, too.

I relaxed; then gathered all my strength together and pushed as hard as I possibly could. Lieschen uttered a loud scream and she wanted to shove me away, except for the fact that she had not enough strength. I had penetrated about halfway; Lieschen closed her eyes and whined loudly. The pain became stronger and the burning of her grotto became almost unbearable. I took it out once more and pushed it back in with great force. Lieschen's breathing stopped altogether and with great convulsions the juices of passion flooded my amour scaldingly hot. Now I doubled my efforts, penetrated after the third attempt into her inner sanctum and made up more than double for Lieschen's loss. My pleasure, though coupled with pain, was indescribable.

Lieschen did not move at all and her breathing sounded like snoring.

I got up, took the lamp off the table and viewed the pretty little shadowed grotto of love. It was painted with blood and I could still see some slight quivering. My amour still did not have its head down, it only burned terribly. I resumed my former position and penetrated again, just a little bit less heavy than before; the entire interior was aglow. I kissed Lieschen's mouth; there was no sign of life other than a trembling breathing which resembled a continuous sighing. I put my hands under her round buttocks and started again with slowly measured strokes.

Lieschen opened her eyes.

“Are you still alive, dear child?”

“I almost did not believe I was.”

“And how do you feel now?”

She smiled, embraced me and kissed me for the first time and that with such an ardor which proved to me her full satisfaction.

“Sweetheart, lift your thighs over my hips… that's better! Yes!.. no the other one too… press them close together…”

“Aah!”

“You like it?”

She sucked on my lips with inordinate desire.

“Hold me tight.”

“Move your behind up and down.”

“Oh, God, what do I feel! It… is coming… I cannot hold it up… any more.”

(Almost in a whisper:) “Please, stop… I am going to wet the bed.”

The innocent girl made me laugh. Instead of letting her go, I pressed her closer against me and doubled my strokes.

“Go ahead, dear child! Do you enjoy it?”

“Oooooh.”

She breathed out slowly and with every breath she released a flood of her passionate juices. She had not yet finished when it was my turn.

The moment she noticed, she pressed my behind with her thighs as firmly as she could and made quivering motions with her behind.

We rested. My Lieschen became more bold. I gave her my prick to hold in her hand. It was weakened and lay there with bent head. She caressed it, played around with the curled hairs and touched the eggs in the hairy bag with considerable curiosity. This game cheered up my amour; her touching it betrayed her interest. I lifted her up and invited her to take a closer look. She took it in her hand; it came proudly erect.

“Well, how do you like that? That's funny.”

I bedded Lieschen down again, bent myself over her and invited her to guide my staff into her grotto.

She did it without refusal and we enjoyed as great a pleasure as before.

13. AN HONEST MAN KEEPS HIS PROMISE

In a week my beautiful Frau von Glossen was about to go to her manor and wait for me another week.

I did not obey her command to abstain for one whole week, but I was going to keep my promise to visit her.

I went to my father and asked for his permission.

“I thought as much! Don't you know it unseemly to visit a lady when her husband is not at home?”

I colored deep red.

“Oh, my little boy! I noticed something at the party last week. Well? Why do you cast your eyes down?”

“Excuse me, dear sir…”

“Karl, look at me. Matters like this could bring unpleasant embarrassment. Now, I have adopted you as my own son, you are a nobleman; do you have courage?”

“I understand, dear sir…”

“I do not wish to know anything about it… and I just now happen to remember that I am about to undertake a voyage within the next two weeks. So, meanwhile put your affairs in the city in order and continue your journey as you see fit.”

“Does that mean that I have your permission, dear sir.”

“Call me father and do whatever you want.”

“Well, if it is up to me, I…”

“If you want to take a servant with you, select one…”

I smiled.

“You see, little scoundrel, you don't want a supervisor.”

I kissed his hand.

“Do you want to drive or ride?”

“Too much kindness!”

And my father gave immediate orders that his personal tailor should make forth with a knight's dress with yellow robe worked with gold. “A young knight,” he said, “who wants to go out and seek adventure deserves a suit which makes his figure stand out. Do you wish to ride the brown English horse or the light sorrel?”

“If I have my choice, the latter.”

“Because he is wild and quick; I only hope that the young cavalier will not lose his balance.”

My beautiful Glossen saw me arrive in this getup, galloping into her courtyard.

A stable-boy took my horse away. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could; an incredibly old woman, the wetnurse of my beauty as I learned later, led me into the reception room and disappeared. My goddess received me with open arms and denuded bosom.

“I expected you to arrive yesterday.”

“My father wanted to make sure that I was dressed properly.”

“The old rogue! That would not have been necessary. His son needs no fancy clothing to be well-liked.”

I kissed her for this compliment.

“Ah, that's beautiful. Did you practice kissing while you were waiting, or is your memory that good.”

“Weren't you my teacher?”

“How bold and nice.”

I embraced her furiously and let my hand grope around in her bosom which was soft as down.

“My boy, my boy! Did you save it up to give me pleasure?”

“Judge for yourself by my fierce ardor.”

And saying this, I carried her to the closet couch and my hand was upon her source of passion quicker than lightning.

“For Heaven's sake, where did you get this audacity?”

“My beautiful teacher told me that I should do everything with a charming lady which was dictated by my imagination.”

“I see you've done your homework! But hold on, my darling, this is neither the time nor the place. My God, boy, I could eat you!”

And she squeezed me rather painfully where the back ends.

We had an exquisite dinner and emptied one glass of champagne after the other while exchanging all sorts of pleasantries. Little flirtations were unavoidable; we kissed, caressed, squeezed and nibbled one another, we sucked the wine out of each other's mouth and did whatever else our mischievousness suggested.

Believe me, dear reader, whoever is unfamiliar with such dalliances cannot evaluate them for their true meaning and he could not possibly understand how many sweet sensations they bring about.

After dinner she led me into a small room.

“This is your bedroom and that door over there will lead you to me (smiling) in case you are afraid of the dark.”

I kissed the joker's mouth.

“Now, why don't you stretch out here and let yourself be embraced by sleep. You have ridden for four hours and I am sure that the rest will do you good. I have seen to it that you will be well taken care of.”

Several passionate kisses accompanied her speech. All my objections were overruled and she left me, promising that she would wake me up in plenty of time.

And, indeed, it was not at all unpleasant because the champagne had made my head spin slightly. I undressed, lay down, and fell asleep quickly.

It was two o'clock when my Glossen woke me with ardent kisses.

“You are a heavy sleeper! I have sat next to you for quite some time now, looked upon your full red cheeks with pleasure and my lips needed all their strength to sip the sleep out of your system.”

I pulled my goddess over me; her soft round breasts covered my face, I sucked the little rosebuds and my hands-how could they have stayed idle?

“That is enough, dear boy, come along.”

She helped me to get dressed and we walked out into the garden.

A small brook rustled alongside the garden. On the other side towers a steep mountain, rocks piling upon rocks, forming a huge mass. On this side is a green opening in the middle of the dark woods encircling it. In the center of this circle stands a small peasant's hut. Upon coming closer, a flat basin in front of the hut in which two nymphs pour water out of two large-urns betrays not the simple dwelling of a peasant but the pleasure residence of a cultivated townsman. The basin is filled with foam caused by the tumbling waters out of the nymph's jugs. Thick impenetrable bushes surround hut and basin and secure against eavesdroppers and spying eyes.

Then the door of the little hut opened. Oh, the beauty covered by this simple thatched roof. The upholstery of the couches and sofas, depending upon which you choose to select, supports your body delightfully. Here you see a Leda romp with a swan, there you watch Luna kiss a slumbering Endymion. Here, a satyr is spying upon bathing nymphs, there, a little cupid coaxes his charming mother with little flatteries.

This is the place to which my beautiful brunette had brought me, and asked me with a smile how I liked it. I had never seen anything like it; I was enchanted. She kissed me passionately.

“Lover, you are forgetting me. I have not brought you here for nothing. It is warm, very warm…”

She opened up my jacket.

“Do you know how to undress me?”

Soon I had her standing in front of me with nothing else on but a light shirt, covering her beautiful limbs.

And soon, she saw me in a similar getup.

Shoes and stockings were removed, down fell the shirt, and there she went, my beautiful nymph, into the foaming basin, laughing at the surprised look on my face.

I followed her example. We washed each other, chased each other, played around together, and splashed each other.

My nymph fled across the green lawn. I chased her, overtook her and punished her petulance with kisses. Then, again, she slipped out of my hands, jumped into the basin and received me with foaming floods of water. But nothing could keep me back; I embraced her swan-like neck firmly and our fight ended in a passionate kissing of tongues.

Tired of our frivolities, we walked hand in hand into the little hut. We dried our wet bodies with soft towels.

She mockingly inspected my shriveled prick, laid herself down upon the sofa, and invited me to the battle.

There I sat, looking at the beautiful thighs spread widely, at the very seat of passion, at the red lips shining through the little bush like a freshly opened rose.

“Oh, poor boy!”

She arose, got soft woollen towels, gave two of them to me and started to rub my body. She asked me to do the same to her. Very soon, a nice warm feeling pulsated through our bodies. We continued and, according to her directions, we finally rubbed thighs and buttocks only, especially the latter.

What a fantastic effect! Fire flowed through our veins! My pillar had swollen and grown enormously erect. I had never seen it that big.

“Come here, lover, I can't hold it any longer.”

And really, the strong rubbing had made her behind glow, and it was in continual motion. Pantingly she ran toward the sofa, threw herself upon her back and lifted her behind high up, resting upon her drawn-up legs. The lips of her beautiful mount were hot and tender. I hesitated too long for her; she pulled me on top of her with great impatience and moved her behind so violently that I was almost incapable of guiding my prick into her cleft. She received it with a loud and voluptuous cooing; she worked and groaned so passionately that her center of bliss flooded after the third jolt.

“A-ah!”

“Please, don't leave me behind!”

I doubled my efforts and she lifted up so high that I penetrated as far as possible and I brought with indescribable pleasure-a double sacrifice to her little god.

She moaned loudly, her eyeballs turned around in her head, and she pressed me close against her bosom.

Now we rested peacefully, our bodies close together.

Despite the heavy losses, my amour still did not want to bow his head; he remained inside the temple of passion and flirted with the god Hymen.

“No more, darling, help me dress myself.”

“Am I being denied love's greatest pleasure?”

“Oh, yes, you are. Conserve your strength till tonight, and then I won't tell you any longer what to do.”

I gave her a firm jolt, meanwhile pressing her closely against me and planting a firm kiss upon her mouth.

“Please, dear boy. Please, don't ruin my performance for tonight. I promise you that I will submit entirely to any desire and fantasy you may have.

Her pleading was so beautiful and urgent that I had to give in, despite the fact that my staff was standing up in perfect position.

“Oh, you libertine, how lascivious you are.”

“Don't you like it?”

“I love it. Darling, where else could I get my pleasures? Will you ever come again?”

“Whenever I am welcome, and able.”

She sighed, looked at me, and her eyes filled with tears; I kissed them away with my lips.

We arose, took a bath, dressed, and returned to her little castle.

Without knowing yet for what I was going to use them, I took some of the woolen towels with which we had warmed our bodies after our bath.

Upon our return we found fortifying cups of chocolate waiting for us, and we drank them during pleasant and flirtatious conversation.

My dear young friend, I hope that you will be led into the secrets of love by a lovable creature like my Frau von Glossen; and I would truly pity you if you were to fall into the hands of some insatiable rutting Messalina who would force you to spend all your powers at once and who would not be satisfied till you dropped down, drained of all power so she could look down upon you disdainfully with a victorious mocking smile.

Yes, my beautiful Glossen was lascivious and passionate, but she was always prepared for the next pleasure and preferred to save something rather than lose it all at once.

14. A YOUNG KNIGHT GAINS HONOR

After the chocolate we went for a little pleasure ride. One should have seen me. I considered myself the greatest when I was trotting next to my beautiful amazon. Even my light sorrel seemed to feel the same way, because he had never held his head so high or thrown his legs so proudly.

Around eight o'clock we had a light dinner and we passed the time with light and frivolous conversation.

Then the clock struck nine.

“You are becoming passionate.”

“Shouldn't I be, dear lady? Would you be less satisfied with me if I were not?”

“Who told you about my weakness?”

“Which makes you so adorable.”

“Flatterer! It's true, I like passion and insistence, but only if I can guide it. I like to have something to do, and the restraining of passionate men increases my pleasure just as much as it is decreased when I am not very successful.”

I embraced her and kissed her passionately.

“Does that pertain to me, my darling?”

“Not yet; (smiling) but it would be nice to find out.”

“But such a beautiful bosom, soft as down, these well-rounded hips, these… these adorable thighs, limbs like no painter's imagination could ever portray on canvas, kisses to steal from the most beautiful lips…”

“Poor boy, you forget to put any sense into your speech! But without questioning the truth of your lovely statements, don't you believe that your beautiful, young, strong and well-built body does not evoke in me feelings that are just as pleasurable? I don't play around with your cheeks and hairs for nothing. It isn't just to idle away my time that I kiss your beautiful lips, or rub and feel your muscular thighs, or…”

“And you are still waiting?”

“Because postponing a certain pleasure is a pleasure in itself.”

“Even when postponing becomes torture?”

“Oh, little boy, I am afraid that you will become lecherous and let yourself be guided by your innate desires. It would hurt me if I would ever have to see you when you lose your virile power and courage. Believe me, the sweet pleasures of love, when taken too frequently, become deadly poison.”

But what good did her teachings do to a passionate young man who felt flowing fire in all of his veins and whose every reaction was twice as sensitive because his nerves were on edge?

From these few lines my dear reader will understand the value of the beautiful Glossen, and if my memoirs against all probability ever fall into the hands of some stern moralist, then I will believe for sure that his damnation of them will be not as strong and maybe, if the beautiful Glossen would be there herself, he would forget about it all together.

My beautiful Glossen finally gave in. She rang the bell. The little old woman was ordered to show me to my bedroom.

I was more than extraordinarily excited. I undressed completely, found a soft flannel nightshirt and put it on over my naked body.

The sleeping quarters of my beautiful Glossen were brightly lit.

She appeared soon.

“I thought I would find you ready and eager to go. I am afraid that my pleasure will be very temporary: you are too passionate.”

Without uttering a word, I loosened the strings of her bodice and her skirts. She sat down upon the sofa. I quickly took off her silk stockings, pulling them over her full calves, tore at her chemise and while I took it off I threw myself upon her and guided my prick without any further ado into the temple of her passion. My beautiful lady did not move at all, only the springs of the sofa reciprocated my quick and violent jolts which I doubled every moment.

Alas, the balsam of passion flowed out of me too quickly and I lost life and spirit.

My beauty kept her mouth pressed against mine as if she wanted to catch my slowly draining spirits.

“My fears were not without ground. You have poured fire into me… oh, it burns and consumes me! And you, you're just lying there… powerless, oh!”

She started to move her behind forcefully.

“Beautiful woman,” I said with weakened voice, “you kept me waiting too long. Just allow me one moment; I feel new life stirring.”

The body of my beautiful one was aglow, her eyes were at the point of breaking, her lashes quivered, her lips burned, her breath was but a quick panting.

I felt my powers return; I embraced her rounded buttocks and started the battle with renewed vigor — one — two — three.

“Oooooh!” The voice of my beautiful von Glossen quivered and her seat of passion flooded. She nibbled passionately on my lips, my ears; every jolt was followed by a soft cooing; a smell of nectar rose from her body and her beautiful globes were sprinkled here and there with little dewdrops.

“Are you still complaining about me, my panting darling?”

“Forgive me, I was wrong.”

I continued my slow strokes and cheered her passionately drunken soul with fiery kisses and tonguings.

“Don't you want to rest up?”

“It would be too soon to interrupt the pleasures of my darling sweetheart.”

“I promised to leave you completely free, and I hope that you will think more of your own pleasures than of mine.”

“I will do that, oh beautiful woman, as much as it is in my power.”

I put my hands under her buttocks and let my fingers play around high up in the cleft. My beautiful lady started to laugh.

“Don't do that! Who taught you that? That feeling becomes much top strong… oh!”

It did not take long and my sweetheart became very passionate.

She gripped my buttocks, lifted herself and jolt and counterjolt were carefully measured, each one accompanied by a soft “ah.”

Soon we lost our composure completely. All our feelings flowed down into our sensitive parts, and we started to groan; now her cup of passion was foaming and I poured nectar into it till it overflowed. Slumbering in voluptuous after-pleasure we just lay there in sweet unconsciousness, enveloped by odors of ambrosia.

I cannot tell you, passionate reader, how sorry I feel for your warm temperament if you have never found anything similar, a being that melts together with your own self. You must have lost the inspiring feeling of the highest bliss.

We were recuperating; my goddess looked at my flushed face with a magical smile.

“You are a man of your word, my dear Karl, I could not have enjoyed greater pleasures than the ones in your embrace. Shall we go into the bed? It is much easier in there to fall asleep arm in arm.”

“Morpheus will have to forgive us when we obstruct him in the fulfillment of his duties.”

I sat up. My sweetheart wanted to do the same. I held her back, spread her thighs and caressed her silken body and the little mound of her love nest. She was very willing and rewarded my little games with a smile and kisses. There was still some foam in her grotto and the little love bush was very moist. I took a small napkin and carefully dried the flooded area.

I have seldom seen a love grotto more enchanting than the one of my beautiful Glossen.

We both got up and embraced in front of the large mirror. We pretended to be statues, standing in various carnal positions.

Then I got my towels and started to rub the various parts of my lover's body.

“Naughty! Did you take mine along also?”

“You have promised me complete freedom, my dearest goddess, and now it is my turn. If you want to do anything then you will have to wait till…”

“You are a lecher without peer!”

I sat down, held my beautiful one between my thighs; I started to rub her buttocks, her lower body and, not always very softly, the lips of her little love nest. All these parts started to blush slowly and soon they were aglow.

Panting with delight she rested her face upon my forehead.

“I cannot hold it much longer!”

My finger went into the grotto. Everything had become dry, the little god Hymen stood at the gate, probably to find some cooling air, trying to escape from the incredible heat.

“I am… about to… perish!”

Her legs trembled. My rod was erect; I carried her nearly unconscious body over to the sofa and guided my amour into her.

The entrance had narrowed and it held me tight. My love hardly felt its presence while she was bucking up and down fervently. Her intensity took hold of me also; I pushed as hard and as fast as I could. The room was filled with our panting and it sounded as if a zephyr blew through a pine forest.

“Oooooh!”

We emptied the full cup of our desire with renewed satisfaction.

“Oh, my dear, beautiful magician.”

Now she was drying my scepter.

“Is that your punishment for your haste? To lie there, little giver of joy, worn-out and powerless.”

She caressed it, played with its nectar containers, kissed every part of my body, including my prick. This honor returned its pride and one, two, three, it stood ramrod stiff at attention.

“After it has tasted the greatest delight? That is too bold!”

“Too bold, beautiful lady? Am I not to take care of your pleasure?”

“You have done everything one could possibly expect; I have experienced delights as I have never known before.”

She kissed me as tenderly as possible.

“And now, back to bed! I promise you that I will try to give you as much satisfaction the day after tomorrow.”

“Is it possible to experience greater delights than today?”

“Today you had the freedom of giving your imagination free reign; the day after tomorrow it is my turn.”

She arose to get a bottle of champagne, handed me a full tumbler, drank one herself, and led me to the bed.

We lay down side by side under the soft down blanket. I felt my power return and, while giving her a long, lingering kiss, I laid myself on top of her.

“Oh, lover, please! Be careful.”

I pulled her thighs around my hips and started the battle all over again with renewed vigor. My goddess was soon in heat herself and increased my pleasure by playing around with my behind. With a tremendous jolt I spent as much as I had done the previous time and my sweetheart's passion pit was copiously covered with moisture.

Finally Morpheus reigned supreme.

The sun was standing high in the sky when I awoke. My face rested upon Glossen's beautiful bosom and my hand covered her temple of passion.

Carefully and slowly I lifted the blanket.

Whoever could get enough of gazing upon a beautiful female's body? Time and again, new vistas open up and the hungry eyes of the explorer find unexpected beauty.

She slept quietly, breathed regularly and every line in her face betrayed happiness and contentment.

My finger crawled slowly inside her love nest; the lining of the opening was a beautiful pink rose color. I penetrated and a trembling sigh escaped from her lips.

I could not resist my desire much longer.

I mounted her very slowly and ever so quietly let my prick sneak into her passion pit. The breathing of my beautiful sleeping princess stopped and changed into a very deep sigh. I lowered my body very carefully, then I remained still and listened, waiting for her to open her eyes so that I could greet her with kisses.

Her breathing became deep and irregular, deep sighs intermingled with rapid panting.

“Aah! aah! aaah!”

It seemed as if she wanted to lift her behind; I moved up and it followed me. Slowly I moved sideways and back and forth, finding an incredible feeling of delight at the sight of my voluptuous sleeping beauty. But my excitement grew stronger and my movements quickened.

“Ooooh!”

She opened her eyes; I pressed a passionate kiss upon her quivering lips.

“Really! A dream, I thought… pleasure …ooooh! Oh!”

The words died upon her lips. Amour and Hymen were bathed in the nectar of our life juices.

15. NOW IT IS HER TURN

I am sorry that I have to apologize for this, but I am afraid that I do not qualify for writing well, or maybe it is true that our language simply does not have a vocabulary rich enough to do justice to the passionate and voluptuous scene which I wanted to write for my dear readers. I beg your indulgence because I may have to restate several things which I have already described before.

I stayed eight days at Frau von Glossen's estate, and every other day we sacrificed copiously at the temple of passion.

My fair lady said to me, “Tomorrow it is my turn,” and…

The other days were spent riding, driving, and telling each other joyful tales. The important thing was to maintain strictest chastity. Playful tonguing and moist kisses were strictly forbidden; I was not even allowed a single peek at her carefully covered breasts. We slept separately, each in our own room, and our doors remained carefully locked after one quick good-night kiss.

My beautiful Glossen entered at eight o'clock on the morning of the third day, dressed in a beautiful rose-colored silk gown. Smiling happiness and joy twinkled around her lips, her long black hair cascaded down to her shoulders and back and a small nosegay of forget-me-nots was stuck in her beautiful coiffure. Her breasts gleamed like foaming white milk and proudly jutted out of the rose-colored frame of her dress.

I was enchanted by this beautiful apparition and did not move.

“Today it is my turn, right, my dear Baron? So it is I who must wish you a good morning first.”

“Enchantress! What fantastic delights may the day hold in store after I have seen such a beautiful sight?”

I kissed her hand and she planted a kiss upon my lips so delightful that even Venus could not possibly have improved upon it.

Amidst a thousand little pleasantries she succeeded in dressing me almost completely; then we drank our chocolate and drove away for a ride through the woods. It was almost noon before we returned.

After we had taken a nap, we went to the bath. We then sacrificed to the God of Love, drank more chocolate and rode our horses. We enjoyed our dinner and then…

Excuse me, dear reader, if you are dissatisfied with the picture.

The rose-colored gown and the black hair of my Glossen made her face more beautiful than ever, and the light that played across it made her look like a goddess worthy of veneration.

She managed to make the time pass quickly with quips and necking and before I knew it, it was nine o'clock already.

We went to her bedroom; she helped me take off my clothes, and her rose-colored gown had done its duty, too.

Our last garments fell to the floor. She embraced me vivaciously, rubbed my buttocks and caressed my prick. It jumped with joy in her beautiful hand.

She laid herself down upon the sofa and pulled me down upon her down-soft body, covering me passionately with kisses.

“Darling! Please, lie still till I ask you to help me. Promise?”

“Your wish is my command, venerable goddess.”

She guided joy stick amour into her passion pit. I had to push with my feet against the arm rest of the sofa and throw my arms around her wide hips, thus causing my body to arch slightly, giving her a little bit more room for free movement. Then she pulled up her legs, threw her arms around my neck and playfully darted her tongue between my lips. She started to lift her body very slowly till it was quite high, causing my rod to penetrate her deeply. Then she pulled back again and my pole was almost left standing at the doorstep.

“Be still, lover!”

I had forgotten that I was not supposed to move. She repeated the act, but this time with more speed. Then she rested again. She had become very hot, her tongue had stopped its play and her breathing turned into panting. Her motions became quicker and stronger, her eyes narrowed.

It was infinitely difficult for me to remain calm and it was next to impossible not to reciprocate once in a while her violent movements.

“Beautiful young man, is your pleasure as great as mine?”

“I am sure of it!”

And verily, I experienced a delight for which I had no name. A soft, voluptuous tingling, accompanied by little spasms in all parts of my body. It seemed as if the nerve-endings snaked out of my skin only to jerk back suddenly.

“Help me… but… very… slowly!”

The one jolt I gave her chased the last word across her lips. The double movement increased her vigor and desire. A deep red blush stole across her face and tears welled out of her half-close eyes, and the more her bosom heaved, the quicker did her breath become.

“Help… me… now…! Aaaaah!”

I embraced her tightly, doubled my vigor and quickened my jolts… her passion pit flooded.

And now my dam burst also; the nectar squirted with incredible strength, every muscle in my sweetheart's body spasmed, her tongue quivered between chattering teeth and her rapid breath seemed to be on fire.

I grunted. The hollow tone came deep out of my chest and was accompanied by the cooing of my loved one.

I kept on pumping with mechanical vigor and it seemed to me that I had turned into a machine rather than being a thinking creature. Finally I collapsed in sweet unconsciousness.

My sweetheart made me lie down upon the sofa and sat next to me, causing me to tremble under the sweetest sensations brought on by her beautiful small hands.

She was delighted with the vigor of my phallus and heaped a lot of praise on its head, teaching me in the process many a valuable lesson.

Then she lay down upon me; my breath came haltingly, voluptuous sighs escaped my throat when I carried this sweet and charming burden.

“I enjoy listening to your exclamations of pleasure.”

“Angel!”

I was incapable of more speech.

She explored the inside of my mouth, kissed my eyes, my forehead, and, in general, relied entirely upon her voluptuous imagination.

She embraced me again.

“Please, lift yourself up a little bit and guide yourself into my hole.”

The lips of her passion pit enclosed it, and I could feel the burning sensation.

She moved very slowly.

“Easy, my darling. Just lift your behind a little bit.”

A voluptuous vertigo took hold of me, and it felt as if I were falling. I closed my eyes with a sigh, shuddering with passion.

She kissed them open again.

“Look at me, dear boy, it makes me enjoy my ultimate delight twice as much when I can see yours.”

“Oh, dar-”

“Do it now… quick, quick!”

She increased her movements and, as if rushing out of a hidden fountain, my life juices squirted high up with indescribable delight.

Fire ran through my sweetheart's body; she groaned and labored and finally collapsed on top of me. The grinding motion of her behind had become a mere spasming and with every jolt a spurt of passion juice left her grotto and flooded me completely.

She swooned. “Oh, how sweet.”

Her body seemed to melt and dissolve into mine; every muscle that had been taut just a moment before was now utterly relaxed; her soul enjoyed the flight of sheer delight.

She opened her eyes again and a happy smile played around her lips.

“You could not possibly have experienced my delight and I would have wanted so much for you to have the greater part of it.”

“Dear flatterer, it is impossible for my imagination to think of anything more delightful.”

“Thank you, and I am grateful, whether you are telling the truth or whether you said it to make me feel good.”

She got up, took a towel and dried me carefully. We walked over to the large mirror.

“Do you like the look of it?”

I kissed her and nibbled the milk white globes.

She sat down on a chair and pulled me onto her lap.

“My dearest boy, I will miss you. I have often looked for delight and when I thought I had found it, it turned out to be stale and tawdry. It has never been as satisfying and beautiful as it was with you. Do you think we could ever meet again?”

“I don't yet know what is going to happen, since I am about to leave school.”

“Would it be possible to see you before you start journeying around?”

“If it is humanly possible.”

We sat there for a long time, talking and holding each other in loving embrace. Her tender hand had not left my prick for one second.

I started to rub her body, and asked, “Do you want me to use the towel?”

“Does it give you pleasure?”

“Shouldn't I enjoy seeing your beautiful white body take on a tender blush under my hands?”

She kissed me passionately.

“But darling, the fires of passion that are fanned that way burn deeply and slowly, they eat down to the marrow and are as suffocating as sulfur fumes. But they do excite the emotions to the extreme. Besides, it was actually my turn to give you the greatest pleasure and now you want…”

I kissed the word off her lips.

Smiling, she handed me a towel but kept one for herself, too. I held her with one arm, my chest against her bosom; the other hand worked faithfully on her full behind.

It is true, an enormous fire starts cursing through one's veins and the excitement becomes almost too painful to bear.

Our knees started to buckle and we staggered toward the bed, barely able to wait a moment longer for our coupling.

We soon emptied our cups of delight, but the feeling and the passion lingered. Only our movements had become a little more restrained.

My lady fair lifted her right thigh and laid it squarely across my behind, just in the small of the back where the spinal cord ends, lending emphasis to every one of my vigorous jolts.

We started to exhale fragrance and our bodies turned moist; I had never experienced a more voluptuous feeling.

The moment of full development came close, our behinds spasmed and jerked rather than moved up and down, our breathing had become passionate hissing.

We pressed our organs close together, stopped moving and lost our breath; we were captured by the greatest delight. Our mouths slackened, our eyes glazed and our juices flowed quietly, slowly yet interminably with only an occasional sustained spasm.

One cannot imagine what it is like if he has not had at least, a similar experience.

We were completely and utterly exhausted and in the midst of our climaxing, Morpheus took his poppy juice, sprinkled us liberally and fettered our limbs.

The clock struck nine when my beautiful Glossen woke me with soft, caressing kisses.

BOOK TWO

1. A CHANGE IN SCENERY

Following my father's command, I put my affairs in order, took tender leave of Madame Reibhand (Lieschen was no longer there), and undertook my journey.

I had just become twenty-one years old.

“You have a choice, my son,” my father told me. “Three in fact: If you want to become a soldier, I can arrange for an officer's commission; I am also not opposed if you want to continue your studies, though I wonder if you have prepared yourself sufficiently for such a career; and finally, if you decide to finish your life as a country squire, the preparations I have made will allow for that choice also.”

“I select the first, sir…”

“Call me father.”

“If your wish is my choice, father, I prefer to select the sword. Yet I would also very much like to visit the University for a few years to gain the knowledge and respect which will do honor to my title. I could have selected to continue my studies because I did lay a solid foundation for it; and I also would like very much to spend a few years traveling and see something of my world.”

“Dear Karl, you do not know how happy your answer makes me, and I feel that I have to be perfectly frank by admitting that I did not expect it. That means that the good reports from your teachers were not mere beggar's letters as I thought they were.

“Select anything you want and I will tell you what else you can expect from me in the future. Two more years and I will be sixty years old. I am thought to be the richest nobleman around, and, indeed, once upon a time I was; but the way I have lived according to a carefully thought out plan-of which I do not regret a single moment-has made things no longer what they used to be.

“I have now reached the age where many events which used to give me happiness and joy no longer excite me, yet there are also experiences to which I have hitherto been insensitive and which now bring happiness to my soul.

“Most of my lands and homes are mortgaged and I would not be true to myself if I did not put my affairs in order in proper time.

“But you are my son, and it would not be fair if I did not give you my special consideration.

“Here, my dear friend, is the plan I have made and which has almost been realized. I have sold some of my best farms and with the proceeds I have been able to satisfy my creditors. A few others have been sold on lifetime interest and I will receive fifteen thousand thalers per year till I die. I have let most of my servants go with one year's pay and I will only retain my trusted hunter and, of course, my dear Lilla. I intend to settle on the small farm near the village; it is nice and quiet. When I die, it will belong to you also. But I give you Blassenheim, because I have noticed that you always seemed to prefer that home. You will also have, from now on, a yearly income of twelve thousand thalers and if you can find trustworthy and reasonable people, it will be possible to increase that amount.”

I embraced my father and cried. I begged him to take everything back; I was prepared to give up all my wishes, become a plain soldier and live off my pay, but please, he should not give up his way of life and even if, after the many years I hoped he would live, nothing would be left of the estates, I was still proud that he had deemed me good enough to be his son.

“Dear Karl,” he continued, tears staining his face, “I am glad to find that I was not mistaken in you and it strengthens my desire not to change one whit of the arrangements I have made. Yes, I will visit Blassenheim, and I will be overjoyed if I can see you often. I only ask you for one thing: be an honest and reasonable man, do not deny your assistance to anyone if you are able to render it, but see to it that he deserves it. That is all I can tell you as a father. I want you to lead your life according to your own opinions and to live it as you see fit. From now on I will no longer hold you to account Tomorrow you will depart for Blassenheim and make arrangements to entertain me and six or eight guests the day after that. I will introduce you to your subjects and deliver them to your care.”

2. ONE SURPRISE AFTER THE OTHER

The next morning a stable-boy came to see me and asked which horse I wanted him to saddle.

“Whichever one you want, my good man…”

I was absent-minded; the experience of the previous day had made a tremendous impression upon me.

I took leave of my father with tears in my eyes and my voice quavered. Lilla was with him, and I kissed her hand.

“Is Lilla welcome when I take her with me?” asked my father.

“Father, would you want to come without Lilla? She is your undisputed favorite from among all the other ladies.”

“That is my son,” my father said, kissing me. “Lilla, love him like a son.”

“Could you doubt it, mylord?” asked Lilla. “He could never have honored me more, even if I had been his true mother.”

“For that I want to kiss you, Lilla,” answered my father. “And you have become twice as dear to me if you truly feel what you say.”

It is about a five-hour ride to Blassenheim. A groom accompanied me. I did not speak a word, made all sorts of speculations about my father's decisions and tried to visualize my future. I arrived sooner than I had expected.

The manor is a large, multiple building with a huge forecourt. Father's old majordomo, Jonas, greeted me at the gate.

“Mylord,” said the old man, “I have orders to hand over to you this entire castle and all that is in it, and I shall account for everything. And if you want to count me with the inventory, I will serve you for the rest of my life. I have grown old with your family and I would not like to leave now.”

“Well, my old man, in that case you are keeper of my household,” I said to him.

“I knew it! I knew it! The moment I saw mylord, I told myself, I can tell that the young Baron is going to keep me on. I knew it!”

“Please, show me to the stables.”

I found three beautiful riding horses, one of which was my light sorrel which had become my favorite since it had carried me to the beautiful Glossen.

I could go on and fill a book with the hundreds of thoughts and feelings that befell me, but I will not do it. I will leave it up to my readers to fantasize about my father's magnanimity.

“Tomorrow I expect guests, Jonas.”

“I know. I have ordered the baking and I will wake the cook and his helper very early in the morning.”

“The whole household is in perfect order?”

“Yes, as long as you want to stay here and then it is up to you whatever changes it pleases you to make. The cellar is very well stocked and I recommend myself for its supervision. Do you wish to order a bottle of burgundy or champagne?”

With every one of the old man's words I heard new proof of my father's goodness.

Soon it was ten o'clock in the evening and I was still sitting in my favorite little room, the one with the low ceiling, looking out over the flower gardens, when the old man returned and announced that there was a lady in a light carriage at the gate who had asked to see the keeper of the manor. He had rushed outside to meet her and the lady had acted very strangely, and finally ordered him to ask the Lord for quarters since she had been surprised by the sudden darkness. He had asked for her name and she had given it to him, but it sounded so strange and foreign that he had not been able to understand it correctly.

The carriage drove up in the courtyard and I told the old man that he should have shown her a room and kept me out of it. I was embarrassed and did not know what to do.

I went downstairs; the old man, holding two lights, walked ahead of me.

A lady, her face covered by a heavy veil, squeeked a never-ending stream of excuses, laced with complaints about the discomforts of travel, till my ears started to ring.

Excusing myself that I had not yet been installed long enough to properly accommodate a lady traveler, we followed the old man up the stairs. He led us into a room and left to make further preparations.

I became very embarrassed because the lady suddenly stopped talking and I had no idea what I was supposed to say.

The old man brought a bottle of wine and some pastry and left again.

“Would you, please… my dear lady… do you… please, make yourself comfortable.”

“My coachman will bring my things in…”

“I will make arrangements.”

The old man appeared with her coachman; they brought in a small travel locker, and left.

“It is unpleasant, terribly unpleasant, that the lout drove me in the wrong direction… my chambermaid…”

“If you will allow me, I would like to ask you to please feel at liberty telling me when I may expect the honor of wishing you a pleasant rest.”

“Oh, in about ten minutes, no more than ten minutes; it is already terribly late!”

Nobody was more pleasantly surprised than I. That voice had become so repulsive to me that I did not have the slightest desire to lift up that veil and see her face.

I added five minutes to the ten, and if it had been of any use I would gladly have added another five. Finally I reentered her room. There was only one light burning; she had taken the other one into the adjoining room.

I paced up And down. Suddenly something or somebody gave me quite a start by grabbing me from behind. I turned around quickly and gasped…

My beautiful Frau von Glossen in her rose-colored gown!

“This is a surprise. Right, my dear Baron?”

I embraced her.

“Angel! And you were able to distort your voice in such a repulsive way that I felt nothing but unpleasant emotions!”

“They must have disappeared by now.”

I was so overjoyed that I did not know where to start.

“I am so glad that you are pleased. But first, please, dear Baron, call your old man so he can see me and then tell him to get my chambermaid who is waiting outside at the gate, and have him show her where she can sleep, and… and… then we are alone.”

My dear Jonas entered. His mouth fell open, his hands clasped together and he almost called out, God protect us!

I informed him.

“I see, I see,” said the old rogue, “I'll put that girl to bed so she won't have any desire to listen at the door.”

The girl came in and was dismissed.

“But my dear, beautiful lady, what gives me the pleasure…”

“Here, read!”

She handed me a letter and I recognized my father's handwriting:

“If it pleases the beautiful Lady von Glossen to greet the young Baron Karl von H. as owner and resident of Blassenheim Castle and possessions, she will also find me there with a small party of intimate friends. His father is of the opinion, my dear and beautiful lady, that he has rendered a welcome service with this letter to you, as well as to his son.

W. C. von H.”

“The old fox has smelled us out. But you really do not mind that, do you, dear Baron?”

“I am so happy, I cannot find adequate words.”

I am glad to hear that, my dear boy. With a message like this one, how could I wait till tomorrow. I simply had to wish you the best of luck since surely no one more than I is overjoyed with your good fortune.”

She kissed me without stopping and I was delighted to look at this beautiful female and play with her marvelous bosom.

“Of course I would like to know everything that has happened since the last time we saw each other and I am dying to find out precisely what brought you this good fortune; but I promise to save my curiosity till tomorrow. Come, my good-looking young man, into your room and I promise you that I will do anything in my power to see to it that your first night in your own house will be a most memorable one.”

“Angel of love, what else could it be with your arms around me and my head resting between your beautiful breasts?”

She kissed the words off my lips.

It was the end of August and the nights were cool.

My old Jonas knew his job; a pleasant fire glowed in the fireplace of my bedroom. It was nice and warm; a fragrance filled the room.

I truly could not give a proper reason to you, dear reader, unless it was that my father's indulgence and my shattered nervous system caused me to experience every little excitement with triple force. I was sure that I had experienced every delight with my beautiful von Glossen at play, in embraces and with kisses. But I had never yet experienced the delights that were now in store for me. The feeling and the delight with which I touched her beautiful body, the tenderness with which I drank love's nectar from her lips, delight of delights when I pressed her against my body. It was not a fury of passion but a tenderness of quiet love which transported our spirits into a realm of joy.

We had undressed, laid down upon the cloud of our down mattress. Firmly embraced, lip upon lip, our very breath changed from mouth to mouth, and not a sound was uttered. We rested that way for a long time.

Then I quietly mounted the throne of love. A soft aah! announced my amour's entry into the passion pit. Our sensual delight reached its peak without resorting to foreplay with hands or tongues and we emptied the goblet of delightful passion, floating through eternity and tumbling into a peaceful sleep.

I still had my beautiful Glossen captured in a firm embrace when I woke up. Her body exuded a delightful fragrance and every muscle was as soft and relaxed as the down mattress that held us together. Not a single sign of passion was drawn on her beautiful face. Only pure heavenly love shone forth from every pore. I woke her with delicate kisses; she opened her eyes:

“Oh, my dear Baron, every time I think that now I have experienced every delight of which the human soul is capable and next time it is still more beautiful, but the degree of delight I have known this day can surely never be surpassed.”

She did not stop kissing me.

“Young man, created to dispense those delights which give meaning to life itself, please, please, listen to me. Be firm and be careful. Do not allow yourself to be dragged down to low passion which destroys everything that is good and beautiful.”

It might sound as a paradox to some of you, dear readers, since the beautiful woman I held in my arms, was the wife of an officer.

That we did not get up without having achieved a tender union and without having liberally sacrificed upon the altar of love is not necessary to mention, because it came as naturally as one chapter in this book follows another.

3. THE FESTIVITIES

My father and his Lilla arrived early. I led him to Glossen; he kissed her and said with a smile:

“My dear lady, I do hope that this unexpected and quick journey has not been too tiresome for you. You must have left very early, since you arrived here before I did.”

Without answering she took my father and me by the arm and led us into my bedroom and pointed at the bed.

“Are you accusing me, you old libertine, of having rested from a ten hour journey, here in this bed, last night, in the arms of the most beautiful young man in the world?”

My face was blood-red and my eyes burned.

Father: “Look, fair lady, the dear boy is ashamed about your giving away his little secret.”

Glossen (embracing and kissing me): “No, darling, you are not ashamed, are you? This old voluptuary is well versed in the delights of the flesh, and his heart is too good. He would not dream of denying others even the smallest of pleasures. If he had not been so old, and if I had not been married, I would want him to be my husband. Am I right, you old darling? Even then you would not deny me the embraces of a lovely young man.”

Father: “Blabbermouth, do you realize that you are mentioning secrets which are indigestible to commoners with plebeian upbringing and education?”

Glossen: “It would be terrible to keep even the smallest thing secret from your darling son-and he is truly your own flesh and blood — which might prevent him from enjoying the delights of life to the fullest.”

Father: “If you can help him, accept my gratitude.”

And he kissed her lips, her breasts, and took his leave with the following words:

“Karl, you have good taste.”

Glossen: “Did you hear that, you embarrassed youngster?”

I: “My God, you have taken me by surprise, and I don't know what to do.”

Glossen: “I will kiss you and play with you till you remember what you ought to do.”

She took me by the hand, pulled me toward my room, threw me upon the sofa and kissed and tickled me till I felt as if I were on fire.

“You are glowing, young man.”

She locked the door, then unbuttoned my breeches. I lifted her skirt; she embraced me with her thighs and we ended our little joke in sweet delirium.

My guests arrived one after the other. I received them and earned as many compliments as my father did, especially from two exalted ladies who had brought their equally exalted young daughters with them.

The entire company consisted of sixteen persons.

We sat down to our afternoon meal and the small orchestra which belonged to my father played joyful music, delighting our spirits as much as the fine wines that were being served.

Around three in the afternoon the bell of the village church started to ring.

“They have gathered together,” my father said. “Would you all please follow me?”

We followed him though we did not know where he was leading us. We went to the village square. Old and young had gathered together. The village music started. Father opened the dance with a young peasant girl and we followed his example, enjoying ourselves as much as the peasants with their simple, rough pleasures.

How that evening and the night were spent, I leave up to the imagination of my readers. I would not want to wear you out with a recounting of the simplest joys.

The visiting party left the next morning after breakfast and only my father and my dear Glossen remained.

A plan was laid to map out my future. Old Jonas was installed as the keeper of Blassenheim. I was supposed to go to my regiment where father had bought me the rank of Lieutenant. And next spring I would go to the University to further my learning and acquire more experience.

Father gave me an experienced man to become my servant and a week later I set out on my journey.

4. A FEW REMARKS WHICH MAY SERVE AS AN EXPLANATION

I assume that my readers will not mind, before I start telling about my regiment, a few short explanations about my father and my beautiful Glossen.

If you consider this chapter superfluous, please feel free to ignore it.

I have told you that my father was the last one of his line, and also that he was one of the richest noblemen in the country.

His first article of faith was: Love God and love thy neighbor; his second was: Man has been created for pleasure; out of these two he formed the entire philosophy on how to live his life.

My readers are familiar with his opinions about love. He believed that man, as well as all other creatures, was undergoing constant change. He believed the same of all things, especially of love. He was therefore firmly convinced that the fetters of marriage would effectively destroy the primal goal, the pleasures for which man had been created.

The beautiful Glossen shared my father's opinion, especially in regard to pleasure and delight. She was the only daughter of a nobleman who had given her away in marriage at a tender age and thereupon died, leaving her a moderate income and an estate free of debt.

She was very talented, spirited and had a good education. She soon found out that her husband alone was not sufficient to give meaning to her life. Abandon during his early years had caused him to become a senile dodderer before he had reached the age of thirty-five. Her fiery temperament found no satisfaction at all!

She was barely twenty years old when she acquired a lover, and she found in his embraces that she had no reason whatsoever to feel guilty about her decision.

Unfortunately he died in a duel; Frau von Glossen mourned him properly and looked around for over four years but did not find anyone who could meet the standards she had set for proper enjoyment and voluptuous fulfillment.

She had observed me for quite some time before she made the decision to meet me; and you, dear reader, now know the rest of that story.

5. DOES NOT CONTAIN ANYTHING OF IMPORTANCE

I arrived in the capital city, where my regiment was quartered; I met the general and my fellow-officers, was taught military drill, and went out regularly on guard duty.

I made acquaintances, and went to parties, and if I had not acquired a lot of books, I am afraid that I would have spent many a boring hour.

I met one man in my barracks whose acquaintance I learned to appreciate. He was a man of learning, who, despite twenty years of experience, was still waiting for his commission, the latter always being given away to the beardless and inexperienced sons of wealthy fathers with influence at court.

I divided my wages with him and listened spellbound at least two hours daily to his discourses on human nature, the world and politics. I learned to think methodically. I learned from this man how to compare and to gather concepts.

6. MOTHER DORE

Quite often, during drills, I heard from one or another always the same question: “Are you going to Mother Dore's today?” “When am I going to see you at Mother Dore's?”

Once I asked a tall and skinny lieutenant with deep-set hollow eyes what the meaning of that question was.

“My good God,” he exclaimed, “you have never met Mother Dore? Well, by the devil, then you really don't know anything. I'll be damned, but I'll see to it that you meet her today! May God burn me in hell, but we'll go tonight. I warn you beforehand, you are going to get hustled; they're going to take you for a few bottles of champagne. But I assure you upon my honor, you're going to get more than your money's worth of good, solid fun. My dear Baron, at what time do you want me to pick you up?”

“But please, tell me first what I am to expect.”

“You'll see! Goddammit, that'll be fun. I'll be around at four o'clock. All right? It's much more fun to do those things at night. I'll tell a couple of other good friends.”

I was sorry I had asked, because I could not stand the man's obnoxious noise, and I was determined not to ask anybody else the same question. I decided to take the chance and find out what Mother Dore's was all about. Then it occurred to me to ask my learned friend. His answer was:

“Mother Dore is a female who sells bad beer, end even worse wine, for twice the normal price and she boards licentious girls who consider virtue and chastity one of the original sins.”

“In that case I prefer not to be home when the lieutenant comes around.”

When he asked me what this was all about, I told him about the conversation I had that morning. He said:

“You will have to go for two reasons. In the first place you would become the butt of all sorts of practical jokes and needling if you did not show up, and secondly, I think that a young man should experience as many things as possible.

“A word of caution, though. Leave your watch and other valuables at home, and take only one gold piece with you to defray the costs. Also, be careful not to trust anybody because I am sure that tonight you will learn about a side of human nature which may surprise you. Tell me about your experiences tomorrow and I will give you a little lecture about it.”

So at four o'clock I was off to Mother Dore's.

We went to a small house which was hidden away in a dark narrow side street. I followed them, burning with anticipation and curiosity, into a rather large room. An old woman with shrewd eyes received us.

Lieutenant: “I am bringing you a young cavalier, Mother Dore, who wants to sample your merchandise.”

Dore: “You pig! How did you succeed in snaring such a beautiful specimen? It would be worth quite a lot to me if only your behind would look as good as his.”

The strange compliment surprised me.

She took me by the chin.

Dore: “Really, you are a beautiful boy. How are your father and mother?”

Me: “They are doing fine, thank you, and they also told me that if an old woman like you were to accost me I should punch her in the nose.”

Dore (laughing extra hard): “My dear boy, save your derring-do and your hand for the sword. Both would be at the wrong spot on my nose.”

The others: “Where are the little girls, you old witch; shit on all your double-talk.”

Another: “Fuck you, old bitch.”

And various other compliments which underscored the good breeding of my companions.

Now the girls appeared. Nice figures, good-looking, but the total picture was completely ruined by their brazen looks. It was incredible!

Dore: “Over here, girls, greet your new cousin.”

They all jumped at me, grabbed me and kissed me, exclaiming loudly, “Welcome, dear cousin. By my soul, you have grown up to be a nice big boy!”

Each one of them tugged at me; they all wanted to have me for themselves and they all hollered at each other:

“Hey, you, go to your one-eye!”

“Scram, Old Pugnose is waiting for you!”

“Skinny-thigh is waiting for you. Get the hell away!”

The noise made my ears ring.

Finally Mother Dore came to the rescue and said:

“Get away, all of you. First we have to see if he measures up to our standards.”

She was holding a gadget in her hands which looked for all the world like a cobbler's measuring device.

“Open up your breeches, young cavalier, we don't accept anybody who is undersized.”

I became very annoyed.

“I am getting sick of your talking; do me a favor and get me a few bottles of champagne. And please, leave me alone.”

The bottles arrived, and since I had become the host, I had first choice of which of the girls I wanted to have as a companion. I selected a tiny blonde whose languid eyes showed less harshness than those of the others.

The conversation soon became very animated. It turned into the foulest joke-telling and I was glad that I had selected this particular girl. My companion, either because she had noticed my distaste or because she found no pleasure in it herself, was comparatively selective with her vocabulary.

I kissed her frequently but something was lacking. There was no spirit or life in her tonguing; everything was watery; there was no power to it. I played with her breasts and beautiful snow-white skin, but her breasts were soft and lacked firmness. She expanded her chest to make them lift, but the only thing that moved was her rib cage.

She tried everything in her power to excite my passion but she caused far less excitement than the mere touch of my beautiful Glossen's little finger would have done.

The wine had taken hold of the spirits. The girls were asked to take off their clothes. I asked my blonde what she thought of that proposal. She shrugged her shoulders and answered, “Unfortunately I am in the position that I have to do it, and after a while one reaches a point where the memory of the time that such a lewd suggestion would have caused shame and disgust is only a very dim one.”

Our girls were undressed. They had to dance and stand in all sorts of positions as they were dictated by the most licentious imaginations. They did have very pretty figures, though they were very close to becoming old and flabby.

But the game did awaken my temperament and when I noticed that one of my comrades disappeared with the lady of his choice, I suggested the same to my blonde.

“Your wish is a command and I have to obey. This is not the proper place for refusal,” she answered, and we got up.

We went up to her room. I carried her to her bed. Her body was warm, but it was not the warmth which entices and causes passionate desire. I caressed her weak muscles, petted her passion pit and had the feeling that the mound under the Venus rug was worn out. All my work had no other effect but a few weak smiles and kisses without feeling.

I set myself in position.

My little blonde opened her bag of tricks and proved to be a virtuoso in the art of love. But passion was lacking.

She felt that I was about to approach my climax.

“Move as little as possible.”

I obeyed her; she grabbed me in the small of the back and started to buck and thrash under me, working with short, jerking jolts. I must admit that I spent with much pleasure.

“Are you satisfied with me?”

“I definitely am, dear girl, but it seemed to me that you did not take part in the pleasure.”

“Oh, it has been a very long time since I even experienced one tenth of the pleasure I just had,” she answered, kissing me wildly. “You still have some power left, would you allow me a pleasure which I can barely remember?”

I felt her inner muscles relax and tighten; her face flushed deep red and her breathing quickened.

“You hesitate… and you are right… a girl like me… does not deserve the pleasure which really… belongs to true love only.”

I suddenly liked the girl. Her beautiful blue eyes had become tearful but sparkling; there was not a trace of the brazen harshness left in them. I kissed her and fulfilled her wish by lifting her buttocks with both hands and moving forcefully inside her.

“Oh… angel of mercy… once more… aaah!”

How beautiful the girl looked now that she swooned voluptuously.

“Is it possible that you were born for this trade?”

“Ooh… no… not… that… oooh!”

Her eyes glazed.

I increased her pleasure when the floodgates of my passion moistened her love glands.

“Ooh… I have never… had it so… good!”

“Little girl, you're flattering me.”

(After some recuperation): “I am not flattering you. But can you honestly believe that I could find pleasure when I have to be available at just anybody's beck and call? You cannot imagine how repulsive many a male skeleton is that I have to embrace. And above all, I have to worry all the time about the possibility of receiving hateful poison instead of pure juices of passion with which I, in turn, may poison innocent ones.”

A noise in the corridor interrupted our conversation. I opened the door and one of the girls, still naked, came in.

“Upon my word, dear sister, I am very jealous. You still haven't finished and we, poor slobs, are rubbing our fingers bloody and our…”

A sickening and vulgar conversation. She sat herself down next to me.

“You haven't saved anything for me?”

She grabbed my prick. I pushed her back.

“Well, the little boy! How chaste… Well, look here, boy, I don't mind having my fill also, and I'll be damned if I couldn't serve you something better than our dead fish Mary Magdalene here who does not even know what passion is.”

She guided my hand to her mound which was very irritated and burned like fire.

“You can feel it, hah? Those old geezers… all they know is how to make it lukewarm and then they pant, croak and fall down like dead flies under a swatter.”

Quick as lightning she walked over to me, sat down on my lap, facing me, and clamped her legs around my waist. Then she embraced me and kissed me furiously and passionately.

“Now, dear boy, extinguish the fire within me and quench my thirst. Believe me, it ain't no fun when those old goats finally get you so horny that it's no longer possible to find relief.”

I tried to push her away from me, but she clung to me so tenaciously and begged me so insistently that I realized I had no choice but to give in to her ardent desire. That is, if I wanted to escape Mother Bore's establishment unscathed. Thus, I asked my little blonde if she would lend us her bed. She was willing but the whore sitting on my lap thought we already had a convenient position and she wanted to do it that way.

“Just lean a little bit forward and stay there… so… that's it… better… so…”

She guided my rod into her rather wide grotto, received me with loud exclamations, shuddering and chattering of teeth, and she started to labor with hollow groans, drenching herself in sweat.

The novelty of the position contributed most to my excitement. I grabbed the girl firmly, lifted myself a little bit and supported the girl's buttocks. She thrashed as if she had lost her mind and finally her dried fountain broke open and a tremendous flood burst forth. She swooned and was incapable of moving. My little blonde had gotten up and dressed herself. She supported me when I was trying to get up and helped me put the unconscious girl on the bed. Her behind was still jerking, her grotto filled with foam and the dark-haired frame moist and matted.

But enough about that.

We gathered downstairs and my companions were treated with hair-raising stories about my prowess which the passionate dark-haired whore painted in infinite detail. She was inexhaustible in finding expressions to depict her delirious mood. In the main, however, they were rather on the vulgar side. She obviously did not have a decent upbringing.

I went home with a lot of questions on my mind.

7. MY HONOR REQUIRED ME TO DO IT

My readers know me well enough by now to suspect that I tried to squire as many pretty and nice young ladies as I could. In the beginning I was afraid to have encountered a lot of bad luck because I could not find anybody who measured up to my beautiful Frau von Glossen and if my natural drive had been less insistent, I might have gone for a long time without a sweetheart.

In those days I had come to know a certain lady, slender, and with clear blue eyes which told me very clearly what she had in mind. I noticed very soon that she was not at all averse to my attentions and I decided to seek solace with her, the more since I had noticed that her husband was an inveterate gambler who spent very little of his time at home.

I happened to know a few other people with whom he regularly sat down at the gaming table and thus I was able to calculate how long he usually stayed away from his wife. When I had decided the proper time had come. I went to pay my respects to her and introduce myself.

She was reading when I met her.

“My dear Baron, what gives me the honor?”

“Dear lady, I have long since desired the pleasure, but certain considerations have prevented me…”

I hesitated.

“Considerations? In what sense? A young man of your standing and your good looks… what could possibly cause him to have considerations to visit a lady?”

“You might call it lack of experience, shyness, or even faulty upbringing…”

“Your frank and sparkling eyes contradict your excuses.”

I kissed her hand and was rewarded with a slight pressure of her fingers.

To make a long story short, dear reader, after a few necessary preliminaries I had stopped kissing her hand and proceeded to her mouth. Alas, her lips were rough and unpleasant.

My hand sneaked into her blouse, and… found it empty. A bony chest, a few unsightly warts on a flabby, hardly noticeable mound, and a dry, leathery skin. I felt sorry that I had started anything at all! But my honor required me to continue the game. Under slight, pretended protest, I felt under her skirt and my hand had barely touched a drooping thigh before she fell around my neck, flooded my face with kisses and allowed my hand free play.

I found hard, stubby hair, flopping lips and an incredibly large opening.

The woman was a veritable firebrand. She tore off my breeches, threw herself upon the sofa and waited for me to hurry, in full position. I threw a glance at her bushy passion part… it was yawning at me.

My honor required that I do it!

I did it as quickly as I knew how; she kept me in her tight embrace.

“Please, a little longer… for me?”

My honor required that I do that, too.

Aside from the fact that all the spice of the pleasure, if not the pleasure itself, disappears when our fortune directs us into the arms of a female like that, the most unpleasant thing of all is that one really has to concentrate on the task and quickly exhausts all his power.

Moreover, there is no delight in pieces of clothing and the ultimate pleasure is considerably diminished when one has no contact with a loving body, when its passionate aroma is quenched by underwear and the physical contact consists of a handful of starched linen.

But my honor required me to do it.

It is a loss of energy that is far more exhausting than any excessive delights experienced with a beautiful body.

I may return to this topic in another chapter.

8. A DIFFICULT TASK

Since the pretty face of my beautiful blue-eyed lady had made such a fool of me, I was searching my acquaintances for somebody who might make me forget that miserable hour, and my choice fell upon the Countess Tillig.

She was at the most twenty-four years old, her hair was in between brunette and blonde, she had a beautiful skin and she was definitely not skinny.

I searched her sparkling eyes for a sign that I might be rebuked, and to my pleasant surprise I discovered that not only did she not mind my staring at her, but she enjoyed the attention and actually encouraged it. The big question was, now, how to approach her, because her sixty-year-old husband guarded her with Argus eyes.

I paid my respects to her on various occasions, but I never succeeded in finding her alone long enough to exchange a few words.

I had almost decided to give up all thoughts of ever getting close to her because my hot-blooded nature demanded satisfaction, when fortune smiled upon me. The count fell ill. I knew nothing about this, because I was at a masked ball, ready to select a pretty mask for a night's dalliance.

Suddenly an ugly peasant woman talked to me, took my hand and wrote with her finger the word “Tillig” in it.

I did not understand what she meant when the masked lady led me into a small sideroom, pulled off her mask and behold! the countess was standing in front of me.

What a surprise!

I was so overjoyed that I kissed her.

“Psst… my husband is ill; if you believe it possible to find more pleasure with a lady who has reason to believe that she is not at all distasteful to you than you will find here at this masked ball, please follow me.”

She walked out without waiting for my answer.

I followed her, handed my domino and my mask to my servant and ducked with her into the waiting coach.

When we arrived at her home, she led me speedily into a small, dark room, kissed me quickly, and left.

I sat there for almost an hour and began to get very impatient when the door opened. My countess appeared and showed me into yet another room.

“If I have taken you away from better delights…”

I put both arms around her body.

“Better delights? To embrace a lovely and soft body like yours, to be allowed to kiss these fresh rosy lips… what better delights could possibly exist?”

I must admit that I nearly swooned when I pressed her lovely body close to me and the heavy breathing of the countess left no doubt as to what was going on in her mind and body.

A nice comfortable bed stood against one of the walls. I took my countess by the hand and walked her to it; I sat her down and she sighed. I loosened her bodice and was surprised at what I saw. Two gigantic snowballs of a size I had never seen before rolled toward me; I had the feeling I was drowning in milk foam.

I passionately pressed my lips upon hers, became very vigorous, jumped up and quickly started to divest myself of all my clothes.

“What are you doing? We are not that safe!”

I did not listen but stood there in my birthday costume, pulling and tugging at her dress, and soon I was with my voluptuous and hefty goddess under the blankets.

I give you my honor that it was not just a small delight for me when I pressed her soft body against mine. It was a novelty to feel those heavy, soft thighs and those enormous buttocks. And it was even more so when I searched my way to her passion grotto.

The countess shuddered voluptuously when my fingers touched the god at the entrance and the little imp jumped back. I stretched myself full length on top of her soft body.

Imagine floating on a very soft down mattress and you will approach the way I felt on top of my countess. I sank into her foam-soft flesh the way a tired head sinks into a goose-down pillow. My countess received me with a passionate sigh, pressed my lips against hers and sucked as if she wanted to rip out my tongue.

I guided my prick into position. God Hymen refused entrance at first and did not let him in till after some skirmishes.

Never before had my staff entered a grotto with such a feeling of delightful passion and never before had it been received with such festivities. It took all my power of concentration not to be carried away on the first deep wave of passion, and it gave me great delight to view my countess. Despite the fact that she had lifted her behind somewhat, I had to support myself with my hands because of her enormous belly and thus had a perfect opportunity to view her in all her ripe glory. I could also feel every slight increase of her emotions.

Her eyes became smaller and smaller, her face redder and redder. Her mouth was half open and her tongue flicked back and forth. Her breathing became halting and the sound got louder. Her bosom heaved in great big rolling waves, and every time I increased the pressure she would jerk and a softly whispered, “Aah!” escaped her lips.

Now her emotions had reached the highest degree; her eyeballs turned back, she opened and closed her mouth as if chewing something she could not swallow, she gasped for breath and her body performed all sorts of convulsive contortions.

I relied entirely upon my imagination and feeling and emphasized every one of my movements.

She started to boil over. Her passion pit flooded and at the same time my own dam burst and an enormous wave broke through. The countess closed her eyes, her breathing stopped, her body went limp and my prick slipped out of the grotto.

She had truly fainted and sunk into a deep coma.

I listened, did not notice any breathing, and I became scared.

I looked around the room for some cold water but didn't find any.

Kissing, caressing, shaking her-all to no avail-I squeezed and massaged her huge globes, petted her moist passion pit and found god Hymen quivering. He was the only thing left alive in her.

My readers can be assured that my embarrassment was very great.

Finally she opened her eyes.

“Oh, my God, where am I?”

“In the arms of your passionate lover, my dear countess.”

“Yes… so passionate, you could have cost me my life.”

She took my rod in her soft hand.

“Is it possible that this little devil is capable of fanning the fires of passion into all-consuming flames at will?”

I kissed her and mounted my soft countess again.

“Do you require proof, my beautiful lady?”

“Only with fire and vigor my dear Baron. Otherwise I don't think I could stand it.”

She grabbed my behind, directed the motion and enjoyed the delights with even greater pleasure than before.

The countess was by far the most passionate woman I had ever met. Unfortunately she was also absolutely and ravenously insatiable. She did not dream of saving for the future. On the contrary, even the periods of recuperation in between lasted too long for her, and barely had her cup of delight been filled to the brim when she managed to dry up and was clamoring for a refill. She tried everything to revive my flagging passions and have me fill her cup again.

It was a very difficult task I had to fulfill. The Venus cup had been emptied six times and now she reached to me for a seventh.

The last two times had been rather tasteless, but now…

I found that the soft flesh which I had liked so much at the beginning had become oily, flabby, spongy and decidedly unpleasant. The aroma was positively repulsive. But what was I supposed to do? Right or wrong, I gathered all my courage and by playing and rubbing the shaft of my prick I finally succeeded in getting it halfway up.

“Well, let's not lose any time!”

She tried everything to let me partake of her undiminishing passion, but without the slightest success.

“Such a young cavalier and tired already?”

And she grabbed me firmly and started to labor under me.

She pressed me deep into her body and flooded me as strongly as she had done the very first time. I finally thought that she was going to let go of me.

But she held me in her firm grip.

“No my dear sir, you owe me one; I have spent alone and I claim my right to try once more.”

We did not even rest up for one minute and she started all over again.

“Now, my dear Baron, I feel that you have revived. Do your duty and crown the works.”

I had to summon all my powers just to overcome my revulsion, but then, half out of spite, I started to poke her with such force that I had the feeling her spongy Venus mound was about to dissolve under my powerful jolts.

Every nerve in my body jerked painfully when I finally spent. She held me and pressed me deep inside herself so she would not lose anything. Then her own cup flowed over, which at least lessened the sharp pain a little bit.

After this experience, I felt no desire to see my beautiful fat countess alone again.

9. THE END OF THE SECOND BOOK

My readers are now familiar with a large part of my experiences and if they have compared one or the other, they may have drawn certain conclusions. They can also rest assured that I have done the same, even more so.

The unexplainable ecstasy in the arms and against the bosom of a beautiful female is the highest, yes the only, true and great human pleasure. One will look for it in vain in the arms of a blonde at Mother Dore's, even less against the bony chest of that blue-eyed lady and it becomes distasteful, yes even repulsive and nerve-racking in the insatiable embraces like those of the countess.

I cannot prescribe for my readers the type of female where ecstasy becomes heavenly and the only thing worth living for. The concept of beauty is relative, as are the ways of embracing and the feeling of passion; everyone builds his images out of his own desires, his own experiences and therefore it is very difficult for anyone to be truly short-changed, unless he has been cut off completely.

I will now take my reader along with me on my further experiences. You know of my intention to visit the University. I had asked for leave of absence from the Army, but my request was denied. I therefore decided to quit altogether.

I took my learned friend, Balthasar was his name, along with me and asked him if he did not mind becoming my lifelong companion. He agreed. For two years we visited the colleges and universities and traveled through Italy, France and England for another two. My most curious experiences are written down in my third book. I hope that you, dear reader, will agree with me, and I hope too that I will have succeeded in sparking your fantasy with it, as I have done with these first two books of mine. If I did not succeed, I hope you will forgive me.

BOOK THREE

1. WHAT YOU CAN EXPECT IN THIS THIRD BOOK

It is not at all my intention to entertain you with an extensive history of my academic years, nor do I wish to bother you with a complete description of all my travels. I will only give you, dear reader, a full account of my temperament.

I have not wasted my time and I can honestly state that with the guidance of my devoted companion Balthasar I have gathered more knowledge than one would normally expect from a person of my rank and standing.

There are travel descriptions about Italy, France and England galore and consequently I will mention nothing about them, though I do possess enough information to fill several volumes since I have spent considerable time in their capital cities. I will entertain my readers with lesser adventures and I hope that this will be to their satisfaction.

2. SOMETHING VAGUE

I had been at the Academy for over half a year and I had still not been able to make an acquaintance. I did not like the few opportunities I had and the others that I wanted were somehow connected with all sorts of unsolvable difficulties.

I started to feel a certain uneasiness. I noticed loss of appetite and I became restless and moody. The moment Balthasar noticed this, he asked me with much friendliness: “My dear Baron, what is wrong with you?”

“A lot, dear Balthasar, but I don't know what it is.”

“You don't? Poor man! Aren't you occasionally plagued by restlessness, inner excitement and increased heartbeat…?”

“Why, yes! You describe it exactly as if you are suffering from it, too.”

“And don't you know what is wrong with you? By my honor, I believe that you have never truly searched your heart. Don't you find relief from those symptoms whenever a pretty female face smiles at you?”

“Really, my dear friend, that's what I miss most. There is an emptiness in my heart, an unstilled desire… can you feel how strong my heart beats?”

“I can see eyes full of passion; they tell me everything I need to know. Why didn't you make some acquaintances? Methinks… look in yonder window up there; I should have sorely misjudged your condition if you were disinterested in her.”

“No, I am not exactly disinterested, and she has made it quite clear that I strike her fancy… only, I remain cold… there is no great attraction… I… I cannot express in words how I feel.”

“I do admit that without a passionate attraction consorting with women is relatively empty. However, I am surprised; a young man of your age is easily inflamed at the sight of almost any bearable female figure. Or is it that you have been spoiled too much?”

“How do I know, my dear Balthasar? Come, let us go for a ride.”

I had no idea where I wanted to go. I felt an aching throughout my entire body and was so miserable that I even wanted to pick a fight with the bedroom curtains.

“Go wherever you want, as long as it is far enough,” I said to the coachman as I stepped into the coach. I did not really listen to Balthasar's stories and answered his questions only halfway. We stopped at a way station where we met a well-known actor and three actresses.

“Good boy, if this is where your 'something vague,' leads you,” whispered my friend to me, “we can entertain ourselves. You see, those girls are not bad looking. Which one do you select?”

“At the moment… no one,” was my answer.

We ordered a few bottles of wine and invited the actors to be our guests. They finally accepted after the first few polite refusals.

The joyfulness of a little woman made me feel somewhat better, and since she seemed to pay most of her attention to me, I finally sat down next to her and noticed that she liked that very much.

Our hands touched; I squeezed, and she squeezed back.

She got up and walked over to the window.

“Are you leaving me, beautiful woman?”

“Because I wish I was here alone with you.”

“That is very flattering for me.”

I threw my arm around her neck and pressed a passionate kiss upon her heavily made-up lips.

She looked at me.

“Beautiful woman, would you like to go with me into the garden? I can see from here that the rays of sunlight make a beautiful pattern through the tree leaves.”

She offered me her small, pretty arm, and we left.

I felt a certain fire burn deep inside me which created a much better mood than I had known for a long time. Talking became easier and I almost started to enjoy myself thoroughly. I noticed a gazebo at the end of the garden and directed our steps toward it. A wooden bench and a stone-hewn table were its only furniture. I leaned against the latter, embraced my little Eve tightly and kissed her upon the forehead. While doing so, I happened to notice that her breasts were extraordinarily beautiful.

“Beautiful woman, would you care to make me very happy and drive with me to your home?”

“If you could find a graceful way of doing it as far as the others are concerned, I would be more than happy, because we are on foot.”

I sat down upon the bench, pulled her upon my lap and started the most passionate tongue-play which seemed to give incredible pleasure to the pretty little woman. I became very warm and my desire reared its head.

“Your face is becoming very flushed!”

“Beautiful woman…”

I slipped my hand under her skirt.

She held it and smiled.

“Should I be prim?”

“Do you think that goes well with my passion?”

“If you weren't so charming… I don't know yet what attracts me so strongly to you.”

I succeeded in getting to the rosebush and believed that I had never felt one that was prettier and smaller. The little passion pit was tight and firm, proof enough that the little woman had allowed very few visitors.

I almost swooned.

“It is very difficult to contain myself, beautiful woman.”

“This place is very uncomfortable, couldn't you wait a little? After all, you are going to escort me home. At this very moment I really don't feel much like it.”

I got up and felt a very painful pressure.

“Beautiful man, I feel sorry for you.”

She leaned against the table and looked at me with the eyes of a gazelle.

I was incapable of stopping myself, sat her down upon the table, lifted her skirt, stepped in between her thighs, liberated my prick and it jutted out in full glory.

“What makes you think I will give in to your sudden passion?”

I put her feet up on the bench, pulled her closer toward me and my prick stood at the entrance of her grotto. It was larger and more swollen than I had ever seen it. And my beautiful woman gasped when it started to penetrate her grotto.

After the initial movements, her languid eyes betrayed the pleasure she received from the guest she had taken in. Soon her lips started to quiver and her breathing became halting.

“You are coming on too strong… I can't stand it anymore… please… please… not anymore… not… aaah! more… more!”

She became weaker while I became stronger.

But suddenly she countered with one enormous push and at almost the same time we emptied the cup of passion with indescribable delight.

“This position was new for me and I am almost ashamed that you found me so easy to take. If my girl friends were ever to find out what an easy pushover-I believe that is the word for it-I have been for you, I would never hear the last of it!”

“Why would that be, beautiful woman?”

“Don't act so innocent, my dear sir. There are very few who can boast the favor, and it took them long and arduous squiring. And if I don't feel anything here (she put her hand upon her heart), there is nothing in the world which could induce me. I enjoy my pleasure too much to barter it and I want you to know right now that whatever happened in here does not give you the right to certain privileges any time you think of them.”

She said it with a very proud expression which made her look even prettier, since it seemed too natural for her.

Balthasar met us. He took one look at me, then he kissed Madame's hand and said, “I thank you, beautiful woman for putting life back into my friend's sad eyes.”

She said sarcastically, “If I have helped to contribute to your friend's happiness then it is he who should thank me, and not his faithful friend.”

Balthasar was too surprised to even blush, and he did not know what to say.

We returned to the rest of our company and Madame Zertha (that was her name) drove home with me in my coach.

3. REMARKABLE CAPRICE

I stopped off at Madame Zertha's home. She prepared a light supper and entertained me very pleasantly.

I asked her permission to spend the night with her.

“If I permit you this,” she said smilingly, “you will have reason to regret it. Take my advice and be satisfied with a few hours. Then…”

“Regret it?!” I exclaimed. “How remarkable…”

“Remarkable indeed, but that's because you don't know me. Oh, well, I'll grant you the night but I assure you beforehand that you will leave out of your own volition.”

I could not understand it.

I helped her to undress. I was surprised to discover that a woman of her kind had such beautiful breasts, so pretty and firm that they would have been the pride and adornment of any sixteen-year-old girl.

I prevented her from putting on her nightgown and loosened her silken underskirt which only hid her pretty calves halfway. She fled under the blanket.

I begged her, but she remained covered.

“Take off your clothes and I will take you to me; but whatever your curious eyes may want to see, they shall not look at it.”

“Would you deny me the pleasure of admiring your fabulous body?”

“If you want to find pleasure in my embrace, it would be silly to deny you this, especially since I have already given myself to you once. But it is basically against my good taste; do what you think you have to do and no more …”

I undressed and got into the bed with her. My hands had every liberty but she did not even allow my eyes to gaze upon her gorgeous milk-white globes.

I had to admit that I was very disappointed not to be able to satisfy my curiosity, especially since I could feel that her pretty little rosebush was covered with the finest wool all the way up to her little navel. It was something I had never felt before.

“Come here, and let your curiosity make place for ecstasy.”

She embraced me and pulled me on top of her.

“But please, let your little boy be a bit more careful this time, otherwise you will cause me considerable pain.”

I followed her directions and went into her quite slowly.

“Stop! Not so deep!”

The sensations were extraordinary and soon I forgot all my temperance.

“Oh, oh!.. it hurts!”

Her little hand clutched my prick to prevent it from getting in any deeper.

“That's better… stop!”

Her breath quivered.

And the more she hurt, the more firmly did she clutch my staff which unquestionably experienced the strongest release ever, causing her to swoon and release it.

“Ooh, I am going to die!”

She could not talk any longer and I penetrated deeper and deeper, and the more her passion pit opened itself, the farther I went inside. She spasmed; my pike was captured and I was deep inside her up to the very hilt.

How delightful.

“And now, my dear man, let us rest till the friendly morning sun opens our eyes.”

But I intended to bring Venus a second sacrifice. She declined. I begged her, showed her my intense passion. To no avail!

“We will become enemies if you try to penetrate me once more,” she said and turned on her other side.

I don't have to explain to my readers that it was incredibly difficult for me to remain impassive when lying next to such a beautiful and charming creature.

I renewed my trials and became more and more passionate because of her resistance, and started to become a little bit more forceful.

She became furious and pushed me away.

That made me wild. I lost my senses and forced her under me. She pressed her thighs firmly together; I became furious and actually jammed my rod between them, grabbed her buttocks, labored frantically and flooded the soft rosebush with my balsam. Then I sank limply down on the mattress.

She pushed me out of the bed.

“Sir, you are rough, unmannered and you will never see me again. And if you want to do me one more pleasure, remove yourself from my presence.”

I would have left without that speech.

It is a very funny feeling to be treated that way by a woman. A mixture of resentment and bitterness, anger, fear and anxiety, and also of hope, the hope to be victorious. Pleadings, accusations, threats fly back and forth till finally, after everything has been said and tried, quiet desperation takes over; one picks up his clothes and walks out into the street.

Could my readers have guessed, when I met her in the garden, that Madame Zertha would turn out to be such a remarkably capricious creature?

4. AN OBSCURE STORY HAPPENS AGAIN

One evening I got word that I had won one hundred thousand guilders in the Lottery of The Hague. I walked up and down one of the busy main streets, deep in serious thought. I was thinking about how fortune smiles upon some people who do absolutely nothing to attract its attention whereas there are thousands upon thousands who do everything in their power to be noticed, and fortune turns her face away.

It was about eleven o'clock when I decided to go home and I turned into a small side street when I noticed a female following me.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you not the Baron so-and-so?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“My mistress inquires if you would be kind enough to exchange a few words…”

“And who is your mistress?”

“Aye, I am not allowed to tell you; but I am sure you will find out for yourself.”

“Well, this looks terribly much like an adventure. I think I will be kind enough.”

“But one more thing… you will have to follow me in the dark, and climb an awful lot of stairs, and you can only talk to Madame in the dark, because if my master… oh, God help my soul.”

“Let's go, dear girl, I am very curious.”

I followed her through the house, through a long and narrow corridor, up two flights of stairs.

“Stop, girl, I have to take a deep breath.”

Curiosity, uncertainty, and a little bit of fear, all had their fingers around my throat. I was also standing a little lower than my charming guide, and thus I happened to throw one arm around her hips while my other hand explored under her skirts. I kissed her.

“Phooey, don't you know that Madame is waiting for you?”

“But tell me, dear girl, what is the purpose of my visit?”

“Patience, my lord-phooey, don't do that! — my master is a real hot-tempered old miser and he expects her in his bed every night by midnight at the latest.”

We climbed another staircase, tiptoed through another long corridor and finally arrived in a large, darkened anteroom.

“Here,” my dear guide said, “sit down.” She arranged a heavily upholstered armchair for me and put a pillow under my feet. “Wait, but if you happen to hear the doors of the big room open, you must get up quickly and hide yourself in this closet. I don't believe it will be necessary, but one can never know what my master will do from one moment to the next.”

She went into the other room which was only very dimly lit and soon thereafter a beautiful figure was standing in the doorway.

I got up.

“Don't get up! Please, remain where you are,” called the beautiful figure, closing the door behind her.

“But, beautiful lady, don't I deserve the pleasure of admiring your beauty in the light?”

“If my husband were to spot a light in this room, that unusual fact would bring him here instantly.”

“Don't you have a room here…?”

“In the presence of my servant? And even more, with the possibility of the tenants in the roof apartments of the neighboring homes gaping and looking in? My dear Baron, I have made perfectly safe arrangements, but please, first answer my question: What do you think of my behavior?”

“I think that the beautiful lady has something of importance to tell me.”

I meanwhile groped around, found and grabbed a soft body, only very thinly dressed. I put it on my lap. She shivered.

“I have put my trust, I hope, in a noble-minded gentleman. I love you! The darkness makes this confession easy for me. I have fought it, and instead of being able to fight an insane desire for you, you can now see the result for yourself.”

I pressed her close to me, kissed the lips that had just spoken so highly of me. They were hot and moist and tasted like pure passion.

Again I asked her for more light on the subject.

“Please allow me my folly, dear Baron. At least for tonight. I promise I will try everything to fulfill your wishes as soon as it is possible.”

My hands felt a bosom as full and fresh as a rose blooming in the morning dew. Her calves and thighs were firm and somewhat large, her hips round and soft, her silken skin was smooth as the finest marble and her love bush, the entrance to her passion pit… oh, my imagination was a marvelous painter.

Her kisses were passionate, her hands feather soft; deep sighs welled up out of her heaving breasts and she embraced me harder and more passionately with every breath.

“Oh, woman, created for loving… and such an uncomfortable place.”

“Not as uncomfortable as you think.”

And the high back of the armchair suddenly reclined. I got up the moment I noticed that and prepared myself for the coming battle. I bedded my sweetheart down; she was glowing all over, and judging from her breathing and her movements one would have sworn that she was already sampling the joys of ecstasy. I was almost right, because when I carefully mounted her and felt my way toward her passion pit, I noticed that it was about to overflow. This made me very passionate and I drove my rod home. Never before had it received such a hearty welcome; the altar graciously swallowed the sacrifice that was brought to it.

My sweetheart embraced me firmly and crushed her lips against mine. Every one of her movements was accompanied by a deep breathing that sounded like mournful sighs. My imagination proved to be very active and helpful; I was afraid that I could no longer control my ever-increasing passion.

“Ooh, you are swelling… ooh!”

“Hold me tight, my love!”

“Lift up… a little bit.”-

I penetrated up to the root and the balsam of life spurted like a jet stream, causing the most delightful sensations.

“Oh, it burns through my veins… what a delicious feeling inside!”

She was moving uncontrollably. I noticed convulsions deep inside her, her breath quivered and a hesitant cooing escaped her throat.

After she had recuperated somewhat, she said, “That must be-the true delight of love. Have pity on me, my dear Baron. For three years now, an old man once in a while sleeps with me and despite all I try, I don't even succeed in making him lukewarm. And worst of all, it sometimes happens that he causes me to feel passionate, only to extinguish that feeling with his cold body. Hush! There he comes, you know what to do.”

The door at the end of the corridor opened, my unknown sweetheart rushed into her room, and I went into the cabinet.

“But why so early tonight, my dear?” I heard her ask.

“I am sleepy,” mumbled the old man, shuffling after her into the room.

Soon thereafter the maid appeared with a light, and opened the cabinet. “Oh, what a beautiful sight,” she said smilingly. “You may have to stay with me for a while till the other servants are asleep.”

“But how could you think, my dear child, that I would leave you? I will stay with you!”

“And what would Madame say about that?”

“You will find out the moment you tell her.”

“Oh no, dear sir, I don't like to pick the bones from somebody else's meal.”

“But I like you, dear girl. I want to stay with you. Where is your bedroom?”

I opened a door, and-sure enough-it was her bedroom. I took the girl by the arm, led her inside and locked the door behind us.

“I believe you are serious.”

“But naturally I am, dear girl.” I took the light out of her hand and put it on the table. Then I pulled my girl toward me on the bed.

“Oh, phooey! Let go of me!”

After a very light struggle, laced with many a “phooey,” she was only wearing a very thin shirt.

“You see, little girl, I am very serious.”

And in no time at all I was standing nude in front of her. She hid her eyes in the hollows of her hands and completely forgot to refuse me when I took off her shirt. She suddenly collapsed in my arms and trembled against me as if she were trying to hide herself.

Every quivering muscle in her body betrayed her passion. The curly hairs around her love spot were raven black and the lips were opened like I had never seen before. I put my staff in her hand and she let out a deep sigh.

“Do you want me to leave now, dear girl?”

“Your joke is said at the wrong time.”

“You are right. Come here and see for yourself, or rather find out for yourself if you get the leftover bones from a sumptuous meal.”

The girl-her name was Dorothea-knew immediately what to do. She was barely in position when she swung her right leg across my hip and countered every one of my jolts with an expert move.

“Please, don't shorten my pleasure… don't move so fast!”

I remained calm and let her do all the work till I noticed that her excitement had increased to fever pitch and I started to plow into her with all my power. She closed her eyes, thrashed around, and groaned loudly.

“It's… killing… me!”

One, two, three and her passion pit overflowed.

“Well, Dorothea, was it just a pitiful dessert?”

“Oh phooey!”

“And what will Madame say?”

“I don't care. Why did she have to have me hear how nice it was for her? Otherwise you wouldn't have found me so ready and willing.”

“Are you serious, dear girl? Well, I am going to see if I can reward your honesty by trying to do it once more, and better.”

Dorothea had no complaints and I went home that night around three o'clock.

5. I FALL DEEPLY IN LOVE

The night I spent with my beautiful lady in the dark had lifted my spirits. I was occasionally dissatisfied because I did not hear from her any more, and I walked past her house every night without ever having the slightest chance of getting in. I had discreetly asked around for some information as to who lived in that big old house just to find out the name of my mysterious fair lady. But it did not do me any good, because all I could find out was that the house was occupied by three crotchety old men, and each and every one of them supposedly lived there with his young and beautiful wife. It must have been that home's destiny to torture young wives, not to mention their young gallants.

Truly, one often pities those poor nuns who are supposedly devoured by their own passions, but I, personally, firmly believe that young, beautiful wives forced to lie beside old and impotent husbands are to be pitied far more.

One day, I was driving all by myself to a neighboring village which I had hardly ever visited. I met there a party of old gentlemen and matrons who were having coffee. What beautiful company, I thought bitterly; with a sad heart I sat down at the table, all alone, and ordered a chocolate drink.

Then a woman entered, dressed in a bright green riding costume. She belonged to that company, because somebody called her “daughter.”

A picture of her: Slender as a cedar tree, taller than average stature, a proud breast and ample bosom, soft rounded neck, a round chin with a dimple, her face more round than oval, slightly smiling lips, a fine sculpted nose, dark blue eyes, marvelous soft ivory skin and beautiful, ash-blonde hair, superbly dressed in a hunting outfit that was created for her gorgeous figure, and a dark velvet hat that threw a slight shadow across her angel's face.

I had turned into a salt pillar.

How could I, how would I ever succeed in talking to her? I had to talk to her! So beautiful! I never saw anything more beautiful in all my born days!

Over a thousand different schemes flashed through my brain. I did not dare look at her for fear I would lose my eyesight!

How could I get to know any of those people in her company?

But, as always, when fortune smiles upon one, he might as well wait patiently. It turned out that there was no need for all my plotting and planning.

One of the old gentlemen walked up to me.

“Excuse me, sir, but someone told me that you are Baron Karl von…” and he mentioned my name.

“You have not been misinformed.”

“Forgive me my liberty, but isn't the Old Baron your father?”

“That is correct.”

“I don't think I can forgive your illustrious sire; all my life I have done business with him, and he has never given me the opportunity to get acquainted with his son. I want you to know, my dear Baron, that you are welcome in my home any time it is convenient for you.”

And he took me by the hand, introduced me to the other members of the party and… the angel was his daughter! An old hunchbacked gent, deaf, and with a squint was her husband! I could have whipped the father for having squandered his daughter in such a horrible manner.

I found a thousand excuses to talk to her and I noticed to my incredible delight that she did not think it at all unpleasant.

We were standing in the bay window; I squeezed her hand, and she reciprocated softly.

I felt like a newborn babe and told my friend Balthasar so much about her and my adventure the moment I entered my home that he finally had to beg me to stop, because nothing in the world is as boring as the blabbering of a lovesick swain, since he constantly repeats himself.

6. MY PRAYERS ARE ANSWERED

The reader can easily imagine that I did not waste any time in trying to make my first visit to Old Man Brambur, because I obviously hoped to see my incomparable amazon again.

The old man was very accommodating, and he invited me to lunch that day. His dapper son-in-law arrived with the goddess of love. After some general questions and answers the two old men excused themselves, claiming they had some business to finish. But please, don't let me hold you; as far as I was concerned they could wheel and deal for the rest of the day. And the old mother excused herself because there were so many things to be looked after in the household. Go right ahead!

And there I was, finally alone with the venerated object of my burning love!

I looked at her. She cast down her eyes and remained silent.

There was no time to be lost. I got up, took her hand, and looked her in the eye to see if I could go any further.

“Madame, all I need is one glance from you to give me the courage to continue.”

“What do you want, dear Baron?”

“Don't my eyes tell you everything? I love you! (I bent over her and kissed her beautiful lips.) Yes, my angel, I love you!”

“But Baron, you see me today for the second time.”

“And only the first time I could not think about anything else. Please, give me one small ray of hope, beautiful lady!”

She squeezed my hand softly.

“May I dare hope?”

“I believe I have given myself away already.”

“Oh, how I wish I could transform this moment of togetherness into eternity. When, how and where can I see you?”

“Nowhere, except here in my father's home and we have to be extremely careful because my husband is exceedingly jealous.”

“You are dashing all my hopes into the ground.”

“If you are really in love with me, you would not want to ruin my life any more by spoiling my days with bitterness. You can see from my frank discussion of the subject how very much I would like to be more intimate with you.”

I embraced the angel and held her tightly while my lips sucked heavenly nectar from her lips.

She walked with me into another room which had a piano. She sat down and played and sang about love. That afternoon I talked to Balthasar and told him so much about my beautiful Flamman that he became sad and, shaking his head, said to me, “Friend, I had always believed that you were stronger. For you to fall in love… it's disastrous.”

I had no other thoughts but those about my beautiful Flamman.

7. LIGHT IS THROWN ON MY AFFAIR IN THE DARKNESS AND I HAVE TO TAKE MANY CHANCES

A few days later I suddenly remembered that I had completely forgotten to ask her where she lived. Of course, I visited old man Brambur again, but he went into long stories about his business dealings with my father and I was unable to find out anything about his daughter.

I was extremely discouraged that night when I walked down the streets and could not forgive myself for not having made any arrangements to see her again. And I also could not forgive her for not trying to get in touch with me and I called her names, accusing her of being ice cold and a coquette.

Somebody tugged my sleeve. It was Dorothea. She slipped a note into my hand and disappeared into the darkness again. I walked over to a street lantern and read:

“If you believe that you can justify your presence with a lady who admitted and proved to you her burning love, even though it was in the dark, then you will find your guide at this place around nine o'clock. But if your heart is as filled with love for Madame Flamman as hers is for you, I beg you to stay away since I despise shared love.”

Good Gracious! That made quite an impression upon me. I went home quickly to reread the message and see if I had not been mistaken. I had not, and it became extremely difficult to make up my mind.

How the devil had she found out?

It was almost nine o'clock; I wanted to be there, so I put on a light coat and left. But you are in love with Madame Flamman! You quite possibly might not have fallen in love with her, if you had seen your paramour in the dark… Amidst these and many other soliloquies I reached her front door, and now I followed Dorothea up the dark stairs, this time without any investigating, and soon I was again in that dark anteroom. My fair lady appeared in the doorway; I could almost feel her presence.

“And you have the audacity to show up? Do you honestly believe that you can convince me that Madame Flamman means so little to you?”

“Excuse me, my dear lady, when I have to admit to you that Flamman has made a very strong impression upon me, that her lovely picture has been imprinted indelibly upon my soul…”

“Stop! Enough! Do you have no compassion for my feelings?”

“Maybe I have spoken too quickly, but I beg Madame's indulgence. I did not, unfortunately, have the pleasure of seeing your beauty. What if my imagination got the better of me, and at the same time I happened to meet Madame Flamman?”

“I see, dear sir, that you did not come here for the purpose I thought you would. Would you please be kind enough to leave me.”

“Destroy the picture of Madame Flamman in my soul, and I will love you forever…”

“No more, milord; your being here has become an indiscretion and I hope that you will take immediate steps to correct it. Dorothea will show you downstairs.”

Dorothea came into the room, carrying a light. I thought I would faint and had to sit down quickly. My fair lady smiled and Dorothea left again.

Could I trust my eyes? Was this a game or was it my imagination?

“Take the gentleman downstairs,” said the beautiful lady, and Dorothea returned this time without her lamp.

I jumped up, ran into the room, got the lamp, lifted it and just stood there. The vista in front of me was unforgettably lovable. I put the lamp down and embraced the lovely Madame Flamman.

“How could you have kept me in this terrible uncertainty?”

“I will more than adequately compensate you for your suffering.”

“Angel.”

“Without pretense. You can judge the strength of my love for you by what I am risking. I would like you to stay with me tonight, I have made all the necessary preparations. Follow Dorothea and expect me to follow soon.”

I still had trouble realizing that it was not a dream. Dorothea took me by the hand and pulled me with her. We tiptoed in the dark through a long corridor, then down some stairs, into a room, before a bed.

“You take off your clothes now, and lie down,” said Dorothea.

“Where am I, dearest girl?”

“In Madame's bedroom. Now quickly; see, I have put your clothes up here, and in case of emergency… but Madame will undoubtedly tell you all about that.

“But if you think it is smarter, then you can also lie down here between the bed and the wall. It is narrow and deep, but we have made sure that it will be soft.”

Dorothea left.

I found everything the way she had told me, laid myself down, and was thinking about heaven knows what.

Dorothea returned.

“Are you comfortable? My master is taking Madame to her room. Please be quiet and do not worry.”

She left again to fetch a lamp and returned.

Oh, truly, it would be far from the truth to tell you that I was not worried.

Madame and her husband entered.

“Oh, I am sorry, my darling.”

“I don't think it is anything to worry about, my pet.”

“I hope not, because… oh, if only I were not so busy tomorrow.”

“Don't worry, I assure you it is nothing, I will feel a lot better tomorrow, it is just a little tension.”

“Then why doesn't the girl stay here?”

“Oh, no, my pet, why do you have to worry so much?”

The old graybeard did not run out of questions. He finally left, but not before having promised to look in on her before he went to bed, to see how she was doing.

She listened at the door till she heard the lock of his room door click and then she turned her own key.

“Well, my dear Baron, how do you feel?”

I crawled out of my hiding place.

“How can I ever thank you, heavenly woman?”

“By loving me fully and completely.”

I helped my paramour undress herself. There are no words or phrases strong enough to give even a slight impression of the beauty of her body. It was polished marble come alive. Not a blemish, no bone visible, and the dimensions were perfect. Even the most jaded aesthetic would have to admit that even his critical eye could find no fault. Her breasts were sheer delight; the soft globes were more beautiful than anything Phidias' chisels could have created.

The lines of her body were smooth and flowing. The little mound of her love grotto was half-covered with silken velvet; the opening was a little bit high but the rose-colored lips of her lovely slit were so pretty that it looked as if her sex smiled at me.

My eyes were insatiable, I could not stop looking at her marvelous charms.

And the way she sidled up to me! The manner in which my lips encountered her thrusting bosom; the way in which her snow-white, cool skin took on a deeper blush and warmer feel. And how her lovely passion pit made itself ready for things yet to come!

Dear reader, despite all your imagination, you will never be capable of creating a picture of all this beauty in its full glory.

I sat down upon the sofa and she was standing next to me.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“And have the bed curtains and the blanket hide all this beauty from me?”

I laid her down upon the sofa.

Her eyes were shining, her lips were luscious! She panted! We embraced tightly when I slipped into position on top of her. I was no longer just a man, I was a god, uniting with the most beautiful of women! We were drifting on a cloud of bliss and we emptied the cup of ambrosia with long drafts; we gloried in the joys of man's greatest pleasure. We were united into one soul, one body!

Excuse me, dear reader, when this seems exaggeration to you, but I assure you that I had never experienced love to such an indescribable degree.

“Do you believe me, dear Karl, when I tell you that this is for the first time in my life that I am experiencing the true pleasures of love? So far I have only known the unsatisfied lust and the fearful turmoil of unknown feelings; but the marvelous relaxation in the arms of a real man… that is a feeling I have never known before.”

Passionate kisses accompanied her little speech, and she was so close to me that I could feel the pounding of her heart. The clock struck eleven; she lit a night lamp and we went to the bed.

She did not let go of me for a single second and whenever and wherever she had a chance, she pressed herself closely to me.

“Just touching you is sheer delight. It is too bad that I have to wear this ridiculous nightgown, but I have to do that because we cannot risk being discovered by my husband.”

She received me with the most passionate embrace and the tenderest kisses when I positioned myself again. She was all feeling. I tried out her pretty passion pit. It was very dry. The glands were swollen and burning hot; little god Hymen stood as erect as a branch.

I had become extremely passionate. I told my girl to cross her legs behind my back, placed my hands under her beautiful buttocks and started to play with my fingers in her cleft.

After a few hesitant movements in front of her love grotto, I decided to slam hard and penetrate at once. She uttered a passionate scream. It was a delicious sight to look at her, knowing myself deep inside her and seeing her lose herself in rapture. A fine fragrance enveloped us. Small pearls of dew settled upon our bodies. Her cheeks made the glow of early dawn look bleak and lackluster, and every twitch of her lovely face expressed greater joy and satisfaction.

“It is burning, darling! My insides are… being consumed… ooh!”

The moment of decision had come. I pressed her closer to me and doubled my speed…

“Now!”

The words died on her lips, she tumbled into a voluptuous swoon with a low moan, her passion pit was filled to the brim, I felt her quivering delight, and then she received my copious love sacrifice with a passionate cooing.

We had not yet completely recuperated when we heard the old man approach. I had to disappear into my hideout.

His bedroom was next door. I heard him undress himself, humming a song. Finally he entered, walked up to the bed and saw that his beloved wife was sound asleep.

It seemed as if he was about to leave the room when he suddenly thought the better of it and came back to the bed again.

Can you imagine, dear reader, how I felt when I heard him take off his nightgown and crawl into the bed to lie next to my beloved!

“Are you asleep, darling?…”

“Yes… I was asleep.”

“Oh, you are perspiring so much; do you feel a little better?”

“Just a little bit! And you are disturbing me.”

“I didn't intend to, but you are so beautiful!”

“Oh, please, not now!”

“Just a little… well, well… you're quite moist down there.”

“I have perspired tremendously.”

“Oh, yes, yes, I can feel that! I am beginning to feel very excited here with you. Come here, my darling, I feel very warm.”

“Oh, please, be considerate with me tonight.”

“I won't make it too bad on you.”

“I beg you!”

“Well, I beg you, too. It is nice and cozy and warm in here. Come on now, come here. Aah! You are so nice and warm! I have never before felt so strange when I came to you.”

“I am beginning to get irritated with you.”

“But my little dove, I want to give you pleasure. Feel here, quick, quick, feel! Now are you convinced? Well, you could help me a little bit.”

And the old man started to pant and cough and snore, and after long trials and tribulations he had to admit that he could not do it.

“I have told you, my pet, you are only wearing yourself out, and me… oh, well… here it is …”

“Oh, darn it! And I was so passionate… wait… I think I can do it! Yes, I think I can… just you wait!”

“Please, don't torture me!”

“I have no intention of torturing you. Here, look… it's all wet, see? I think I did it… I really did it!”

I could have exploded, partly because I had to laugh and partly because this delicious altar of love was so profanely defiled by the old man.

“Fine, my pet, now please let me take my rest.”

“Oh, but I want to sleep with you.”

“I would love to have you here with me, if only I felt a little better.”

That would have been some joke, if the old man had insisted upon his conjugal rights!

Finally the old man dragged himself away and my love was back in my arms in no time.

“I am ashamed, dear Baron, that you had to be a witness to this!”

“I will forget everything when I can take you in my arms.”

But she seemed to have lost her previous passion.

I tried everything my imagination could devise. I tickled her, I kissed her, gave little lovebites, nibbled, played and rubbed to no avail.

I suggested we should get up. She agreed to that and locked the door with a bolt so that it would be impossible to open it from the outside.

There I was, holding my Venus in my outstretched arms, enjoying the sight of her beautiful limbs and body.

I noticed a towel. I got it, and started to rub her gorgeous behind.

She soon noticed the effect. She pressed herself against me and her breathing quickened. I kept this up for quite some time and finally she was slowly spasming.

I led her toward the bed; her knees were weak.

“And now, my darling, pull up your legs, brace yourself and lift up a little bit…”

There would have been no need for me to tell her this; she lifted herself so high that I had to watch out not to lose my equilibrium.

She held in a little bit.

“Ooh, I… can't any longer.”

“Am I, too,… tormenting you, dearest?”

“You must… be… kid… ding… Oooooh!”

Her passion was burning.

“I… can't… stand… it …”

Her breathing was slow and heavy.

She kept hovering on the verge.

“Oooooh!.. Now…!”

It wouldn't come.

I doubled my thrusts and soon my rod overflowed. She started to quiver under me, closed her eyes, and then… her little pleasure fountain started to bubble, it filled to the brim and flowed over. Voluptuously swooning we rested belly to belly.

Her face still showed the signs of our passion when I lifted the blanket and gazed upon her mound of Venus. The curls were covered with light foam and the rose-colored lips peeked through and smiled at me. She pulled me back on top of her, kissed me passionately and we fell asleep, holding each other in firm embrace.

I was startled when I opened my eyes to discover that it was already daylight. I awakened my lady fair, and she was even more startled than I.

“Oh, my God, how will you ever get away from here without being discovered?”

“It is still early. We can still sacrifice our gifts to the Goddess of Love and Passion. I suggest we do this forthwith to the best of our ability.”

And we gathered all our strength together and started our sacrifice. We emptied the cup of passion with the greatest of pleasure.

My beautiful lady helped me to dress. It was very difficult to separate. A kiss here and a kiss there, and we still could not decide to leave each other.

Dorothea was sound asleep. We woke her up and she led me downstairs to let me out.

She asked, laughingly, if I had eaten everything, including dessert.

8. I AM GOING TO SPILL A LOT OF BLOOD

I visited my beautiful Madame Flamman at least twice a week till she announced that she was pregnant and therefore had to forego further pleasures.

As soon as Old Man Brambur, her father, heard of the coming event, he threw a great party, and I was among the guests he had invited.

Among the guests was a pretty young brunette who looked very passionate and willing to me and, most important, she seemed attracted to me. I had been fasting for at least one whole month and was starving for affection.

I liked Mademoiselle Raschman very much and she seemed to be pleased with my attentions.

The dinner was held on the patio of Old Man Brambur's gardens and many couples walked arm in arm toward the gazebos, bushes and fountains. I suggested that little Raschman and I take a stroll into the gardens and she accepted.

It was dusk, the time so pleasant for making-love.

I was not really in the mood for any long and drawn out dalliance so I led her point-blank into the nearest bower. I sat down and pulled her upon my lap.

“Oh!” she gasped, “My dear Baron…”

I kissed her.

“Do you love me, beautiful girl?”

“You are very much to the point.”

“Why shouldn't I be? I want to make love to you, my dearest little one, and if you feel the same way about me… why are you laughing?”

“Well, I declare! If I were to say 'yes,' as far as you are concerned, everything would be… ready to go!”

“That's right. And I am, despite the fact that this place is rather uncomfortable, instantly ready to show you positive proof of my passion for you.”

My blood coursed hotly through my veins and I looked at her with passionate longing.

“And what could that be …?”

I pressed my lips against hers, darted my tongue into her mouth, held her firmly against me with my left hand, while my right was seeking its way to her fountain of passion.

The poor little thing resisted but she was not strong enough to escape from my grip.

“Well, dearest little one?”

“Please, let me go!”

“One more kiss, pretty girl, and another one, and yet another. When you think you'll love me, you give one. See, you're hesitant.”

“Let go of me!”

She was very much afraid and shivered. I could see in her eyes that she was undecided as to what to do. My fingers played with the prettiest little passion hole, around which as of yet only a few soft hairs had begun to grow. The entrance was so narrow that even my middle finger had trouble getting inside. She resisted but I was not about to let myself be deterred by that. I kept kissing her passionately while exploring her little love pit thoroughly. When I touched her inside, she suddenly relaxed and rested her face against my shoulder. She completely forgot any further resistance.

“Well, pretty girl, do you love me?”

I let her go and she cast down her eyes, blushing with shame. I kissed her fervently.

“Don't you want to kiss me? Are you afraid to admit that there exists in you a spark of fire?”

She looked at me. I kissed her and held her in a fiery embrace.

“And what answer can I expect before we return to the party?”

She took my hand and kissed me.

We wandered back to the party. My little Raschman walked by my side with a deep frown on her pretty face. I whispered to her:

“Look happy and joyful, as usual, my dearest little one.”

“How can I, when you made me so restless?”

She gave me a big smile and skipped away.

I had a terrible desire to take this girl's little bud and make it grow into a flower. The wine was lifting my spirits higher and higher and finally I looked her up again, to find out where she lived and to see if it were not possible to spend several hours of the night with her. At first she did not want to listen to my proposals, but finally she gave in and told me everything I wanted to know.

Her parents had, not too far from here, a small summer home where they lived during this season. The windows of my little girl's bedroom were facing Brambur's gardens. Her room was on the second floor. I asked her permission to visit her after the party was over, and she permitted me to do so. As soon as I could possibly get away, I walked over to her parent's summerhouse to investigate the possibilities. It would have been very difficult to scale the wall, so I secured myself a ladder and tried to reach the windows of her bedroom. No trouble at all.

I went back to the party and waited impatiently for its finish. Finally around ten o'clock the guests started to leave and I, too, pretended to be going home.

At eleven o'clock I climbed the wall separating both gardens and I could see my little girl standing in the window. I climbed the ladder and stood in front of the surprised child. She was about to ask me not to come in, but I was already standing next to her.

Her whole body trembled with fear and her breathing was deep and heavy as if she were afraid of great and impending danger.

“Isn't everybody asleep, dear girl?”

“Oh, yes… but…”

“Then there is nothing to worry about. Let love run its course, and you will never regret it. Are you sure that nobody ever walks into the garden at this time?”

“Oh, my God, no… but… I am so afraid! I wish you would go away again.”

“If you don't love me, my dear child, I will be gone instantly; just say the word. Don't you love me?”

“Oh, yes, but…”

“Well then, calm down, and enjoy your true feelings.”

I embraced her and covered her with kisses.

“Come, my little love, take off your clothes and lie down.”

“That I won't do!”

“Strange little girl! Why all these excuses? You don't expect me to sit here all night, do you?”

I became a little bit more firm, and soon I had finished undressing my pretty little one. My own clothes were off in no time. I got into bed with her.

Her heart pounded fearfully, her breathing was difficult and sigh after sigh escaped from her lips.

I could cup her round little globes with the hollow of my hand. They were hard and firm, like the rest of her body, resembling a rosebud about to open. As soon as my finger reached the temple of her love, it became covered with morning dew and the entrance was covered with slippery moisture.

I mounted her carefully and slipped her hand around my rod. Her breathing quickened.

“And now, my dearest little girl, you are about to experience the greatest pleasure of love. It is possible that the beginning is a little bit difficult, but be assured that incredibly great pleasure will follow an initial little bit of pain.”

I put my prick against the opening, put my hands under her firm buttocks so I could guide her and gain a little better equilibrium. The little olive-skinned girl quivered and shook.

“Please, let go! It's impossible!”

“Patience, my little darling.”

I pushed a little bit harder, lifting her at the same time, and she cried out loudly.

“Please, it's horrible, I can't stand it!”

She shook and quivered and I noticed that her little passion pit was veritably drenched. I had barely penetrated her and already she was well on her way into a passionate swoon. I decided to thrust deeper.

She screamed out loud, and I, too, felt a burning pain, even though my staff was only inside with its head.

“Please… don't… please! In the name of God… I'm dying!”

She went into convulsions and whimpered softly.

I felt sorry for the dear child, but I could not stop halfway.

“Please, dear Baron, I beg of you… let me go. The pain is unbearable, I'm burning…”

“My dearest little child. I feel terribly sorry for you. Do you really want to forego indescribable pleasures?”

“The pain, the pain, the terrible pain… Please, let me go… I don't know why I should be made to suffer so terribly!”

“Just a little more patience and you will forget all about your little discomfort.”

“No! Go away! I don't want it!”

She became impatient, and my prick started to swell. I knew that if I wanted to storm and win that bastion, I had to start the attack right now. I set myself in position to begin immediately and I mustered all my strength. I realized that for just a moment I had to be hardhearted and forget all the pity I felt for the poor helpless girl.

I tried two stormy attacks, the little girl cried pitifully, and I could hardly bear the pain myself. But I was so overcome with passion that I ignored the pain, the pleadings of the girl, and with all the force that remained in me, I rammed her once, twice, and for the third time…

“My God, you're tearing me apart!” she wailed.

But I was fortunate. I had finally succeeded in penetrating her and soothed her agonies with the balsam of my passion.

She quivered and quaked as if she had cold fever; her lips trembled and her teeth chattered. But I also noticed that she was rapidly forgetting the pains she had suffered, because her whimpering had almost ceased.

“And, my dearest Raschman, does it still hurt?”

She was breathing deeply without answering my question.

“If you love me, and if you feel better when you think that I am making up for the pain you had, you may put your arms around my neck and kiss me.”

She embraced me tightly and her lips sought mine hungrily.

My prick was still in her abode, gathering new strength. I started to move slowly.

“Tell me, dearest little one, does it still hurt?”

“Oh, no! But it burns…”

“I will cure that, too, for you. Pull up your legs a little bit, lean against your shoulder and lift your behind slightly. That's it! Do you think you could spread your thighs a little more? Beautiful!

“And now, put your arms around my neck and when it starts feeling good, you can start kissing me.”

I received many a kiss and finally it seemed as if her lips had grown onto mine. She lifted herself and pushed her lap toward me, flooding me with her juices of passion.

“Dearest girl, you are a passionate one.”

She did not answer, just breathed deeply.

My delights were great; the narrow entrance which fitted my tool like a firm glove exerted pressures which caused the most pleasant sensations.

I had just passed the point of no return; I firmly took her two small and firm buttocks in the palms of my hands and started to move quicker and with stronger strokes.

“And now, my dear Raschman, brace yourself, because you are about to receive my sacrifice to love and passion.”

“Ah!.. ah!.. aaah!”

“Kiss… me… now!”

“Oh, my God!”

“Are you all right, darling?”

Now my passion broke and barely had the nectar reached its altar when my dear girl fell in a deep and voluptuous swoon. Her passionate breathing and her warm fragrance proved to me that she was all feeling. She lay there as if drunk with happiness and she did not move at all.

I lifted the blanket. Her eyes were closed and she did not move a single muscle of her body; her breathing was quiet and regular; it seemed as if she had trailed off into a light slumber. Only a small tremulous sigh escaped from her lips now and then.

The moon was just shining through the window and lit up her little bedroom. I looked down upon my little girl's temple of love. Ooh! It was covered with blood and the bedsheets were ample witness to the bloody battle. The poor girl surely had suffered from her initiation into the secrets of love.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just looking at your lovely temple of love which I have just opened to make future happiness easier.”

“Why don't you say that you are looking at the results of the torture rack?”

“Are you regretting it, dear girl?”

“I certainly am! I wish that you would have to suffer those pains; I have never been hurt so much in all my life!”

“But now… admit it, darling, was the great ecstasy of love not worth the trouble?”

“I… don't know…”

“You don't? For that remark you should be properly punished.”

And I closed her tightly into my arms. Soon we experienced a new wave of passion and were lost in the throes of love.

9. PRESENCE OF MIND

My dear little Raschman moved back into the city with her parents when the fall season started and all the opportunities for my nightly visits were suddenly cut off. I had to look around for other possibilities because by now it had become clear to me that I could not stand to be alone.

I soon made acquaintance with a pretty looking blonde who seemed very charming to me, and I decided to give it a try and possibly give her a tumble. Her beautiful dresses had misled me. She was a seamstress. But I did not want to back out, especially since I had already indicated what it was that I wanted. She lived downstairs in a small house on a narrow side street. I cannot deny that I was rather apprehensive when I went to visit her for the first time to spend the night. I started to think about all the people who might have preceded me into her bedroom and if my escapade with her could have any undesirable results.

My worries were unfounded as the reader will discover from what follows.

The silly girl held a long and seemingly well-prepared speech about lovemaking and its possible results, while I embraced her and covered her beautiful face with kisses.

“Why all this talk, darling? It is far better to enjoy it than it is to talk about it. Shall we take off our clothes?”

“Baron, why didn't I rebuke you as firmly as I have rejected many others before you?”

“How should I know?”

I was busy investigating her bosom, whose only outstanding feature was the silken-fine white skin. The size itself was… well, minimal.

Her thighs and hips were good, the silken bush was beautiful, the mound and cleft were nice and firm, the entrance was very, very narrow.

Could it be that I was about to break another flower?

It was difficult for me to believe it, but… it was true.

The mere idea kept me very excited, because the obvious lack of breasts had cooled my original ardor somewhat.

“Do you love me, beautiful girl?”

“Do you think I would offer myself to you if I did not?”

“Then let's get on with it; finish undressing and start enjoying our mutual pleasure.”

“Don't you think I am going too far?”

“Not at all, my dearest, not at all.”

Finally, after much cajoling and silly talk, we had divested ourselves of our clothing and nothing was hidden from my curious and critical eyes. Her body did not excite me at all; it was irregular and looked even worse because of her bad legs.

I carried her to the bed and prepared to open the entrance to her passion pit.

It was then that I noticed how ridiculously far down and behind it was. I told her to lift herself up, put pillows under her, tried everything I could think of, and still I was unable to get it at a proper angle.

The girl was beside herself with excitement, and because of my touching, probing and feeling she had turned into a senseless machine. Her breathing was quick and heavy, and a fine foam had matted her beautiful silken bush. The elaborate preparations also had had their effect on me; I had become exceedingly passionate and my prick had reached its maximum capacity.

“Darling, all our troubles are going to be in vain if you don't turn around. And get on all fours, or we'll never accomplish anything.”

She obviously resisted at first, but finally she gave in and knelt down in the position I had indicated.

Her behind had become surprising beautiful and appetizing. It was round, white and firm. I spread her thighs slightly apart, which afforded me the most charming view. Her cleft had opened to reveal a gorgeous blushing red, and little Hymen was guarding the entrance of her grotto. The sight of it made me go wild.

I put my pike at the entrance, the girl shivered; I pushed forward and she pulled back.

“No, dearest one, don't do that. Offer some resistance, or we'll never get anywhere.”

I put my arms around her waist and held her firmly. Then I pushed again and this time I was more successful. But just as the little Raschman had done, this girl, too, started to whimper and complain and was trying to get out from under me.

I tried to talk to her soothingly, I tried to convince her that this was the only way and, most of all, I tried to quiet her down. But I finally reached the point where I became convinced that all my talking was going to be in vain.

Therefore, I grabbed a good hold of her and pushed with all my might. I managed to fill her entire grotto.

The girl kept right on whimpering, but her reactions were truly amazing.

Whether it was the novelty of the position, or whether the girl really had something good going for her, I truly could not say, but my ejaculation was accompanied with so much pleasure that I must admit, with the exception of Madame Flamman's love grotto, nobody had ever given me greater delight.

My girl just lay there without moving, and it was obvious that my prick found so much pleasure in her love nest that it did not think about leaving it.

Therefore, after I had relaxed somewhat, I started the game all over again. The entrance grabbed around me like a tight ring. The delights I experienced were absolutely indescribable. I would almost pull out and then penetrate as deeply as I could. I had never gone that deep. With every push I managed to shove my prick up to the hilt and fill her so completely that there was not even room left for a tiny air bubble.

“How do you feel, darling?”

“Ooh…”

She was incapable of speech. She had quite an extraordinary temperament and her whole being was engulfed in voluptuousness. Her breathing had become ragged and I noticed that she was tensing. I speeded up my movements because I wanted the pleasurable experience of emptying the cup of passion together. I succeeded admirably. She collapsed completely and I had to hold on to her.

I left my position, but she remained in hers as if she had turned into a statue. I gazed upon her passion pit. Her love juices were still flowing, streaked with blood as a sign that I had plucked her rose, and the swollen lips were still quivering.'

I turned her on her back, and slowly she recuperated.

“How do you feel now, my love?”

(Smiling): “I couldn't tell you whether I'm dead or alive.”

To me, it is always the most beautiful sight: a woman who has just gone through the throes of abandon and passion. And if she does not have that feeling, the sight of her is no longer exciting. I have held the most beautiful women in my arms but the ones who did not have the capacity for passion excited me far less than the ones that were by no means good-looking but with an innate capacity for voluptuousness.

I was thinking whether it would not be possible now to enter her passion pit from the front because I enjoy the embrace far more when it is spiced with kissing and tonguing.

I finally succeeded in reaching my goal. She rested one foot each on a chair and her buttocks against the edge of the table; it did not give me the enjoyment I had expected, because there was no other way for me to do it than to remain standing.

My girl had completely abandoned herself to her senses. I lifted her, carried her to the bed, put her in the previous, well-tried position and finished with as much pleasure as I had had before.

10. WHY DOES THE GENTLEMAN PLAY AROUND SO MUCH?

One of my affairs was a true disaster. At one of the parties I had met a widow of some thirty-odd years. She was very slim, rather on the skinny side, but she nevertheless believed herself to be a beauty and she was continually on the prowl. Out of fun I said some very nice and complimentary things to her, which was one of the reasons that she kept the rest of the party amused with her sly winks and suggestions.

That night I did escort her to her home, but I had no intention whatsoever of staying there. However, the dear lady forgot all etiquette and was so insistent that it would have become my faux pas to refuse to have a light supper with her.

“Please, do stay awhile.”

She pulled me down upon the sofa with her, crossed her legs, and showed me a pretty little foot and a well-rounded calf. Her every gesture and her facial expression betrayed her intentions and her very being exuded sheer lust.

You will do her a big favor, I thought. Lord knows how long she has been deprived. I kissed her, and hesitantly slipped my tongue between her lips. My God, she practically swallowed it, and her embrace was as tight as a vise.

I put my hand upon her naked thigh. She opened up as wide as she could in no time at all, and invited me to go as far as I wanted. I found a hard brush, a deep cleft and rubbery lips between which my hands could have been lost.

And the moment I hesitantly touched the entrance with my fingertip, she knocked my elbow so forcefully that half my hand disappeared into her passion valley.

I could not help myself, I had to smile. She, however, interpreted this the wrong way. She tried to crush me against her, she slobbered me with her kisses and was completely beside herself.

“Do you intend to make me completely happy?”

“How could I refuse you anything?”

She flopped on her back and pulled me on top of her so quickly that I had barely time to divest myself of my breeches.

If I have ever seen fiery passionate eyes, it was with this woman. They rolled around in their sockets.

She made it very easy on me; every single one of my movements was reciprocated with triple counterthrusts and when I took off the remainder of my clothes I feared for a moment that she was going to devour me with her feverish kisses.

“Oh, please, a little more…”

I did the best I could, and it was only because of her own passionate jumping that she arrived at her goal. With every spasm she veritably squirted amounts of passion juice.

I believed that now she would let go of me. But my politeness made her shameless and she suggested that I spend the night with her.

Can a man get out of such a situation without being dishonorable? The suggestion was as unpleasant as anything I could think of, but what else could I do?

I proceeded to undress my temporary paramour. To say the least, it was not a very charming view that unfolded before my eyes: a tall, skeleton-like body of which the hairy lips of the Venus mound were by far the fleshiest parts. Meanwhile she tried to make up for the non-existence of any charm at all with suggestive motions and a thousand little games, and I must admit that she succeeded in keeping me in the mood. Since my eyes could not find anything pleasing, not even in her face, I decided that I could only be properly excited by the outbursts of her passion.

She wore a soft flannel undergarment and without further ado, I tore off a strip and proceeded to rub her buttocks with it, as well as the rough lips of her private parts.

“That is new to me; why are you doing that?”

“You will be very satisfied with the effect.”

She became so passionate, she veritably snorted.

“Oh, stop it! I can't stand it any longer!”

I turned her around and positioned her on all fours.

“Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes, my beautiful lady, you will find it quite satisfactory.”

I must admit that the exceedingly large, red, and now swollen, lips afforded a very strange sight. I finally decided to put my prick into her. It was sweltering and hot inside that grotto, and I had barely entered it when the lady started to pant and coo.

“Does it give you pleasure, dearest lady?”

“Oh… yes… YES!”

“Shall we remain in this position? I am sure there is no other way in which I could penetrate as deeply as I do now.”

“Aaaah… qui-ck-er! Ooh! I… can't… oh… my…”

I pressed her flanks together with both hands and penetrated so deeply that even my pouch of passion was covered by the lips of her shame. I forced her to spread her thighs even more and became incredibly excited whenever those hot lips threatened to engulf my seed container.

“I need it… now… quicker… please!”

Finally, after some quick and jolting thrusts, she took deep drafts from the cup of passion.

I did not have to think up any form of petting and necking, because she took care of all that, her hands fluttered all over my body, causing pleasurable sensations as long as I kept my eyes closed. I tried to remain as calm as possible, since it was evident that the widow obtained unspeakable pleasures from her ministrations to me.

As soon as my shaft started rising — she had been kissing and caressing it while uttering low moans and whispering sweet nothings to it — the woman threw herself on top of me and took my breath away with her feverish kisses.

She guided my amour into her grotto and moved frantically on top of me, so fast that it was as if she had to be somewhere in a hurry. She panted and had a coughing fit, and suddenly the dam of her passion juices burst wide open. Spasming wildly, she flooded me with her moisture. She collapsed, totally exhausted, on top of me.

Meanwhile I had begun to warm up to the proceedings and since I assumed that the poor woman would have to spend many a lonely night ere she might have another chance at it, I had decided to make it truly worth her while. That's why I put her on her back and mounted the throne of love again. With a low, muted rattle deep in her throat she clenched me between her bony arms. I made her cross her legs over my back and worked with both hands on the cleft between her buttocks. Then I really started a battle royal!

“Are you satisfied with me, my charming lady?”

“Oh, more than that… this is the most beautiful night of my entire life.”

Her voice quavered when she told me this and the knowledge of it made me feel a little better. At least I had brought pleasure to the rather empty life of this good woman.

I kept quiet when my life juices finally started to flow, because I wanted to enjoy the warmth of her grotto. But as soon as she noticed my balsam squirting into her, she started to buck and ride, pulling me so close to her that I started to feel very uncomfortable. Her unlimited source bathed me in her passion juices and my prick received a bath as copious as it had been given the first time.

I feel truly sorry for a woman like her, who is forced to live out her days being consumed by the flames of her own frustrated passions.

I rested a little bit and then decided that it was about time to take my leave from her.

“Oh please, dear Baron, not yet. Allow me the pleasure of watching you slumber in my arms.”

I was fortunate in finding a plausible excuse, because I could not possibly have remained in bed with her without having to hurt her feelings. But my love accepted my explanation and I did not have to stay.

“But please, let us do it once more!” she pleaded. And she heaped compliments and kisses upon me.

But I still did not feel in the mood to mount that saddle again.

She kept pleading and I could not bring up the courage to deny her. I tried the best I could. I strained my imagination, thought about a thousand different things to inspire my flagging passion. To no avail; my rod barely moved. But she had noticed the little twitching and that was all the encouragement she needed. As before, she flung herself upon me and started to grind with delirious passion. And as before, her passion juices bathed my shaft, causing it to swell, and I made her change positions and managed to satisfy her completely.

I thereupon left her, never to return.

11. WE ARE GOING TO TRAVEL

That was one affair which backfired; I was sore for several days and really could not remember one single moment of pleasure.

These were some of the more memorable affairs during my student days, though by no means the only ones. It would become very boring if I had to describe in detail every one of my amorous exploits, including the ones that might have been and could have been. Whoever keeps looking will ultimately find what he is looking for. It worked for me every time, and I have always been singularly successful. The only time I was not constantly on the look-out was during my affair with Madame Flamman.

I now invite my readers to accompany me on my various voyages and see for themselves how I behaved and what I did. I reiterate again that I will make no excuses for my behavior and leave if up to you, dear reader, to draw your own conclusions and judge for yourself.

I was ready to go and my tried and true friend Balthasar had packed all the necessary luggage when something happened which kept me for a few days in the town where I had studied.

I went for a stroll through one of the parks, deep in thought, when my attention was drawn to four ladies who were also walking there. I was especially enthralled by one of them. She had a beautiful figure and her demeanor was majestic. An angelic face looked at me from under her hat. I turned into a small gravel path, planning to walk around and follow the ladies, or even better yet, I would cross the grass and have them walk toward me! It did not work out that way. The ladies had turned around and were about to leave the park. I veritably ran after them, but they had already hired a coach and I saw them drive away. I was very sad that my little ruse had not worked and I walked toward the other gate. Could it be true? There was the coach! It stopped in front of the hotel and I saw my lady love get off. I made some discreet inquiries and found out that she was a countess from Holland.

Would I dare? Yes!

“I am about to leave town in the next few days,” I told the hotel clerk, “and all my belongings are ready to be shipped and my home is empty. I would like to have a nice room here for a few days.”

“We would be delighted,” was the answer and I had my manservant bring some of my luggage to the hotel.

I was very lucky. A small room, not too far away from that of the countess, was empty.

Now I had to find a way to meet her and talk to her. I devised a plan and immediately set out to execute it. I selected a new and good-looking riding habit, went across the street into a coffeehouse and waited till about nine o'clock. I then jauntily scaled the stairs, humming a song, and I opened — as if by mistake — the door to the room of my countess. I was startled, embarrassed!..

The countess was reclining on a couch and her lady-in-waiting was reading to her.

I walked over and kissed her hand.

“A thousand pardons, my dearest lady, my unforgivable haste… did not pay attention… took the wrong door… it was my misfortune to interrupt you in such a terribly rude manner…”

“Who are you, sir?”

“I am…” et cetera.

“Would you care to sit down?”

“Milady, propriety… to be near so much charm may make it very difficult for me not to forget my good manners…”

“It is very difficult for me to speak German…”

“Madame, at your behest, I will be very happy to speak French.”

We talked for more than an hour and the countess remained in the same position. Occasionally I could catch a glimpse of the most perfect rounded calves I had ever seen. An incredible desire welled up within me. The lady-in-waiting left the room.

I stopped talking and gazed down upon her breasts which seemed to strain against the cloth covering them.

“Go on, my dear Baron, you were about to say that you intended to travel.”

She got up. I took her hand.

“My dearest countess! Go on… talking? How could I talk about anything when the nearness of your charms robs me of all thought.”

She smiled and this gave me the courage to kiss her hand. When I felt the slight pressure of her thumb, my next kiss was planted upon her beautiful lips.

“You are…”

A second kiss prevented her from talking.

“It is in your power, dearest countess, to transport me to heaven or cast me down to hell.”

“You are very bold…”

She sat down and I sat down next to her, embraced her and held her passionately against my chest. “Precious lady,” I exclaimed, “you may denounce me for this, but I beg you to allow me this little moment of happiness.”

My fervent embrace had caused her shawl to drop on the floor. She was about to pick it up when my lips grazed the voluptuous swan-white globes and I started to cover them with kisses.

“You are audacious!”

She pulled away from me and tried to act as if she were terribly upset. But her face belied her behavior.

We made peace with one another; I got up and took my leave, asking her permission to see her tomorrow.

She held my hand and looked into my eyes.

“Tomorrow…?”

I thought that she had not understood what I meant and I repeated my request; then turned around to leave.

She arose; still holding my hand in hers.

“Your grace is tired from the day's travel.”

“I arrived yesterday and, moreover, I only made short trips.”

“In that case… I cannot be anything else but bold…”

With those words I embraced her again, melted my lips against hers and darted with my tongue into her mouth.

“I wish I did not have to leave you… to know that you are so close to me…”

My countess became quite warm. Her face glowed as we sank back upon the sofa and my hand explored her delectable bosom without any resistance.

“Young man, you have all the requirements to make a lady forget her defenses.”

“I only wish I should be that lucky!”

And my hands were now resting upon her thighs.

“Do you want me to …?”

“You want me to become the happiest of all mortals?”

The slight resistance was really no obstacle at all and soon my hand had found its way to her rosebush of passion. Kiss upon kiss prevented the countess from talking too much. I threw myself beside her upon the sofa; her resistance was growing visibly weaker and my manipulations of her Venus temple had made her quite restless.

“You have made me very happy, but…”

“I have never met anyone as bold as you!”

To make it short, we reached an agreement. I took my leave after I had had her joyful promise that I would find the door to her bedroom unlocked that night.

Soon it was eleven o'clock and I could not wait any longer. I rushed across the corridor, dressed only in my nightgown. The countess just unlocked the door when I was about to open it, and the next moment I held her in my arms. She, too, was only wearing a thin nightgown, because she had already been in bed. I wanted to help her out of it, but she refused; I simply tore it open from top to bottom.

She looked at me in utter surprise. In no time at all my shirt was off, too, and I pressed her bosom against my chest. Since I had left my Flamman I had not seen any female body as beautiful as hers. And even if I were to put both of them together, the choice would have been a very difficult one indeed. Fortunately I did not have to make such a choice, because soon I would have experienced both of them.

I tried to create great excitement in her with every manipulation I could think of. I was exceedingly successful, because soon she started to complain about my being hesitant.

I led her towards the bed; she was very eager and received me in a passionate embrace.

Her passion pit was well formed and very pretty; it was situated at exactly the proper place and I had no trouble whatsoever in making my prick land precisely where I wanted it to be. The entrance was delightful! She clasped me firmly against her bosom as if I had just made an entrance through an arch of triumph.

I remained motionless and she kept kissing me incessantly, now and then shifting her hips under me.

“You know how to light the fires, I only hope that you are just as adept at extinguishing them,” she whispered.

“Are you in doubt about my ability, dearest countess?”

“It would not be the first time that I was left in the all-consuming fire. It is easier to arouse passions than it is to satisfy them, didn't you know that?”

I took a firm hold on my beautiful countess, kissed her burning lips and, slowing, I started the beautiful game of love.

Her face had become a mask of passion; her voluptuous white breasts, tipped by hardening rosebuds, seemed to jump up and down on her chest like playful lambs in the spring.

“Oh, terrible fire!”

Her lips quivered. She pulled me closer towards her. I noticed that I was about to reach the moment of decision and started to ride in full gallop.

“Darling, oh! Darling, oh!..”

She lost the capacity to speak. Her rattling breath changed into a pleasurable cooing.

“Beautiful countess, is it extinguished?”

An attempt to snuggle up closer and a low moan were the only answer. I now filled her cup with the ambrosia of love. She started to spasm and sank back into a voluptuous faint.

Delight seemed to have been poured out over her entire body; the length of time it took her to recuperate, proved to me that she had tasted the happiness of love to a great degree.

She finally looked at me, happily and lovingly.

“I hope you will not become too proud when I confess to you that I have never experienced such a pleasurable feeling in all my born days?”

“Not proud, but your confession makes me very happy.”

With those words I laid myself on top of her again and guided my staff back into her love nest.

Her kisses were exceptionally voluptuous.

I made her lift her legs a little bit and brought my hands under her buttocks, allowing my fingers to play in the cleft between the two hills.

In the beginning my playful fingers made her laugh, but soon she started to complain about the passionate sensations, then she lost all her resistance and finally, when her passion pit started to overflow, she sank into a deep swoon.

A beautiful sight; her facial expression betrayed full and complete satisfaction and happiness. I kissed the full globes, sucked the magnificent rosebuds, rubbed her velvet body and played with the curls of her love nest.

She opened her eyes.

“Well, my beautiful countess?”

(With a deep sigh): “How did you do it? Is it possible that mere mortals are capable of bringing so much happiness?”

She snuggled up to me.

“Why did I have to meet you; why did I have to find out how much I am missing?”

I wanted to go to my room, but she wanted to sleep at my side.

It was almost noon when we awoke the next day. Her eyes lit up happily when she looked at me.

“When do you have to leave on your voyage?”

“Tomorrow, dearest countess.”

“Oh, no, you couldn't. I have to stay here for at least four more days. Couldn't you postpone your departure for that long? Oh please, you can, can't you? Promise me!”

And she kissed me so passionately and squeezed me so hard, it was as if she wanted to press the affirmative right out of me. Of course I had already toyed with the idea, which was one of the reasons that I had not given my best performance, so that I would be able to prolong our mutual enjoyment.

“I would, my gracious countess, if I only knew how to extinguish passion as well as I know how to excite it.”

“Are you that greedy for compliments? I regret ever having mentioned it, and I beg you a thousand times pardon.”

As an answer I embraced my countess, swung myself into the saddle and started a voluptuous tongue-play. Her eyes glazed.

I made her cross her legs behind my buttocks and guided my staff through her arch of triumph.

“Verily, you know how to multiply the delights of love. But, please, dear Baron, don't be too hasty… you are going too deep and it hurts.”

She did not complain for long, though, and soon we released our life juices amid passionate gasps. I spent a few marvelous days. My love did practically everything to keep me in her arms. Once we went out for a ride in an open landau and as soon as we were outside of the town, she pressed a spring which released the back seat and we lay close together.

I lifted her skirts and stripped off my breeches and soon we were united.

The slow rocking of the coach gave us quite a thrill and the peculiar sensation changed into one of the most voluptuous swoons I have ever had.

The last day, when I entered her room that evening, she was sitting in front of the bay window, deeply in thought. I tiptoed over to where she was sitting, as she had not noticed my entrance. I took out my prick, embraced her, and before she knew what was happening I had found my way into her temple of passion.

After a few moments:

“No, my dear Baron, that does not give me any pleasure. Come with me on the sofa.”

I followed her and we enjoyed great delights.

That last night, I must admit, I was quite a man. We emptied the cup of passion seven times.

12. I GRAB THE OPPORTUNITY

I had been abstinent for more than two months when I arrived in Lyon. I really don't know why. I had seen a very pretty female in the hotel where I lived, and I felt very much attracted toward her. She was closer to me than I had known; I found out that our rooms were adjoining, that the wall consisted of very thin wood and, moreover, there was a connecting door. It could not have been more convenient.

After turning out the light one night, I discovered that there was a big knothole in the wall right next to my bed. The lady next door had not extinguished her lamp. I was very curious and peeped through the hole. And look… an exceptionally pretty nude female, standing in front of the mirror, loosening her hairdo.

It would have been impossible for me to stay in bed. The only question that remained to be solved was how to get to my beautiful neighbor.

It was getting late, so I had to make haste. I quickly threw a robe around my shoulders, went out into the corridor, hoping to be able to catch her maidservant. I was lucky; the girl just came out of the room.

“Dearest girl, would it be possible to have a few words with your mistress?”

The girl looked at me in surprise.

“Or is it too late already? But it is very important.”

She returned a few minutes later.

“Madame is expecting you.”

I walked in, made a few excuses and paid a few compliments which she wittily returned and then I confessed to her, as gently as possible, what I had witnessed through my little knothole and I started to describe the impression she had made upon me.

She jumped up and started to talk about infamy and God knows what else.

I took her in my arms. She, too, had thrown a gown over her shoulders, which, as if by accident, started to slip and my hand suddenly cupped her full and firm naked breast.

“Madame, I love you, and could you truly be mad at me only because your magnificent body has made such an indelible impression upon my voluptuous imagination?”

I did not give her a chance to answer. I kissed every sound off her lips and threatened that I would not stop ere she had been fully softened.

She finally started to laugh out loud and declared upon her honor that never had any Frenchman declared his love to her in such a comical way, and just because of the unusual circumstances did she feel inclined to grant me her favors. However, I had to go now, because her servant girl knew that I was in the room with her; but tomorrow…

“I will leave, Madame, and I will be back through here,” (and I took the bolt off the door separating our rooms).

“Just because that happens to be handy, I shall not object.”

She rang and her girl accompanied me to my room, glancing at me, obviously dying to find out what could have been so important as to disturb her mistress in the middle of the night.

Almost immediately, I returned to the delightful French girl. Since we had just met, we could dispense with the ceremonies. She eagerly allowed me to take off her nightshirt and reciprocated every one of my moves with equal grace.

I had never seen such a prominent grotto of passion before. Even while she was standing upright, I could see the red shimmering lips very clearly. The temple itself was very slippery, the entrance was roomy and the god Hymen, guarding that entrance, was larger than I had imagined possible.

I had heard that French women were unusually well lubricated and this one, the first one I ever embraced, surely confirmed this rumor.

The moment I started the battle she became quite restless under me. Now she put one, then the other thigh across my back and then she encircled me with both legs. One moment she was moving ferociously and then, suddenly, she would show resistance and retreat till only the tip of my prick was able to penetrate the entrance. Then, suddenly, she would heave up and I would go in far and deep till the very end. Her hands were everywhere, it seemed, and always busy doing something.

Finally she had reached the point of greatest excitement and she started to blabber incessantly, “Ah!.. I can't any longer! Ah! Ah! I think I'm dying! Ah! Ah! Quick… now… quicker!”

I had difficulty suppressing a smile, but that did not disturb her in the least. She kept up her patter and talked till she finally ran out of words and started to make incoherent sounds.

When I left her that morning, she assured me happily that I was quite a cavalier and could give lessons to some of her countrymen.

It is strange that even in this field the French think that they are superior.

13. A STRANGE INTERLUDE

When I came home that afternoon I heard voices in the room of my beautiful neighbor. Curiosity caused me to peep through the knothole.

I was taken aback when I saw the lady and a gentleman, naked upon the sofa, busily engaged in the act of love. But I was even more surprised when I heard another man's voice:

“Can't you finish, I am burning up!”

It was a strange sight to see those two in action on the sofa. They kept up a witty conversation, performed a thousand little tricks, and finally their bodies sank exhausted back into the pillows.

Almost at the same moment, the other man came into the picture, lifted his friend off her body and took his place.

She: “Let me rest a little bit.”

He: “Impossible, I can't wait.”

And he plunged into her with such force, and labored so quickly, that in no time his body went into convulsions and soon he, too, collapsed in her arms.

My neighbor is a girl of joy, I thought, and I was about to turn away from my peephole when I noticed that number one had recuperated and was girding himself for a second try. When he was finished, the second one resumed his place, and when it was all over, the three enjoyed some refreshments.

Even though the performances I had just witnessed had brought my blood to a boil, it seemed as if I had lost all desire for my charming neighbor. I did not like the idea that she gave herself to two partners simultaneously. Nevertheless, she had not lost one whit of her charm and vivacity; on the contrary, she ribbed the two gentlemen about their waning virility.

Now their pride had been hurt, and both were ready to do it again. Amidst merry laughter they took a pair of dice and rolled them. And then one of them sat down on his hands and knees. Now the woman laid herself down upon his back in such a way that her behind rested on his shoulders. It was a strange sight to see his wig flush with her prominent rosebush. Her love temple was wide open. The other one set himself in position over the lady who embraced him with one arm. The other arm reached below and she took hold of the first man's staff. I had never seen a more ridiculous sight, and this, combined with the panting and groaning and constant line of conversation was so silly that I could not help but burst out laughing.

The gentlemen were ready and the lady berated them because they had not managed to satisfy her.

“If I really want to be satisfied,” I heard her say, “I will have to call on my pompous German next door. Upon my honor, he will put the two of you to shame.”

This awkward compliment saddened me deeply. You will have to punish her, even though it may be a strain on you, I said to myself.

The gentlemen left. I saw her clean and flush herself, and I waited till she had thrown the negligee around her shoulders. I opened the connecting door and walked into her room.

I took my clothes off and grabbed her roughly. She pretended to be in a bad mood and asked me to return that night. But that did not fit into my plans. I did not want to give her a chance to recuperate, and therefore I threw her down upon the sofa, rammed myself into her and despite all her pleading and imploring, I moved as forcefully and as deeply as I could.

She wanted to tear herself away, but I held her firmly in my grip.

“Monsieur, you are a barbarian!”

“Madame, remember, this is your pompous German!”

She remained silent, and I treated her as roughly as I could; she dared not complain about pain, though I knew she was suffering. She clenched her teeth and big tears welled up in her eyes. And when finally my passion started to overflow, I retreated out of her grotto and deposited it on her stomach because I did not want to soothe her with my balm.

She was totally exhausted when I left her on the sofa. I expressed the hope that from now on she would be more careful with her expressions. I left.

14. WE ARE IN PARIS

The only town in the world where sacrifices to the god of love are brought in any form imaginable is Paris. That is a well-known fact, and it is just as well-known that nowhere else in the world has the art of love reached a perfection as well-developed as here.

Everyone makes love. Women and girls from highest rank to the lowest classes think the slightest objection ridiculous when the object is to give satisfaction to their lovers. And it is only too well-known to what aberrations they will go here; it is not necessary to mention all these things and I can therefore stick to my own personal experiences. And I do have a few things to tell you. I had access to various high-ranking homes through letters of introduction, and my humble person was first fully appreciated by the Marquise B.

I had been very attentive to her and now I could only hope. But I had not expected that the fulfillment of my wishes would be approaching as quickly as it did. One morning, around eleven, I received a message from the Marquise, announcing that she would not be at home for anyone except me, if I were inclined to honor her with a visit.

I put on a costume of the latest fashion, one which a Parisian tailor had fashioned for me while talking and lecturing like a university professor, assuring me that no one, but no one, would ever be able to discern that I was not a born Frenchman. Now I hurried swiftly to the home of my Marquise.

I could enter unannounced, I was told by her servant, and before I knew it I was in her room and about to recite a well-turned compliment when I noticed that my adored one was lying on the couch, apparently asleep.

Aha, I thought, I can start right now, freely and without any shame.

Her position was one of the most voluptuous, and her gown was so sheer that I could easily see every muscle of her beautiful body. She was of an average size, neither too heavy nor too skinny and of a very regular build. Her breasts were, as with all French women, round and full and possibly a little bit larger than normal.

I stood there for a moment, deliberating how I should approach the situation. Without too much ado is the most important thing. I put my right arm under the hollow of her back, pressed my lips softly against her half-open mouth and my tongue started probing for hers.

She pretended to be sound asleep and dreaming, and when my kisses became more ardent and insistent she feigned to awaken with a start.

“My dear sir, who gave you permission for such liberties?”

“Time, place, opportunity, beauty and irresistible charm, oh most beautiful of all ladies; I will submit to any punishment you may desire. Only, I beg of you, do not desire my banishment.”

She smiled, and I kissed her.

“Who would expect so much audacity from a German? Usually your people are so undetermined.”

“Now, beautiful Marquise, down to business; will I be so fortunate to have gained your love?”

“The way in which you acted I would have never guessed that this question could enter your mind. You betray the German in you, which would have never been known through your actions. If a lady lets it be known that she is home only for you, then…”

I did not let her finish the sentence, but threw myself in her arms and smothered her with kisses. Soon my hand was in Venus' sanctuary which seemed to be extremely sensitive. I became very hot and jumped up to take off my clothes. I also undressed my fair Marquise. She gazed upon my prick with visible pleasure and anticipation, played and toyed with it, assuring me that it had an honest face and upright demeanor.

We were soon in a passionate embrace and my staff was firmly embedded in a very voluptuous and warm grip.

“Oh, how you glow! Be sure not to end our pleasures too quickly.”

“The fault would lie entirely with your enchanting charms, though I am equally sure that those same charms would make it possible to quickly excite new passions and resume our pleasure.”

And really, I noticed that the voluptuous warmth of her grotto caused me to reach my moment of decision much quicker than usual. It did not take long ere my love received a copious flow of my life's nectar.

The moment she felt it, she clamped herself against me, nibbled my lips and rolled her eyes in voluptuous delight. It had been quite a long time since I had experienced such a delicious and ecstatic swoon. Was it the incredible charm of my Marquise, or was it the manner in which her voluptuous passion pit held me in its grip? I truly do not know.

The limpness of my rod was barely noticeable; it stayed in its position of readiness and refused to slip out of its comfortable pleasure nest. The Marquise showed surprise about this, and her soft and tingling caresses fanned my flames of passion anew.

“Oh, my dearest Baron, I had never thought that joys like this would be possible.”

Kissing her tenderly, I started a slow and deliberate motion. But as soon as she noticed that my prick was more than ready and able, she took a firm hold on my buttocks and started to slide up and down, back and forth, with incredible smoothness.

Her glazing eyes, her deep red blush, her quivering lips, her gasping breath, and the spasms that jerked every muscle of her lovely body, told me that she was about to reach the sensation of extreme pleasure.

I slipped my hands under her buttocks, and my fingers toyed around the cleavage, putting gentle pressure on that other entrance. I tried to increase her pleasure as much as I possibly could.

Her fountain started to run; she grasped me by the neck, and her voice broke when she begged me to hold still. Incredible delight flowed through my veins when her passion juices gently bathed my staff.

It made me so passionate that I was no longer capable of containing myself and we started again to play love's most rigorous game with renewed vigor. The goddess of love must have looked upon our efforts with great favor, because we emptied the cup of passion and ecstasy for the third time, together.

We dressed. The Marquise was loath to let me out of her arms.

“The day after tomorrow I will spend the night in my petite maison in the suburb. We can go there together; you can ride with me.” ' Undoubtedly my readers will know what a petite maison in Paris is all about, and therefore I will tell you next how we sported in those delightful surroundings.

15. I FEEL EXTREMELY COMFORTABLE

My readers know where we went. At nightfall she sent all the servants home, except for one old woman. We whiled away several pleasant hours with idle talk and dallying, and then she invited me to go into the little side room where I would receive my instructions. I met the old woman there who, while paying me many a flattering compliment about my physique, proceeded to undress me. She oiled my hair, braided a wreath of flowers around my brow, and rubbed my body all over with fine-smelling, invigorating water. The old woman was an inexhaustible talker, and she did not stop massaging me. Occasionally she would bend down and kiss my prick, at the same time complimenting me, saying that she had never before seen such an exquisitely well-formed and extremely well-developed specimen. She assured me by everything that was holy that she was speaking the gospel truth. She only wished that she were about thirty years younger.

I jokingly told her that, if she allowed me, it would be my pleasure to visit her, and that if I could be of any service to her, I would consider it a delightful duty.

She was going to remind me of this promise, she said, and she hoped that, being an honorable man, I would not break my given word to her.

She now opened the door to another room. I was blinded by the beauty of what I saw. It seemed as if I had been transported to a fairytale castle. I stood in the most beautiful copse. The trees had been copied from nature in such perfection that I was wondering whether art could really create greater beauty than nature. The walls had been painted so superbly that it seemed as if I were looking through the forest and in the distance I could see the sun throwing its last rays across the horizon. Could it be real? The heavenly sphere of stars on the ceiling and the full moon were the only sources of light. They had a magical effect. A zephyr blew through the leaves and filled the area with a wonderful aroma. I stood as if nailed to the floor and happiness flowed through me when suddenly a nightingale began her melting song.

I finally dared to walk through the door. I cannot tell you how I felt when I saw, next to a fountain, on top of a green hill, under the shade of an enormous tree, the most beautiful female figure in paradise, without the fig leaf, sleeping lightly.

I came closer; she awoke, stretched her arms toward me and pulled me down on the soft, resilient upholstery next to her.

“Did Daphne's abode surprise you?”

“Most beautiful Marquise…”

“Hush… I am now Daphne, awaiting Apollo.”

The surprise had made too great an impression upon me, and I was incapable of expressing my admiration, and even less my sudden happiness.

I could not tear my eyes away from the lovely Daphne. Long dark hair framed her beautiful face and fell down upon her beautiful bosom, inviting me to voluptuous delights. The whiteness of her enchanting body, the whole form and position, the place itself, and the cozy darkness… all this would have been enough to warm up a marble statue.

I felt the burning fire within me, threw myself upon her, embraced her passionately and guided god Amour into the hall of coronation. She received me with utmost compassion. I heard a whispering sound and when I looked up I saw the branches of the tree close over our heads.

What a heavenly surprise!

We had barely started the battle of our sexes when two flutes sounded a lingering melody, making perfect music.

My sensations had reached the ultimate.

She was cooing voluptuously in my arms, proving to me how happy we were. The flutes fell silent and we emptied the cup of passion together. We then sank exhausted to the floor and into a short, but deep slumber. After a while, my darling Daphne said:

“Shall we get up and refresh ourselves, dear Baron?”

A flick of the wrist from my Marquise, and the beautiful copse no longer existed. We got up and walked into a well-lit grotto, where we found refreshments. A voluptuous-looking sofa invited us to sit down and we revived our flagging spirits with good wine and passionate flirtations. Who could not, in the company of such an enchanting woman, give reign to his passions?

Soon I was back in Daphne's arms, sucking passion off her rosebud lips. Amour went through the entrance of Venus' temple, kissed Hymen fleetingly and ran back to the exit to find out if he would be followed. Suddenly Daphne lifted her voluptuous behind and Amour was entwined in Hymen's arms ere he could think of fleeing. Now they united for pleasure with soft flowing waves of passion till they threw themselves in the sea of love and cooled their burning feelings. The clock struck twelve and the two flutes sang a lovely adagio.

Daphne led me toward the voluptuous-looking bed. Arm in arm, chest against bosom, lips upon lips, we sank down into the warm embrace of the goose down. New feelings warmed our bodies; we desired fulfillment as if it were the first time we embraced each other. We tried everything that could sweeten our delights even more. We became very passionately heated, a voluptuous atmosphere surrounded us, little pearls of sweat made our bodies slippery. We lost all sense of time and became unable to speak. Soft groans emanated from our lips; we fell into a dizzying whirl of passion and tumbled into the arms of the god of sleep.

Excuse me, dearest and passionate Glossen, beautiful and desirable Flamman, I have known intense satisfaction in your embraces, but my Daphne was far superior. Everything that could possibly excite the senses, increase the charm and bring out the passion was united in her person. She knew how to make the slightest caress become an intensely strong charge for the voluptuous nerves which demand an instant release from tension.

The newborn day awakened us. We rushed from the arms of sleep into the arms of love, and we were the happiest of all mortals.

I remained in Paris for almost a full year. My relationship with the Marquise remained uninterrupted and our last embrace was as passionate, as tender and as rewarding as our first one had been. My Marquise was inconsolable at my departure.

16. WHO COULD HAVE BELIEVED THAT SHE WAS SERIOUS?

One morning while I was still in bed, my servant announced that there was a female outside who insisted that she had to see me.

“Who is she?”

“I don't know, and she does not want to tell me, either. I suppose…”

“Well, speak up… what do you suppose?”

“I suppose that she carries one of those secret messages; Lord knows from what beautiful lady.”

“You really think so? And what if she had something in mind, herself?”

“Oh, no, she is too old for that. She looks as if she has at least half a century behind her.”

“If I wait any longer, you are going to try to become funny. Ask the lady to enter.”

It was the old woman who worked for my Marquise.

This is going to be an invitation, I thought to myself.

“Dear sir, not too long ago you were so friendly as to give me permission to visit you. And here I am.”

“I am overjoyed…”

I was very surprised, not overjoyed at all. Was she serious? I could hardly suppress a smile.

But she was dead serious! She sat down on my bed and she was as loving and tender as a German girl of sixteen. She finally laid herself down on top of me, kissed me, went with her hand under the blanket and suddenly grabbed my prick.

“Oh, the charming, pretty boy! How beautiful he is!”

Her eyes shone with passion.

For better or worse, it is different, I thought. I got up, bolted the door and carried her to the sofa.

My servant had definitely not been wrong about her age. I was quite surprised that her thighs were so round and firm. Her love bush had suffered from the years, but I am equally as sure that it had weathered many a storm and survived many a flooding. The entrance to the temple was exceedingly roomy and many a pilgrimage had worn down the steps. It almost looked like a small valley.

Surely not much of a charm, but a promise is a promise. I took up my position and discharged my honor as well as I possibly could. It really became something of a sport to find out how many positions we could take up, and it was amusing to see the contortions she went through in order to fan the fire of my passions. And at that, I must admit, she succeeded.

When I finally emptied my nectar into her I had the distinct impression that she became furious. She knew how to squeeze my rod, and it came out of that battle severely bruised.

My dear young reader, it is definitely not a blessing for your body when fate directs you to the altar of an elderly woman. You lose without even gaining the smallest compensation. On the contrary, it is twice as hard on you with one fifty-year-old matron as it is with three twenty-year-old females. The former is no longer capable of surrounding her body with that certain voluptuous atmosphere out of which your own body gathers its renewed strength and vigor. You are the only one who supplies that atmosphere, and the elderly woman draws from it and warms herself on your passion and fire; your spent passion makes her temporarily stronger, but it weakens you. One might compare an older woman with a sponge: she soaks in and swells up, but does not give out anything.

And, if you want to be convinced, look around you. Look at those young men who have married elderly women. You can see for yourself how weak and miserable those wretched young bucks are. On the other hand, many an old rake who has a young girl for a wife is still vigorous and happy and, I would almost say, full of youth. That is because his strength and vigor increase through the embraces with a young and lusty woman, and he himself finds his youth again.

17. GERMAN WOMEN ARE NOT THAT COOPERATIVE

“Would you please do me a tremendous favor, my dearest Baron,” asked my Marquise one night, with an innocent smile on her tender face.

“Your merest wish is my command.”

“As you know, we are going to have supper with the Duchess tomorrow. You would do me a personal favor if you would be as nice and attentive as possible to her.”

“And if I be permitted, may I take the liberty of asking you why?”

(She smiled): “Have you been blind? Didn't you notice that she is terribly in love with you? She has complained to me about your coldness.”

“Only, my dear Marquise, because I have the good fortune of knowing you, and knowing you so well.”

“A Frenchman thinks differently about such things; he bestows favors upon every lady.”

“The Germans, to the contrary, would call that philandering.”

“But you are in France now, and the Duchess is one of my best friends and, therefore, I would consider it a personal favor if you would show some intense interest in her… let's say for one month. And I hope that then you will return to these arms, the ones that now embrace you so firmly.”

“And, what will her opinion of me be when I suddenly break off our relationship.”

“Oh, she will call you mean and dastardly, and she will swear a holy oath that you must be a true Frenchman from both your father's and your mother's side of the family.”

“I prefer to stay with you.”

“No, my dear Baron, I have assured the Duchess that she was uppermost in your thoughts, that, however, the inborn shyness for women which is so typical of you Germans has prevented you from declaring your undying love for her. And I also promised her…”

“I am losing too much, oh beautiful Marquise.”

“If that is true then your return to me should be of so much more value to both of us.”

I had to promise her.

The Duchess was in every respect a very charming and beautiful woman: young and flowering, well-fed, and her eyes were full of passionate fire.

During supper I sat at her side. Her dress was incredibly voluptuous. Her milky globes veritably foamed right out of the top of her daring gown. I recited every single one of my compliments and watched closely as to the effect of them upon her countenance. At about the same time, and as if entirely by accident, I pushed with my knee against her thigh while I turned toward her. She squeezed back softly and a deep red blush covered her face. Thereupon I caressed her well-formed thigh with my hand, found a little opening in her skirt, pulled up her underskirt and proceeded to rub the velvety skin on her inner thigh. I would have loved to explore Venus' temple itself, but it was very difficult to do without attracting the attention of the others.

There were many people at the dinner party, and after dinner we played a game of cards. A heavyset abbot was the bank, and the Duchess proposed that she, the Marquise and I would play a game. When we sat down she fanned herself and complained about the unbearable temperature. The Marquise nodded at me almost imperceptibly, and I gallantly proposed to escort the Duchess to a cooler room where she could get some fresh air. She accepted my proposal eagerly. We sat down upon a sofa. After a few exploratory hand kisses, I threw my arms around her neck, kissed her rosebud lips, and toyed with the immense globes.

“That is not very conducive to cooling off, my dear Baron!”

I therefore laid her down and slipped my hand under her skirt. The fountain in her love copse was foaming to the brim and the Duchess licked her lips when my fingers touched the entrance. Her breathing became labored and her eyes were sparkling with desire.

I made myself comfortable and put my prick at the entrance of her temple of passion. She had become so passionate and swollen that I had to employ a little force in order to achieve entry. She received her favorite guest with a voluptuous cooing and jumped for joy under me at such a fantastic speed that she emptied the cup of passion ere I had a chance to do much of anything. It seemed as if she was about to lose all self-control; her breasts looked like stormy waves.

She kept on groaning and moaning, and she lifted the altar of Venus higher and higher. She became wilder and was veritably thrashing. When I spent, a stream tore forth from her fountain and the entire copse was drenched in flood waves.

Satisfied and happy, we returned to the party, and it was not till two o'clock that we parted.

18. MORNING VISIT

The next morning I paid my respects to the Duchess. She was home for no one but me. She was also still in bed.

I took off the coverlet. She embraced me passionately and kissed me feverishly.

“Are we safe from intrusion, my goddess of love?”

“Nobody enters without my specific instructions.”

I undressed, then took off her nightgown.

I started to feel her beautiful body. She became so passionate and full of desire that her eyes glazed over and even the lips of her temple quivered.

I guided my prick into her sanctuary; she received me with a jubilant outcry and threw her legs around my body, moving so rapidly and with so much force that her fountain started to overflow before I had reached bottom.

After she had quieted down somewhat, I decided to double my efforts. She was nothing but passionate feeling. I put my hands under her fleshy buttocks and let my fingers play around in the cleft. This only increased her desire and she lost almost all self-control. Every part of her body quivered voluptuously and her breathing was a tremulous sigh. A passionate fragrance engulfed us. As soon as I emptied my sacrifice upon her altar, she lost all motion; I could only feel life deep inside her sanctuary where the fountain was still bubbling.

My pleasure was very great; the only thing missing was the nerve-shattering sensation which I experienced when I was with my Marquise. The Duchess was too passionate and too wild, and therefore incapable of bringing me to the utmost. After a short moment of recuperation she called again for renewed battle; her desire knew not of tiring.

I was overjoyed when I could return to my Marquise to find satisfaction and rest in her loving embrace.

19. A REPAST FOR THE GODS

One of my best friends was a French baron and through him I made many acquaintances and various beautiful and remarkable conquests. I will not go into details about the latter because I would have to keep repeating myself. But I must make one general remark. I have noticed that French ladies are much prettier and smaller built and far more convenient for making love than their German counterparts. They also understand the art of bringing out their most desirable qualities and they know how to give exquisite pleasure better than their German cousins.

But now I want to tell you about an extraordinary dinner party to which the baron had invited me and two other friends at his petite maison.

He led us into a large well-lit room, hung with tapestries and carpeted with large upholstered pillows. From the adjoining room harmonious music wafted into our ears. We drank a few glasses of wine and our host invited us into yet another room where we were to divest ourselves of our clothes and put on a domino mask. We thereupon went back to the large room and sat down upon the pillows.

Six nude girls, carrying baskets filled with delicacies, entered, wearing flower garlands. We ate and drank and quipped, accompanied by the harmonious music. The girls sang a beautiful song about love and passion and they executed a voluptuous pantomime. I never saw anything more charming and exciting in all my life than that dance.

After the dance the girls lay down in a circle; we threw off our masks and mixed amongst them. My quill is too dull to describe in detail all the voluptuous games that went on.

Two of us tried to get in one and the same girl whose entire body seemed to exist only for voluptuous dallying. She fled but was pursued. She stumbled over a pillow and the one who was quick enough to catch her immediately lifted her behind and guided his prick into her passion pit. The other who had missed out grabbed lustfully for another girl but he sacrificed his balsam on the floor before he had time to enter her temple. My host had lots of fun and he asked me if I did not see anything to satisfy my lusts.

Right in the beginning I had found one girl whose soft and shy demeanor had attracted me greatly. As soon as my host saw that I was about to embrace her, he too took a girl and laid her down in position. We had barely started our battle when the two remaining girls started to become very aggressive. They tried to separate the hunters from their quarries and they also treated our backsides rather harshly. One of them was especially bold.

The girl under me was extremely sensitive and she soon emptied her cup of passion. When the bold one finally got around to hit me, I was prepared for it. I turned around, grabbed her and laid her on the floor. The entrance to her passion pit was very narrow and too small for my staff. I also had grabbed and penetrated her too quickly and unexpectedly. The poor thing screamed out loud and begged for mercy. This was cause for great hilarity among the others. However, in the end she was very satisfied with me.

My readers may think whatever they want, but these excesses of voluptuousness and debauchery were too much for me, and therefore, I will end my chapter here.

20. I AM IN LONDON

I had been in London for three months already, and still I had not made one single victory among the English ladies I had met. My self-esteem was insulted. I doubled my efforts, but the cold looks and the immaculately cool behavior of my objects prevented me from doing anything at all.

A beautiful English female is worthy of the greatest admiration, but she leaves the heart empty. Not having found any satisfaction for such a long time made me very moody and cantankerous. I complained about my plight to a friend.

“That is easy to allay,” he said. “We will drive into town and, if you so desire, we can have dinner tomorrow night and dally to our heart's content with first-class ladies, depending on how much you are willing to spend.”

“What do you mean?”

“We order a dinner for twenty pounds and we have a girl of the lower classes, or, we order one for one hundred and our company will be a lady of the finest standing.”

I accepted his proposal and the next night we went into town. The presence of two delicious ladies with beautiful and gracious looks had been taken care of. We ate and drank and then repaired to an adjoining cabinet for amorous dalliance and to gorge ourselves with passion.

I wasted time with all sorts of foreplay. She did, indeed, reciprocate, but the French manner was lacking completely. I proceeded to undress her and found that her body was excitingly well formed. She finally began to warm up. I laid her on the bed and placed myself on top of her, guiding god Amour into the temple of passion. I moved and she lay still; I kissed her fervently and frequently and I practically begged her to reciprocate my movements. She did not seem to understand what I wanted. We finally emptied the cup of passion but without the giddying ecstasy which makes it so worthwhile. My paramour showed me her satisfaction by becoming a little bit more alive the second time around. However, real voluptuous ecstasy was sadly lacking.

Before we went back into the dining room, the lady inquired about my name and address. We spent another hour with pleasant conversation, then parted.

A certain Mistress Glasser allowed me to pay her my compliments from time to time and I would be unfair to her if I did not admit that I spent some passionate hours in her arms, though she never allowed me to view her beautiful nude body. Her love for me was strong, passionate and intense. The reason she broke off our affair was because she had seen me drive around with Lady Betty.

One day, when I was about to drive away, my servant handed me a small, scented note. I opened it and read:

“If you allow your carriage to stop in front of my hotel at L- Street around 4 o'clock this afternoon, I will be waiting for you.”

“Who is this?”

“Why, Lady Betty, sir.”

Lady Betty, I thought. None of my acquaintances had that name.

I drove off, stopped at the hotel, was led into a beautiful room, and soon Lady Betty entered.

I was surprised to recognize my beautiful paramour.

She noticed my surprise and assured me in the most charming manner that an irrepressible desire to see me again had caused her to make herself known to me. I pulled her down with me on the sofa and tried every conceivable means to get her passions inflamed. She took me into a bedroom; I undressed her and rubbed her buttocks with a fine woolen cloth till they turned red. The lips of her temple became engorged, her snow-white bosom heaved, her lips quivered and her eyes became very dark and languid.

She admitted that she had never felt such a devouring fire inside her passion pit in all her life and when I laid her down, guiding my prick to its goal, her hips thrashed in the motions for which I had begged so unsuccessfully at our first meeting. It increased my pleasure enormously. With true ecstasy we floated through the clouds of passion.

Lady Betty, too, loved strongly, with passion and intensity. It is very pleasant to see an English woman who is in love. The great and noble way in which they love inspires awe. If you feel like embracing the French girl, you feel like kneeling before the English one. She gives herself either without reserve and restriction, or she does not give herself at all, and she would rather do away with herself than submit to a lover of whose infidelity she is convinced. And if she is sure of infidelity her worst punishment is utter disdain; and an English girl is very seldom carried away by thoughts for revenge. And her soul is too noble to think first and foremost about the possibility of deceit; if she becomes suspicious, she will first investigate before accusing, and if she is satisfied, one way or the other, she will act accordingly. I have been told that an English girl gone astray surpasses anything the imagination might conjure in regards to debauchery. Personally I have never met such a girl.

For a while I visited a young female, a girl of pleasure, and I can assure you that her behavior and demeanor could set an example for many a well-born and noble lady. She guided the conversation with wit, taste and spirit. And everybody who from time to time might taste her highest favor considered himself very lucky. One might say that she only made one lover at a time the happiest man in England.

Shortly before my departure from London, I asked her jokingly if it would not be possible that I could brag in Germany about having tasted the favors of England's most beautiful woman and that I had embraced one whose charms would pale those of the famous Lais of Corinth.

“Sir,” she answered, “if you knew Lais of Corinth as well as I do, then you should be the first one to know that you have said too much. I am a poor girl. I do not even possess her tenderness, let alone her other qualities. But if you believe that you can find pleasure with me, you are invited for tomorrow night.”

That next night my mistress guided me into the sacred halls of love, a room that breathed voluptuousness and passion. Everything one saw or felt was designed to stir even greater passions. Soon she stood before me like Venus arising out of the sea. I looked at her with surprised delight and closed her into my arms. And in her embrace I found the female created to love and experienced everything which a mortal could possibly experience in love's intimate embrace.

21. A SMALL ANECDOTE

I had seen in the home in which I lived one of the most beautiful females, one who seemed to have everything a beautiful Roman girl should have. One night when I was in bed, thinking about this gorgeous female, I suddenly heard an incredible noise downstairs. I rushed out of my bed, opened the door and a half dead girl flung herself into my arms. I quickly closed the door again and carried my unconscious beauty to the bed. It was she! I dressed, saw to it that I could properly defend myself, left my room, locking the door from the outside, and ran downstairs.

“She has escaped,” the landlord said. “Your trouble is in vain.”

A young man, his eyes burning, grabbed me by the arm. “Get my sister back to me immediately, or else…”

The noise started all over again, and I could make neither head nor tail out of the whole affair. Suddenly someone walked up to the furious young man, whispered something into his ear, and everybody suddenly fled out of the front door.

I asked the landlord for clarification.

“A young girl who has lived here for several days now is being followed by them. I don't know why. But it seems she has escaped.”

I ran back to my room. The girl had come to herself, but she turned snow-white when she saw that I was armed.

“Be quiet, beautiful lady,” I said. “You are safe. Command me what you want me to do next.”

She told me that she was the daughter of a Florentine merchant, that she had been abducted from her home which she had left to go to the theater, that she had finally succeeded in fleeing from her abductors, but to her horror she had been discovered again by them.

“And who is the foul robber?”

She gave me the name of a well-known Marquis.

A strange story, but being in Italy, it could very well endanger my life. Meanwhile I had decided to restore the daughter to her parents.

“But, my beautiful girl, even though you are safe now, I doubt whether it is wise to stay in this house.”

“Save me, in whichever way you think best.”

“I will be honored to do that. However, dearest girl, you need to rest and, unfortunately, I have only one bed.”

“There are chairs.”

“Oh, no, I want to be very sure that you are safe, even when sleeping.”

I kissed her and she cast down her eyes in shame.

“I was very foolish, dear sir, to seek safety in your chambers. But yesterday I decided to tell you about my troubles, because you gave me confidence. Could it be possible that my judgment has made so serious a mistake?”

“No, no, my beauty. But when I tell you that I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, what is your answer then?”

(Shrugging her shoulders): “I am at your mercy.”

“Beautiful and gracious darling… ask your heart. It must be out of free will that you consent to happiness in my embraces. If not, I swear to you upon my honor that I will not touch you except for a few harmless kisses.”

“Could you do that? I mean, you would be a saving angel.”

I promised her, and after a long talk I managed to get her to bed. I helped undress her and assured her that it was incredibly hard for me to know so many charms were near me without the possibility of enjoying them.

I made a bed out of clothes and laundry on the floor for myself, lay down upon it, covering myself with an overcoat, and soon I slept peacefully.

It was almost noon when I woke up. I went into the bedroom and stood near the bed. What a beautiful sight! Her face looked like that of an angel. I sat down, not daring to kiss her rosebud lips lest I awaken and frighten her.

She woke up and a pink blush reddened her face; her beautiful eyes looked at me fondly. I took her hand and kissed her cheek. A deep shudder went through me when she returned the kiss.

“Oh, noble man,” she sighed, “I was so apprehensive when I went to sleep, and I feel so secure now that I am awakening.”

“And I will do whatever is in my power so that you may awaken every day as safely as you did today.”

She finally allowed me to be present while she was dressing and making her toilette, and she even accepted my assistance.

We decided that she would travel to Florence in men's clothing, and with the help of my servant, we succeeded in getting everything in order by the next day. I have never traveled more pleasantly than with this 'signer.' A true Adonis whom I could never kiss and caress too much.

The moment we arrived in Florence, I went to Signor Battioli's home. The family was still mourning about the loss of their daughter. After a few banalities had been exchanged, I mentioned offhandedly that I had just contracted the services of a young Italian manservant who had told me something about a young signorina being abducted from Florence.

They instantly begged me to summon this young man, and I wrote a hasty note. My beautiful traveling companion arrived soon thereafter, but 'he' was too weak to play 'his' role well; the moment 'he' entered, 'he' fell into 'his' mother's arms.

22. THE REMAINDER IN ONE CHAPTER

From my own experience I would say that Italian women are very lascivious. Their temperaments are passionate, hot, and very often insatiable. Their entire bodies seem to have one purpose only, namely the pursuit of voluptuous pleasures. I am sure that such debauchery exists nowhere else in Europe.

It is not at all difficult to make conquests but it is far more demanding to satisfy them and one has to be extremely careful with the breaking of a relationship without any dangerous results.

The Battioli family insisted on a prolonged stay in Florence and their hospitality knew no bounds. Her father had always refused her permission to marry but in the joy of having found his daughter safe and unharmed he now granted her deepest wish. Young Vargendo practically smothered me amidst thousands of thank-yous and other praises, because thanks to me he could lead his bride to the altar while she was still a virgin.

The newlywed Madame Vargendo came to my room one afternoon. She looked as lovely as the dawn and she wore a simple white dress.

“Beautiful Madame Vargendo, your visit is an honor to me.”

“I came here to thank you, though I deserve your scorn; can you please forgive me?”

“My scorn? And why?”

“My husband has thanked you. I must tell you that he considers you a demigod for having delivered me to him untouched. He was very apprehensive when we went into the bridal bed and…”

“Why do you hesitate, my dear?”

“My husband is right when he says I would not entrust him with a woman.”

“Maybe he is wrong.”

“No, he is not. I would not want to make another trip with you.”

“And why not?”

“It's very simple, really. If I had not liked your attentions, I would have resisted. And if I had resisted you would have doubled your attentions.”

“Unforgettable Vargendo.”

I took her in my arms and kissed her tenderly.

She answered my kisses with fire.

“You are right, my dear. In this manner, restraint would be impossible to ask from me.”

“Isn't it? My dearest Baron, I love you and I would have given in to your endearments long ago if it were not for the fact that my bridegroom… you know what I mean.”

“And if I were to implore you now about reciprocating my love for you?”

“If I didn't, I would not have deserved being saved by you.”

I pulled her down with me on the sofa and my hand reached the temple of her love without any obstacles. The very lips seemed to breathe passion.

We emptied the cup of passion three times, each time with as much pleasure and delight as the previous one. I assure you that my whole being has very seldom experienced so many ecstatic delights.

However, it was Signora Dievelli who gave me a taste of what a truly voluptuous Italian woman is like. One night, a little old woman picked me up from my home around midnight and delivered me-Lord knows after how many dark stairways, corridors and portals — into a beautifully decorated room. Finally, a masked lady, dressed in a floor-length cloak entered, sat down next to me and talked about the enormous risk she took and the enormous risk I was about to take if I could not keep a secret. Meanwhile, because of her love for me, she would not drop her mask till she had received from me the strongest reassurances possible as to my secrecy, because she loved me too passionately and would rather burn in her own passion than endanger my life in any form or manner.

Since I had already gone this far, I saw no reason why I should not give her those hotly desired assurances.

She dropped her mask and the cloak slid down to the floor. An incredible beauty stood before me. I was so dumbfounded that I could not move and I just stood there while she walked up to me, embraced me and pressed a voluptuous kiss upon my lips. I encircled her beautiful body and felt voluptuous ripples go up and down her spine.

I took off her clothes and was agape with admiration. She had by far the most beautiful body I had ever seen. I let my face rest upon her heaving bosom. She played with my hair and kissed my forehead. Her breath was voluptuous. Every single one of her movements was voluptuous. Every muscle in her body stretched voluptuously and beckoned me toward her. We stretched out upon the soft bed; she held me floatingly even before my prick had touched the entrance of her grotto. She embraced me fiercely, groaned and sighed and her eyes glazed voluptuously when she felt the god of love. She received him with a joyful quiver; her entire body took on a rose-colored blush and as soon as she felt the approach of the sacrifice she stemmed herself on hands and feet and held me floating. My staff emptied his vessel and she groaned lightly. Her movements be-came convulsive and when her fountain of passion opened it flooded down in great gusts.

We took our time recuperating, then got up and had some refreshments. I could not get enough of seeing, feeling and exploring her marvelous body. I kissed, fondled and caressed it. She rewarded every one of my touches with an outburst of passion. I sat on a chair and she stood next to me; I played with her Venus mound and the curls of the surrounding bushes. Both shores of her passion river were high, and a gleaming pink framed them. The god Hymen stood at the entrance, longing.

My signora curled her arms around my neck, kissed me, nibbled my lips and sucked my tongue and ere I knew what was happening, she sat on my lap and pressed her full bosom against my chest. I lifted myself a little and my staff visited Hymen. They barely touched each other when she started to jump up and down in my lap; her full milky globes gamboled like spring lambs in the meadow; she groaned, quivered, closed her eyes, and finally collapsed, her head lolling on my shoulders.

“Oooh… I can't anymore!”

And a quick burst flowed out of her fountain.

I struggled out of the chair, carrying her to the bed where I ascended the throne of love. I guided my prick into its proper place, crossed her legs behind my back, lifted her buttocks, played with my fingers in her cleft and started the battle all over again.

My sweet signora closed her eyes, her breathing changed into a wild choking sound, and when I sacrificed my life's juice, a marvelous fragrance exuded from her body, headier than the finest wine.

We savored the same pleasure with as much intensity another four times, the highest pleasures of mortals, ere we drifted off into the arms of Morpheus. It seemed as if we gained strength after each encounter rather than losing it. The burning, passionate fire was finally extinguished.

My entire stay in Florence became doubly pleasant because of my affair with this woman and we never were together anywhere without bringing at least one sacrifice to the goddess of love. She was of a very passionate nature and even if the place happened to be uncomfortable, she was inventive enough to find a position or a new twist so that our pleasures were in no way diminished.

Once we were in the theater, the contents of the play had inflamed her imagination. I sat next to her, noticed her heaving bosom and went with my hand under her skirt. No resistance. On the contrary, she got up and made it possible for my voluptuous hand to stray wherever it wanted. When the act was over and the music started, she pulled the curtains of the loge down, stemmed one foot on a chair, and, amidst the jubilant tones of the orchestra, we brought our delicious sacrifice to Venus.

I don't want to bore you, dear reader, with the details of my trips to Venice, Naples, and Rome. All my acquaintanceships were fleeting, and mostly of similar nature. But one thing I firmly believe and that is that either the climate or the voluptuous nature of the women must contribute to the fact that the more voluptuous sacrifices brought at the altar of love and passion, the greater the desire and the greater the strength to do it.

Weakening and loss of vigor as in the North is unknown.

BOOK FOUR

1. A REVIEW OF SEVERAL YEARS

I returned to Blassenheim and my father himself was there to receive me. The joy of our meeting was great. I showed him the plans I had made to beautify my future home and he liked my ideas very much. I left the managerial duties to Balthasar and visited Frau von Glossen for a pleasurable week. She was still an admirable woman.

Thereafter I visited various German courts and kissed the hands of many a lady, but I no longer had any desire to get more intimately acquainted with them. And even if I found myself now and then in the embraces of some lady, I realized that it was only lust and not love and it felt as if I was taking food without the pleasure of the spices.

I had one pleasant adventure when I stopped off in a neighboring town. I lived on the third floor of the city's best hotel and one night, before going to bed, I decided to take a little stroll. Upon returning I wandered into the wrong room and, without noticing my mistake, I undressed and went to bed. Somewhat later the door opened again and two young women came in, accompanied by their chambermaid.

The bed curtains were drawn and my nightgown was still on top of the blanket. I was very quiet and waited, full of anticipation. The chambermaid helped both young ladies undress and the girls were talking about the uncle they had planned to visit but it seemed that the gentleman had not been home.

I would have liked to cover myself up or put something on in order not to scare the young ladies, but any noise might have disturbed them. The maid left to make some tea, and I was alone with two lovely young ladies.

“Dear Julie, I really liked the major best; he was so very virile and he had such a handsome face. I must admit that it took my breath away when he kissed my hand.”

“Yes, he was a rather nice man, but Freda, the captain with the incredible hawk nose, did you notice his fierce mien and his fiery eye?”

Everybody they had seen passed the review and was judged. Rose, after she had served the tea, was dismissed to her own room. And now the girls walked, arm in arm, up and down their room, telling each other about the effect the various personages had had upon their feelings. Even the well-rounded thighs and well-filled breeches were not forgotten.

Finally the two dear girls disrobed completely; my eyes feasted upon a very interesting and unusual sight. The girls kissed each other, pressed their milky globes against each other and rubbed their passion pits together. Kisses, mixed with sighs, sounded throughout the room and they held each other in tight embrace. I became very warm watching this scene. They sank down upon the couch, each holding a finger in the other's voluptuous grotto. They moved frantically until they finally collapsed, one on top of the other. I lifted my head and the bed curtains rustled. They were both very startled. I realized that I was about to be discovered anyway, so I made a little bit more noise. The girls seemed paralyzed. I threw off the covers, opened the curtains and stepped out of my bed. They screamed out loudly and fainted.

I tried everything in my power to revive them. Finally, Julie was the first to open her eyes.

“Excuse me, dear young lady, a fortunate mistake made me walk into your open room.”

She closed her eyes and her face turned blood red.

“Please leave us, sir…”

“That would be too terrible, dear girl.”

Freda slowly recuperated from her shock. She opened her eyes and when she saw that I held Julie in my arms, she fled into the bed. Both girls insisted that I should leave the room at once. Julie tried to twist herself out of my arms; I carried her to the bed, and after some slight arguments I was lying in between them and held an adorable little girl in each arm. After some initial shyness, they both soon returned my small attentions and kisses.

“The little games of love are very pleasant, my beautiful nymphets, but very unsatisfactory since they demand greater delights. I hope the two of you can agree as to who will receive the first sacrifice today and who will get the second one tomorrow.”

The girls each denied that they wanted to be the first but, nevertheless, they both snuggled up to me closer. I got up and looked around for a piece of paper to tear into two strips, one longer than the other.

“Pull, my beauties, the longest one has first rights.”

Freda got it, but she insisted that Julie would take it. She was a very well-built, healthy young girl and she allowed me to ascend the throne of love without any further resistance. Julie's face flushed and her eyes sparkled with barely hidden jealousy.

I made Freda pull up her legs a little, guided my staff into her grotto and meanwhile inserted my finger into Julie's temple of passion.

Freda's eyes gleamed with delight, her breath came haltingly and a whimpering moan slipped out of her heaving bosom. Her passion seemed to be contagious to Julie, whose breath became panting as her hips moved violently under my exploring hand. She kept my wrists firmly in her hands to make sure that my fingers would not escape from their warm nesting place.

My prick emptied its contents and Freda became wild under me. I had not yet spent entirely before her spring of passion started to overflow and Freda fell back upon the mattress in a most voluptuous swoon.

Now I turned my attentions to Julie. The poor child was being devoured by passion. She kissed me, nibbled at my lips and pressed her firm globes tightly against my side.

“Have a little patience, dearest Julie, and I hope to be able to satisfy you, too.”

She played with my prick, caressed it, and it started to lift itself. Her countenance betrayed the wildest desire and she herself guided it furiously into her grotto which seemed more hotly inflamed than passionately warm. She moved swiftly and amidst loud groans her cup of passion flowed over very quickly.

I now moved one hand under each girl's buttocks and let my fingers play and explore with the cleavages in between. Their spasms told me how much my explorations excited them.

Both were exceedingly voluptuous girls and I really would not know which of the two I would prefer. Their passion pits were equally beautiful; neither one of them had been defiled by misuse and the charms were still fully intact. Freda's renewed caresses had soon put new life into my staff and it did not need much enticing to enter the passion pit again. The poor dear girl did not yet know the value of temperance. She was too eager and she moved too quickly. Soon she closed her eyes, her lips met mine and my prick was bathed in a most copious stream.

Julie looked at me with great passion and her hungry eyes told me that she too wanted her turn again. I felt her passion pit and the dear girl's muscles contracted violently. Should I withhold my sacrifice from Freda?

While I was still asking myself that question, Julie had artfully succeeded in pushing her friend aside. She was even more eager and more violent. Within a minute she went into convulsions and sank exhausted back onto the pillows.

I viewed both beautiful and passionate bodies with intense pleasure. Their love pits were in slight disarray because of the constant floodings and Julie's pretty little passion lips were still foam-covered.

I finally decided to turn Julie around and have her kneel in front of me, resting on hands and knees. I kept Freda on her back, ascended her throne of passion, threw an arm around each of the pretty bodies and guided my hand into Julie's passion pit. It was sheer delight to hear both girls groan and pant.

Julie: “Ooh… it's… too much!”

Freda: “O-o-o-o-OOOOh!”

Julie: “Cannot stand… much… more!”

Freda: “A little… deeper!”

Julie: “I… I… ooh… I'm… choking!”

Freda: “Ooh… ooh… please, have… m-e-r-c-y!”

Julie collapsed and Freda almost lost her mind when both, at the same time, sacrificed on Venus' altar and I too sacrificed again to the goddess of love. With both girls embracing me, Morpheus took the three of us under his wings and we did not awaken till well in the afternoon of the next day.

I could tell many more anecdotes with young and elderly ladies of the various German courts and with many another pretty young miss, but the reader will have to excuse me for not going into any more detail.

A FINAL CHAPTER

I went back to my home after it had been rebuilt according to my specifications. Soon thereafter my father came to live with me and two years later he died. His remains are buried in a small stand of dark cypress and his tombstone bears the inscription: “Dedicated to the best of all fathers.” Even today, every Sunday, my subjects visit his tomb.

A few years later I had to erect another stone, this one dedicated to father's Lilla. The inscription says: “Love lasts beyond the grave,” and the stone covers the remains of my beautiful and incomparable Lady von Glossen who moved in with us after her husband died and who is responsible for creating out of Julia one of the most magnificent wives any man could ever desire.

A wife?

Yes, dear reader, I am a very happy husband and the father of three strapping, healthy sons and a daughter whose beauty is renowned in the entire district.

I had never known my wife before I married her. My dear von Glossen had visited her husband who was very ill and upon her return from the town she stopped off at Blassenheim. After dinner, while we were sitting on the sofa talking and exchanging tender kisses, she suddenly became very serious and said:

“Dear Baron, the next time I go to town, I will take you along with me to see the wife I have selected for you.”

“A wife?”

“Of course, dear Baron, you should get married. Your household needs a woman. I only hope that you will not forget me entirely.”

“But how could I think about a wife, as long as I have my dearest Glossen?”

“I believe, dear Baron, that you should know by now that I am a very realistic woman. Even if I were free to marry you, I would be very reluctant to give up your embraces. You need a young wife and I would be too old for you. You are the new branch on an old tree and it is your duty to give it new life again. I promise you that your firstborn daughter will become my heiress and since I am involved in getting you married, I will extract one more promise from you and that is that you will be a very good husband, and in case of… that I would rather phrase as a question. What would you do if you discovered that your wife was attracted to a nice and charming young man? Or even, if fate would bring her into the embraces of one?”

“What questions, beautiful Glossen! Is it possible to give a firm answer? I believe it depends upon the impressions which the particular situation would make upon me. And how little could I say with any authority upon the subject unless I would find myself in the situation you just mentioned.”

(Shaking her head): “That's what I call looking for a loophole. There is one thing I would like to mention, my dearest Baron, and that is that I want a more firm answer. One question: Do you believe that we always have our emotions in check?”

“As long as we can avoid feeding them in such a way that they only enlarge.”

“But could we diminish the strength of an impression?”

“That depends on the case.”

“No, my dear Baron, that depends on the impression. Tell me, have you never met a female who made such an impression upon you that you were absolutely unable to get her out of your thoughts?”

“Dear Glossen, I don't know why we are wasting our time with these word games when we could use it perfectly well by making love.”

And I closed her in my arms, one hand seeking her temple of love.

“I want to see you happy, dear Baron, and I want to know for sure whether you believe that a marriage is ended if you find out that your better half has been embraced by another man. And I want a definite answer before I allow you to do what my love for you demands me to grant you. If you are married, can you resist all further temptations?”

“How could I possible say that?”

“In that case you would have to grant your wife the same privileges. Would you give her that freedom? If she ever were to meet a man in whose arms she would want to give herself?”

“Yes, as long as she would handle that affair discreetly.”

“She would, as long as she knows she has that freedom. Leave everything up to me. I will be her companion and her teacher. If it is agreeable with you, we can leave for the city in about a week.”

“Fine, we'll depart in a week.”

The day after we arrived in town I saw Julia at Frau von Glossen's, a young, flowering girl of sixteen.

Her beautiful Roman nose, her well-formed coral lips, the pretty dimples in her cheeks and chin, the full snow-white bosom, the pretty little hands, the soft fingers and beautiful pink and white nails… everything about her excited my temperament.

“How do you like her?” asked Glossen when Julia had left.

“She is an angel.”

“How indiscreet of you to tell me to my face.”

“I am afraid, dearest Glossen, those impressions are beyond my willpower to control.”

“And will you think the same about her in the future, when she is your wife? You must have noticed that her eyes are bold and daring.”

“When will I see her again, Glossen? I hope very soon.”

“See? Now it is only 'Glossen.' Soon I will be entirely forgotten.”

“Oh, no… never!”

“Now listen. Our present fashion hides many a bodily fault and the ardor of the husband turns cold the moment he sees his wife nude. Tomorrow night Julia is going to stay with me, and I think that you should see her without her clothes on.”

I embraced my dear Glossen, heaped kisses upon her beautiful lips, became passionate, laid her down upon the sofa, and with incredible delight we drank from the cup of passion, emptying it to the very bottom.

I could barely wait for the next night. From my hiding place I heard every word the ladies said, saw every move they made and watched every expression of their faces.

Julia liked me very much indeed. What incredible joy for me!

After dinner, von Glossen caressed Julia in many ways, bringing blushes to the girl's face, and making her very passionate.

“Shall we go to bed, dearest Julia?”

“This early?”

“We can talk there, too. But I like to hold you in my arms and I want to see you without all those clothes on.”

“Dearest lady…”

“Hush, dear Julia, I am a woman. I realize that it is quite different to be embraced by a handsome man, to find passion in his arms and solace in his embrace, but I assure you that being embraced by a beautiful woman is not without its rewards and allows for many pleasant sensations. Come, dear girl, take off your clothes.”

Amidst small talk and voluptuous jokes, Julia took off her clothes, aided by von Glossen.

The white of her body shone like precious marble. She is of average height, but her limbs are fashioned in perfect proportion, her hips are beautifully rounded and her thighs full and desirable. In short, she is the ideal model for a Greek goddess.

“If the Baron were here he would be delighted with what he saw.”

“But I would never undress myself in front of him; how could you think that, dearest friend?”

“I believe that you are not unattracted to the idea of becoming his wife.”

“Of course I am not, but I firmly believe, dearest Glossen, that one should not unveil everything at once before a man's eyes.”

“You could be right at that, if it were not for the fact that we ourselves get so much pleasure out of doing it! Come here, dear Julia, sit on my lap.”

She embraced her, kissed her, spread her thighs slightly apart so that I could see, from my hide-out, the precious temple of her love.

“My dearest Glossen, you are taking liberties!”

“How beautiful and flowering did the goddess of love plant your passion garden.”

“I will have to punish these bold fingers!”

“Really Julia, the entrance to your temple of passion has not been used; poor Baron, if you don't know what to do, he will have trouble conquering you.”

“Shall we lie down, dearest Glossen?”

“You are becoming passionate, little girl. Oh, if only the Baron were here. You would be able to enjoy love's greatest delight right here in my presence.”

“I would die of shame!”

“You would die of voluptuous delights in his arms. And what would you think, Julia, if he were here already and if he had heard and seen everything we have done together?”

“Terrible!”

“Dearest little one, don't be so terrified. My love for you and for the Baron has made me play this little trick on you. He is not out of town on pressing business; he is right here. You can come out now, Baron!”

Julia cried out and jumped into the bed, covering herself with the blanket.

“Undress, dear Baron, I will make it up with Julia. Julia dear, is it all right with you that I, too, take off my clothes and join you in the bed so that I can witness and possibly participate in the pleasures you are about to enjoy?”

Julia remained silent.

It did not take me long to take off my clothes. Julia complained about treason, cuddled up to von Glossen, and did not want to have anything to do with me.

“It is fine with me, Julia; if you do not want the Baron, then I will take him in my arms, but I assure you that by doing so I would rob you of the greatest pleasures and the highest ecstasy.”

Glossen took me in her arms, kissed me as voluptuously as she could though I must admit that I had only eyes for Julia and lusted after her pretty little temple.

“I do not wish to be unjust,” she said, helping me to get on top of Julia. I took the blushing girl in my arms and covered her face with passionate kisses.

The girl's bosom heaved and her breath was labored; she glowed and involuntary sighs escaped from her coral lips. I touched her little passion pit and she jumped up. A shiver went through her body when she felt me at the entrance to her temple.

Glossen pulled Julia's thighs apart and I climbed upon the throne of love.

The entrance to her passion pit was narrow, but it was built very comfortably, because the moment von Glossen had pulled Julia's legs slightly apart, my staff stood right at the entrance of the glorious grotto.

I put my hands under Julia's full behind and tried a deep lunge. She cried out loudly and after my third try she wanted to escape, taking no heed of my passionate pleas and of von Glossen's reassuring talk. But I kept her in a tight embrace. Her struggling and the soreness of my prick only served to double my desire; I took one very deep lunge, exploding the barrier between us and poured the nectar of my love upon the altar of passion. Julia had fainted.

“A beautiful sacrifice to love!” said von Glossen. “Oh, dear Baron, the sight of it has set my insides on fire.”

She guided my hand into her passion grotto and truly I found the evidence. I kissed her and, since my prick was again in a state of readiness, I was more than willing to give her the relief she craved.

“No,” she said, “don't; it belongs to Julia now.”

We lifted the covers and gazed upon the temple of her love. The pretty lips of her passion pit still quivered and we noticed the traces of blood from the ruptured virginal garland.

Julia opened her eyes, sighed and covered her beautiful eyes with a pretty little hand.

“How do you feel, heavenly Julia?”

“How do I know? I thought I was dead.”

Glossen: “But you're still alive. Did I disappoint you, Julia?”

“I don't even know where I am.”

Glossen: “Dear Baron, don't hesitate to make Julia happy. She will now be very capable of enjoying the delicious pleasure of love and passion. Don't be shy, Julia, embrace your lover and return his kisses and caresses; don't you ever become afraid to show him how happy his embraces make you.”

My staff had barely entered the temple of passion when the tremors of her body and the soft groans and cries betrayed the sweet sensations Julia experienced.

“Ooh, please stop, oh please, it's too much!”

Her eyes filled with tears, her legs spasmed, her throat gurgled voluptuously and suddenly her wellspring of passion flowed over. I put my hands under her behind, played with my fingers between the cleavage of her buttocks.

“Are you happy now, sweet Julia?”

“Oh, yes… very!”

I brought my second sacrifice and she pressed me firmly against her bosom. She cooed like a little dove. As soon as she had recuperated, von Glossen asked her:

“Well, Julia, don't you owe me some form of thanks?”

“Oh, yes… oh, yes!”

“But what if I asked you to lend me your Baron? Feel my breasts, they are devoured by the fires of passion. Would you allow me to be embraced by him right here at your side? I want you to be very honest, Julia. Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Glossen pulled me on top of her, threw off the blankets, threw one leg across my back and stemmed herself with the other. She moved under me so quickly and so violently, her passion pit bubbled over.

“Oooh… dear… Baron… quick… qui…”

The words died upon her lips.

I tried everything to give her the greatest pleasure and I was lucky enough to cause her fountain to flow a second time the moment I emptied my sacrifice into her grotto.

The god of sleep took me under his wings and the next morning I woke up, my face buried between Julia's delicious globes.

A few weeks later I took Julia as my bride to Blassenheim and until today I have spent nothing but pleasant and delicious days with her. I am still a very happy husband and my Julia has earned herself many a compliment with her free and natural behavior. She has never been secretive to me about her feelings. A young count and a young lord made a terrific impression upon her and I was the first to advise her not to ruin her life by harboring a few unsatisfied desires.

Farewell, my dear, young, passionate reader. I hope that I have been able to give you a lesson. Temperance will guide you into a meadow with beautiful flowers, and you can pluck as many of them and as many different ones as your heart desires. But beware that you do not get sidetracked into the moors, the heather or the wasteland with its many thorns, thistles and nettles. It is very easy to do.

Life is but a fleeting dream and we can make it as pleasant as we want to. The wine of love is sweet, nourishing and can make us happy and lightheaded; too much of it will only make us drunk and the dream of life would turn into an ugly ending.

Content

Gustav Schlling
Memoirs of a Baron

BOOK ONE 1. THE READER GETS TO KNOW ME

2. A LEAP, WITHOUT RISKING MY NECK

3. A LITTLE WORD FROM MYSELF

4. THAT I WILL HAVE TO REMEMBER

5. ONE STEP FURTHER

6. THAT WAS ONE STEP

7. CONTAINS MANY REFLECTIONS

8. WE CONCLUDE A PACT

9. A MOST BEAUTIFUL VIEW

10. THE GENTLEMAN GOES WRONG, BUT HE IS REBUKED

11. A LITTLE RELAXATION

12. AS DESIRABLE AS POSSIBLE

13. AN HONEST MAN KEEPS HIS PROMISE

14. A YOUNG KNIGHT GAINS HONOR

15. NOW IT IS HER TURN

BOOK TWO 1. A CHANGE IN SCENERY

2. ONE SURPRISE AFTER THE OTHER

3. THE FESTIVITIES

4. A FEW REMARKS WHICH MAY SERVE AS AN EXPLANATION

5. DOES NOT CONTAIN ANYTHING OF IMPORTANCE

6. MOTHER DORE

7. MY HONOR REQUIRED ME TO DO IT

8. A DIFFICULT TASK

9. THE END OF THE SECOND BOOK

BOOK THREE 1. WHAT YOU CAN EXPECT IN THIS THIRD BOOK

2. SOMETHING VAGUE

3. REMARKABLE CAPRICE

4. AN OBSCURE STORY HAPPENS AGAIN

5. I FALL DEEPLY IN LOVE

6. MY PRAYERS ARE ANSWERED

7. LIGHT IS THROWN ON MY AFFAIR IN THE DARKNESS AND I HAVE TO TAKE MANY CHANCES

8. I AM GOING TO SPILL A LOT OF BLOOD

9. PRESENCE OF MIND

10. WHY DOES THE GENTLEMAN PLAY AROUND SO MUCH?

11. WE ARE GOING TO TRAVEL

12. I GRAB THE OPPORTUNITY

13. A STRANGE INTERLUDE

14. WE ARE IN PARIS

15. I FEEL EXTREMELY COMFORTABLE

16. WHO COULD HAVE BELIEVED THAT SHE WAS SERIOUS?

17. GERMAN WOMEN ARE NOT THAT COOPERATIVE

18. MORNING VISIT

19. A REPAST FOR THE GODS

20. I AM IN LONDON

21. A SMALL ANECDOTE

22. THE REMAINDER IN ONE CHAPTER

BOOK FOUR 1. A REVIEW OF SEVERAL YEARS

A FINAL CHAPTER