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The time during which my dear cousin Amaranthe stayed at the castle was one uninterrupted series of delicious joys. She participated in every respect in my lectures and became an equal partner in our daily strolls through the park.
The botanical excursions in the neighborhood of the castle were continued and expanded, and Amaranthe was surely not the last who gave herself in full abandon to the wild caresses, kisses and other games of our beloved teacher.
My cousin showed, on the contrary, an ardent desire to learn during those games. But her stay here will soon come to an end, and it seems to me as if she is squirreling away a great store of experiences before she has to go back to her dull, parental home. I cannot blame her that she is trying to cram as much experience as she can into the few remaining days. It is understandable that she desires to know as much as she can about the game of love, because after her departure she will be on her own without the superb guidance of our teacher. She will have to pluck the gallant flowers that will bloom upon her life's path without supervision, and taste the joys of lasciviousness guided by her own instincts. It is our holy task to prepare her for the future as well as it is in our power...
These are our last outings. The weather is beautiful. The sun's rays are burning the fields golden and bathing Nature in full splendor.
We are searching for the loneliest, most hidden spots to enable us to give ourselves completely and unhindered by curious onlookers to the most voluptuous games our combined fantasies can think of. We wander throughout the entire area; sure of the fact that friendly Nature somewhere has a place for us with a soft bed of grass, with walls and ceiling of thicket and tree leaves. And... we find it! The loneliness and the silence of the place are so great that it seems to us as if we are the only three people left on earth. We have no objections to Amaranthe's suggestion to undress completely. In no time Francois, my cousin and I are as naked as the day we were born. It seems as if we were transported back in time to Paradise!
Suddenly the feeling overpowers us and we play the wildest, most delicious games. Amaranthe and I embrace each other passionately, our lips firmly pressed against one another, our fleeces rubbing and our tongues playing a marvelous game.
Francois uses the opportunity to his own advantage. He climbs on top of me and sends Francinet on its natural way. Meanwhile his lips have reached the thighs and his tongue the fleece of Amaranthe; he reaches around till his tongue has discovered her most sensitive spot and Francois begins to buck and slurp at the same time, using both our bodies.
It is marvelous! Excited by the moist caresses, Amaranthe kisses me more devotedly and passionately than ever, and a double joy floods my entire being. I can feel Francinet penetrate me with doubled force. And Francois, too, is enjoying double passion; the glowing passion with which his lips explore the inner secrets of my dear Amaranthe makes itself felt by the double size of the throbbing Francinet who is pushing deep inside me.
We groan and pant, and tumble around and around in the soft grass. Arms, legs and bodies are wildly intertwined. Lips, tongues and hands caress every available part of soft flesh; our fleecy triangles are moist and twitching, Francinet grows harder and stiffer, throbbing wildly with every shove given by Francois. We stay in this passionate embrace, forming a perfect triangle, and each angle is the ultimate passion for the other. Amaranthe and I shudder in this delightful embrace while Francinet keeps pounding unmercifully into me, and Francois' tongue drives deeper and deeper into the fleece of Amaranthe.
Suddenly my cousin and I are in the grip of a long and shaking spasm. Our lips let go of one another to cry out our joy. Our happiness is complete because I realize that the tongue of Francois has given Amaranthe the same climax which I have just been given by Francinet.
* * *
The three of us continue our lessons and excursions till the very day that my dearest Amaranthe has to take her leave from us. My cousin's parents have completed their move to Bordeaux, and she must leave now to return into the fold of her own family.
Before she went into the coach she kissed both of us so intimately and passionately that it caused my dear aunt to raise her eyebrows in wonder. Her farewell kisses were obviously far more than convention demanded.
We agreed that we would use the first best opportunity to see each other again in Bordeaux. From the rest of my memoirs one can see that fate would send me to Paris before I could fulfill my promise to meet Amaranthe on the banks of the Gironde River. Francois and my cousin did meet again, and I will write down the results of that meeting.