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I have, it seems, to learn a lot of things, and our lessons are becoming more intensive. Both in my study room as well as in the Park.
Leda and the nymphs are alternately witnesses to our games. The wild caresses to which we give ourselves in the bushes, yes, even upon the green meadows, surpass anything we have done till now. It is especially delightful at night when the tall branches of the trees in the park filter out the moonlight.
Truly, the memory which I will keep of my ancestral estate will be one of the most beautiful of my life. I will never forget the hours which I spent in the arms of my dear teacher. I snuggle up very close to him, my body presses against his, and my mouth reaches for his. Oh! I wish that time could stand still and that we could remain locked in each other's arms for eternity, without any other sound but the sweet nothings we murmur into each other's ears.
I bless the lucky coincidence which brought us together without either one of us having planned it. Oh, yes, a thousand blessings for all those hours, all those minutes which kept us in a tight embrace.
* * *
A new lesson!
This morning Francois told me to take off my drawers and to kneel down upon the sofa, my elbows stretched forward.
I cannot recall ever having seen this position in any of the books I read...
What are the plans of my dear Francois? Ere I can ask him, he has lifted my skirts, baring the two half globes which start to twitch under his penetrating caresses.
He is kissing and caressing me alternately. Now I feel the warm skin of his hands, and then the moist coolness of his wet lips.
Suddenlyâ€”aah! Darling!â€”I feel his very warm, very nimble tongue which insistently searches for a certain spot and softly penetrates me.
Ooh! It feels delicious! And my pleasures are doubled, because my darling lover caresses me simultaneously up front with his searching fingers...
My entire body trembles, I cannot stand it any longer... The prickly sensation, the tingling, and especially the moist caresses excite me so much that I collapse with a tremendous jolt in an indescribable cloud of lascivious-ness.
* * *
Has my dear aunt become suspicious?
It seems that during dinner time she is looking at us with a curious glance in her eyes. She is about to open her mouth as if she wants to ask something, and her eyes shine with curiosity...
I do my best not to blush and look at my dear Francois out of the corner of my eye. He seems so sure of himself that my shyness gradually disappears. He begins a long discourse about the eating habits of the ancients, through the Middle Ages, into our modern times. The cause of this sudden discourse on table manners is the baked capon which had just been served, and which also happens to be my dear aunt's favorite dish.
My self-confidence returns slowly, and I look admiringly upon my beloved teacher whose lecture becomes more vivacious with every bite, his words a firework sparkling with wit. My aunt smiles happily, and my lover's words seem to please her as much as the bits of juicy capon she is chewing.
I am now completely at ease, and when Joseph, our major domo, serves dessert, she allows me to have coffee with cognac! Now I am sure that my dear aunt is in a marvelous mood!
* * *
Last night a batch of new books arrived from the city, and we are supposed to go through them this afternoon. That means that we have to be on our best behavior.
We are slowly strolling through the lanes of the park, and I am thinking of the many hours of hard work ahead of us. It seems to me that Leda and her swan give me a glib smile! By. God, no! This day shall not pass without any lovemaking! And, since we have to work hard all afternoon, I decide right then and there that we shall have the pastime in the park which we usually reserve for the sofa in our study.
The weather is beautiful, and the shadow in the bushes inviting. I soon direct Francois toward a cluster of them.
Just smile, you mysterious nymphs! My dress is soon up around my waist, and the hands of my lover caress between lace and silk. My own hands do not remain idle, either.
We are bedded down upon the soft grass, the leaves of the trees form a green ceiling above us, protecting us from the sun's burning rays and at the same time silencing our heavy sighs.
Now we abandon ourselves to our desires with a wildness that-would have wrecked the sofa in our study. We savor the many caresses of tongues and fingers. We are bucking up and down, from time to time uttering soft cries of pleasure. My breasts strain against the silk of my bodice, the nipples are incredibly hard. I loosen bodice and blouse; it seems as if Francois has waited for the moment. He bends over, takes a nipple in his mouth, and starts nibbling it furiously. Then he shifts to the other one, licking, sucking and nibbling.
I am going wild... I don't think I can stand it much longer! I grab for Francinet with both hands. He is enormous! Hard, thick and incredibly stiff. Oh, how lovely! My soft fingers give him deep satisfaction which he indicates with wild jumps. Soon his balsam squirts with gigantic spurts which quickly quiet down both of us.
* * *
We walk slowly back to the castle, tired and happy.
Joseph has carried the books from Bordeaux into our study; full of curiosity we start leafing through them.
There are very nice ones among them, with charts and maps, and beautiful etchings showing natives in their colorful state. The volumes of Louis Antoine de Bougainville's world travels are remarkable because of their enormous size. Francois points out the natural happiness of the island dwellers, and he directs my attention especially to the delicious liberty in their games of love.
They are not, like us, hampered by thousands of ridiculous conventions. One of the etchings shows us happy island girls, as naked as our mother Eve, adorned only with a crown of flowers in their hair. They dance! If we, in our civilized France, were to dance that way a lettre de cachet would put us in prison for utter lascivious behavior in public. To the island girls it seems natural and harmless.
My Francois is reading passages where Monsieur de Bougainville tells about the reception his sailors received from these delicious and innocent children of Nature; he interrupts his lecture frequently to press his burning lips upon mine.
My dear teacher leafs hungrily through the travelogue. I, meanwhile, crouched upon the sofa, am reading a book which is equally as interesting. It is full of beautiful pictures: The stories by Restif de la Bretonne...