caresses preface caresses chapter 1 caresses chapter 2 caresses  chapter 3 caresses chapter 4 caresses chapter 5 caresses chapter 6 caresses chapter 7 caresses chapter 8 caresses chapter caresses chapter 10 caresses chapter 11 caresses chapter 12 caresses chapter 13 caresses chapter 14 caresses chapter 15 caresses chapter 16 caresses chapter 17 caresses chapter 18 caresses chapter 19 caresses chapter 20 caresses chapter 21 caresses chapter 22 caresses chapter 23 caresses chapter 24 caresses chapter 25 caresses chapter 26

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caresses intimate memoirs of Jaqueline de R

Caresses


The Intimate Memoirs of Jaqueline de R

CHAPTER SEVEN

The last few days I have come to a most curious discovery!—yes, indeed! Despite our wild caresses, our kisses, and the knowledge of our most intimate secrets, Francois and I do not seem to completely belong to one another!

And why? Could it be that a certain, lingering shyness keeps Francois back from this last, all-important step? Might he be afraid of something which prevents him from completing the lectures that began with so much promise. There seems to be an invisible roadblock preventing me from reaching the final delight experienced by all those beautiful women in the etchings from the books which Francois and I read day after day. It seems to me that Francois has peeled off petal by petal the tender leaves that protected the beautiful flower I am; and now he seems to be afraid to pluck the flower.

I have asked Francois about it; I have told him as frankly as I could that I would be more than happy to satisfy all his wishes, provided he satisfies mine.

“... because I love you, my dearest Francois, I want to belong to you completely, with soul and body...â€

My darling teacher smiled and lifted one hand as if to say, “Patience!†But I threw my arms around his neck, embraced him hotly, pressing my lips firmly upon his.

* * *

I am now very sure about it. I am deeply in love with Francois, and I can no longer doubt that my hot desires for him are without bounds, without restraints, and—above all— unquenchable.

I love him, I love him; it is unfair of him to deny me the thing which can only make our love grow deeper and stronger. It could be possible that sex is not necessary to love, and I know that I could live without it. But, I simply do not want to.

But I cannot deny that the demands of my body are stronger than those of my heart.

I do not care, I have realized that there is more lust than love involved! I can no longer stand it; my entire being reaches out for him, everything within me cries out, “Take me... take me completely!â€

* * *

Today I am nineteen years old. Between two kisses I told Francois and I also made it quite plain what I wanted for my birthday.

I soon noticed that this was going to be the big day and, filled with joy, I ran off to the study.

To make things simpler I took off my clothing and lay down upon the sofa. Soon, Francois joined me, but I detected that he was far more serious than usual. He embraces me, but he does not smile as usual. Instead, his eyes shine with desire and lust.

I lie down full of anticipation, and remain silent. He covers my body with hot kisses. I shiver under these moist caresses.

Suddenly he places his hands under my hips and lays down upon me, his lips pressing against mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I can feel Francinet make its way between my thighs, searching for my already moist fleece which is hiding the narrow entrance, now burning with hot desire.

Ouch! I yelled out loud, feeling a sharp, stabbing pain. But, I am not afraid, because the pain is mixed with a strong passion. Francinet jumps up and down within me, and now he begins a wild movement. The pain becomes more stinging, almost unendurable, but my passion increases at the same time, finally taking the upper hand.

Francois is groaning, too. I kiss his lips passionately and I stammer, delirious with joy, “Darling, darling, I love you... Oh, my darling... lover!â€

Now I scream out loud and collapse into total relaxation. I can feel Francinet squirm deep inside my belly, spurting jets of deliciously hot balsam which seem to fill me up completely.

Francois groans louder, and collapses on top of me. We remain motionless, our eyes glazed. I see a big splotch of blood slowly soaking into the sofa's upholstery. Proof for all the stern faces in their ebony frames to see that today, my nineteenth birthday, I have become a woman.

But whoever told me that love-making was tiresome? I haven't noticed any slackening of my desires. On the contrary, a true spirit of discovery has been awakened in me, and I am, so to speak, raring to go and find out more.

“When are we going to do this again, my darling? When? Tell me, tomorrow?â€

This time my dear aunt must have guessed everything. She looked at us with a mysterious smile while we were having dinner, and the little twinkle in her eye when she gazed at me, told me that she knew my secret.

Francois and I must have looked completely different.

There was no longer any doubt in my mind when I looked in the mirror. The deep joy which I had tasted this morning was still visible in my eyes. My entire face had changed and everything about me seemed to proudly tell the world what I had lost upon the sofa that morning.

Even the way I walked was different. I noticed that when I saw my own reflection in the tall mirrors in the corridor on my way to the park for my nightly stroll with Francois.

He had changed, too. He took my arm more firmly, more proudly and when we walked past Leda I knew that I no longer had to be jealous of her. She might have the bill of her swan, but didn't I possess for the satisfaction of my passions the lips and tongue of my lover? And not only those... I had Francinet, wonderful, marvelous Francinet, who swelled with pride at my touch and who could do things which made me happier than the goddess who could only get the bill from her swan.