Memoirs of a young Rakehell

CHAPTER NINE

One day my mother decided that all the maids would henceforth sleep on the top story of the chateau, right under the eaves. They began moving their goods and chattels upstairs, and were to start sleeping there the same evening

I watched them move. As one of them, her mattress under her arm, was climbing the last flight of stairs, I sneaked up behind her and lifted her petticoats.

The first thing I grabbed was a pair of firm buttock cheeks, which I drew back against me, at the same time thrusting my thumb into her moist cunt. She raised no cry, but turning round and recognizing me, smiled as if flattered by my gallantry.

It was Ursula, the brunette. I led her up to the top floor and embraced her.

She reacted favorably to the first kiss, and responded actively to the second. Whereupon I seized her blouse at the bosom, and had soon succeeded in slipping inside to caress the firm, brown-tipped hemispheres. A swift movement of the left hand beneath her short dress, and the well-grassed mound was mine.

She squeezed her thighs together and bent slightly forward. I took a nipple in my mouth and sucked it gently, while my finger played with her excited clitoris. Soon I had managed to slip my hand between her thighs, until one, two, three fingers had penetrated her cunt.

She tried to get away, but I pushed her against the wall. I felt her whole body trembling beneath her flimsy clothing. I deftly extracted my John Thomas and thrust it into her box. The position was awkward, the girl was tall and strong, and I would never have been able to screw her unless she had done her share of the work.

So I fucked her standing up. She must have been as hot as an oven, for she quickly reached the climax. I too was on the point of coming, due to the fatiguing position we were in, but just then we heard a noise in one of the adjoining rooms, and Ursula broke away. But the sound soon died away. I showed her my dark, red prick, dripping wet from her discharge. She looked at it, and was moved because, as she said, it was the first time she'd ever seen a city fellow's prick.

"All right now, tit for tat," I said. "Let's see yours."

She responded modestly. I raised her skirt, laid bare a pair of lovely legs and, between her thighs, an impressive mop of black hair. Thanks be to God she was not wearing panties, as the city-bred girls do, who put on all sorts of airs when you meddle with their roots, despite the fact that they really like it as much, if not more than the peasant girls.

Then I stuck my nose into her Lady Jane; it gave off the odor of raw egg — due to her recent discharge — and of piss. When I began to tongue her clitoris she laughed and let her skirt fall back into place. But I held on tight and, squatting beneath the folds of her dress, let my tongue wander at random across the length and breadth of her body, as a result of which I got an even more impressive hard on. But the sounds began anew, and Ursula broke away again, this time for good.

I was obliged to leave, but as Ursula turned to go I lifted her skirts one last time from behind, revealing a pair of really splendid, extraordinarily firm buttocks.

"Just a wee bit more, Ursula." I said, retaining her by her blouse.

I kissed the cheeks of her rump, manipulated them, opened them to smell her arse-hole, which gave off no odor of shit, but only of piss. But finally she broke away, remarking that it was beyond her powers of comprehension how a fellow like myself could get any pleasure from sniffing a poor peasant girl's stinking parts.

That evening, at dinner, I discreetly asked Berthe if I couldn't please fuck her. She said no. I went upstairs later to see if I might perhaps find the opportunity of doing what I so badly wanted to do. Result: zero.

The covers of my bed were already turned down. I undressed and, stretching out on my belly, spread a handkerchief beneath me, hugged my pillow and, thinking of my aunt, my sister, of all the cunts and buttocks with which I'd ever come in contact, I softly began to stroke alone. Then I rested awhile before starting the procedure allover again. Just as I felt my sperm coming, I heard a voice from behind the door say: "Are you already asleep, Master Roger? I've brought you your water."

I rose, slipped on a dressing gown, and opened the door. It was Helen, one of the girls who worked in the kitchen. As soon as she was inside, I locked the door. So great was my desire that my prick was throbbing like a pendulum.

I grabbed the lovely, prettily dressed peasant girl's sturdy buttocks and as I fondled her breasts, planted a pair of savory kisses full on her mouth.

She took it in the right spirit, but when I reached her love lips she said, blushing: "It's my period." Just my luck! I was as erect as a bare-footed friar, and she was looking at my prick good-naturedly. She played with it prettily. At least I could amuse myself with her hanging gardens. I opened her jacket and her breasts slipped into my waiting hands. Like the girl herself, they were freckled, but aside from that I saw nothing to reproach them for.

I didn't stop pestering her till she let me see, although against her will, her buttocks and Lady Jane, to whose crinkly, reddish hair blood was sticking. I pushed her onto a chair and let her place my dick between her breasts. A most practical method: it disappeared among the fleshy folds of her delectable hillocks. But it would have been better with a bit of lubrication. I told her so. She spat on my prick and squeezed it tightly between her boobies. On top the glans peeked out, and at the bottom my balls were hanging down.

I began to rock back and forth, whispering sweet words to her and at the same time caressing her face or playing with the wisps of curls along her neck. A powerful discharge followed, which she watched attentively, for the position was as novel for her as it was for me.

Having had my fill, I made her a gift of a silk scarf, which she gratefully accepted, once again excusing herself for her condition. She added that the girls who worked with her in the kitchen were late in going to bed, but that they slept much later in the morning than the others who rose early to go milking. Should I venture up there some morning, I'd find more than enough to keep me happy.

I was overjoyed by the news. The following morning I gave out that I was going to build a bird house for the doves under the eaves, in order to have an excuse for climbing to the maids' garret. But I was constantly interrupted and my project came to nought.

Once I managed to watch Berthe in the toilet, and once Kate, and so got a peek at their cunts. But because of the inclement weather my aunt and mother sewed assiduously: neither Kate nor Berthe dared touch my prick as they went by.

To pass the time more pleasantly, I'd drilled a hole inthe toilet partition; the toilet itself was nothing more than a hole inthe ground.

And I could thus spend my afternoons watching all the girls and ladies piss, shit and fart. I could study buttocks, pot holes and Lady Janes in all their glory, and I remarked that among them there was little to choose from except difference of hair color and size. I became convinced of the truth of a statement attributed to a farm lad whom a countess had allowed to screw her. Asked how it had been, the lad replied: "The blouse was of finer material, but aside from that just like with any other woman."

I thus passed my time contemplating all the cunts and buttocks in the chateau, and the sight of even those I had already had was a source of constant pleasure to me.

Meanwhile, I'd given Ursula a pretty shawl, for it had not been her fault that I hadn't been able to fuck her completely. The other girls had noticed it, and without exception became extremely nice to me, for they were no dummies, and were quick to realize how pleasant it must be both to be fucked and to receive a present to boot.

At least that's what one of them told me one morning early, when the profound silence was broken only by the distant rumor of goings and comings in the stables.

I had gone upstairs and discovered an unlocked door which led into two of the maids' bedroom.

The room's atmosphere was one of the mixed odors emanating from the girls' bodies. Their clothes were hanging in disarray from wooden pegs, or were draped across the foot of the bed. At first these odors were disagreeable, but as soon as one got used to them they became exciting rather than suffocating: the veritable odor di femina — the perfume which gives an erection.

The beds, made in the ancient style, were double. They were all empty except one, in which a lass lay snoring deeply.

She was lying on her side, turned toward the wall. One of her feet was on the wooden bedstead, and her buttocks were nicely exposed, since she was sleeping in the nude.

Her coarse nightdress was draped over a wooden chair, on which the rest of her clothes were also strewn. The sleeping beauty, whose name was Babette, had not the faintest notion that she was being scrutinized from head to toe. Her skin could have been softer, but her frame, though rough-hewn, was not skinny.

I brought my head close to her buttocks and inhaled the penetrating odor of sweat. Her arse-hole showed a few traces of her last shitting. Below it her well-formed slit, crowned by chestnut hair, was clearly visible.

I softly tickled her buttocks' cheeks and cunt. As soon as I had inserted my finger she gave a start and turned round, and I could contemplate her from in front. Her fleece was crinkly and smelled strongly of urine, which fact I remarked when I stuck my nose against it.

I might add that the maids washed their cunts only on Sundays. As a matter of fact, there are many fine ladies who seldom have the time to wash themselves. But coming back to that odor, it had aroused me, and I was already hard.

I bolted the door and stripped. Then I spread her thighs apart. She half-opened her eyes. "Babette," I said, thrusting three fingers into her box, "you're my little sweetheart. Look what an erection I've got!"

She stirred, pointed toward the other room, and said: "Ursula's in there too."

"No matter. We've got time to have a go before she wakes up. Look what I've brought you."

And I handed her a little imitation jewel ring that I'd bought from a passing peddler. Then without another word I kneeled between her thighs, which she willingly spread. I let her play with my tool and balls awhile, and reciprocated by tickling her cunt. When she was well oiled, I drove it in up to the balls, took her under the buttocks and tickled her arse-hole. She clasped me about the neck and we plunged into a frenzy of voluptuousness which, after a brief bout, ended in a violent discharge on both sides.

During the act she had perspired profusely, and her healthy peasant odor made me hope that we could start all over again. But she was afraid of becoming pregnant. Besides, it was high time for her to be up, for it was Ursula's day to sleep late. I had completely forgotten that Ursula was there, and Babette laughed heartily when I said that I'd certainly like to wake her up.

While Babette was wiping her private parts with her nightdress, I entered the other room. Ursula was lost in a deep sleep.

She was also lying in the nude, but had the blankets pulled up to her bosom. She was sleeping on her back, with her arms cocked behind her head so that the thick black bushes of her armpits were in full view.

Her pretty breasts were thrown into fuller relief by the position of her arms, on either side of which her long rich locks tumbled gracefully down. The whole picture was charming to behold. What a pity she was a mere peasant! I have never understood how a man could prefer a lady's affected charms to the natural beauty of a peasant girl.

Her impeccably clean nightdress was lying beside her. I sniffed it and was astonished by the healthy odor with which it was impregnated.

Softly, softly, I drew the blankets back and stood there admiring her naked form. I remained motionless an instant, amazed by the beauty of her well-proportioned legs, her grassy Venus mound, whose heavy hair extended from her love lips to her thighs. She awoke when I began to caress her breasts. At first startled, she hastily drew the covers over her. Then she recognized me and gave me a broad smile.

Just then Babette stuck her head inside and said: "Stay in bed, Ursula, I'll take care of your work for you." And with that she left.

I covered Ursula with kisses until she was hot. I asked her to get up and had her walk about the room while I examined her lovely body from head to foot and from all sides, marveling at her beauty.

Then I took her in my arms, and for a long time we stood there in a close embrace.

I placed my hands on the cheeks of her behind and pulled her belly close against mine. She could feel the full stiffness of my prick, her love hair tickled my balls.

She enjoyed the sport. She put her arms around my neck, hugged me to her. I plucked some hairs from her armpits. She was completely beside herself with desire. I put my hand into her cunt, which was moist and distended. Her clitoris was very hard.

We got into bed. I made her rise to her knees and hold her buttocks high. I experimented feverishly with her pothole. Her cunt, crowned by jet black hair, was half-opened, and after reveling in the sight of the red interior, I rubbed my glans against her lips.

She enjoyed the stroking and seconded my movements. Softly I pushed it till it was all the way in, then drew it out again, back and forth, until felt myself on the point of coming.

She acted like one possessed. Her cunt, completely distended, gripped my member tightly. I thrust it in up to the hilt, hugged her buttocks, seized her hanging beauties, and rocked like a maniac, completely gone. She sighed deeply at every stroke. With one hand I pressed her boobies, with the other I tickled her clitoris. We came simultaneously. I heard my prick slapping inside her wet cunt. We lay there as though dead.

When I withdrew I still had a hard on. Ursula was ashamed, because she had never done it that way.

What she'd most enjoyed had been the slapping of my balls against the lower part of her cunt. I had not yet had my fill, and would gladly have stayed a while longer with that lovely, blooming lass. Had it been possible, I would have married her.

She told me that she had to get downstairs. She slipped on her blouse and I helped her to dress. She smiled at me amicably. I examined her from all sides once more before leaving. I promised to buy her a fine souvenir, and she agreed to come and spend the night with me sometime soon.