The Romance of Lust: A classic Victorian erotic novel
up her clitoris, a well-developed one) until he has made me enjoy it
several times, and when he finds he is about to discharge he suddenly
withdraws it, and pushes the head of it into my bottom and spends there.
You must do the same, but you must not put all this long thick fellow
in. Oh! come to my arms, my son, you have excited me until I must have
it immediately.”
Upon which the Count mounted and fucked so deliciously that with arms
and legs round his body and loins, devil a bit would she allow him to
withdraw, but spent with him most ecstatically, and quickly called for
more, so that it was not until the third time of his being about to
spend, that throwing her fine legs high in the air, and bringing her
arse with a heave well up, and taking his prick out with her hand, she
guided it to the delicious smaller orifice, and as all was reeking with
the previous discharge, slipped it in, not the head only, but the whole
shaft. She cried out, “Not so far, not so far,” but as he began shoving
in and out she quickly got excited, and wriggled her arse with all her
accustomed skill, and spent deliciously again as he shot his spunk right
up into her incestuous entrails.
He passed a hand between their bodies to press a finger on her clitoris,
this made her cunt throb, which was felt by his prick, and quickly sent
him up upon another delicious enjoyment of the tight recess of obscene
lust, and a second most exquisite and luscious course was run, equally
to his mother’s as to his satisfaction. Then he withdrew to relieve her
body of the weight she had so long sustained, they mutually embraced
their naked bodies, and sweetly conversed on the exquisite joys they had
just participated in. His mother declared his father gave her nothing
like the lascivious joys she received from his dear son. They toyed and
kissed until, handling his prick with skill, she got two more delicious
fucks, one in each receptacle, and parted for the day.
By the second month she discovered that what she dreaded had happened.
Her son had got her with child; she wept when she communicated this
unfortunate result, but the Count, like me, always stood fiercely at a
woman’s tears. Several splendid fucks followed, all in the cunt—the
mischief was done, and precautions were no longer necessary.
His mother abandoned herself to him with a greater excess of lust than
she had ever yet done, and fucked with an excellence, vigour, and energy
that drew from him eight discharges in a wonderfully short time. The
fact of his having put a baby into her appeared to stimulate both their
passions. She declared she never in her life had enjoyed fucking more.
They used the grossest bawdy terms in their intercourse, as if it was
one barrier more broken down between them, and made their incestuous
love more exciting and a greater destruction of all natural ties between
them.
Before parting they consulted about how best to fix the parentage on her
husband.
He was a man of fifty-five, and, therefore, past the ardour of
passion—taking even his fucking coolly—and, therefore, more difficult to
hoodwink.
She knew that he awoke with a cockstand, although that did not always
lead to a fuck. Upon this they founded their hopes, and at last arranged
she should drug his coffee, and when still asleep in the morning she
should handle his prick, get him up, turn her bum, put it into her cunt,
work him gently, make him spend which would awake him, hold him in,
pretend she herself was in the acme of delight, but on coming to her
senses, upbraid him with having spent inside.
This all happened as planned, he did awake on spending, but his wife
exerted such unusually delicious pressures upon his delighted prick,
that he got so excited as to fuck her and she took care he should spend
inside a second time—she pretended to be carried away by passion as much
as he was. But remonstrating afterwards upon the imprudence of what he
had done, especially in having so excited her that she could not help
spending at the instant he did, which made it more dangerous. She did
not know how it was but she had never before seemed to receive such
pleasure from him as he had given her that morning.
“Well, my darling, it is a curious coincidence, but you never seemed to
me more delicious or more lasciviously excellent in your fucking than
you did just now. As it is but once let us take more care in future, and
hope nothing will come of this little and delightful imprudence.”
But of course there did, as the Count related to us, and seven months
after this morning fucking my mother gave birth to a daughter. “I had
already been in exile for five months when this event came off, I had
letters from my mother after she got about and for some years
afterwards, telling me that my sister was a beautiful child, and growing
up _the image of her father_, underlining those words for me, to put the
true construction on them. Poor darling mamma, she died four years ago,
and my father followed her two years later. I never saw either of them
again.
“Before I escaped from Italy I had passed five months in the constant
possession of my beloved mother. As her pregnancy advanced her salacious
avidity for my embraces seemed to increase. She was insatiable, but with
such variety of charm and art that I never failed to answer to her call.
Every refinement and excess of the wildest and grossest lust was
practised by us.
“My father possessed a small collection of the grossest bawdy books; my
adored and salacious mother purloined from time to time the lewdest, we
read and excited ourselves in the realisation of the wildest and
grossest scenes therein depicted.
“My mother was an instance of a woman getting once out of bounds and
then stopping short of no excess, and became boundlessly corrupt. There
was no horror we two could possibly commit that we did not indulge in.
“My father, when once the pregnancy was undoubted, was less reticent of
his fucks. My mother at my request used to stimulate him to fuck her
just before coming up to me, so that I used to shove my prick into the
paternal sperm, sometimes in her cunt, and sometimes in her arse, and
eventually used to lick it up before fucking her either way. The incest
of her son upon the immediate fuck of her husband was, she said, the
most stimulating to her excessive lust of anything I could possibly do.
“My father was obliged to go to Turin for ten days; it was the time of
new moon, when nights were dark. My mother used to put on a dark cloak
and come up to me; we lay down on her cloak, and, stark naked, gave
ourselves up to the wildest lust until dawn, when mother slipt away to
the house and left me well inclined to sleep until she returned with my
food.
“Oh! it was a happy time, its combinations of solitude and incest,
combined with my lusty youth, for I was only nineteen years old at that
time, made me be constantly at her call, and she never went away before
her excessive lust had been satisfied for the moment. Had circumstances
permitted her to stay with me longer than she usually did, she would
have got more frequent fucks out of me; at night, when she could come,
she got ten and sometimes eleven discharges from me, and probably
herself spent twice as often. I was indefatigable.
“In all her after-letters to me she constantly avowed grief that she had
lost her most loved son; that she was inconsolable, punning on the con
in the word, which is French for ‘cunt.’
“Various allusions of that sort were in all her loving letters. Often
and often when I have been slack in fucking a woman, and my prick not
answering when called on, I had only to conjure up some of these scenes
with my mother when my cock would spring to the stand instantly, to the
immense satisfaction of my momentary _fouteuse_, and it is so yet, a
thought of her reanimates it at once.”
Here my adored wife slipped her hand under his dressing-gown, and found
his prick standing fiercely, she seized it, and pretending to be his
mother, cried out—
“Come, oh, come! my beloved Ferdinand, into your own loving mother’s
arms.”
She fell back on the couch, he got between her legs, kneeling on the
floor, having thrown off his robe, exhibiting his fine hairy arse—one of
those I so dearly loved. The sight fired my salacious prick, so kneeling
behind, I guided it into his arsehole, and while he fucked my adored
wife, I sodomised his superb arse. We ran two delicious courses, then my
wife took me in her cunt, while the Count buggered his supposed mother,
for that stimulating idea was kept up. A second fuck followed in the
same pose, with both her apertures filled to satiety.
This concluded that delicious orgy; we had a half night’s rest the
following night, as usual, to recruit, that we might better enjoy a
perfect excess on the subsequent night.
It was in this way we kept up our powers, and only near the end of our
visit had we any occasion to apply the birch, and that to no great
excess.
It was in the middle of the second night that the Count continued his
recital of the result of the intrigue with his mother. His sister-child,
for she was both, was born in his first year’s exile. Beyond his
mother’s description of her, that she was growing up a beautiful girl,
the image of her father, meaning her son, the Count, he had no other
intelligence of her. She had just turned eleven when her mother died;
for two years after that sad event she kept house for her father.
He then dying, the second brother took possession of the property. As
the state had deprived him of all civil rights, the property was given
up to the brother. On his return, after being amnestied, the Count had
to go to law with his brother to get back his property. His
sister-daughter, who had been unhappy with her brother’s wife, gladly
left them to keep house with the Count. She was then in her seventeenth
year, splendidly developed in bosom and bottom, lovely and lustful
deep-brown eyes, the very image of her father, although she only knew
him as her brother. The recollection of the fierce joys he had had with
his own and her mother, drove him wild with lust to possess the
incestuous fruit of his intrigue with his own mother. He used of an
evening after dinner to have her sit on his knee while he related his
adventures abroad, intermingled with kissing and toying. He praised her
splendid bubbies and felt them; he said he could not believe that her
immense prominence behind was real unless he felt the bare skin. With
little resistance this was permitted once, then indulged in, until from
less to more he got to feeling and frigging her cunt, while he put his
own standing prick into her caressing hand. There could be but one end
of this. He took her maidenhead, and then she crept into his bed every
night. He initiated her into every excess of venery, and ended by
getting her with child. It was concealed as long as possible, and then,
on pretence of a visit to a friend at Turin, to see some fetes, he
conducted her to an _accoucheuse_, and left her there until her
parturition was over.
I may here mention that just five weeks after that event came off we met
them at Turin, on our way home from Venice. She was a beautiful girl.
The Count introduced us as old friends, with whom everything could be
done in common.
We stopped a fortnight, and initiated her into all the mysteries and
extravagancies of the wildest lust, and she proved apt a scholar that
she almost equalled in action and enjoyment the greater experience of my
beloved wife.
The Count had taken apartments at Turin for the winter, and finding his
sister-daughter so facile a pupil he intended getting up a _partie
carrée_ to continue these delightful orgies. His child was a lovely
fruit of double incest, and gave promise of being a lovely woman. Her