151540.fb2 The Amorous Adventures of Margot - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 10

The Amorous Adventures of Margot - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 10

CHAPTER NINE. BROTHER ALEXIS

To avoid being accused that my account is rambling and not written down in proper order, let us wait till this slovenly lewd monk pay's his next visit to Madame Thomas before I tell you my story about him. But the evil is never that bad; let's allow him to come in while our dear landlady is turning the goose with which she is going to feed him.

You will be able to imagine that I saw a tall, erect, muscular, heavy-boned man with a full beard and a fresh, rosy complexion. His lively, penetrating eyes were fiery and their mischievous twinkle caused a tickling sensation slightly lower than my heart which could not be remedied by a thorough scratching with my fingernails. Madame Thomas told him about my sordid history. On his way to the house he had already heard about the untimely passing of our canon, but he too, like us, succeeded in quickly finding solace. The rascal did not limit his trade to collecting alms. He had discovered the secret of making himself profitably useful to society and even more so to his monastery. He serviced both sexes. No one understood better than he how to instigate tender meetings, clear away obstacles, divert the watchfulness of Argus eyes, cuckold jealous husbands, allow liberties to those young ones f whom he was supposed to take care and free fearful turtledoves from the tyrannical lordship of their fathers and mothers. In short, Alexis was the king among matchmakers and panderers and was therefore held in high esteem by gallant society.

After the first formal courtesies had been exchanged, Madame Thomas left us alone to go prepare the main course of our first meal.

She had hardly gone downstairs when Alexis kissed me heartily upon the mouth and threw me upon the bed without any further ado. Though I deemed his behavior as strange as it was unexpected, the desire I felt for him and the curiosity to see what he had hidden under his cowl made me resist just enough to fire his passions and to avoid being thought of by him as a common street whore. After he had put me down in the proper position, he raised his soutane and took out a beautiful, gorgeous tool… an instrument which seemed more befitting to furnish the trousers of a king than the revolting and filthy fly of a poor foot soldier in the army of the Holy St. Francis. Aah, Madame Thomas, how many women would love to take thy place and buy old hats at such a price! The queen of passionate love, the adorable Cytherea herself would have gladly sacrificed both Mars and Adonis to acquire such a precious instrument. It seemed to me as if Priapus and all his followers penetrated deeply into my body. The stinging pain caused by this eternally adorable monstrosity would have made me scream out loud were it not that I feared to alarm the entire neighborhood. But this small evil was soon forgotten when I started to drown in an enormous wave of voluptuous pleasure. How could I ever describe the delicious convulsions, the intoxicating palpitations and the glorious ecstasies I underwent. Our powers of description are always too weak to depict what we feel so strongly. Is it surprising that it seems as if the very soul has been destroyed and we exist only with our senses?

I would have gladly run the risk of dying during this passionate embrace had it not been for the rough voice of Madame Thomas talking to her dog which forced us to separate. I do not believe that it was very difficult for her to guess what had transpired. Our excitement had not yet been released; our flushed faces and the rumpled bed were silent witnesses against us. But she nevertheless pretended that nothing had happened. And when the goose appeared upon the table, every one of us started to gorge himself. Between the courses of fruit and cheese, Brother Alexis took a bologna sausage and a bottle of aquavit out of his beggar's pouch, a gift from a well-meaning girl. Madame Thomas, who was a lover of these victuals, drank more than two-thirds of the bottle, which brought her into such a good mood that her eyes rolled around in her head as if she were a rutting pussy screaming for the passionate attentions of a tomcat. She was sliding up and down on her chair as if she had a bundle of thistles bound against her derriere. It seemed that the spirits of aquavit affected her that way. She jerked back and forth partly out of desire for tenderness and partly out of fury. She kissed the monk: she squeezed him; she almost licked him off; she bit him and tickled him. Finally I took pity upon the poor woman and I retired into a small side room whose walls consisted of thin boards, with cracks as wide as my fingers, that had been pasted over with thin paper. Through a small opening which I made I could watch the couple going into full action.

As the dear reader may remember, I described Madame Thomas as a heavy, contented woman who had fattened herself with her superb cooking, and therefore he should not be in the least disturbed when I tell him about the posture Brother Alexis forced her to take. The dear lady had such an enormous belly that it was absolutely impossible to enter her from the front. Even the rigs of the famous donkey stallions of Mirebalais in Bretagne could never have reached her from that position. She leaned both her elbows upon the mattress, pressed her pug nose into the pillows and presented her enormous behind to the pleasure of the venerable monk. The knave threw her skirt, underskirts and chemise way over her shoulders and unveiled the twin globes of her lower back that not only stood out because of their enormous size but also because of their snow-white color. When the angelic aspergillum, still slightly disarranged, reached the enormous cleft which it had mounted so often from below, it suddenly jumped with incredible strength through the heavy brush which obscured the inner part of said derriere and disappeared between the bushes.

During this operation Madame Thomas howled and groaned like the doomed souls in hell. This excess of passion brought her into a frenzy which normally can be caused only by terrible torture. She nevertheless succeeded in regaining her senses somewhat. “Aaah, my heavy sausage!” she hollered loudly, her voice interrupted by deep and heavy moans… Stop it! You are killing me… I'm dying. Oh, my darling billy goat… I love you… You are doing it so good Come on, dear heart, gold piece of my soul!.. Ouch, you damned son of a whore! You dog! Don't stop it now… you're tearing me apart! Oh, forgive me, my sweet friend… have pity upon me… I… can … no… longer… bear… it!

I must admit that I did not have the strength to view this passionate scene in cold blood. I was just about to use my forefinger as a rather meager substitute when I noticed a candle upon an old portable organ standing in the corner. I grabbed hold of the towering object and shoved it as deeply as I could into me without taking my eyes off the actors in front of me. Though I did not entirely extinguish the fire which consumed me, it sufficed at least to dampen my ardor a little bit and thus I acquired some release.

One should not be too surprised that Madame Thomas showed little shame during the execution of this immoral act, even though she must have known that I was in close proximity. In the first place she was in no position to think about the proper rules of behavior, and secondly even if she had been able to do so there was no reason for her to take my tender feelings into consideration since she had been fully informed about my profession. The question was whether she wanted to prove to me that she trusted me completely and wanted to become my friend or whether it was sheer debauchery and she wanted to find delight in the viewing of a similar slippery scene as she had just finished playing, but it is a fact that she pulled Brother Alexis' still steaming monstrosity out of his trousers again and pressed it into my hands. Even if I had wanted to put on a demure demeanor, I would not have had the time to do so. The lustful monk pushed me back upon the bed and made a face mask out of my skirt. His horrid, turgid firebrand which barely missed its goal gave me such a tremendous jolt against my belly that I feared it would spill my innards. The Samaritan Madame Thomas, who was witness to my torture, had the tender decency to help me. It was only because she pulled and jarred the rebellious instrument with all her power that it finally and happily disappeared into the cunt-hole. Since I was quite incapable of showing him my gratitude in a loud voice, my rapid pelvic movements which I performed without stopping must have left him without a doubt that I was greatly appreciative of his behavior.

The tireless friar remained unperturbed in the saddle and he reciprocated every single one of my convulsions with a rapid counterthrust. His jolts were so overpowering that on any other occasion the mere thought of it would have scared me, since I was afraid that the floorboards were about to collapse. But passion had made me lose all fear. After all, a fireplace belongs in every home and I did not have the slightest reason to be worried. This much is true: there are moments when women become truly courageous. I cannot remember that in all my born days I ever made sport with so much abandon; all I needed was a partner like Brother Alexis to remain triumphant and in control of my passions. I became a true demon. I had crossed my legs behind his knees and embraced his hips with my arms, forming such a strong vise that they would have had to hack me to pieces in order to free him. The glory of claiming victory over me was reserved for him only. What might sound incredible, yes, even unbelievable, was that he succeeded without so much as an interruption to take a deep breath in making me experience thrice in a row the delights of Mohammed's paradise. It should be a lesson to you, oh proud men of the world, that the virile outbursts of this upright man of God make your performances look tepid and can only be contributed to the miraculous virtues of the cloth!

Brother Alexis now had a very high opinion of me after he had sampled some of my talents and he assured me with the voice of a prophet that I would surely become a great success.

“It would be easy to find somebody for you who is willing to keep you,” he said, “but that would not lead to anything solid or promising. You have such a beautiful face and figure that we cannot allow you to get stuck in mediocrity. If I am not mistaken, the only proper place for you is the Opera. I will make it my business to give you an introduction. The only question is whether you have an inclination toward singing or toward dancing.”

“I believe I would have more success as a dancer,” I answered.

“I believe so, too,” he replied, and covered my legs up to the knees. “These limbs are created for such a task and you can take my word for it, they will keep the monocles in the parterre fully occupied.”