Mauricette leaped up and ran to me, overjoyed that I had cut short the scene even at the expense of the drama inherent in it. She neither wished that Charlotte should be the cause of the state I was in, nor that I should fall into an indifferent lassitude for lack of solicitude.
And immediately she thought of another scene, then came out with one of those sentences that seemed to be so natural to Teresa's daughters and which always left me completely stupefied.
“Lili,” she cried. “Stick your tongue into my ass and see if there's any mustard left!”
And while Lili was lifting the panel in her clown costume, she said, “It's terrible how my asshole gets me! But no! Mama did it on purpose to get me hot and I like it. You'll have to cornhole me a dozen times tonight before you deflower me! Well, Lili?”
“Well,” began Lili, “it smells of come, garlic, cocoa, whores, marshmallow, pricks, pussy juice, Spanish fly, dildoe rubber, suppositories, the bottom of a bidet, lipstick, towels, vaseline, starch, musk, bordello shit-houses, and bitcheries I don't even dare mention.”
“That you don't dare mention!” repeated Ricette. “Oh, thanks! Come here and let me give you a slap in the head.”
“Instead of that, how about giving me what I just gave you?” said Lili, approaching without the least fear.
“Look!” said Ricette to me. “Look at her! See if she doesn't know I won't hit her! Clever for her age, isn't she? And the only whore in the family, I tell you! She just gave me one of her famous digs in the ass, and I can still feel it.”
“Sure I did,” said Lili, “but if I were really a whore it would have been worth six sous, as Charlotte said.”
“One, two, three, four, five, six! And paid!” said Ricette, giving her six kisses. “And…”
She struck a wonderful pose: a skinflint of a miser, suddenly trying to be generous. “And, in honor of the occasion, a special prize, entirely free of charge. What I am holding in my hand is mine for the night, but mama had it once in the cunt and Charlotte once in the mouth, while Lili sighed and said she was going to rub her mound to see if she could make the hairs grow.”
“And they're not growing!”
“Therefore, we have the special privilege to present, with the permission of the gentleman here, a little three-part scene in which our special guest, the schoolgirl, will have my lover for a period of time not to exceed one minute and on the condition that she return him intact at the end of that period.”
“Be careful,” said Lili with a straight face. “If he got a hard-on in front of Charlotte without wanting to, with so beautiful a woman as me he'll play hell trying to keep from coming!”
And the game that followed presented to me a frankly negative and therefore rather rare and interesting phenomenon. A thing that proved fascinating because it was entirely foreign to any previous known conception of mine. In other words, these short erotic scenes had as little connection with dramaturgy as with love.
And I describe it here without fear of being repetitious. Please be kind enough 'not to think that I am making up these childish programs. If you can accept my style as not being that of a primer, have the grace also not to think that these dialogues are the fruit of my imagination. I have noted them down because I felt that they were more “little girlish” than “whorish” despite their subject matter and vocabulary: a contrast I found amusing. However, like the drawings of a child, they would lose all their character under the editing pen of another.
Before plunging into it, I warned Ricette that I was once mere in a physical state less marked by ostentation and therefore less willing to be opened to ridicule. So they gave me a little respite in this direction. But not for long.
The scene began with a fortissimo, like a classical symphony.
Without the slightest preparation: “You're just leaving school, little girl?” asked Ricette. “That can't be true. It's seven o'clock. Your mother's going to give you a good scolding.”
“Yes. She already gave me a slap in the chops because I came home with a dildoe in the rear. And one that I didn't even know about.”
Lili's beginnings were always unexpected, but always prepared. Lili always directed the scenes she was in, and, of all the strange things that I saw in that family, the things she did surprised me the least. Ricette, however, was definitely surprised and had to laugh behind her hand before she could continue.
“It's still there? Whose is it?”
“How should I know? There are so many bitches that cornhole me… And since I turn my back to them, I can never recognize them. My mother was squawking all the time I was home: 'What? Not another whore of a whore who forgot her prick in your ass!' Was it you, miss?”
“Me? Me the bitch who cornholed you? Me the whore of a whore who…”
“Oh, don't get all in a lather. I said to her, 'It was on the stairway, mama.' And she said, 'Good! Go see that lump across the hall and ask if it's hers.' So here I am. I'm being very kind to come to you with it like that.”
“And I'll stick it back inside you! I've never seen such a thing, a kid coming to pay a formal visit with a dildoe in her ass. Any don't you even lick people from the front? I suppose not!”
“No! I haven't met all the different kinds of lesbians yet. Just those who cornhole you from behind and those who wash your face in their come… You fuck more with them than you do with men…”
“What? You mean you've already lost your cherry? At your age?”
“Oh, Christ! What a snob! Do I have to be a virgin to lick your ass? Why did the good God give me two holes if I wasn't supposed to use them?”
“I only use one.”
“That's nothing to brag about.”
Lili never had to look for a reply, and Mauricette, whose glibness had amused us so much before, sensed that she would fare better to quit dialogue for monologue where she shone to greater advantage.
“And if, instead of a dildoe, I give you a living prick?”
“Much better than a dead one,” said Lili calmly. “I try to stick to living ones when possible.”
“Then pay attention! If you want one, you'll have to thank me ahead of time by giving me a jolly little working over while my friend is asleep in the room next door. First of all, kisses on the face, your tongue around my ear, and your teeth in my neck. That's the beginning. Then you suck first my right nipple and then my left nipple until I say enough. After that you let your tongue wander lightly and without wetting anything around my cunt; you chew the lips of my pussy, your tongue then passes underneath and just touches my ass lightly, as if it scarcely dare do anything there, then plunges deeply inside. When it returns, it works over my cherry, seeking out all the little unknown corners and finally it attacks the snatch itself. And when I've finished coming, I'll give you a nice, handsome prick, all warm and hard, to play with.”
“Oh, miss!” said Lili unenthusiastically. “That's worth more than a prick, all that. That's worth fifty francs.”
This reply that sent Teresa off into such gales of laughter proved to me that Ricette was right when she said that Lili had the instinct for her trade. But now it was my turn to play, and I almost missed my entrance.
From her first words, Lili brought us once again back to the subject.
“Good day, sir. Your lady told me that she is really too ugly for you and that for a long time now you would have chucked her out except that she has given you other women as a distraction. Now she's obliged to dress herself up like a clown and send you schoolgirls. You're a little nutty, is that right? Oh, I don't care, mind you! I'm used to it.”
That wasn't in the original script! “The little beast!” muttered Mauricette between her teeth, but Lili continued:
“Older women like that don't know how to do anything, you know. They've got cherries all over the place and you have to turn them over and over like a pig on a spit before you can find an entry. And when they finally do learn how to do something like sucking a dick, it's so sensational that they invite their whole family to applaud as if they were swallowing a sword!”
“You'd better shut your trap, you little monster!” said Ricette, unnerved by her mother's laughter.
“Oh! Miss!” said Lili calmly. “You won't have to beat me to give your lover a hard-on. I can do that alone. Besides, I don't like torture scenes like you do. So go take a leak, why don't you. Come back in five minutes, give me the money, and I'll return the gentleman to you in good condition. Go on.”
Lili's authority was overwhelming. Even Mauricette, after looking first at her mother and then at me, had to laugh too and leave the room “to take a leak” as she had been invited.
I was looking forward to the rest of the scene with apprehension, for I did not know exactly what would be expected of me in the role of a man presented with a schoolgirl by his mistress dressed in a clown costume. I was therefore happy to see Lili once again re-set the stage, speaking with a new intimacy that surprised me.
“Ah! That's a vicious little chicken you've got there! She knows that you've slept with me. She gave me a good half-hour lesson in lesbianism and now she's gone to the toilet to finger herself and she wants you to screw me when she comes back. Even the president of the court of appeals didn't ask that much before he stripped.”
I would be relating this story very poorly indeed if I didn't note the howls of laughter that kept me from replying to this last sentence. Only Lili kept a straight face. In fact, she even seemed in a hurry, for she raised her short skirts to her waist and said, “Hurry! This is serious! If you laugh, you're going to fail me in the clutch!”
I knew it as well as she, but Lili inspired in me more hilarity than concupiscence, and Teresa's overflowing laughter made it even harder for me to get serious. I found it almost impossible to get hold of myself properly, and only the fact that Mauricette unexpectedly prolonged her absence by several minutes permitted Lili to continue the scene according to her wishes and gave her the assistance from me that was so necessary.
When her sister finally did return, Lili once again took up her role.
“Is it true, miss, that you've been working on the gentleman here ever since the day before yesterday without ever getting anywhere?”
“You think so, eh little toad? At ten thirty I sucked him, at eleven he cornholed me…”
“That's what you say! When I saw him in front of you he was limp as a rag and now look how I'm returning him to you! That'll be twenty francs, please. Do you want a receipt?”
Mauricette made a gesture of reprisal with her hand, but remained in a good humor and with no lack of imagination once again took up her own role in the comedy so as to keep her promise.
“I don't have any money, but that thing in your hand is worth more. You take it first, but don't empty it. Then return it to me and we'll be quits.”
Lili, at that point, had the most comic expression of any of us: a mixture of disillusion, politeness, and indifference, and taking her hand away from me, said to her sister, “That'll be twenty francs more.
Obviously, Mauricette was only waiting for a pretext to show what a good sport she was, an opening that wouldn't be a wisecrack aimed in her direction. Laughing, she embraced Lili, then grabbed her around the waist, lifted her skirts, and said to me, “Now! Take her whichever way you want!”
Another child would have found it amusing to cry, “Mama! I'm being raped!” But Lili wasn't making any more jokes and besides she had something much more important to say.
“Wait! Wait! I'm just a schoolgirl, remember! I've got my vaseline jar in my little basket!”
“Oh, what do you need that stuff for?” cried Mauricette. “Here, I'll spit on it. Hold still!” Lili took up a position as if she were going to play leap-frog and Ricette climbed on top of her, but back to front, with her behind on Lili's neck. From there she leaned down her sister's back and ran her tongue everywhere I could possibly enter. Then, holding onto her waist with her thighs, she said to me “Mama has two cunts because she has as much hair behind as she does in front. But when Lili opens her cheeks it looks like she has two assholes.”
“That's even better,” said Lili from somewhere beneath Ricette.
However, the thing I proceeded to take was still a little sex, and do I have to mention the precautions necessary? Yes, I think so. It would even be useful if I insisted on them to emphasize the moral character of my narrative. Listen carefully then, young reader, and take heed. Note that the day you try to fuck a little girl dog-fashion, if you are not very careful, you will tear her to pieces and she will survive neither your clumsiness nor your excuses. Nothing is more dangerous than to try to take a child in a posture like that. I am not saying this for the school boys who cornhole their little sisters, but rather for those who fuck them and who risk hurting them seriously if they have not read this page.
One of the most widespread of popular errors is that which concerns the deflowering of a youngster. Many men seem to think that the only way to do it is to thrust in the penis by the vulva so that it comes out the mouth. Or, on the other hand, to run it down the larynx so that it pops out between the legs. Myself, I've never tried this tour de force, however the anatomists with whom I have spoken on the subject have advised me against it. I in turn advise you the same. You can no longer say that my book isn't fit to be read by some.
God, how virtue often goes unrewarded. My prudence and my scruples will receive little recompense for this wisdom dispensed.
However, joking aside, to play in one woman while embracing another is not at all my idea of a ravishingly good time. I am so little used to deception in love that even adultery is repugnant to me, and I would ten times rather relate this story of a family of whores to you than to set down the methods by which I fooled a man one hundred times in order to make free with his wife.
Under Mauricette and I, little Lili seemed to me to be playing a completely useless role, for the least interested of the two was definitely not the one I was embracing. And this unlikely combination, this reversal of realities under the guise of illusion, bothered me so much that I made a hurried sign to Mauricette.
She asked me in a low voice that no one else could hear, “My turn now?”
“More than you know. And let's have no more of this crap about the mustard. That's finished. You're going to lose your cherry right now.”
Her face flamed with desire, she stuck out her breasts and opened her lips to cry, “Yes!” then suddenly shut them again without uttering a sound. With a sudden shift in that fantastic will of hers, she murmured, “Quick! I want to say something to you behind the door!”
Gently, with a kind little gesture, she kissed Lili, tickled her ribs, made her laugh, and pushed her into her mother's arms to keep her busy while she quickly followed me out of the room.
“Which of us feels like it the most?” she whispered, grabbing me and holding on tightly.
“Me.”
“That's what you think, but… Thanks anyway for saying it, and so much the better if you really believe it… Only, how about waiting for an hour first?”
My face paled and she saw immediately what my sentiments were before I uttered a word.
“Then I'll have to tell you everything,” she said, holding me even tighter. “Didn't you hear what mama said? I've got a cherry made out of leather like Charlotte used to have… It'll be a butchery!” Ah! She had found just the word it took to tempt me the least.
“And that's all right with me,” she continued. “The more you hurt me, the happier I'll be; but when we've finished I'll be roughly half dead… At first I wanted yea right away, but now… we're having fun… I'm enjoying myself… I don't always enjoy myself around here.”
As she finished her sentence, she lowered her head and her voice sounded almost like Charlotte's. I felt so sorry that I had made her feel sad that I promised to do anything she wanted and secretly resolved to have as much fun as she in the meantime. Since I rarely resolve to do something in this manner, I like to do it, when the occasion does occur, with temerity.