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. Th