Anonymous

Voluptuous Confessions Of A French Lady Of Fashion

PART I

The chateau of my grandfather was situated near the city of…. in a delightful country; the park, shaded by fine scattered trees, mostly splendid oaks, or chestnuts, was of great extent and enclosed by walls. The grounds immediately round the house itself being laid out in splendid parterres of the finest flowers, and watered by a little river which traversed a magnificent piece of water, and was lost in the country by capacious meanderings.

My old grandmother, mostly confined to the house, never went much further than the beautiful lake. As to myself my greatest happiness was to wander alone in the most uncultivated parts of the demesne, and in the most retired parts of the park indulge in the reveries of my sixteenth year. These reveries, I ought to confess were always of the same nature; a strange feeling invaded my soul, my young imagination revelled in unknown regions, and presented before my eyes images of tenderness and devotion, in which a young man was always the hero; although profoundly ignorant as to the difference of the sexes, my already awakened feelings moved the whole of my organism, a secret fire circulated in my veins; often a dimness came over my eyes, my limbs trembled, and I was obliged to sit down, a prey to a weakness which combined both pleasure and pain.

It was the month of June, the weather was magnificent, my walks were mostly in the morning when I was sure to be alone.

We received a letter from Madame T., my aunt, who replying to my grandmother's invitation announced her speedy arrival.

Madame T. was about twenty-four or twenty-five, and had been married at the age of twenty to an old man who had left her a widow two years since, mistress of a great fortune, and without children. She was a delightful person, her hair black as ebony, contrasted with the whiteness of her complexion, which was lighted up by her beautiful deep blue eyes. Her mouth, small and pleasing, set off by adorable teeth, as white as the purest ivory, an imperceptible black down shaded her upper lip, giving her a peculiar expression, which, however, had nothing hard or masculine about it; her medium figure, perfectly formed and graceful, with hands and feet of fascinating petitesse; she dressed with taste and elegance.

I loved her very much. Her lively and playful disposition had long captivated me. Accustomed to live with my grandmother, whose age prevented her from affording me any amusement, deprived of companions, I was very happy at the arrival of a relation who would be a friend to me.

A project of marriage had been spoken of between my aunt and Monsieur B., which my grandmother approving, she wrote at once to him, with an invitation to pass some time at the chateau, and in consequence he arrived a few days after my aunt.

What I am going to relate now is very delicate and difficult.

I have hesitated a long time! But after all nobody will read it, I hope so, these lines are for my own perusal. The pictures which I am going to draw are very lively, but they will be true.

What lovers — real lovers, who in each other's arms have not experienced the same? I will add that, even now I am past kissing, I feel a veritable pleasure in recalling the soft enjoyment.