" Ah," she murmured, " ah… that tickles so nicely." She imagined she had been dreaming. However, she nudged her young sister (who slept in the same bed beside her) with her elbow, as though she had thought the child had been responsible for what she had felt. I regained my bed, enchanted by the fact my daughter had discharged. Her emission encouraged me to hope that her spirits were now set in commotion and now aware of her own temperament, she would soon be susceptible of encuntment, become my mistress, and make me the happiest of mortals.

But how far astray my calculations led me! And what a great number of pricks were to attempt to martyrize that glorious cunt. Alas, it was to be the cause of myriad disappointments.

Nevertheless, such were my wholehearted, my unswerving, my voluptuous inclinations for that adorable girl, whose only rival for my affections was her sister. No, I can say it with all the conviction of a man who has had the experience. No, there is no pleasure to be compared with that of plunging one' s straining prick into the last depths of the satin- smooth cunt of one' s beloved daughter, above all if, courageously stirring her ass to and fro, she discharges copiously. Happy, oh, thrice happy he who steals the prize from any future son- in- law detested by both concerned…

Conquette Ingenue' s menstrual period came a week after the historic night of her first discharge. Thus, she was perfectly nubile, but while in a waking state I could not obtain any essential favor from her. My sister Marie, who was thoroughly acquainted with my character, placed her as an apprentice in a women' s dress and jewelry shop run by an attractive person whose husband had a functionary' s post. Offering herself in the place of my spectacular daughter, although unable to console me for her loss, Madame Comprenant, the dressmaker, undertook to distract me.