My lover, leaning over me, glued his lips to mine, that I offered to him by turning my head; his tongue dallied with mine. I was beside myself. I felt myself going mad. The supreme moment arrived. I writhed about, uttering inarticulate words.

F., who was reserving himself, was delighted at my joy; he let me calm down, and then I felt his sweet movement again.

Ah, how he knew how to distill pleasure, and double it by a thousand delicate, subtle shades. Oh! that first lesson; I can feel it, as I write, between my thighs.

"Dear angel," he said, "tell me what you feel; it's so nice to enjoy each other's soft confidence, when we form but one body, as at this moment."

Oh, how his speech made me happy; I, who had always wished to hear and say those words that had amost driven me wild, when my aunt was at work! I did not hesitate an instant longer.

"I must do it again," said I, "it's coming- push in — again — right in — finish me — ah! I die!"

"My adored one, I'm coming too — it's bubbling up — Ah I spend!"

F. gave a push, and fell upon me. I felt his ejaculation, and nearly fainted under the jet.

How was it that I did not die during that embrace? Nothing that I had imagined at the sight of my aunt's sweet struggles could approach this reality! I remained overwhelmed, my head in my arms, my bosom heaving, incapable of movement.

F. drew out. I still spent. I kept on spending. I stopped as I was, without sense of shame, naked to the waist, trembling, mechanically continuing the movement of my bottom, and causing the overflow of liquid to fall to the ground.

F. took pity on me. After rapidly adjusting himself, he pulled down my petticoats, and taking me in his arms sat by my side on the sofa. I was delirious for a second. He calmed me; his sweet voice brought me to a little. I begged him to leave me to myself, and he went away.