"Non, Henri - mais non!" my Aunt Celine exclaimed, scolding me for being too impatient in wanting to thrust my prick to the hilt in her curvaceous backside.
"Is that what you think I would like?" she said, annoyed. "A great huge prick rammed up my behind with all the subtlety of a rampant bull...? Sometimes I wonder whether I am wasting my time. And my dear sister, your poor Maman... She will despair when I report to her how little progress you are making...!"
*
It was 4.30 on a Tuesday afternoon, the day on which, as soon as my
clavecin
lesson with M. Rameau finished, I made my way with barely suppressed excitement to my Aunt Celine's apartment on the Avenue Foch. As usual she was waiting for me, wearing an exquisitely beautiful day gown, a triumph of her dressmaker's art, her extraordinarily large breasts revealed to the pale pink of her nipples by the deeply-cut bodice. She looked ravishing and, of course, I made the unforgivable mistake of being over-eager in wanting my lesson in lovemaking to start immediately.
"Please Aunt," I said as her maid showed me into the drawing room where the crockery for afternoon tea was set out. "I am so aroused I am close to gushing my sperm into my trousers. Please, may I place my prick between your breasts? I do so love to see my sperm pouring out over their glorious softness..."
At 19 I was still naΓ―ve enough to think that flattery would inflame her desire but she merely looked at me with disdain and said to her maid, "The tea, please Agnes. And perhaps a pig's trough for my nephew..."
I sat in a chair opposite her and smiled sweetly at her. She did not smile back.
"Henri," she said, coldly. "Your Maman sent you to me to learn the art of seduction, not how to
fuck
. I know that, as an eager young man, you are bursting with creamy seed, but lovemaking is an art-form at which Frenchmen have always excelled."
Agnes appeared with the teapot and set it down. She winked at me and I winked back, glad of having an ally when my aunt was in one of her less indulgent moods.
Aunt Celine said, "Thank you, Agnes. That will be all," and then she poured tea for us both. I reached over to take my cup from her, taking great care in handling the delicate Sèvres porcelain.