The 120 Days of Sodom - Marquis De Sade [77]
"Ah, by God's balls," said Curval, "that's a very delicious passion indeed, but none the less susceptible of improvement."
"And how?" asked Durcet in a voice broken by signs of lubricity.
"How?" Curval repeated, "why, by the choice of food and of partner."
"Partner? Oh, but of course. You'd prefer a Fanchon."
"To be sure!"
"And the food?" Durcet continued, while Adelaide frigged him.
"Food?" the President murmured, "why, I think I'd force her to give me back, and in the same manner, what I'd just introduced into her."
"That is to say," stammered the financier, beginning to lose all control of himself, "you'd spew into her mouth, she'd swallow and then have to blow it back at you?"
"Precisely."
And each rushing into his closet, the President with Fanchon, Augustine, and Zelamir; Durcet with Desgranges, Rosette, and Invictus: proceedings were halted for roughly thirty minutes. Then the two lechers returned.
"Ah," the Duc said chidingly to Curval, the first to reappear, "you've been up to some nastiness or other?"
"Ah, a little of this, a little of that," the President replied, "it's my life's happiness, you know. I've not much patience with mild or tidy pleasures."
"But I trust you were also purged of a little fuck?"
"Enough of that nonsense," the President said, "do you suppose everyone is like you, flinging fuck this way and that every six minutes? Why no, I leave those efforts and that unconscionable prodigality to you and to vigorous champions like Durcet," he went on, watching the financier stagger weakily from his closet.
"Yes," said Durcet, "yes, it's true, there was no resisting the girl. Desgranges is so filthy in word, deed, and body, she is so adroit, so suitable in every way…"
"Well, Duclos," the Duc said, "go on with your story, for if we don't quiet him down, the indiscreet little fellow will tell us everything he did, and never once consider what a dreadful breach of good manners it is to boast of the favors one has received from a pretty woman."
And Duclos obediently returned to her tale.
Since, said our chronicler, these gentlemen are so fond of that kind of drollery, I greatly regret they were unable to restrain their enthusiasism yet another minute, for the effects of what I have still to relate this evening might, it seems to me, have better found their mark. Precisely that which Monsieur le President declared to be lacking to the perfection of the passion I have just described was entirely present in