"Sade, Marquis De - The 120 Days Of Sodom 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marquis de Sade)

his discharges are rare and uneasy, far from abundant and always preceded
by spasms which hurl him into a kind of furor which, in turn, conducts him
to crime; he has a chest like a woman's, a sweet, pleasant voice and, when
in society, the best-bred manners, although his mind is without question as
depraved as his colleagues'; a schoolmate of the Duc, they still sport
together every day, and one of Durcet's loftiest pleasures is to have his
anus tickled by the Duc's enormous member.
And such, dear reader, are the four villains in whose company I am
going to have you pass a few months. I have done my best to describe them;
if, as I have wished, I have made you familiar with even their most secret
depths, nothing in the tale of their various follies will astonish you. I
have not been able to enter into minute detail with what regards their
tastes - to have done so now would have been to impair the value and to
harm the main scheme of this work. But as we move progressively along, you
will have but to keep an attentive eye upon our heroes, and you'll have no
trouble discerning their characteristic peccadillos and the particular type
of voluptuous mania which best suits each of them. Roughly all we can say
at the present time is that they were generally susceptible of an
enthusiasm for sodomy, that the four of them had themselves buggered
regularly, and that they all four worshiped behinds.
The Duc, however, relative to the immensity of his weapon and,
doubtless, more through cruelty than from taste, still fucked cunts with
the greatest pleasure.
So also did the President, but less frequently.
As for the Bishop, such was his supreme loathing for them the mere
sight of one might have kept him limp for six months. He had never in all
his life fucked but one, that belonging to his sister-in-law, and expressly
to beget a child wherewith some day to procure himself the pleasures of
incest; we have seen how well he succeeded.
As regards Durcet, he certainly idolized the ass with as much fervor
as the Bishop, but his enjoyment of it was more accessory; his favorite
attacks were directed toward a third sanctuary - this mystery will be
unveiled in the sequel. But on with the portraits essential to the
intelligence of this work, and let us now give our reader an idea of these
worthy husbands' four wives.
What a contrast! Constance, the Duc's wife and the daughter of Durcet,
was a tall woman, slender, lovely as a picture, and modeled as if the
Graces had taken pleasure in embellishing her, but the elegance of her
figure in no way detracted from her freshness, she was not for that the
less plumpy fleshed, and the most delicious forms graced by a skin fairer
than the lily, often induced one to suppose that, no, it had been Love
itself who had undertaken her formation. Her face was a trifle long, her
features wonderfully noble, more majesty than gentleness was in her look,
more grandeur than subtlety. Her eyes were large, black, and full of fire;
her mouth extremely small and ornamented by the finest teeth imaginable,
she had a narrow, supple tongue, of the loveliest pink, and her breath was
sweeter still than the scent of a rose. She was full-breasted, her bosom
was buxom, fair as alabaster and as firm. Her back was turned in an
extraordinary way, its lines sweeping deliciously down to the most
artistically and the most precisely cleft ass Nature has produced in a long