Chapter 1

Liliane, Countesse de Chaumbard, was almost thirty-six. Her husband, the count, was very old. He could not hear well, could hardly walk, but he tried to fulfill his marital duty honestly. Almost every night he hobbled bumpily to the countess’s bedroom, lay down on her, He twitched his skinny rear several times and fell asleep, not finding the strength to go to his apartments.

The countess then lay for a long time and looked out the open window, to the accompaniment of his snoring. So it would have been this time, if not for the dark silhouette outside the window. The Countess shuddered and was about to scream, but the stranger jumped into the window and appeared beside her. A gloved hand gently covered her mouth.

“Please, don’t say a word...”

It was Chevalier Oliphant, a young and handsome officer. She saw him for the first time at yesterday’s ball and she had no chance to pass by. He was tall, lean and black. He was originally from somewhere in equatorial Africa. He fell into slavery as a very young boy. Merchants sold him to the Turks, the Turks presented him to the chevalier Oliphant Sr., who was carrying out some important mission in Constantinople. The old and childless chevalier grew to love him as his own son. He bequeathed to him everything he had: a small estate, a title of nobility, a good old sword and a bunch of debts. The new chevalier became a frequent guest at the most refined soirees and enjoyed considerable success due to his exotic appearance and the most refined gallantry.

All evening the chevalier did not take his eyes off her, relentlessly followed her. She gave him two whole dances, as they sat and played cards, the Countess quietly kicked off her shoe and lightly ran her foot along his leg. Oliphant trembled. The foot of the countess, meanwhile, rose to the very groin and rested against something elastic and huge. They both froze, looking into each other’s eyes. The countess was amazed at the size of the weapon, the chevalier could not move from the pleasure that pierced him. For the first day of acquaintance, this was more than enough. But all this was not enough for the insolent Oliphant. He begged for a date and today he entered her bedroom.

“You’re out of your mind, Chevalier...”

“It’s because I’m hopelessly in love”

“But my husband is here...”

“He’s fast asleep, don’t worry.”

“You will kill us both...”

The Chevalier dug into her lips with a passionate kiss, the Countess drew him to her. She was seized with a pleasant shiver, her legs buckled. She didn’t care if her husband woke up or not. She wanted only one thing, so that a huge black elastic snake penetrated into her womb, filled it to the brim with its sweet poison.

The chevalier was covering her neck with kisses, descending lower and lower. The Countess ran her fingers through his wig. She sighed softly, afraid to speak. The old count snored on his back. Meanwhile, Oliphant’s hands were already caressing the Countess’s huge breasts. The chevalier gently stroked her through her thin nightgown. Lips left wet marks on Lillian’s delicate neck. The Count suddenly stopped snoring and said something unintelligible. The Countess shuddered, a burning wave of fear swept through her body from the tips of her toes to her heart. She held her breath. But her gentleman was calm. He lowered one hand down to the special slit in the Countess’s chemise. This slit on the shirt at the place of the groin made it easier for the old, the count’s flabby member to penetrate into her womb. the chevalier’s playful black finger slipped into it. He went from top to bottom from the clitoris to the labia. Lillian shuddered, fear making her sensations especially acute.

The old count turned on his side and began to snore again. Oliphant knelt, lifted the edge of his shirt and hid his head under it, as if under a canopy. His flexible tongue parted the labia and penetrated inside. The Countess covered her mouth with her hand to keep from moaning. She sat down on the edge of the bed, one foot on the chevalier’s shoulder. He penetrated the countess with his tongue. And then, moistening his finger in the secreted juice of love, carefully thrust it into the lower hole. Lillian bit her hand to keep from crying out. Oliphant continued to play with her in this way for some time. The countess was dripping with juice, her face contorted, the tips of her toes twitched slightly when the chevalier’s flexible tongue touched one of the walls of her womb. His finger easily slid in the anus. Lillian was on fire. She only wanted thing.