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The sand is precipitated to the earth, and the dust floats off in dun, shapeless masses. Several have shut me within a space, and are slowly closing upon me. My dog howls and barks. The horse cowers with affright, and shivers between my thighs, uttering terrified expressions. My brain reels. Strange objects appear. The fever is upon me! The laden currents clash in their wild torsion.
I passed my hands over all her hidden charms, now it was her smooth white belly, now it was her voluminous thighs, now it was her delicious bottom and at last it was her lovely con, embowered in a mass of auburn hair. I pressed the two lips of this abode of bliss together; I turned my fingers in the curly thicket adorning her mount, and even advanced one into the narrow opening of her vagina.
Redundant life, in sinewy limbs, in the proud carriage of the head upon the neck, in the sway of the trunk backward from the reins, the firmly planted calves and brawny thighs, the thick hair, broad shoulders, spare flanks, and massive gluteal muscles of a man of twenty-two or upwards, whose growth has been confined to the development of animal force, was what delighted him.
He stopped short in his walk, stared at me wildly, then grinned, and finally burst into a roar of laughter, which was no bad imitation of the howling monkey's performance, and smote his naked thighs with tremendous energy.
"No, you can see they haven't the curtain has to go up first." There was a hole in the curtain, and a finger came through it, and began to turn from side to side, pointing at the spectators. Lasse laughed. "That's devilish funny!" he cried, slapping his thighs, as the finger continued to point. "It hasn't begun yet," said Pelle. "Is that so?" This damped Lasse's spirits a little.
I know that they have their chapel apart in the church, and that they fall back on the Society of the Virgin; but, sapristi, a handsome husband, a fine fellow, and at the expiration of a year, a big, blond brat who nurses lustily, and who has fine rolls of fat on his thighs, and who musses up your breast in handfuls with his little rosy paws, laughing the while like the dawn, that's better than holding a candle at vespers, and chanting Turris eburnea!"
This is so strictly true, that, before the revolution, I have here witnessed repeated accidents of the most serious nature, resulting from the exercise of this sort of ministerial privilege: on one occasion particularly, I myself narrowly escaped unhurt, when a decent, elderly woman was thrown down, close by my feet, and had both her thighs broken through the unfeeling wantonness of the coachman of the Baron de Breteuil, at that time minister for the department of Paris.
Unhappy Clara Mowbray!" She cautiously interrogated him about the literary morning at which he had been present; she whispered, sighed, scrutinised him from in front, scrutinised him from the side, from behind and suddenly, slapping her hands on her thighs, she exclaimed: "Well, Yáshal I see what the trouble is!" "What dost thou mean?" queried Arátoff in his turn.
Like a storm of small shot, mercilessly, pitilessly, the unnumbered multitude of hurtling grains flagellated and beat and tore his flesh. Blood streamed from his forehead and, thickening with the powder-like chaff-dust, blinded his eyes. He struggled to his feet once more. An avalanche from the cone of wheat buried him to his thighs.
The harsh light which fell from the skylight gave precision to the pure lines of her hip and thighs, accentuated her harsh visage, her dark neck, her marble chest, the lines of her knees and feet, the toes of which were set one over the other. Therese looked at her curiously, divining her exquisite form under the miseries of her flesh, poorly fed and badly cared for.
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