It grasped his penis like a glove. Eudoxie was almost wild with excitement, she breathed short, and her bubbies rose and fell in the most delicious confusion. Their images were reflected in the mirrors surrounding the apartment. It was a glorious sight. There lay Eudoxie extended on the bed, her head reposing on the pillow, and her long hair streaming by the side of the bed. One of her legs rested on the ground while the other was a little elevated, by this means extending her thighs to the widest capacity. Alphonse was between them, his staff buried in her con, with one of his hands molding a globe of snow while the other was passed round her body. How delicious the contact appeared to be. He suddenly leaned forward and imprinted a thousand kisses on her lips; he then withdrew himself slowly from her, only, however, to plunge more deeply into the innermost recesses of her _con_. So delicious, so transporting, so celestial was the pleasure that they both felt, that Eudoxie threw her legs around his loins and pressed him closely to her and they twisted and writhed in each other's arms. Eudoxie suddenly exclaimed: "_O Ciel! quel transport! O, O, O!_" (O heavens! what transport.) And finishing with a prolonged sigh, she poured down her tribute to the god of love, and then with a few convulsive heaves of her divine bottom, she let go her hold and fainted away. He also emitted copiously and fell annihilated by her side. In a few moments they had both recovered. Eudoxie wiped Alphonse perfectly dry and her lover performed the same office for her. Neither of them appeared to be satisfied, for I could see that the Frenchman's instrument was still in a state of fierce erection and Eudoxie, by her touches and manipulations, proved that she was as amorous as ever. They now performed a strange action which only shows how foolish young people can be when they sincerely love each other.