Author: L.H. Walker (pseud.)

Blurb: ANGELA WAS ENJOYING HER NIGHT GAMES MORE AND MORE. SHE FOUND THAT THE COUNTESS WAS a matchless companion who had discovered all the possible pleasure that one can get out of one's body, and thought that it was not a reprehensible thing, since nature had seen to it that we should all be provided with such senses. On the contrary, she reflected, we should make the best of what we have."

About: Choisy . . . a ravishing woman, an effeminate boy, a true transvestite or merely a wolf in she's clothing? All the most prominent gossips of Europe were guessing, and only his mistresses knew for sure!

Thus did Choisy seduce his innocent victims, using feminine disguise to win the confidence and affection of woman after lovely woman. And before each charmed new friend discovered the prodigious virility that lurked beneath the frilly exterior, she was irrevocably the passion-plaything of...

Excerpt:

Choisy was quick to grasp his opportunity, so, after having spent the night in an inn, he came back to see the girl the following morning under the pretext of inquiring about his horse Frisky.

“He still needs a few days' rest,” Julia observed, “are you obliged to go away at once?”

“No,” he replied, “I can stay a while in the realm of tulips... I like this country, and its people are so hospitable.”

Julia smiled at the compliment as she naturally took it to be a personal one. It even seemed to Choisy that she was not without some emotion, which made the half-moons of her bosom rise animatedly.

They went to the stable and talked amicably while patting Frisky.

“Aren't you lonesome all on your own with a husband so often away on the high seas?” he asked leadingly.

She sighed a little and said with a forced smile: “I keep busy with my garden, my hens and the cow.”

“That's all right during the day, but at night?”

“At night, I sleep,” she said, startled.

“Perchance to dream?...”

The girl's cheeks passed from pink to bright red. “No, I rarely dream,” she affirmed, adding, “but you are so curious!”

“I bet that in your dreams you imagine yourself in the arms of a man—your husband, of course.”

“Oh! Do please stop your teasing me so!” she said. “You don't deserve the pancakes I had prepared for you.”

She ran away to the kitchen and came back with a dish full of pancakes and a tankard of beer. They sat down to this lovely meal.

“I've never eaten better pancakes,” he exclaimed after a while. “If I were your husband I would stay here all the time growing flowers and eating pancakes.”

At that, Julia laughed gaily, and she was so troubled by the compliment that one could have sworn her breasts would at any moment escape from their linen prison.