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He is a man of taste. In his garden there are two swings, one revolving and one ordinary. He spends many pleasant moments there, conversing with his friends. Sometimes, alone, he switches from one to the other until his head spins. But his favourite swing has neither ropes, nor wood, nor cushions. He finds it with his favourite mistress, a skilful and passionate courtesan. Adorned with pearls and gold, a simple veil of silk hiding her nudity, she stretches out her arms towards him. The night will be long... They revisit each of the sixty-four chapters. And, to finish, the swing. She sits on his lap, her legs raised. With one hand,
he holds her, with the other, he caresses her breasts. She swings back
and forth, faster and faster, until bliss. |
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