by AnonYMous
How to bring this fortuitous encounter to a satisfactory conclusion was the next problem. And, in a flash, there came to my recollection another charming feature of this amusement park which also greatly contributed to its popularity with young couples.
This feature consisted of a tiny lake where row boats were available for a shilling an hour. In the center of this lake was a small island with a bit of sandy beach and about its interior a few trees and shrubbery. It was toward this island the boats carrying amorous couples were invariably steered and doubtless the trees thereon could have told many interesting stories of romances which had budded and come to flower beneath their discrete shadows on summer nights.
Elated I turned to my companion and suggested a ride on the lake. She was agreeable, but cautioned me that she must be home before nine-thirty, or her father would come after her. A hasty glance at my watch told me that it was then almost nine-thirty, but unscrupulously, I told her there was plenty of time. We hurried across the park grounds to the lake, and under a string of lights hanging above a floating platform to which were anchored several dozen row boats I made the necessary monetary arrangements for the use of one of them.
The boatman winked knowingly at me as I helped my little friend to seat herself. Seizing the oars, I quickly had the small craft skimming over the water. The moon was in first quarter, softly illuminating the scene, and a circle of electric lights around the lake twinkled brightly and were reflected back from the velvet surface of the water. I saw with inward satisfaction that there were no other boats out and unless some couple was already at the island we would have it to ourselves. I circled it once and found that, as I had hoped, it was unoccupied.
"Shall we rest a little while on the sand?" I insinuated softly.
"If you want to!" she answered, with a sly smile.
A bit of maneuvering and I quickly had the prow of the boat close against the sandy shore. I jumped out, pulled the small craft up on the beach, and assisted my companion out.
We sat down on the sand. I knew from what she had said about being home early, that we had not time to lose. Placing an arm around her I drew her down so that her head was resting on my lap. I bent over her and as I covered her mouth with mine I slipped a hand under the edge of her dress, and up between her legs. And a moment later one of my fingers was inside the temple.
The road had apparently been traveled already.
"You've had it before, haven't you, cutie?" I murmured.
"Yes!" she replied shortly, her legs twitching under the effect of my fingering, "Lots of times!"
"Who…?"
"Oh, some boys I know!"
When I put my hand between this girl's legs I had first inserted a finger in her vagina to see whether the way was "open" and after assuring myself on this point, I withdrew it, and felt for her clitoris, with the intention of exciting it. I found, to my surprise that it was a great deal larger than that of any female I had previously manipulated. Also it was of a different shape. Instead of being a small elongated ridge it was conical in shape and stood up seemingly half an inch or so. Under my touch it became perceptibly firmer. It was like a diminutive little cock and it seemed to me the tip must project out between the upper lips of her cunt. Its likeness to a cock was further apparent as I continued to finger it, for it pulsed and throbbed to the touch, standing out harder and firmer. Absorbed in this unusual phenomenon, I prolonged my digital examination, touching, squeezing, and feeling until my companion, frantic at the extended manipulation, exclaimed:
"I can't stand any more of that! Hurry up and let's do something!"
I straightened up and glanced out over the water. There was still no sign of other boating parties on the lake but the possibility that some might arrive at an inopportune moment suggested prudence.
"Let's go back behind those bushes," I suggested, "so that if anyone comes, they won't see us."
"All right!" she agreed, and jumped to her feet.
We retired to the relative seclusion of a clump of vegetation not far away, and which offered a slight shield from possible observation; there, raising her dress and holding it tucked under her chin, she began unfastening her panties.
As she fingered what seemed to me an interminable number of buttons, I dropped to my knees and endeavored to assist in the operation.
Freed, finally, the garment fell to her feet and she kicked it to one side, at the same time twisting the lower part of her dress around her waist. It was a pretty picture which was revealed by the subdued light of a crescent moon as she stood there with her bottom, thighs and legs down to the tops of her silk stockings exposed to my eager eyes.
I was still on my knees before her, when yielding to a sudden impulse, I pressed my mouth to the exposed surface of her stomach, below her navel. The skin was so refreshingly cool and smooth that for some moments I continued to caress it. Then I became aware of the contact of the softest and finest of silken hair against my chin. And with it came the sudden realization that is was a golden opportunity to try something which had long intrigued my fancy, a rare and precious opportunity, dropped right into my lap by the Gods of chance and good fortune.
My heart leaped with excitement, and without wasting a moment in speculation or deliberation I slipped my arms around her naked bottom, drew her closer, and … pressed my mouth right over her moist little cunt.
As I did so, I felt her hands on my head, trying to push me away.
"What are you trying to do?" she gasped.
But my tongue was already inside the valley.
Up and down between the wet lips it raced, pausing finally to centralize its caresses over and around the odd, tit shaped clitoris. And, as when I had petted it, it responded by stiffening out and increasing in size. I felt it throb violently each time my tongue passed over it, and my own cock began to jump in sympathy.
I stopped licking it, and getting the tip between my lips commenced to suck it.
"Don't do that!" she gasped again, but there was a strange disparity between her words and actions, for now, instead of trying to shove me away her fingers were entwined in my hair, and she was pulling me to her and at the same time had arched her body forward.
"Don't do … ah! Oh! Oh! Like that! Oh that feels nice! Oh! Oh! Oh! Don't stop! Don't stop!"
This clamor aroused me to a perfect frenzy, and I redoubled my efforts, intending to make her have orgasm once this way as quickly as I could, and afterward, put something bigger and stiffer than my tongue into her.
Suddenly I felt the muscles of her thighs tense, her clutch on my head tightened, I sensed something wet and sticky dripping from my lips and chin, something which seemed to react on my own sensibilities, and before I could rip open the front of my trousers, ejaculation was on me and the semen running down inside my clothing.
About the same moment, my companion's legs gave way beneath her, and we were in a confused tangle of bodies on the ground, with her on top. We lay still for a few moments panting, and when I recovered from the effects of my involuntary orgasm, I ruefully squeezed out the last few drops from my now wilting scepter of pleasure and wiped it off with my shirt tail.
She pulled her dress down over her naked bottom and stood up.
"Hurry up!" she urged, "it must be nine-thirty, and my father will come after me."
"Gee! I wanted to do it once the regular way before we went back!" I protested.
She glanced uncertainly at something which was hanging limply and flaccidly from my unbuttoned trousers.
"Your tiddie-widdie is all soft now. It won't go in that way. Will it get hard again?"
"Yes, if we wait a few minutes. It's still early."
"Well … if it doesn't take too long. Maybe I can make it get hard by jiggling it!"
Extending her hand she took the lethargic piece of flesh between her fingers and began to work the foreskin back and forth in an effort to restore its erectile inclinations.
She continued patiently, and in a few minutes I began to feel
the first pleasant glow of awakening virility.
"Look!" she giggled. "It's getting fatter already! I do this to my brother sometimes. He likes it. I sneak in his room in the morning before he gets up. He pretends to be asleep, and I juggle it until that white stuff squirts out!"
If anything had been lacking to quickly elevate my cock from its still rather somnolent and recumbent position, this opportune and disingenuous confidence fulfilled the requirement.
In instant response to the aphrodisiacal picture her words evoked it straightened out in turgid erection.
Spreading my coat out to protect her bottom from the rough ground I placed myself between her arched knees and a moment later, to the accompaniment of tremulous sighs and other expressions of delectation on her part, my cock was sliding back and forth between the tight folds of the mysterious domain where babies struggle to get out of and men pass most of their lives trying to get back into.
Resting my weight upon my hands on the ground, I looked down into the flushed face below. Her distended eyes and gasping breath told me that she was close to orgasm, and when a second later her legs flew up to clasp themselves across my back and her arms tightened around my neck I drove in the few final thrusts which were necessary to complete our mutual ecstasy.
Slowly I picked myself up from the ground. We dusted and straightened out our disordered clothing and returned to the boat.
No sooner had my companion seated herself than she arose again to exclaim in dismay?
"My panties! I forgot to put them back on!"
So back we went to where they were lying in solitary abandon, and as she stepped into them, I struck a match and glanced at my watch. It was exactly eleven o'clock.
"It's after nine-thirty now, isn't it?" she inquired anxiously.
"A little," I admitted.
Again we returned to the boat and were soon gliding shoreward.
"Did you like it … I mean the first way?" I asked, as I pulled at the oars.
"Oh, it was just wonderful! Nobody ever did that to me before," she added giggling. "That's the way the French do it, isn't it? A boy wanted to do it to me once, but I wouldn't let him. I didn't know it felt so good."
"Well, we'll do it again some time, if you want to. You can meet me at the park, we'll get a boat again."
"All right! And the next time you do it that way I'll …"
The phrase was never finished for as we approached the boat landing, the figure of a man detached itself from the shadows and came toward us.
"I'll bet that's my father?" she whispered uneasily.
A moment later she exclaimed:
"Why it's my brother! They've sent him after me. Don't tell him we were at the island! If he asks you tell him were just rowing around the lake!"
Disturbed by her evident alarm I slowly guided the boat up to the anchoring platform, as she stood up to get out, the brother, apparently a chap of about my own age, stepped up and exclaimed angrily:
"Where have you been all night?"
Without waiting for an answer, he seized her by the arm and glaring ferociously at me, hustled her off.
CHAPTER 3
So pleasantly and agreeably had my very first adventure in "Frenching" transpired that whatever linger doubts I many have entertained as to the esthetic considerations involved in the act were dispelled, nor did I thereafter permit fastidious scruples to deter me from taking entire advantage of such opportunities as came my way.
My experience and observation lead me to believe that the lingual caress is gratefully received by most females, although many through a feeling of shame will protest hypocritically at first. Their opposition generally melts rapidly under a little persuasion, or perhaps the employment of just enough force to provide an excuse for submission.
Women are by nature more lascivious than men but the precepts and inhibitions which are inculcated in them from puberty to maturity exercise a powerful restraint, and they automatically assume a hypocritical prudery they may be far from inwardly feeling. Few are ever able to completely free themselves of the belief that this pretense must be maintained even with the men who receive their most intimate favors.
I shall insert here a few episodes which though out of the chronological order of events I have attempted to follow in this biography, will nevertheless not be amiss as illustrations of the peculiarities I have made reference to.
Once, under a temporary domestic arrangement, I lived with a girl of very ardent disposition, who lent herself enthusiastically to every erotic fancy our youthful passions could suggest, and we were neither of us novices exactly. There was, therefore, no logical reason for the slightest degree of prudery between us.
It was my custom to arise at seven o'clock in the morning, and in order not to awaken her I always dressed and shaved quietly, and slipped out with the least possible noise. One morning I left our apartment at my accustomed hour, ate my breakfast in a nearby restaurant and was about to proceed t my office when I discovered that I had left papers in the apartment which I should have brought with me. So I retraced my steps and, supposing that Gabrielle, my companion, was still asleep, I turned the key quietly, intending to slip in and get my papers without disturbing her.
The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and as I put my hand on it to open it wide enough to permit my entry, a sight was unexpectedly revealed which caused me t remain where I was.
Gabrielle was awake, but she was not aware of my presence.
She had thrown back the covers, and with her night robe drawn up over her breasts was lying on her back, knees drawn up and legs separated. One round white arm was resting at her side but the other, not so innocently occupied, was extended down over her abdomen, her wrist was moving vigorously – and the tips of two fingers were lost to sight amid the glossy tendrils of hair at the base of her stomach.
In plain, vulgar, everyday words, my little Gabrielle was jacking herself off.
The sight reacted instantly and violently upon my own emotions. My first impulse, after observing the spectacle for a few moments, was to take off my clothes and delay my return to the office for half an hour or so, but it occurred to me that it might hurt her pride to know I had witnessed her act, thinking possibly I had intentionally spied upon her. But even as I hesitated undetermined, the episode came to a sudden conclusion. I heard a subdued gasp, the movement of her wrist was accelerated for a moment, then ceased and she relaxed languidly, closing her eyes. I slipped away from the door and quietly left the apartment.
The really curious termination of the incident referred to came a fortnight later. Business matters required that I make a trip from the city which signified three or four days absence from home. While I was discussing the matter with Gabrielle she remarked in a joking way that she didn't know how she was going to "get along without it" during the period of separation, to which I replied:
"Well, honey, you can do what you did before you had me, can't you?"
She looked at me in a startled way, and said:
"What do you mean, Gilbert?"
"I mean, you've still got your fingers, haven't you?"
when the significance of my words dawned on her in a wave of crimson passed over her cheeks and to my astonishment she exclaimed with great indignation:
"Why, I never did that in my life!"
"What! Never?"
"No! Never!"
"Not even once, honey?"
On another occasion I was discussing with a feminine acquaintance the subject of suppressed longings and inhibitions. She was twenty-five or twenty-six years old, had been married, but was separated from her husband.
I had expressed my belief that there was no person living, who did not carry in his or her heart a secret longing for some particular form of sexual gratification which had never been indulged, either because of lack of opportunity or inhibition through fear or shame. Something in the look she cast at me, or in the way she quickly averted her eyes, told me that in her case at least I had hit the nail on the
head. Curious to confirm the supposition, I urged her to confess.
"Come now! Own up! Isn't there something naughty you've wanted to try for a long time, but never dared?"
She made no immediate reply but the color of her cheeks wsa proof enough of the accuracy of my surmise. It took a lot of coaxing and encouraging, but I finally got the story.
When she was seventeen, she had known a young man who courted her assiduously for a brief period. The courtship had not resulted in anything serious, although he was a likable young fellow. Later he moved from the neighborhood and she had never seen him again, though she remembered him with some affection.
Some years later and while married, she had a dream in which this young man figured prominently. In this dream she was standing naked before a tall mirror brushing her hair. While so engaged, he appeared in the room and kneeling on the floor before her, he separated the lips of her genitals with his fingers and sucked her clitoris until she had or dreamed she had orgasm. And ever since, had suffered an inordinate longing, a longing she had never before voiced, to have a man do it to her exactly as in this dream – she standing named before a mirror, and he kneeling at her feet while she brushed her hair.
Needless t say, I volunteered to help her convert the dream into immediate reality, but no quicker were the words off my lips than with flaming cheeks she fled from the room, and locked herself in the bathroom, and it was half an hour before I could coax her to come out.
Here was a girl who for years had ardently and passionately longed for a certain form of sexual gratification and yet, when the opportunity was at hand, shame prevented her from taking advantage of it.
Later, I put my cave-man tactics of "take it first and ask afterward" into effect, and had satisfaction of "bringing" her several times in rapid succession by the famous French method, although unsupplemented by mirror or hair brushes.
Another instance of feminine curiosity which for naïve simplicity and ingenuousness certainly took the prize, comes t my mind with the recollection of a little sixteen year old, whom I succeeded in coaxing into my room on several occasions while living in a boarding house her widowed mother presided over. Subsequently our meetings were effected late at night after the mother had gone to sleep, the girl slipping into my room when all was quiet in the house. She was an innocent appearing little damsel and I hesitated to take full advantage of the situation until I heard from her own lips that she had already been initiated, and by no other person than her own uncle – a man of forty-five, and who lived under the same roof.