by AnonYMous
"Will you hush up?"
"And they've got it marked … it will be gone before noon tomorrow."
"No!"
"Just once, to see what it's like."
"No! No! No!"
And she jumped up and fled into the bedroom.
Snickering to myself, I again picked up my paper.
A few minutes later she was back again, and as I glanced at her I saw that her cheeks were still red. She appeared to have something she wished to say, and I waited expectantly.
"Gilbert …" she murmured, and hesitated uncertainly.
"Well, honey?"
"Gilbert … did you … really mean … what you said?"
"About what, darling?"
"That if I let you do that to me once, you'd buy me that coat?"
With each word the color in her face became more vivid.
"Of course, I mean it, honey! I wouldn't go back on my word."
There was a long silence during which her eyes were turned toward the floor.
"Well … all right, then!"
"Hurrah!" I exclaimed, "I've been wanting to try that so bad I just couldn't hardly wait for you to say yes!" and jumping from my chair, I lifted her up in my arms, kissed her flushed cheeks and then stood her back on the floor.
"Just this once, now, remember that!"
"Well, hurry up then and come to bed and get it over with!"
As she stood there, with cheeks blazing and eyes averted, an idea occurred to me by which an additional touch of the exotic might be added to the delicious rite and without saying anything to her, I immediately began clearing off the big library table. When I had removed its diverse ornaments and utilities, I told her to bring a blanket and pillow for the bedroom.
"What for?" she asked in bewilderment.
"For you to lie on, honey. I'm going to put them on the table."
"On the table?" she gasped.
"Yes, on the table honey. Just like a big luscious piece of strawberry shortcake. Only this shortcake won't need any cream or sugar."
"Gilbert!" she exclaimed, in a horrified voice.
"With the coat you'll be the prettiest girl in London."
"Gilbert! I am NOT going to get up on that table!"
"Genuine ermine, too. The rest of the ladies around here will be green with envy." I continued, and without waiting for her to execute the order I went myself into the bedroom, obtained the articles referred to and arranged them neatly on the massive table.
She watched my preparations to serve her up like a plate of after-dinner dessert as though paralyzed. I could hardly contain myself, but I managed to keep a straight face, and when all was arranged to my satisfaction, I said:
"All right, honey! Now you can take your clothes off!"
CHAPTER 9
Mechanically, her fingers unfastened the belt of the dressing robe and she removed the garment. Chemise, panties, hose and slippers remained. Without divesting herself of any of these, moving as one in a hypnotic trance, she slowly approached the table.
"Your panties, darling! Aren't you going to take them off? I can't do that while you have them on!"
"Well, for heaven's sake! I can take them off after you turn out the light, can't I?"
"But darling, I'm not going to put out the light. I couldn't see to do it right in the dark!"
"Gilbert! I'm not going to get on that table naked, with the lights on! I won't do it!"
"Honey, you're the most persistent little 'no' girl I ever met in my life. I'll tell you what we can do. I'll turn them out, except just the mantel light."
I pressed the button which controlled the cluster of lights above the table, extinguishing them, and turned on a shaded glove on one side of the fireplace mantel. It illuminated the room with a soft pink refulgence.
"All right, sweetheart. Now you can take off your panties and get up on the table."
"Well, turn around then, and don't look at me!"
"I can't see what difference it makes if I look!" but I turned my back obediently.
When I looked around again, the panties were off.
Under the tinted, subdued rays of light her arms and shoulders and such other proportions of her bare flesh as were visible, glowed rosily. I lifted her up and set her upon the edge of the table, and with the idea of stimulating her sensibilities I filled a goblet with wine and handed it to her. She drank it and after disposing of the empty glass I gently pushed her down on her back with her knees over the edge of the table.
These preliminaries were of course affording me the most delicious thrills imaginable. In all my experience, I had never "Frenched" a girl under more enticing circumstances. My cock was in a state which threatened the integrity of the buttons of my trousers, and the first thing I did after I got her stretched out on the table was to unfasten them and allow it its freedom.
I leaned over her and slipped up the silk underwaist she had pulled down over her thighs. Her limbs quivered as I raised it, and she placed an arm upward until her breasts were completely exposed in the rosy light. With this detail complete, I drew up a chair, and placing it close to the table, sat down.
True to form, when she had lain down on the table she had clenched her legs together as tightly as she could – but I let this pass for the moment, and contented myself with caressing her legs, hips, thighs and breasts with my hands. Then, pressing my lips to one of her legs, just above the top of her stocking and dripping kisses along the route I began an upward journey. Her limbs twitched and quivered as though each kiss were an electric shock. When my lips reached the place where a dark triangle of curly hair marked the juncture of her thighs, I hitched the chair a little closer, and placing my hands on her knees, endeavored to separate them. At first they seemed disinclined to part, so I applied a little more force and gradually as I continued to urge them with a firm pressure, they began to yield.
And now, under the rose tinted light, my little sweetheart's sexual flower with its border of dark chestnut curls was revealed. I separated the moist lips, and the little tit shaped protuberance in their upper extremity, which my fingers had often caressed but my eyes never before contemplated, came into view. This was the naughty little thing which caused her to moan and squeal and go into hysterical fits whenever it was petted, and I gazed at it curiously. And even as I looked, it began to expand perceptibly in size, as though excited at merely being viewed. It stiffened out, and then shrank back slightly, repeating the process at intervals of a few seconds. I placed my finger tip upon it. It was hard and firm and pulsated vigorously to my touch.
"Are you deliberately trying to drive me crazy?" she exclaimed, in a tense indignant whisper.
"Well for heaven's sake! How much longer are you going to look?"
"Lie down, sweetheart. I won't look anymore if you don't want me to!"
She lay down again, still murmuring indignant protests and an instant later my face was between her thighs. Up and down the length of the humid cleft my tongue scurried and finally settled down to work in earnest on her clitoris. It rose valiantly to meet the attack and projected itself outward.
And then pandemonium broke loose.
Grimly, I stayed at the post – indifferent for once as to whether the neighbors might think I was slaughtering her and beak in the door or call the police. Between her writhings, twisting and kicking it was all I could do to keep my tongue on the right spot. Part of the time her legs wee sticking straight out on either side of me – part of the time they were flying up and down in a fantastic dance and part of the time they were clasped about my neck she raised herself on her wrists, she dropped back and tried to elevate her bottom, she twisted and wriggled until I was obliged to seize her by the hips to hold her still. No adequate reproduction of the shrieks, moans, and exclamations with which she emphasized her frenzy is possible.
How many times she had orgasm I couldn't determine but the nectar of love was dripping within a minute or so after I had first gotten my mouth on her.
Finally, I felt
her body relax. She put her hands on my head, and gasped:
"I can't stand anymore, Gilbert!"
The performance had produced such a tension in my own nerves that I was not far from spontaneous ejaculation. Under the pressure of her hands on my forehead, I reluctantly yielded my position. Sliding the chair back I got up, went to the bathroom, brought out a moistened towel and sponged her thighs. It was the first time I had ever performed such an intimate service for her, but she was too exhausted to protest.
Picking her up in my arms, I carried her to our sleeping quarters, laid her down on the bed and sat down on the edge by her side.
A bit later we were cuddled up in each other's arms, in bed.
"Gilbert…"
"You don't have to buy me that coat. And … and…"
"And what, darling?"
"If you like to do that … you can do it again … sometime!"
"When?"
"Oh, when you want to! Tomorrow if you like!"
"That's a bargain, you little old sweet thing! Tell me honey, how did it feel?"
"Hush up!"
"But, darling, after going to all that trouble just to find out?"
"Well, what do you want to know?"
"I just want to know whether it felt nice."
"Yes! Yes!"
"Better than the other way?"
"No … yes … oh, I don't know! Now will you stop talking about it?"
Needless to say, she got the coat. And from that time on I enjoyed numerous special after-dinner desserts on the big library table.
One day, not long after her first surrender to cunnilingus, a matter came up, which obliged me to make a business trip to a nearby city and as the weather was pleasant it occurred to me to take her with me. It was a four hour drive by automobile so I rented a car and chauffeur for the day.
The business being satisfactorily concluded by mid-afternoon, we had dinner in a local restaurant and started back home in the evening. After an hour on the road, Edyth, who had gotten up earlier that morning than was her custom, nestled against me and went to sleep.
The position in which she had placed herself brought her cheek in close contact with a certain portion of my trousers where ordinarily a little extra allowance is made in the cloth for something besides leg. This something, always responsive to the slightest attention, and easily awakened, answered the warmth and pressure of her cheek by increasing rapidly in size. And as the pressure was not removed, it continued to expand until it reached the limit of its expansional capacity, and thereafter gave evidence of its appreciation by a series of throbs and muscular contractions.
I supposed that Edyth was now fast asleep but in this I was somewhat mistaken, for before long she stirred again. This time she raised her head slightly, her hand moved up and her fingers began unfastening the buttons on the front of my trousers. The hand slipped inside and after a bit of fumbling with interior garments came out with something warm, stiff and rigid clasped in her fingers. She adjusted the blanket so that it entirely covered her head and lay down again this time with my naked cock under her cheek.
I reached over and snapped out the small electric light which illuminated the interior of the car, and sat quietly with my cock throbbing between the constriction of her cheek and my own leg. Had she been one of the many women I had associated with previously, there would not have been anything in this to surprise me, but Edyth, despite the fact that she always yielded to my coaxing, never, herself, took the lead in any of our little adventures in concupiscence. Her action was, therefore, quite out of the ordinary.
However, I was destined for a still greater surprise.
She moved again, releasing the prisoner from beneath her face. But its freedom was only temporary, and to my amazement, I suddenly felt a pair of lips close about it. I sat perfectly still. The lips remained motionless for a moment, and then advanced, so that a considerably large portion of my cock was within their embrace. Another short interval of inactivity and then I perceived the pull of strong, vigorous suction and the action of a hot little tongue playing over the exposed head. So energetic and determined was the caress, that in sixty seconds or less, my testicles were threatening to release their hoarding. I placed my hand on her head to ease her away until I could again get control of the situation. But instead of surrendering the menacing thing, she pushed my hand away and sucked still harder. And before I could avoid it, the seminal reservoirs were emptying their contents in her mouth. When I finally got free of her, I hastily handed her a handkerchief, and whispered:
"Spit it out, sweetheart!"
"I can't!" she gasped, "it went down my throat!"
"All right, all right!" I replied, hurriedly, "it won't hurt you!"
And I lifted her up in my arms and set her on my lap.
Surprises had come thick and fast, but the final one was still to come. She suddenly burst into tears and sobbed as though her heart were breaking.
"What in the world is the matter, darling?" I asked, in utter consternation.
"Oh, Gilbert … I shouldn't have done that … you'll think I'm a bad woman now! I don't know what came over me!"
"My sweetheart! I've done the same thing to you lots of times. Why should I think you're a bad woman?"
"You're a man. That's different. Men can do what they want to. Oh, I shouldn't have done it. Something just came over me and made me want to so bad I couldn't help it. Oh, oh, oh! Whatever will you think of me now?"
"Edyth, my dearest!" I exclaimed. "Stop talking that nonsense. When a woman does that to a man, it's the greatest proof she can offer him of her affection, and if he didn't appreciate it as such, he wouldn't be worthy of her! Now stop crying right this instant!"
When I got her tranquilized she would her arms around my neck and showered me with such passionate kisses as caused me to suspect that the favor she had done me had provoked a reciprocal congestion in her own little ovaries, and that something was probably begging for attention.
I slipped my hand up under her dress and inside her panties. As I had divined, her genitals were dripping wet, and her clitoris standing up rigidly. She trembled as my fingers came in contact with it, placed her hand over mine, squeezed it tightly for a moment between her thighs, and then gently withdrew it.
"Wait until we get home, Gilbert!" she whispered.
And the low but vibrant words augured an enjoyable termination to the adventure later.
"Are you going to let me do it to you that way too, honey?"
Her consent for once was given without any hypocritical evasions, though she hid her face against my neck as she replied:
"Yes, if you want to!"
We reached home a little after eleven. After a bath, and some refreshments, the big table was prepared in the customary manner, the rose shaded light turned on, and she stretched out voluptuously on the soft comforter while I, in pajamas, sat down in a chair between her swinging legs.
But hardly had my tongue begun to work on her clitoris that I was obliged to halt its activities because of the terrific clamor she immediately set up.
"Heavens!" I exclaimed, "You'll wake everybody in the building, honey!"
"I can't help it!" she gasped.
"Here! Hold this over your mouth!" and I handed her a towel.
Obediently she held it over her lips, and again I sought out the little swollen tit shaped protuberance with my tongue. She gurgled and sputtered but the multiple folds of the towel which she pressed faithfully to her mouth toned down the noise to less startling proportions.
After her first spent had bathed my lips and cheeks she threw the towel aside and sat up. Her face was as red as a peony.
"Gilbert!" she panted, "I haven't had enough, I…"
"All right, honey! Just lie still a minute!" and I pushed her back down in a reclining position.
As she lay there with her legs hanging over the edge of the table it occurred to me that this table might be adapted to another pleasant exercise and I stood up to make a hasty calc
ulation. The height appeared to be about right.
"Slide further down on the table toward me, as far as you can, honey … now put your knees up … double them back over your stomach and hold them with your hands … that's right … just like that!"
The sharp angle projected her genitals outward between her thighs in the most prominent manner and by standing there against her I would be able to penetrated the most interior depths. I unfastened my pajamas, meanwhile casting a contemplative glance at the rosy lips projected forward. They were a pear with a gash cut down through it from end to end, a pear cut lengthwise in two sections with little ringlets of brown hair adorning the upper extremities. I pressed closer and inserted the head of my cock between the two halves of the scarlet, pear-shaped projection. A vibrant exclamation issued from the lips of the young lady to whom the pear belonged and her fingers gripped the edges of the table on either side of her. My cock slid further in, and still further until at last it was completely within the pleasant refuge and I felt soft tendrils of hair pressing against my groin. All I had to offer her was inside – all but my testicles, and these were compressed between the cheeks of her bottom.
"Now, darling," I said, recalling Irma's psychic aphrodisiacs, "I'm not going to move it for a while, and don't you try to wriggle, either. Just lie still. Don't even think about it. Put your thoughts on something else. Tell me about some of your experiences – things that happened to you before you knew me."
"Gilbert!" she exclaimed in a suffocated voice, "How can I think of anything else with that thing inside me, jumping that way … it does, every few seconds?"
"Don't pay any attention to it! Talk about something else!"
"Well, what am I going to talk about?" she gasped.
"Tell me about your first experience."
"I never had any until I was married!"
"But you knew about things before you were married?"
"Yes! The girls were always talking about it!"
"How old were you then?"
"Oh, thirteen or fourteen!"
"And knowing about it, didn't that make you curious to try it?"
"I … Gilbert! … What are you asking me such questions for?"