by AnonYMous
"Because it interest me to know, honey!"
"Well, sometimes it did!"
"Tell me about the first time, honey, your wedding night."
"What is there to tell?"
"Did it hurt?"
"Yes, a little, at first!"
"And after that … did it feel good?"
"Yes! But not as good as it does with you! His didn't go in as far as yours does. It was lots smaller, too. It really felt better with that awful Mr. Tucker I told you about than it did with him!"
She laughed hysterically at the recollection.
"I'll swear, honey, that was the funniest thing I ever heard of. I can't figure out how you ever got up the nerve to go through with it. And the better I know you, the stranger it seems."
"I just made myself into another person that night!"
"You must have a natural genius for acting, tucked away in you. I'd like to see you undergo a metamorphosis like that myself … that is," I added hastily, " … with me, not with some other chap!"
"I don't know how much genius I have in me, but I do know there's something else tucked in me that's nearly setting me wild!"
"Honey," I coaxed, "tell me something real naughty! When two persons really share love and understand each other the sharing of little intimate confidences is one of life's sweetest pleasures! I tell you every thing that occurs to me, but you keep your thoughts locked up so tight they cant even be dropped out!"
In the strained expression of her face and in her rapid breathing the effect of the erotic situation and conversation was discernable. I pressed closer to he and caressed her breasts.
"Oh!" she murmured faintly, and undulated her hips.
"Lie still, honey!" I warned.
"Gilbert! You're setting me crazy! That thing …!"
"Now, now!" I exclaimed, "Think about something else!"
"Gilbert … I … I'll tell you something … you may be shocked …" and she paused uncertainly.
"You can't shock me, darling!"
"Well, you know … what I did tonight … in the car … I've been wanting to do that so bad ever since the first time you did it to me, that I couldn't hardly keep from it!"
"Why didn't you then, darling?" I asked in some surprise.
"I was ashamed to, but I was wishing all the time you'd make me do it!"
"Make you do it?"
"Yes! I was just longing for you to grab me and make me take it in my mouth! But you never made the slightest effort," she added resentfully, "not even when I was lying with my face right against it!"
"Great heavens!" I said to myself. "And I'm the chap who thought he knew all the wrinkles of feminine psychology!"
"Gilbert … I'll tell you something else … women like to be made to do things, not asked! … Then they don't have to feel ashamed afterward … oh!" she added in a tense whisper, "it does feel good this way!" and she wriggled he bottom again.
"Lie still, honey!"
"Well, you tell me something now. Tell me some more about Paris!"
She listened with glowing cheeks while I described several of the spectacles I had witnessed in the French capital and though her thighs quivered frequently in response to the muscular twitchings of the cock which was engulfed to the hilt in her warm flesh, she remained fairly quiet. When I had concluded, she whispered:
"Gilbert, do you suppose there are girls here in London who do that with other women, like those French girls?"
"Plenty of them, honey."
"Gilbert … " she paused, and there was something in her tone which told me that another secret was going to be imparted to me, "Gilbert, I … it sounds dreadful, but do you know…" and she stopped again in confusion.
"Go on, honey."
"Well … I'd like to have another woman do it to me … just once … I believe …" and she began to giggle.
"What do you believe, sweetheart?"
"Oh, nothing!"
"Come on now, what is it?"
"Well, I bet a woman can do that better than a man!"
"You little witch! That's a slam on me! Don't you think I do it well enough? From the racket you make one wouldn't think there was any room for improvement!"
"Oh, Gilbert, dearest, I really didn't mean that the way it sounded. It's just heavenly the way you do it. I mean … oh, I don't know how to explain just exactly what I do mean!" and there was another burst of hysterical giggles.
"You fibbed to me the other night!" she added a moment later.
"Fibbed to you?"
"Yes; fibbed to me."
"About what, honey?"
"When you said I was the first woman you ever did that to."
Not knowing whether it would be more discreet to deny, or confess my guilt, I hedged with another question.
"What makes you think I fibbed about it, darling?"
"Ha! You know too much for a novice. I realized that, after thinking about it a little. Don't think I'm so silly as to be jealous about what you did before you knew me. I don't blame you. I bet …" she continued, "if I were a man, I'd do it with every woman I liked!"
"How would you manage that, honey?"
"I'd make them! They're just pretending they don't want to most of the time. Men are silly! And you're just like all the rest of them!"
"Well, give me a few pointers, sweetheart! Maybe I'll learn!"
"Asking me if you could do it to me that French way! Why didn't you just pull my legs apart and to it without asking me? I was crazy to try it, but I was ashamed to say so! You made me so darn mad! And asking me to let you see me naked – you're big enough to lift my nightgown up and look at me all you want without my helping you, aren't you?"
This discourse was delivered so seriously, and yet with expression so comical on her face that it convulsed me with laughter.
"You may be right, in part, honey," I said, when I had recovered my composure, "but sometimes there are exceptions which might make that a doubtful rule to follow. A man must be sure his attentions are welcome before he goes too far. And no man with any instincts of a gentleman wants to force anything on a woman against her wishes."
"Maybe you're right, sweetheart. I'll follow your advice hereafter!"
"You old darling, you've been so good to me I don't believe I could really get mad at you if I tried."
"Happy with me, sweetheart?"
"Happier than I ever was before in my life, even if you do tease me to do naughty things. Oh Gilbert … move it a little, please, I can't be still a second longer!"
Despite my efforts to oblige her to remain quiet, she began to undulate her hips, frantically, pressing her genitals against me until I too was caught in the current of passion. Leaning over I clasped my hand tightly over her mouth, while the turbulent waves rocked our bodies.
"What did it feel like, sweetheart?"
She sat up, looked at me for a moment, and then burst into laughter.
"It felt like somebody turned a hose on inside me! That's just what it felt like! Now is there anything else you want to know … or see … or try?"
The next day I took my time to pay a visit to a certain neighborhood not entirely unfamiliar to me by reputation, which visit brought as its result an appointment with a petite little German fraulein, who was resented to me under the name of Freda. She listened attentively to my words, smiled at some of my observations, and summed up her answer in the following concise terms:
"One pound, and one extra for going out."
"We won't quarrel over price. There'll still be another pound if you manage well."
"I'll manage it all right."
"Very well. Be ready for me to pick you up here at eight o'clock."
I telephoned to Edyth, and told her I would be a little late that evening, and would eat downtown, suggesting at the same time that she prepare herself for a real nice "special" evening at home.
"I haven't forgotten the good advice you gave me!" I added in conclusion, and heard a silvery giggle in response as I hung up.
I r
eached the apartment about nine o'clock and the blond fraulein was with me. Edyth looked from one to the other in surprise as I presented the girl, saying that she was a little friend of mine I wanted Edyth to know. She acknowledged the introduction in a friendly way though she continued to gaze questioningly at the visitor.
Acting on the suggestion conveyed by my telephonic references to a "special" evening, she had dressed herself in coquettish dishabille, not dreaming, of course, that I intended to bring anyone with me. It was evident that she was burning with curiosity regarding the German damsel, and her eyes followed me reproachfully for my failure to enlighten her regarding the mysterious visitor.
After a bit of aimless conversation I suggested that she bring in some wine, and she arose and went into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of the room, I whispered to the fraulein I would speak to her alone a moment, and followed her.
As soon as I entered the room Edyth pressed up to me and said:
"Gilbert! Who is that girl?"
"Why, you expressed a wish last night, honey, to try something and I fixed it for you."
"Gilbert … what on earth do you mean?"
"You said you'd like to have another woman French you once. That's what she's here for."
"Gilbert!" she exclaimed, in horrified tones. "I was just talking! I wouldn't let her do that to me! I'd die of shame."
"Oh, yes, you will let her, sweetheart. Remember, you gave me some good advice, too. Something about 'making' girls do things without asking permission first!"
"I won't let her, Gilbert! I won't even go back in the parlor while she's here!"
"Darling, you're going to let her even if I have to hold you down while she does it! You run into the bedroom now, and get ready! Here … drink your wine first!"
She was about to voice further protests, but I interrupted:
"I mean it, honey. There's no use arguing!"
She took the glass I was proffering her, drank its contents slowly and set it down.
"All right then, if your going to start giving orders! I'll go in the bedroom and wait for her. But don't think you're going to watch! I couldn't, Gilbert! I just couldn't! I'd die of mortification! It will be bad enough, alone with her!"
It assuredly was no part of my plan to be absent while the experiment was in progress; however, I promised her that I would stay outside, promising myself at the same time that I would not be far from the keyhole.
"All right! I'll go in the bedroom but don't let her come in for a few minutes," she added, blushing, "until I fix myself up!"
She threw her arms around my neck, clung to me a moment, and murmured:
"I'd rather it was you, though! I was only half in earnest when I said that. I never dreamed you'd take it seriously. But I'll go through with it now!"
"Maybe there'll be some left over for me afterwards!" I said and I ran my hand up under her dress between her legs.
She slipped down the hall, and I heard the bedroom door close behind her. I picked up the remaining glasses, took them to the parlor, gave one to Miss Freda, and drank the other.
"What did she say?" inquired the girl, who was aware that Edyth had not at first known the purpose of her visit.
"She didn't make as much fuss as I thought she would. She's in the bedroom waiting for you now."
"Are you coming in, too?"
"No," I said regretfully. "She drew the line on that."
"Too bad!" said the fraulein, with a half sympathetic, half cynical smile.
She arose and I conducted her to the bedroom. She opened the door softly, stepped inside, and closed it behind her. I remained in the hall, listening attentively. At first I heard nothing but the subdued tones of the lesbian's soft voice, answer in almost indistinguishable monosyllables by Edyth. "You're awfully bashful, aren't you, darling? … You don't have to be with me … I'm only another woman just like you … Oh, what perfectly beautiful bubbies … I'll bet your husband is just crazy about them, isn't he? … Why, your skin is simply marvelous! … As smooth and white as a baby's! … and no hair except where it ought to be … Do you know, in my country when a woman's hair down here is soft and silky instead of crisp, they say it's a sign of aristocratic blood … Oh, you sweet thing! If you were mine, I'd just love you to death!"
I kneeled down to pear through the keyhole but rose again cursing under my breath. Something was draped over it from the opposite side of the door, and my vision was blocked. Again I pressed my ear to one of the door panels. Through it came the slight sound of rustling garments, the creaking of bedsprings as they ceded to the weight of moving bodies. "Now you lie perfectly still, darling. Let me do everything. Just relax and enjoy yourself!" Then a silence, unbroken except for the barely audible movement of bedsprings.
At last a faint, but expressive and long drawn out "Ooooh!" broke the silence, followed at short intervals by others subdued in tone yet pregnant with emotion.
Something down in the front of my trousers began to hitch itself upward, expanding in size as it did so.
The exclamations continued, and became more audible. The temptation was too much for me, and dropping my hand down on the doorknob I turned it softly exerting a slight pressure at the same time. The knob moved, but the door didn't. Again I had been outwitted, for Edyth had taken all the necessary precautions to see that I kept my promise, regardless of whether I changed my mind about it or not, and had latched the door.
The music on the other side of the door was now beginning to run uo the chromatic scale in a way which, by experience, indicated the proximity of orgasm. It culminated in a crescendo of vibrant moans and cries, and died away.
Another long silence and then I heard the sound of moving feet on the floor, the murmur of voices – words I couldn't distinguish. Quickly I straightened up, and returned to the parlor.
A few minutes later the door opened and the lesbian came out. She came alone. Edyth remained in the bedroom. The girl smiled, and nodded her head as though assuring me that all had gone well. She was evidently not disposed to linger, and when she had adjusted her hat over the blond curls I handed her three pound notes.
"Here is my address and phone number in case she wants me again," she whispered, and she slipped a small card in my hand as I opened the door.
Edyth had not reappeared, so I went into the bedroom. A seductive vision met my eyes. She was lying stretched out on the bed with nothing to cover her charms except a short silk vest, which barely reached the upper border of the soft curls which the lesbian had called "aristocratic." The round, tapered legs were extended out languidly, parted just sufficiently to reveal the cleft which divided the two halves of the alter of Venus, faintly visible under the little curls and ringlets of chestnut hair which formed its natural curtain.
She said nothing, nor even attempted to cover her nakedness as I gazed down upon her. I was still tingling with excitement, and needed nothing more inspiring than this vision to stimulate me to quick action. I undressed as quickly as I could, and lay down by her. A second later my mouth was on her cunt, still moist from its recent spendings. She had not uttered a word and had hardly moved except to further separate her legs to better accommodate my caress, but within a few seconds after my tongue found her clitoris, the usual pandemonium was loose. I raised my head in dismay. My first thought was to make her hold a pillow over her face but, even as I reached for one, a better way to quiet her occurred to me.
"Here! Put this in your mouth and let's see whether it won't choke off some of that noise!" I exclaimed, and I turned around on the bed in a direction contrary to that in which I had been lying. My cock was now projected before her face, and without hesitation her mouth opened and received it. And while her tongue curled softly around the sensitive gland, my own mouth again attached itself firmly to the humid aperture between her thighs. My tongue penetrated the most recondite depths; it played along the length of the valley and danced in circles around and over the little tit shaped protuberance which raised to meet it and then shr
ank back coquettishly. Almost unconsciously, my hips were moving forward and backward, my cock sank half its length into her mouth.
Did it stop the noise?
Not exactly, but it did transform it from highly audible shrieks to something of a more subdued nature, a sort of gurgling, gasping, glug-glug-glug, which might possibly be mistaken, if overheard, for the sound of water being drained from the wash basin!
I didn't try to delay things. As soon as I perceived that she was ready for orgasm, I let go, and as the warm essence from her ovaries baptized my face, her own lips received their spermatic recompense.
When all was finished, she pushed me to one side and leaning over the edge of the bed, spit out a mouthful.
"Part of it went down my throat again!" she gasped, comically.
A few minutes later I murmured in her ear:
"How was it that way, darling?"
"Oh, that was the best of all!" she exclaimed fervently.
"And the girl…?"
"Oh, it was wonderful!"
"Better than with me?"
"No … not better … but…" and she began to laugh hysterically, "the way she did it ws wonderful, and the way you do it is wonderful, too!" was her ambiguous answer.
"Did she do it different from the way I do it?"
"Yes!"
"Different in what way?" I asked, somewhat perplexed.
"Well, she … oh, I can't tell you!" and she went into another fit of laughter.
While I was pondering over this mystery, her demeanor became serious, and she murmured in a rather preoccupied voice:
"Gilbert … tell me something … am I different in some way form other women?"
"Sure you are, darling! You're sweeter and nicer and you have prettier titties, and legs, and arms than any other…"
"Oh, Gilbert, you old exaggerator!" she interrupted. "I don't mean in that way. I mean … down here…" and she motioned toward the juncture of her thighs.
"What makes you ask that, honey?"
"Well … that girl … there was something odd … she kept looking, and feeling … why, you would have thought she was a man, and I was the first woman she ever saw … she acted just like you did the first time you … kind of … oh, I don't know … as though there was something strange about me. Maybe it was just my imagination."