Eroticon 1

by J. P. Spencer

  She slid her hands under the hips and ran them all around the firm, tense balls of bottom. What an excellent little bottom.

  She squeezed and worked its pliable bulk as she sucked and licked. The buttocks tightened and relaxed in her hands, swinging wildly in torment. The girl had become a raging form of sexuality. There seemed nothing left of her except a moaning, writhing mass of sensual flesh.

  Lucrezia pulled the buttocks apart forcibly. They were hot in the crack between them. There were a few hairs and then a sweating smoothness. Her fingers slipped over it like little snakes.

  The anus nestled there, unprotected now and she rifled it with her fingers the way she'd liked her lovers to intrude in hers. And Carlotta had no reticence any longer. She didn't even try to press her backside cheeks together. On the contrary she pressed them wide and back so that Lucrezia's finger actually penetrated the anus, the tight little ring of flesh, near to her sucking lips.

  She used her tongue on the clitoris which seemed so big as to be unreal. There was a taste of salt and parsley in her mouth; the liquid was running over her face, growing into a torrent.

  Above, out of sight, she heard Carlotta's sob.

  'Oh, oh, it's here, it's here,' she heard her cry, out of control.

  She sucked even more furiously, jabbing her finger deeply into the tight, tearing hole. She was terribly excited herself. She got a vicarious pleasure from the girl's helpless passion.

  Following on her gasped out words, Carlotta twisted first one way and then the other in a quick, shivering convulsion. Her mouth opened wide and a continuous moan of sound exploded from it as she clasped her thighs around Lucrezia's head and squeezed.

  The grip on Lucrezia was strong and suffocating, but she bore it until it slowly relaxed and the thighs fell away.

  She straightened up, realising just how hot her loins had become. A little longer and she'd probably have come herself.

  She looked at Carlotta. The girl seemed to have collapsed in a coma. She lay with her head thrown back dramatically, her arms wide out beside her head. Her eyes were closed, her breasts heaving in a great swell of emotion.

  Lucrezia lay down alongside her and kissed her shoulder. After a while she spoke.

  'Wasn't that worth a year in a convent? Isn't it worth anything on earth?'

  Carlotta's eyes opened slowly, sleepily. She'd lost all trace of her early embarrassment.

  'I feel purged,' she said softly. 'I feel satisfied and purged of all the frustration and not knowing that I've ever felt.'

  Lucrezia smiled at her and kissed her bare arm.

  'You obviously enjoyed it,' she agreed. 'Your enjoyment was so infectious that I almost had a climax myself.'

  Carlotta opened her eyes again and looked at her.

  Realisation had dawned that there were, of course, two of them, that Lucrezia had given her undreamed-of pleasure, that it was now up to her to reciprocate.

  'I'm not at all expert,' she said. 'I shan't know what to do.'

  Lucrezia began to quiver with anticipation.

  'Just do what I did,' she said with a break in her voice. 'And that will be wonderful.'

  'I have got to get my breath back a moment.'

  They lay together for a few minutes longer. Lucrezia could hardly wait and she kept pressing her round belly against Carlotta's side and tensing her pelvis against her.

  'God, I want it very badly!' she muttered.

  At that Carlotta turned over toward her and she fell backwards on the bed. She lay there staring up at the ceiling concentrating on herself, looking inward at the sensation inside her.

  She felt the warm face come down on her breasts. To Carlotta her breasts were enormous in comparison with her own. They just asked to be nestled against, to be used as a pillow in which to bury one's face.

  The face brushed against the tight, hurting points of her breasts, piquing her with a spearpoint of ecstatic pain that rushed straight to her genitals. And then those cool, well-defined lips closed on her nipple in a soft, fondling grip that made her squirm already.

  They began to suck, drawing her pear of breast into the mouth, drawing it in, in, swallowing it, sucking it, pulverizing it with sharp, needed pain.

  Lucrezia's legs began to jerk in spasms and the unknown fingers slid down her body, the image of her own, and went straight to the spot which played no timid games with them but waited, wide open like a trap, thighs wide apart and squirming.

  Lucrezia held her breath waiting for the contact, expecting it, but still jumping with delight when it came. Cool fingers caressed her long, deep cleft which was stinging as the juices were washed into it from her inner regions.

  The fingers explored like timid animals - and everywhere they touched and slid they left a burning, a prickling sense of near-destruction.

  Lucrezia groaned. She liked to groan. She let the groans escape from her mouth - not that she could really have controlled them - to show her appreciation of what was being done to her.

  Then with a sudden jump she felt the fingertips find her little erection. That was too much. She squirmed her hips in a movement that was almost circular, that was wild, exaggerated.

  And the fingers were relentless. They pressed there, loved there, pinched there, gave no quarter although her moans became helpless sobs of passion.

  Lucrezia felt her hole growing wide. The love-juice was swamping, too, and her belly was in unbearable torment. There couldn't be much more to go.

  'Your mouth, your mouth!' she pleaded.

  The fingers came out of her sultry cleft giving her a brief respite. But they were replaced immediately by a pair of cool lips which seized on her clitoris, sending a shock through her whole body.

  'Oh, wonderful, wonderful!' she gasped. She could hardly utter the words. They tumbled out in a rush of sound which was mostly escaping breath, wheezing out like steam from a hot spring.

  The mouth was working hard, giving her no chance to catch her breath. She was out of breath as if she'd been running hard.

  And then the hands, remembering, slid around her hips and dug handfuls from her big buttocks, rummaging between them to find the anal orifice.

  'Wonderful, wonderful!' she breathed again, lost and helpless.

  She felt the heat like a great wood fire down in her passage. It was as hot as a lump of smouldering charcoal, felt ready to splinter into pieces at any moment.

  'It's coming... it's... coming... oh!' she gasped, more as an outlet for her feeling than as a warning. She jerked her legs this way and that as if they were puppets and she held the strings. Speech was now impossible. The sounds from her mouth were animal noises, enlarging in abandon with every lick of that tongue on her erect little organ.

  She clamped her legs around Carlotta's head and squeezed her loins up at her face, forcing, straining, arching. She felt the burst, the splintering and she cried out, stifling her cries with her fist as the last suck drew her liquid passion through her channel.

  A new and regular activity was begun in the quiet haven of the convent.

  My Secret Life

  One night soon after this, I met at the Argyle rooms Helen M and was struck with her instantly. My experienced eye and well trained judgement in women, as well as my instincts told me what was beneath her petticoats and I was not deceived. I have had many splendid women in my time, but never a more splendid perfect beauty, in all respects.

  Of full but not great height, with the loveliest shade of chestnut hair of great growth, she had eyes in which grey, green and hazel were indescribably blended with an expression of supreme voluptuousness in them, yet without bawdiness or salacity, and capable of any play of expression. A delicate, slightly retroussé nose, the face a pure oval, a skin and complexion of a most perfect tint and transparency, such was Helen M. Nothing was more exquisite than her whole head, tho her teeth were wanting in brilliancy - but they were fairly good and not discoloured.

  She had lovely cambered feet, perfect to their toes; thighs meeting from
her cunt to knees and exquisite in their columnar beauty; big, dimpled haunches, a small waist, full firm breasts, small hands, arms of perfect shape in their full roundness. Everywhere her flesh was of a very delicate creamy tint, and was smooth to perfection. Alabaster or ivory, were not more delicious to the touch than her flesh was everywhere from her cheek to her toes.

  Short, thick, crisp yet silky brown hair covered the lower part of her motte, at that time only creeping down by the side of the cunt lips, but leaving the lips free, near to at her bumhole, a lovely little clitoris, a mere button, topped her belly rift, the nymphae were thin, small, and delicate. The mouth of the vulva was small, the avenue tight yet exquisitely elastic, and as she laid on her back and opened her thighs, it was an exquisite, youthful, pink cunt, a voluptuous sight which would have stiffened the prick of a dying man.

  Her deportment was good, her carriage upright but easy, the undulations of her body in movement voluptuous, and fascinating; every thing, every movement was graceful; even when she sat down to piss it was so - and taking her altogether, she was one of the most exquisite creatures God ever created to give enjoyment to man.—With all this grace, and rich, full, yet delicate of frame, she was a strong, powerful woman, and had the sweetest voice - it was music.

  I saw much of this in her at a glance, and more completely as she undressed. Then the sweetest smell as if of new milk, or of almonds escaped from her, and the instant she laid down I rushed lasciviously on her cunt, licked and sucked it with a delight that was maddening. I could have eaten it. Never had I experienced such exquisite delight in gamahuching a woman. Scarcely ever have I gamahuched a gay woman on first acquaintance, generally never gamahuched them at all.

  As I went home with her in a cab I had attempted a few liberties, but she repulsed them.—'Wait till we get home, I won't have them in the cab.'—Directly we arrived I asked what her compliment was to be.—No she had never less than a fiver.—'Why did you not tell me so, and I would not have brought you away.—What I give is sovereigns, here is the money, I am sorry I have wasted your time'—and was going.—'Stop,' said she—'don't go yet!'—I looked in my purse and gave her what I could—it was a little more than the sum I'd named—and promised to bring her the remainder of a fiver another day. Then I fucked her.—'Don't be in such a hurry,' I said, for she moved her cunt as women either do when very randy, or wishing to get rid of a man. That annoyed me, but oh God my delight as I shed my sperm into that beautiful cunt, and kissed and smelt that divine body, and looked into those voluptuous eyes. I had at once a love as well as lust for her, as my prick throbbed out its essence against her womb.—But she had no pleasure with me.—She was annoyed and in a hurry, she had another man waiting in another room in the house to have her—as she has told me since.

  What was in this woman—what the specific attractions, I cannot say, but she made me desire to open my heart to her, and I told rapidly of my amatory tricks, my most erotic letches, my most blamable (if any be so) lusts; things I had kept to myself, things never yet disclosed to other women. I told her rapidly. I felt as if I must, as if it were my destiny to tell her all, all I had done with women and men, all I wished to do with her, it was a vomit of lascivious disclosures. I emptied myself body and soul into her. She listened and seemed annoyed. She did not like me.

  Nor did she believe me. Two days afterwards, I took her the promised money, she had not expected it, and then deigned to ask if she should see me again. No. She was far too expensive for me—not that she was not worth it all.—Yea more—but blood could not be got out of a stone.—I had not the money and could see her no more.—'All right,' she replied very composedly and we parted. As I tore myself away, my heart ached for that beautiful form, again to see, smell, to kiss, and suck, and fuck that delicious cunt, to give her pleasure if I could. Tho I saw her afterwards at the Argyle rooms—even went to look at her there, I resisted.—What helped me was the belief that I was distasteful to her, why I could not tell, and a year elapsed before I clasped her charms again.

  On leaving her that day, I could think of nothing but her, went to a woman I knew, and shut my eyes whilst I fucked her, fancying she was Helen M.—'You call me Helen,' said she. 'You know a woman of that name I suppose,'—I told her it was the name of my sister. Not the only time the same thing has happened to me, and in exactly the same manner with other ladies when fucking them, but thinking of another.

  One night at the Argyle rooms, Helen spoke to me. I had several times been there solely to look at her, each time she seemed more beautiful than ever, yet beyond nodding or saying, 'How do you do,' we held no conversation, for she was always surrounded by men. I used to sit thinking of her charms with swollen pego, then either found outside a lady, or once or twice selected one in the room, so Helen could see, and ostentatiously quitted the salon with her. I felt a savage pleasure in doing so.—A species of senseless revenge.

  Sitting by my side, 'You've not been to see again.'—'No.'—'Why?'—'I'm not rich enough.'—'Nonsense, you've got some other woman.'—'None.'—'Come up.'—'No, I'll let no woman ruin me.'—We conversed further, she got close to me, her sweet smell penetrated me, and in spite of myself I promised to see her next day.

  She had changed her abode, had a larger house, three servants and a brougham. I had a sleepless night thinking of coming felicity, and on a lovely spring afternoon, hot as if in the midst of summer, she was awaiting me with an open silk wrapper on, beneath it but a laced chemise so diaphanous, that I could see her flesh and the colour of her motte through it. Her exquisite legs were in white silk, and she'd the nattiest kid boots on her pretty little, well cambered feet. She was a delicious spectacle in her rooms, through the windows of which both back and front were green trees and gardens.

  'Say I'm not at home to anyone,' said she to the maid. Then to me, 'So you have come.'—'Did you doubt me?'—'No, I think you're a man who keeps his word.' Then on the sofa we sat, and too happy for words I kissed her incessantly. She got my rampant cock out and laughing said, 'It's quite stiff enough.'—'Let me feel you love,' said I putting my hand between her thighs.—'Why don't you say, cunt?'—again I was silent in my voluptuous amusement, kissing and twiddling the surface of her adorable cleft. 'Oh let us poke.'—'Why do you say poke - say fuck,' said she moving to the bed and lying down.

  'Let me look at your lovely cunt.' She moved her haunches to the bedside and pulled her chemise well up, proud of her beauty. Dropping on my knees I looked at the exquisite temple of pleasure, it was perfection, and in a second my mouth was glued to it. I licked and sucked it, I smelt it and swallowed its juice, I could have bitten and eaten it, had none of dislike to the saline taste which I've had with some women, no desire to wipe the waste saliva from my mouth as it covered the broad surface of the vulva in quantity, but swallowed all, it was nectar to me, and sucked rapturously till, 'That will do, I won't spend so - fuck me'—said she jutting her cunt back from my mouth.

  Quickly I arose and was getting on the bed when, 'No - take your things off - all off, be naked, it's quite hot - I'll shut the window,' which she did, and throwing off her chemise sat herself at the edge of the bed till I was ready.—'Take off your shirt.'—As I removed it, she laid on the bed with thighs apart, the next second my pego was buried in her, and our naked bodies with limbs entwined were in the fascinating movements of fucking. What heaven - what paradise! - but alas, how evanescent. In a minute with tongues joined, I shed my seed into that lovely avenue, which tightened and spent its juices with me. She enjoyed it, for she was a woman voluptuous to her marrow, my naked form had pleased her I was sure, not that she said that then, she was too clever a Paphian for that.

  We lay tranquilly in each other's arms till our fleshy union was dissolved. She then - as she washed—'Aren't you going to wash?'—'I'll never wash away anything which bas come out of your cunt you beautiful devil, let it dry on, I wish I could lick it off.'—'You should have licked me before I washed my cunt, you baudy beast,'—she rejoined, laughing.
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br />   She then came and stood naked by the bedside.—'Aren't you going to get up?'—fearing her reply. 'Let me have you again,'—I said.—She laughed and gave me a towel—'Dry your prick - you can't do it again.'—'Can't I, - look?' My pego was nearly full size. She got on to the bed, laid hold of it, and passed one thigh over my haunch, my fingers titillated her clitoris for a minute, and so we lay lewdly handling each other. Then our bodies were one again, and a fuck longer, more intense in its mental pleasure, more full of idealities, more complete in its physical enjoyment to me, was over within a quarter of an hour after I had had her the first time.—Nor did she hurry me, but we lay naked, with my prick in her lovely body, in the somnolence of pleasure and voluptuous fatigue, a long time, speechless.

  Both washed, she piddled (how lovely she looked doing it), put on her chemise and I my shirt. Recollecting my first visit and her hurry, 'Now I suppose you want your fiver and me to clear out'—said I bitterly and taking hold of my drawers, for I felt a love almost for her and sad that I was only so much money in her eyes.—'I didn't say so, lie down with me.'—Side by side on the bed we lay again.

  She was not inquisitive. Hadn't I really a lady whom I visited, she knew that I'd had Miss ...... and Polly ...... I had had, she'd spoken about me to them.—Why didn't I see her. Hadn't I a lady, now tell her—I only repeated what's already told.—Then the vulgar money business cropped up.—No, she never had and never would let a man have her, for less than a fiver. Going to a drawer, she showed me a cheque for thirty pounds and a letter of endearments. 'That's come today, and he only slept with me two nights.'

  She'd soon again my soft yet swollen cunt stretcher in her hand, and fingered it deliciously, never a woman more deliciously. I felt her clitoris, and kissed her lovely neck and cheeks almost unceasingly.—'Give me a bottle of phiz,' said she after a minute's silence - I complied.—'It's a guinea mind.'—'Preposterous, I'm not in a bawdy house.'—'It's my price, my own wine, and splendid.'—Of course I yielded, who would not when such a divinity was fingering and soothing his prick?—It was excellent, we drank most of it soon, and then she gratified me after much solicitation, by lifting her chemise up to her armpits and standing in front of a cheval glass for my inspection, pleased - I fancied by my rapturous eulogiums of her loveliness - and exquisite she was.—'You know a well made woman when you see one,' she remarked.—Then quickly she dropped her chemise,—she'd not held it up a minute,—it seemed but an instant,—and refused in spite of my entreaties to raise it again.—'You have seen quite enough.'—Again on the bed we sat, again our hands crossed and fingers played on prick and cunt,—silent, with voluptuous thoughts and lewd sensations.