Then we all washed, drank more champagne, and after a slight rest we both felt Harry's pego. Taking it into my mouth it stiffened. 'Can you fuck again?'—'I'll try,' said he.
Ready as if she had not been tailed for a month, her eyes liquid and beaming with voluptuous desire, she turned at once her bum towards him at the side of the bed, and gave him free access. I guided his pego, and the young chap began fucking hard again. Then I laid myself on the bed, her face now on my belly, but in spite of all I could say she would not suck me. Was she frightened that he would tell Donkey prick of her? Annoyed I arose, and slipping my hand under his belly, frigged her little clitoris whilst he was fucking her on her back, I could feel his prick going up and down, in and out of her cunt, and felt even his balls - which are small. From time to time I left my post to view the operators from afar, to see his bum oscillate and her thighs move. It was a long job for him, but she spent soon. The more she spends, the more violent at times seem her passions. 'Ah - don't stop, Harry - fuck - let your spunk come into my cunt,' she cried as she spent. He didn't spend but worked on like a steam engine. 'Spunk - Spunk' she cried again. Flap, flap went his belly up against her fat buttocks, the sound was almost as if her bum was being slapped by hand. I thought he'd never spend so long was he in her, till I saw his eyes close. 'Are you coming?'—'Yhes.'—'Ahh - fuck, fuck,' she screamed again, her whole frame quivered then action ceased, she slipped a little forward fatigued, belly and pego following with her, and there they still in copulation both silent and exhausted. Soon after she uncunted him, and without a word turned onto the bed and laid down - I looked at her cunt and squeezed his prick, felt madly lewd but had no cockstand - I dare not excite myself too much now - I was envious, dull at not being able at once to fuck her again.
She lay with eyes brilliant, humid with pleasure and a little blue beneath the lids, and very red in face. She looked at me intently. 'Do it again,' said she.—'I can't.'—'You can, I am sure.' Leaning on one elbow she raised her knee, her cunt slightly opening, and I felt it. He was washing. 'Put it in for a minute.'—'It's not stiff.' Reaching out a hand she gave it a grip. 'You can fuck,' said she edging herself to the bedside again and opening her thighs. 'Do it this way just as I am lying.' I could not resist and put my pego where she wished it - would do anything to bring my prick to touch her cunt. It was not three inches long - but directly the tip was on her vulva and she rubbed it there, it began to swell. Stiff, stiffer it grew as she nudged it into her cunt. 'It's quite stiff,' said she - I feared a relapse and set to vigorously, sucked her sweet mouth, exhausted it of spittle which I swallowed and then we spent together, he now looking on. It was an exciting but killing fuck to me - my sperm felt like hot lead running from my ballocks, and the knob felt so sore as I spent, that I left off thrusting or wriggling, and finished by her repeating cuntal compressions and grind, in the art of which she is perfect mistress. When I first knew her and her cunt was smaller she never exercised that grip even if she had it - now her lovely avenue tho certainly larger to the fingers, is fatter inside, and has a delicious power of compression.
Harry now was silent, and she at last seemed fatigued, yet sitting by his side began again restlessly twiddling his cock. There were evident signs of its swelling - I felt it, but my lust was satisfied and I cared no more about feeling it. We chatted and drank awhile, and then she laid herself along the bed as if going to repose. Not a bit of it - her lust was not sated yet. She put a hand on to his tool and said, 'Fuck me, dear.' He said he could not. 'Try - I'll make you.' H's eyes when she wants fucking have a voluptuous expression beyond description. It appeals to my senses irresistibly. It is lewdness itself, and yet without coarseness, and even has softness and innocence so mixed with it, that it gives me the idea of a virgin who is randy and seeking the help of man, without in her innocence quite knowing what she wants, what he will do, and that there is neither shame nor harm in trying to get the article of which she does not know the use. Her voice also is low, soft and melodious - I was sitting when I saw that she was now in furious rut. I've seen her so before - and she said to the lad, 'Get on me - lay on me dear.'—'I can't do it.'—'You shall,' said she impetuously. 'Lay on my thigh.' The slim youth turned at once his belly on to hers. He had now no modesty left - we had knocked that out of him quite.
Wildly almost, she pulled his head to hers and kissed him, her eyes closed, her bum jogged, down went one hand between their bellies, a slight movement of his buttocks, a hitch of her bum, a twist, a jerk, then up to her knees and legs, her backside slips lower down, and by a slight twist she had got his prick into her. Then she gave two sharp heaves, clutched his backside and was quiet - her eyes were closed - I would give much to know what lewd thoughts were passing through her bawdy brain just then, a flood of lascivious images I'm sure, whilst her cunt was quietly, gently clipping his doodle. She opened her eyes when I said,—'Fuck her well.'—'Fuck dear,' said she to him and began gently her share of the exercise. He began also shagging, but quietly. 'Is your prick stiff?' said I—'Yhes.'—A strong smell of sperm, prick, cunt and sweat, the aroma of randy human flesh now pervaded the hot room - the smell of rutting male and female, which stimulated me in an extraordinary way. I got lewd, my prick swelled, and for a moment I wanted to pull him off and fuck her myself, but restrained myself and put my hand under his balls to please my lust that way.
If he was a minute upon her he was forty. Never have I had such a sight, never assisted at such a long fucking scene. She was beautiful in enjoying herself like a Messalina all the time - I squeezed his balls and gently encouraged him with lewd words, she with loving words till she went off into delirious obscenity. With her fine, strong, lovely shaped legs, thighs, and haunches she clipped him, he couldn't if he would have moved off her. Every few minutes she kissed him rapturously crying,—'Put out your tongue, dear, kiss - kiss. Ahaa - fuck - fuck harder - put your spunk in my cunt.' Then came prolonged loud cries.—'Ahrr - harre'—and she violently moved her buttocks, her thighs quivered - and screeching.—'Aharrr'—beginning loud and ending softly, she was quiet and had spent. But a minute after she was oscillating her bum as violently as ever, and crying, Spend, Harry, spend - kiss - kiss - put out your tongue - kiss - you've not spent - spend dear, kiss'—and her kisses resounded.
I moved nearer to her, and standing, slid my hand under her raised thighs and gently intruded my middle finger up her bumhole. Her eyes opened and stared at me bawdily. 'Further up,' sobbed she in a whisper, her bum moving. Then she outstretched her hand, and grasped my prick, and I bending to her, we kissed wet kisses. His head then was laying over her left shoulder hidden, he ramming like a steam engine, and neither knew where my finger was, nor thought of aught but her cunt, I guess.
Again he put his mouth to hers, their tongues met, she still holding my pego, on went the fuck. The ramming indeed had never stopped for an instant. My finger now well up her bum, his balls knocking against my hand and each minute her bawdy delirium came on.—'Now - spend Harry - spend. Oh God - fuck - fuck - bugger. Aharr - aharr.'—Again a screech, again quietness, and as languidly he thrust again she stimulated him. 'Fuck dear, that's it - your prick's stiff - isn't it?'—'Yhes'—'Your spunk's coming.'—'Y-hess.'—'Ahaa - spunk - fuck. Ahharr' she screeched. The room rang with her deliriously voluptuous cries, and again all was quiet. So now was he for he'd spent, and out came my fingers as her sphincter strongly clipped it and she spent.
I thought it was all over but it was not, her rutting was unabated. 'Keep it in dear - you'll spend again'—'I can't'—'Yes, lie still.' Again her thighs clipped his, and her hands clutched his backside. I felt under his balls the genital mucilaginous moisture of their passions oozing. His prick was small and I slid my finger up her cunt beside it. He never noticed it. 'Don't you beast,' said she. 'Give me some champagne.' I withdrew my moistened finger, gave her a glass, filled my mouth with some and emptied that into hers. She took it kissing me. She was mad for the male tho she murmured after her habit. 'Ain't we beasts?'�
��'No love, it's delicious, no beast could do what we do.' He lay now with eyes closed, almost asleep, insensible, half only upon her, his face half buried in the pillow. She raised her head partially, not disturbing his body, I held up her head, and a full glass of champagne went down her throat. Then she fell back again and put her hand between their bellies. 'Is his prick out?' said I.
No reply made she - I put my hand under his buttocks, touched his prick which was still swollen, found she was introducing it to her quim and it touched my hand in doing it. I saw that heave, jog and wriggle of her backside, her legs cross his, her hands clamp onto his buttocks, the jog, jog gently of her rump, then knew that again his pendant doodle was well in her lubricious cunt, and that she'd keep it there. 'How wet your cunt is, Helen,' said I.—'Beast' she softly murmured and began fucking quicker, tho he lay quite still. Her eyes were again closed, her face scarlet. 'Feel his balls,' said she softly.—'Do you like my doing it?'—'Yes, it will make him stiff - do that again.' Her eyes opened on me with a fierce bawdiness in them as she said that. The exquisite voluptuous look, the desire of a virgin was no more there - delirious rutting, obscene wants in their plenitude was in them, the fiercest lust. Up went my finger in her bum,—'Aha - Aha - God' sobbed she in quick staccato ejaculations.—'Fuck me dear.'
He roused himself at that, grasped her buttocks, thrust for a little time then relaxed his• hold and lay lifeless on her. 'I can't do it, I'm sure.'—'You can, lay still a little.' Still he laid like a log, but not she. An almost imperceptible movement of her rump and thighs went on, ever and anon her eyes opened on me with a lustful glare, then closed again, and not a word she spoke whilst still her thighs and buttocks heaved. I knew her cunt was clipping, was nut-cracking his tool, often times I've felt that delicious constriction of her cunt, as in bawdy reverie I've laid upon her, half faint with the voluptuous delight of her embrace. Some minutes ran away like this, whilst I was looking at her nakedness, feeling his balls withdrawing my finger from her, then gently, soothingly replacing it up her bum, frigging my own prick every now and then - none of us spoke.
Then more quickly came her heaves, he recommenced his thrusts. 'Fuck dear, there - it's stiff. Ahaa - yes - you'll spend soon.'—'Yes' murmured he.—'Yes, shove hard - give me your spunk.' All was so softly murmured and with voices so fatigued, that I could scarcely hear them. Again I took my finger from her bumhole (for the position fatigued my hand), on they went slowly, again he stopped, again went on, each minute quicker, and soon furiously rammed hard whilst she heaved her backside up and down, thumping the bed which creaked and rocked with their boundings, and the champagne glasses on the tray jingled. Up into her bumhole went my finger. 'Aharr,' she shivered out. 'Bugger - fuck - fuck Harry - quicker - aharr - my God - I shall die - y'r spunk's - com - com - aharr - God - I shall go mad.'—'Ohooo' groaned he. Her sphincter tightened and pinched my finger out, another bound up and down, one more scream, then both were squirming, another scream from her, a hard short groan from him, and then she threw her arms back above her head, lay still with eyes closed, mouth wide open, face blood red, and covered with perspiration, her bosom heaving violently.
He rolled half off her, his prick lay against her thigh dribbling out thin sperm, his face covered with perspiration and again half buried in the pillow and laying nearly a lifeless mass at once he slept. Her thighs were wide apart, no sperm showing: his spend must have been small. Both were fucked out, exhausted with amorous strain.
My strength had been gradually returning, and my prick stood like a horn as I felt again his prick, and thrust my fingers up her lubricious cunt. No heed took either of my playing with their genitals. I forgot the pains in my temples - cared not whether I died or not, so long as I could again penetrate that lovely body, could fuck and spend in that exquisite cunt. Pouring out more champagne I roused her and she drank it at a draught. 'Am I not a beast?' said she falling back again.—'No love, and I'll fuck you.'—'No, no. You cannot, I'm done and you'd better not.'—'I will.' Pushing the lad's leg off hers - he fast asleep - and tearing off my shirt, I threw myself upon her naked form and rushed my prick up her. Her cunt seemed large and wet but in a second it tightened on my pego. Then in short phrases, with bawdy ejaculations, both screaming obscenities, we fucked.—'Is my prick larger than his?'—'Ah, yes'—'Longer?'—'Yes - aha, my God leave off, you'll kill me - I shall go mad.'—'Ah, darling - cunt - fuck.'—'Aha - prick - fuck me you bugger - spunk in me arsehole fuck - bugger - fuck - fuck.' With screams of mutual pleasure we spent together, then lay embracing, both dozing, prick and cunt joined in the spermy bath.
'Get up love, I want to piddle,' said she. I rolled off her belly. She rose staggering but smiling, kissed me and looked half ashamed. Her hair was loose, her face blood red and sweaty, her eyes humid with pleasure, and puffy and blue the skin under her eyes. She sat on the pot by the bedside looking at me and I at her, and still with voluptuous thoughts she put up her hand and felt my prick.—'You've fucked me well.'—'My God! aren't we three beasts - I'm done for.'—'So am I.'
I'd fucked her thrice, he thrice. She spent to each of our sexual spasms and many more times. During their last long belly to belly fucking she kept him up to it for her whole and sale pleasure, for she was oblivious of me. She must have spent thrice to his once, for her lovely expression of face, her musical cries, her bawdy ejaculations during the orgasm - I know them full well by long experience - were not shammed. That would have been needless and impossible. The tightening of her bumhole on my finger told the same tale, for the sphincter tightens in both man and woman when they spend. She'd also frigged herself, been gamahuched by both of us, and spent under all. For two hours and a half, out of the four and a half I was with her that night, either finger, tongue, or prick had been at her cunt and for one hour and a half a prick up it.
Impossible as it seems even to me as I write it - absurd, almost incredible - she must have spent or experienced some venereal orgasm - something which gave her sexual pleasure, which elicited her cries, sighs and flesh quiverings, with other evidences of sexual delight, from twelve to twenty times. She may not have spent always, her vaginal juices may have refused to issue, their sources may have been exhausted after a time, yet pleasure she had I am sure. The amusement was planned by us - so far as such a programme can be, jointly for our joint erotic delight. Harry was but a cypher tho an active one, a pawn to be moved for our mutual delight, and nothing more - tho of course much to his delight - lucky youth.
I thought of the orgy perpetually until I saw her again three days after. I couldn't get to her before. She looked smiling and fresh as ever, not a trace of fatigue was on her face, but she admitted that she was quite worn out that night, and had spent as nearly as she could tell, twelve or fifteen times, had laid a bed all next day, drank strong beef tea, and that such another night would almost kill her.
The first week of my return from abroad I telegraphed a meeting with H. Getting no reply I went to her house which was empty. I telegraphed the scout, got no response, went there and she had flown, but I found that her letters were seat to a neighbouring chandler's shop - I wrote there naming an appointment in the dark and there found H waiting. All was changed, she lived in the country, was not sure if she could meet me, but if so at areal risk, didn't know when or where but in a week would let me know. We drove through a park which was on the road to her station and felt each other's carnal agents, I besought her to get out and let us fuck against a tree. She was indignant at the proposal, and it ended in our frigging each other in the cab, face to face, kissing and tonguing, to the great injury of her bonnet, and a little soiling of her silk dress and my trousers. Who would care where sperm fell in such an entrancing ride?
A week after, a place of rendezvous was found, at a convenient snug little house where we met generally. Before she'd taken anything off but her bonnet and I my hat, we fucked on the bedside with intense mutual delight. Directly I'd uncunted, we both stripped stark naked and got into bed, drank champagne
there, and fucked and fucked again till my pego would stiffen no longer; fucked four times, a areal effort now for me, but not for her. But frigging and gamahuching always satisfied her as a finish - luckily.
Then our meetings were at longer intervals apart, which only made them more delicious. But I alas, am obliged to husband my strength more than formerly, so the long intervals suit me better.
When next we met, we found that the mistress of the establishment had voluptuous photographs, pictures, and engravings by hundreds, and one or two chests full of the bawdiest books in English and French. We revelled in them that day for all were placed at our disposal. We sat feeling each other's genitals between our fuckings, looking and commenting on artistic display of nudities and erotic fancies, and wishing we could participate in such performances ourselves. They awakened ideas which had slumbered in me certainly. She said in her also, but she always declared that I had put desires into her unknown before. We were well matched.
Living far off now, without a male or female friend whom to talk about sexualities, more than ever now looked to our days of meeting, and hours of unrestrained voluptuousness. After hearing all she had done at home even to domestic details - which she was fond of telling as showing her domestic comfort - lust and love in all whims and varieties we talked about. 'Did you ever do that?'—'Do you recollect when I showed you ...... prick?'—'When did so and so occur?' So ran our talk. How often he'd fucked her or gamahuched her, how often she'd frigged herself, the sperm he spent, and all the domestic bawdy doings were told me with delight, and similar frankness exacted from me. Then came wishes. 'Let Mrs ...... get us another woman, you fuck her whilst she gamahuches me,' was a request made whilst after fucking, we laid reposing in the bed. I agreed.—'Let her be stout, I'd like one as stout as Camille.' These are the very words said funnily enough in a half shamefaced way - for absence and the change in her circumstances, at first seemed to impose some stupid modesty on her. But both of us liked to call a spade a spade.
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