Taking her little hand, I placed my pego in it. Softly but modestly she held it in silence as I stood face to face with her. 'Let me feel that lovely cunt again.' She made no reply, and half stooping I began hitching up her petticoats, then letting go my prick, she pushed them down gently. 'Oh - no - don't' with a stoop and a grab I got my hand on to her cunt, my fingers well between the slippery pink lipped slit, and edging myself round to her side held her to me whilst I began titillating it. 'Lay hold of my prick - feel it love.' Without relinquishing her notch, I took my hand from her waist, placed her round my swollen cunt rammer, and again she held it; and so we stood in lascivious talk and handlings, in all the quiet delight which the feel of each other's fornicating organs, give man and woman when under the influence of Venus. What luscious, heavenly play it was, by the light of two poor candles and a bit of fire. Gently I frigged her hoping to intoxicate her with passion till resistance was impossible. Sometimes my fingers slid back wetting themselves in her cunt, already self lubricated by its longings for the friction of the tool she held in her hand. Then my fingers titillated her clitoris again, till I heard the sweet significant murmurs which a woman gives, when her cunt insists on its full gratification, on that delight which a stiff prick and a scrotum full of sperm alone can give it. That soft murmur of pleasure accompanied by the delicate agitation of belly and thighs, almost like a ripple, which comes with it when the cunt sends voluptuous thrills thro the woman, and urges her to submit and let the prick up it - to let her cunt spend its juices, whilst the balmy liquid throbs out from the ballocks, and the prick with gentle thrusts mingles the love essences of cunt and prick together, in the lovely warm soft recipient, 'Come on to the bed darling, get on it,' I knew that she now was filled with desire, unconscious almost of ought but strong sexual wants, ready to obey her eager cunt - to let me fill it. 'No - no - I'm frightened - I am really,' was all she murmured softly. Letting go of the moist, hot chasm of her belly and withdrawing my Priapus from her soft hand, turned her round and gently helped her on to the bed. In silence she mounted it, and by her side I myself, pulling up her clothes to see her limbs, much hidden alas by the accursed drawers, then through the opening in the damned white linen, for an instant roved my hand over thigh, belly and motte, fingers plunged up the lubricious avenue to womb, meeting no obstacle and expecting none. Then twisting my fingers in the soft curls, then settling them on her clitoris, then rapidly running them over every part, in maddening excitement, endearing her in concupiscent language, talking of prick, cunt, and fucking, feeling her thighs and motte, then frigging her slippery clitoris again, all in a minute; whilst she half lay with her face towards mine, eyes closed, silent, palpitating with expectant pleasure, overwhelmed with voluptuousness, her cunt wetting my fingers and hinting it was ready for its gorge. What exquisite moments for us both!
Then fearing that still she might resist at the last minute - as I've had women do - I pushed my trowsers down as well as I could (for we were dressed) to give free play to my ballocks, pressing my belly towards hers and grasping her tightly, slowly turned her over till she lay on her back, and I upon her, our bellies meeting. I grasped her bum (covered with the accursed drawers), her thighs opened and my glowing prick slid slowly up her sexual treasure, dividing the soft, full lips, stretching and filling the hot moist elastic avenue to her nest. A sigh, a sob of voluptuous delight escaped her as it reached the top. In sensuous delight her cunt responsively clipped my prick, as it felt its stretching, gripped it as if it feared to lose it. 'My prick's up your lovely cunt' I murmured as I kissed her and sought her tongue with mine, but her lips were closed. So for an instant I rested triumphant up her, in full possession of her body - joined to it - being part of it - to do within it all that nature listed. Oh mind and body, body and mind, will paradise ever give you greater joy than this?
But my glowing prick would not rest quiet long within her cunt, which hot and lusting for its libation, tightened and squeezed around its stiff possession. I thrust it to and fro in voluptuous friction, now its tip struck the portals of her womb, now drew back nearly to the entrance lips. Her lovely moist avenue closed up as my prick receded, its folds stretched out as it plunged back again. Then quicker I fucked as pleasure stimulated me. 'Aha.' My sperm was boiling in my balls, my prick urged by them on to furious haste, now plunged frantically to and fro quicker and quicker, too quick alas, but my seething sperm would have it so, her thirsty cunt would have it so. On it went plunging, searching, probing her lovely tube which now yielded, yet compressed it and more. 'Ahaa - ahar' I hear her gently sigh, giving first signs of increasing pleasure, her pretty mouth opens, my tongue touches hers, it's the first wet kiss we have had. 'Aha-ar-a.' My prick tip found the nook of nooks close to her womb, it's lodged, it's buried there alive and keeps there nestling; the frantic thrusts are over, short pushes and nestling wriggles come now. 'Aha - my darling I'm coming - I'm, ha - spending - my spunk's com - fuck - ahear - ah - ahr.'—'Aha,' she sighs, gently and sympathetically as she murmurs, her belly heaves, her thighs rise up, a delicate tremor runs thro her belly, bum and thighs, as a torrent of hot spunk rises up from my balls and thro my prick. Its knob feels bursting with the throbs of pleasure, as it shoots the spunk into her cunt, whilst nestling its tip closer and closer to her womb. Sympathetically, greedily, her cunt tightens, grinds and sucks the tip of my hot stiff member, anxious to let her womb imbibe the balmy mucilage. Then our pleasure sighs and murmurs slowly cease, our bellies move with delicious tremors, but the climax of our sensuous joy is over, the delirium of the ecstatic gush is gone, the pleasure throes ceased. There, my prick still swollen, lays soothed and wallowing in its spermy bath. Her voluptuous cunt, gorged and flooded with the lubricious emulsion from my testicles, no longer closes energetically on my prick, but every second gives a gentle throb, and gentler squeeze, as if grateful to its pleasure giver. So we lay silent, tranquil in each other's arms, exhausted with our sensuous delights, faint with the joys of love, slowly dissolving the sweet junction of our bodies in lubricious liquidity, whilst luscious thoughts on love, prick, cunt, and fucking, float dreamily through our brains.
Her passions quieted, the lustful irritation of her cunt allayed by the soothing injection, now slowly absorbing the soft balmy fluid, she laid motionless, with eyes closed, her bosom yet gently palpitating. She looked so lovely, that desire awakened at once afresh in me. So exquisite had been my enjoyment of her, that as I now looked at her beautiful face, as my dwindling prick withdrew, and as her cunt gave an affectionate parting squeeze, that my lingering pego gave a sudden throb and ceased shrinking. Tightly I grasped her bum, squeezing my pego closer into her lubricated temple, and putting one hand between our bellies, felt the curls of our genitals twining together in the glutinous overflow of our spendings. With sudden energy then she roused herself, like one just awakening. 'Oh! Get off - let me get up - do pray now - let me wash - for Heaven's sake do' and she struggled to get from under me.
A pretty woman never looks more lovely to me, than when just fucked and I lay incorporate with her. The flushed face, the humid eyes, the recollection of the pleasure barely over which she has given me, and I to endear her to me, filling me with a sense of love and gratitude. I feel this often with the ordinary Paphian, altho I know she may have gratified hundreds and perhaps I may not really have gratified her. Yet I have seen dozens of men spite of their sexual transports, when their pleasure was over leave the women as soon as possible, neither kissing, endearing, or scarcely speaking to them. The cunt had done its work and off they went. The woman was nothing to them.
So Alice looked to me more beautiful than before, and I held her tightly, hating to break our sweet conjunction, my prick enjoying its cuntal bath, and even swelling again in it at the idea of losing it. 'Oh! pray let me get up, or perhaps I shall be ruined.' My selfishness struck me, I might have impregnated her, for never a hotter prick and cunt had spent on each other. So I rolled off, but as I did so grasped the whole surface of her cunt,
lewed still, lasciviously delighted in covering my fingers with our spending. Then I lay handling my prick with semenalized fingers, it seemed almost like feeling her and watched her wash that cunt, which ten minutes before had been refused me, and yet had rapturously spent as it felt the emulsion from my pego. Not a word was spoken. She finished the rinsing, stood up, let her clothes drop, and stared at me. 'You've not dried it,' said I. She stood looking ashamed. 'Rub it dry, or you'll wet your drawers.' She turned her back and dried it with a towel, then turned round. 'I must go.'
Off the bed I jumped. 'No love, I'm going to fuck you again, you needn't go away till nine o'clock, I wonder if the watch is broken, it's yours.' Taking it up I found it going, the case had saved it. Giving her a kiss I put the watch into her hand. She looked long at it. 'I wish I'd never seen it and hadn't met you, perhaps I'm ruined through it - how can I account for having it.'—'We'll think of that presently - sit down and have another glass of wine.' Saying that, I drew off my trowsers which were falling to my heels, threw off coat and waistcoat, and pulling two chairs in front of the fire we both sat down.
I put my arm round her kissing her, and for the first time got a kiss in return. No woman can refuse one to the man who has just fucked her. I talked about our pleasure in baudiest language, whilst she listened smiling, yet seemingly half ashamed and almost in silence. Then my hand sought her sexual treasure and her resistance was the merest sham. My fingers lodged between the pretty hirsute ridges, tickled by their curly fringe, whilst the tips rubbed gently the satiny nymphae and little clitoris. Then it roved over motte, and belly and thighs towards smooth haunches, where the infernal drawers caught my wrist and hindered its advance. 'Take off your drawers dear.'—'Oh no - I won't - I must be going.'—'Not till I've seen that lovely cunt - let me.' Now she resisted, but a woman never long refuses a view of her cunt to the man who has fucked it, unless conscious of some defect; but few think that of their cunts. I'm sure that unless they be whores, that women don't know an ugly cunt from a pretty one, they haven't seen many full grown ones, and think well enough of their own. Whores at times resist a close inspection of their splits, they know the difference in cuntal physiognomies for they've seen many cunts besides their own.
Irritated I pushed my hand roughly, the drawers hitched, stretched and tightened on my wrist. 'Oh don't' - I pushed harder, with a crack something gave way, the drawers loosened, and my hand slipped round towards her buttocks. 'There now you've broken the string - what shall I do?' She stood up half turning towards me and feeling underneath her petticoats. I gave a gentle pull, the drawers slipped down her thighs, that hand went round her backside, the other did the same, and they nearly touched each other on the slopes to the bum furrow, as they grasped two deliciously smooth, firm, hemispheres of flesh. By that time, through standing up and moving, the drawers had slipped down below her knees, whilst still I felt her delicious backside, holding her close to me as I sat. Then she sitting down wriggling her bum, and complaining of what I had done, I helped her to disengage her ankles from their linen encumbrance. One of the strings had come off.
(Several women's drawers I have treated in similar manner, once or twice have violently torn them off and rent them in doing so. It's the only way with a woman who won't remove the useless cunt wipers. Drawers are better not looked at when torn off.)
The field was clear, rapidly I knelt in front of her (always do this) and kissed her thighs up to her notch. What a delicious odour was around the spot; odour of cunt and sweetest young flesh combined. Grasping her buttocks whilst I kissed and inhaled spite of her struggles, the exciting aroma stiffened my pego. When I like the smell of the woman there, it always does. Rising and showing its rigidity, pulling back the prepuce to show its crimsoning plum shaped top. 'Look dear, it's longing for your lovely cunt.' I placed her hand around it, and as before, she held it till I sat down by her side. Then turning towards each other with my arm round her neck in silence kissing, we resumed feeling those blessed carnal implements of concupiscence, I gently feeling between the plump ridges of her cunt, she nervously feeling my stiff pego, with a soothing but not frigging motion; both now in silent voluptuous reverie.
'Let me see it, you must, you shall.' Vain refusals, words not meant. Gently I led her to the bed, placed her on it, opened full sized, handsome, well shaped, white fleshed thighs, and saw one of the prettiest cunts I ever set eyes on, smallish, youthful looking, with fullish ridges rather than lips, tho lips they were, with a well defined red coral line between them, but without protuberances, and fringed with curly chestnut coloured hair, which also covered slightly a fat motte. Praising it rapturously, she let me move her limbs to see this delicate bit of nature's workmanship; but saying, 'Don't - don't' (they always say that) yielding, pleased with my rapturous praises, proud of the admiration of her sexual charms. Then by her side I lay, our hands crossed each other's and we felt our sexual organs, till both were ready for another fuck. 'Take off your clothes love, let's do it properly, my belly can't meet yours with your stays on.' - Refused at first, yet I prevailed. 'I'll only take my stays off.' I helped them off, and then off went one petticoat, for she was warmly clad, and off I pulled drawers.
Then one hand on her cunt, the other round her neck just touching with finger points one of a lovely pair of breasts, talking of love and fucking, how my prick throbbed as one hand roved restlessly from thighs to belly, then to bum, seeking the furrow of its cheeks, feeling her bum-hole, then up her cunt, and into every crack and nook and cranny of her body, kissing and smelling every where, where all was beautiful and odorous even to her armpits, so enchanted, enraptured, was I with her, so ruttish. Then my fingers settled on her clitoris whilst her hand still held my prick, and whispering, 'Let's do it love.' She turned upon her back, and opened her thighs. With one look at the red slit, its lips held wide apart by my fingers; with one gentle lick of her pretty clitoris, I dropped on to her belly now naked, clasped her lovely ivory buttocks, my fingers meeting in their valley, and then midst mutual sighs of pleasure, I buried my glowing prick up to its balls, in her thirsty, longing cunt.
I shall never forget with what delight I began the to and fro friction, that oscillation of my arse, that searching of my tool, met by the gentle heaves of her soft belly. Our tongues now met, her bashfulness was gone, lubricious felt her cunt as it yielded to my thrusts. 'Ahaa, my love, my prick's up your cunt, isn't it nice?'—'Ah - y-hess - ahaa.' Quicker moved my prick now stimulated by her pleasure - now I gave frantic pushes, as my prick got almost painfully turgid - her backside heaved to me, her thighs moved up round mine, as she felt the approaching voluptuous delirium of her senses. 'Are you coming love?'—'Y-hes - aher.' Her belly is quivering, her thighs clip mine, my prick settles at her womb, our backsides, bellies and thighs, quiver together in our spasms of delight, we clasp each other tighter, her hand grips on my naked backside, my bursting prick shoots forth hot spunk with pulsating throbs into her cunt, which tightens, grinds, and sucks it with combined sensations of pleasure, intense, inseparable, indescribable, as the mucilaginous injection floods it, and the soft spendings come out from every pore of its lovely surface to mix with mine. Then again we die away in each other's arms in blissful, voluptuous silence. Ah! what a death to die, if death would come in such a shape.
I felt that I should like to lie within her for ever, but after short repose, whilst our wet lips were still meeting, she got off rapidly and washed away the evidences of our love. She piddled, and had not before done so, and now, our intimacy was complete, by fucking, feeling, cunt washing, and piddling before me. The joy of sexual partnership is only complete when modesty is gone. Modesty! - a convention. There is none naturally either in man or woman, but the sham has its charm, for it gives the pleasures of destroying it, and yielding it.
Excepting in early manhood when my sperm reservoirs seemed always full, the second fuck tranquillized me, but my recuperative power always with a nice fresh woman, or one whose sweet body I much liked, enabled me to
separate the soft lips of her belly cleft with a rigid pego, a third time within the hour, and then I needed longer rest. This vital power of fucking thrice in sixty minutes I still have (and have now, eight years later). The second combat I find usually tranquillizes the lady, the fucking fatigues a woman less than a man. Alice - the name she gave me seemed now quiet and thoughtful, as she sat by my side by the fire. I put her cloak over her, coals on the fire, got two more candles from the baud, took more sherry and gave Alice more. I had still strong desire for the beautiful creature, still had that sense of fullness in my balls, that redness, heat, and lustful voluptuous irritation in my gland; which foretold more fucking soon.
She took the watch off the mantel-piece after sitting silent for a time, looked at it attentively, and then at the fire. I guessed her thoughts. Said she, 'What can I tell about getting it?' I have advised several of her sex what lies to tell under similar difficulties, and nearly always the same lie. The watch taken in a case, had been returned to my hands in a little wash-leather bag. Reminding the maker of that, he found the case, and I just then wanting a leather watch bag, put the one into my pocket. 'Put the watch into this, then lay it in the mud, say you saw the handle shining and picked it up.'—'That's what I have been thinking,' she rejoined. 'But if they don't believe me?'—'Stick to it and they will.' With a sigh, 'I can't say anything else, but must keep it a few days first. I'm frightened tho.'—'Name a spot where you found it. '—'I will.'—'Your husband will be glad you've got a watch' (trying to catch her). She smiled, and said she wished she had never seen it. 'But I have, and there's no help for it, now I must go.'—'No dear, not till we've done it again.' She shook her head. I wish I knew what passed thro her mind just then, but feel sure that the desire for another cunt plugging detained her, tho she wanted to be off. The risk, the baudiness, the treat of the afternoon, the newness of prick, affected her. In for a penny in for a pound perhaps. So we talked on, trying to entrap each other into telling who and what we were, but in both cases unsuccessfully.
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