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But I did not gamahuche her, tho I think her thighs opened with an invitation that way, when my mouth was there. I rarely did anything of the sort. And when I had kissed, felt, and smelt all about her haunches and navel, I pulled out my prick and rising shewed it her, but it was dark nearly. “Feel it love. — Feel it.” — “Don't now, pray” said she, rising up but laying tight hold of it. — “Let me fuck you” “I won't, I dare not,” said she resolutely. “Be content.” She resisted my pushing her back again, but still kept tight hold of my prick, so I frigged her clitoris delicately, kissing her all the while. She will let me, I thought, if I frig her well, for I know how voluptuously helpless a woman becomes at last by frigging, how as her pleasure comes on, the cunt yearns for a prick stretching, and for sperm. She breathed hard, feeling my prick convulsively. — “Get on the bed dear,” said I, lifting her left leg up easily and still frigging. — She would not get on the bed but leant against my shoulder as I held her.

It was now quite dark, I could just see the whiteness of part of her fleshy thighs, but her clothes dropped over my frigging hand and hid her cunt, her head lay on my shoulder, my left arm was round her waist. — “Oho — Oho” — she sighed, I'm — coming — kiss me.” She pushed her mouth towards mine, her left leg came off the bed, her thighs opened, and quivered. — I felt my own pleasure rising, she knew it and frigged me quicker, and I spent over her whilst she sobbed out — “Kiss — me — k — k — iss — me — ah —” and spent as well. I had pushed my fingers up and all over her cunt, when I felt I was coming, and cried, “Don't, let's f — fuck.” — But it was too late, we had frigged each other. Then we were quiet, I still holding her, my fin-gers outside her wet cunt, she keeping firm of my prick, from which the sperm was still gently running, and dropping on to her thighs, legs or dress.

“Why didn't you let me fuck you,” said I angrily. “We have spoiled our pleasures.” — “Oh, you rude man, — I told you I wouldn't” — “My spunk's over your thighs, or your dress somewhere.” — “You rude man, go away and I'll see to it.” — “I won't go, I mean to fuck you.” — “You mustn't.” — My anger over, I tried coaxing but a knock came. — “Who is that?” she cried. — “Me, ma'am.” — It was the maid. A pause. — “I've gone to bed and shan't want you to-night.” — Off the woman went.

Further parley was useless, and feeling the lucifer box, I struck a light. — She rushed to the window and drew down the blind. We looked at each other, and she smiled.

Said I, “Such a thing never occurred in my life before, to be with a beautiful woman, and be frigged, in-stead of fucking her, — Look at your dress, my seed is on it.” — “Are you going?” said she. — “No, not till I've seen all your charms, and I've fucked you. — “You must not do that,” said she composedly but pleasantly, “for I am frightened.” Finding that I would stay, she took off her dress and sponged away the signs of my pleasure, quite unconcerned in manner whilst doing it. Then I began spooning, and playing with her what are stupidly called indecent familiarities, as if anything can be indecent between a man and woman, when they are alone, and like what they do.

It was about half-past eight or nine. The frigging and the preliminaries, from the time I entered her room, had scarcely taken longer than it takes to write this. We must have both been awfully randy and full of our juices for the frigging was soon over. — Now I wanted it almost as badly as ever. Her lovely naked arms, and plump legs, now showing, her dress being off, whetted my appetite. I sat down on the sofa, she did the same unasked, and let me do what I liked without her saying a word, I felt her breasts, thighs, and quim. We kissed, our tongues met, and our mouths joined in moisture. She laid hold of my prick. “I do want it so,” I said, frigging her again. “Don't you.” “Yes, but we mustn't do that.” — Then her bum got restless, I heard a sigh, it looked very much as if we were going to repeat the double masturbation, which was very nice, but I wanted more. — “Let me see you naked, for I won't go on frigging on the sofa,” said I. — No, she was quite undressed enough, she replied.

I insisted, warmed her, and pulled up her petticoats to look. — “Do let me see you naked for you must be beautiful.” — “I won't be quite naked,” said she, but she stripped to her chemise, then standing up, she let me look at her all over, lifting her chemise from part to part. — “But your cunt, let me see it.” — Without a word she laid placidly down on the side of the bed, opened her thighs, and let me see it. — It was a full-lipped, middle-aged, hairy one, but voluptuous looking. My prick was stiff. Getting her as I thought off her guard, I pressed my body over hers, holding her round the haunches, and trusting to my rigid tool to find its entrance, I shoved vigorously, and struck the cunt somewhere: but momentarily only, for she struggled up.

“It's of no use your trying,” said she, for you shan't.” — “Well, let's talk, and lie down together.” — She laid down on the bed. I thought to myself if I can only mount you, you'll be fucked as surely as you'll shit before this day fortnight, so I stripped to my shirt, and got on to the bed to her, and as quietly as if we had been man and wife, we laid for a minute. — “Now don't be nonsensical any more,” said I. — “You want it, what's the good of humbugging so?” — I don't think she answered at all but laid still, and I thought she was only coquetting with me.

I tried to mount her. We had been laying on our sides, but belly to belly so closely, that my prick al- most touched her motte. I had drawn one of her thighs up over mine, her cunt was opened by the attitude and within a few inches of my balls. I was fingering it from behind, my hand and arm twisted over her bum, but her legs closed together when I tried to turn her on her back. Then she laid hold of my prick again. — Has she got anything the matter with her? thought I for a moment — Nonsense! it's only a female whim, a sham. So taking my hand from her bum side, I put my fin-gers on her clitoris and frigged again, hoping to get my aim by that help. — Our bodies were so close together, that I could not frig well. Gradually we separated more. I pulled up her chemise to her breasts, kissed her cunt and then resumed my work. — She turned then on to her back. — I was on my side, and then she clutched my prick and frigged me. — “Don't,” said I, ceasing my fingering — “Go on, said she, do it to me

— don't stop” and with heaves of her arse, she cried out. — “Oh — I' m— coming, — kiss me.” — She spent again, and by Jove I was near spending, for she frigged on, till by an effort of will I dragged my prick from her hand.

More angry than before. — “What is the matter with you,” I said. — “You must not do that.” — “Are you poorly?” — “Perhaps so,” she answered with a laugh.

— That had occurred to me, but I had found no signs of it on my fingers. Then followed a conversation which left me in the belief that she was, or expected to be poorly; and that she would let me fuck her in a day or two. — Without using a lewed word, she talked quite freely. She liked being frigged she said when I questioned her. After a time I frigged her again, but she would feel me when having her pleasure, and tho for a time I resolutely prevented myself, by taking away her hand when I felt pleasure increasing, yet it ended in my letting her do it to me — and this time she leant upon one elbow to operate. She had done spending her-self. — “I like doing it,” said she, “let me.” — “You'll let me fuck when your poorliness is over if I do.” — “I will see about that,” and I left her with that half promise. It was late, and watching my opportunity, I slipped warily out of her room.

When I thought over the matter, I was astonished at myself. I who never liked frigging myself or being frigged, excepting as an occasional whim, or for curiosity about the nature of my spunk, had passed an evening with a fine woman, frigging her, and being frigged. — Not with a gay woman, but with a mature lady, who never uttered a baudy word, indeed scarcely spoke, but who seemed to have but one desire, to frig and be frigged. How she led me on to it — how enticed me I know not — it seems to me now almost incredible — yet I tell exactly as it occurred.