I ordered sherry expecting poor stuff, but knowing there would be spirit in it to stir her lust and heat her cunt still more, if that pretty slit happened to be al-ready yearning for a stretch. — Bacchus always helps Venus. She took two glasses of the wine which was very palatable, and then at my request took her cloak and bonnet off. “What for? I can't stop long” — as if she supposed that I had brought her into a bedroom only to take wine. “You told me that perhaps you wouldn't leave your friend before nine o'clock.” — “Yes but her son would have put me into a cab.” — “So will I when we have been on the bed together.” — “Oh! — what next?” — said she hurriedly and looking at me, then at the bed in a restless excited way. Then she turned round, took off her gloves, and put them into her pocket in a way which I scarcely noticed at the time, but which occurred to me afterwards. I produced the watch. — “There my sweet girl, — what is your name? That's yours if you'll let me.” — She took it eagerly. — It was in a case, and whilst looking at it sitting on a chair close by me, I suddenly put a hand up her petticoats, and felt her naked thigh near to her motte, thro the opening of her drawers which unfortunately she'd worn. — “Oh — don't — you shan't,” said she dropping the watch and case on the floor and standing up. I am a practised hand in assaulting cunts, having done this to scores of women, and altho surprized for the instant at her unexpected energy in resisting, dropped on my knees, clutched her round her petticoats with my left hand, and thrust higher that which had been dislodged, till the forefingers to the knuckles were well between the ridges of her split. I felt its heat and moisture, as her thighs closed on my fingers tightly. The next instant she had got away from me, and we had knocked both chairs over in a scuffle. In half a minute all these movements were done and over.
It was no sham, her surprize and struggle, tho she must have known I'd brought her there to fuck her. — Our walk, talk, my delicate suggestions, the offer of the watch, must have taught her that. I expect she'd got her cunt heated, her lust set simmering, — and perhaps also I was pleasing to her — but hadn't counted consequences for she was evidently and truly scared. For the instant I thought her a possible virgin. “Non-sense love, let me feel your delicious cunt.” — The first straight baudy word I had said. — “Oh! I must go, I don't want the watch” — I thought I should not succeed, for she moved off from me as I approached her, keeping her face towards me till her back touched the bed. — Now, wild with desire for her and reckless in my lust, I picked up the watch, put it on the table, and pulled out my prick, which was big as a rolling pin and ruby tipped. — “Don't be foolish my darling” — I tried to allay her fears. — “None can know, but we two” — and so on. A woman with a melting cunt can be talked into any belief which runs with her voluptuous desires. “How lovely your cunt felt, let me feel it again — there's a darling — do feel my prick. — You knew now, don't fib, you knew when you came, that I meant to fuck you — don't be foolish. — I'm sure you want it.” — Thus using all the lecherous persuasions and endearments which nature taught me, which come to me readily and naturally at such times, and I sup-pose to other men — I went nearer to her puffing out my pego further and the whole of my ballocks, so that her eyes might be gratified to the full with the sight of the Priapean glory.
She stood with her bum against the bed, looking at my prick, then in my face, and then away as if ashamed at being seen looking at my tool — then again at the red tipped stiff stander, and so on; motionless, silent at first. Then in soft broken sentences as I poured forth my loving prayers, and lustful incitements. — “Oh — I didn't — no — I can't — I'm frightened. — I'm sorry I came, — I don't want the watch. — I won't let you — let me go” — and still her eyes wandered restlessly from mine to my prick. With male instinct, I felt sure that my prick was exciting her, and closing on her, I threw one arm round her neck and kissed and coaxed, in frank, strong, concupiscent phrases, no longer mincing words. Prick, cunt, fuck, spunk, and the choicest of the vocabulary of love, in undisguised carnal strength I uttered. She still refusing, but letting me kiss her, her voice getting gentler, fainter and fainter, as she said, “No — I mustn't — really.” — Suddenly, “Tell me the truth, are you married?” — “My darling what does it matter whether either of us is married or not? — feel my prick, feel how stiff it is, it will spend outside unless you let me put it into your sweet lovely cunt — feel it.”
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 to her side held her to me whilst I began titillating it. “Lay hold of my prick — feel it love.” — With-out relinquishing her notch, I took my hand from her waist, placed her hand 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 them-selves 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 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, I turned her round and gently helped her on to the bed. In silence she mounted it, and by her side I laid 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, my fingers plunged up the lubricious avenue to her 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 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's 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 corn — 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, burn 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 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.