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“Frank” and I : Part 1 Chapter 7 – The wedding night【Classic British Spanking Novel】

FrankAndI_寝室

– The nightingale’s trill.
– The murder out.
– “Frank’s” avowal.
– The lovers.
– The first kiss and caress.
– A short courtship.
– The bride elect.
– Taking a maidenhead.
– The wedding night.
– The sweet awakening.
– A lesson in lust.
– The second connexion.
– Pleasure at last.
– How to wash dirty linen at home.

After the little affairs last narrated, things went on very quietly.

The weeks passed; it was again springtime, and the grounds round Oakhurst were looking most charming. The fine old trees, from which the place took its name, were bursting into leaf, the garden was full of crocuses, violets, daffodils, and all the various spring flowers, and the mossy banks were everywhere starred with primroses.

“Frank” was just eighteen years old, she had become quieter in many ways, but she was more woman-like and affectionate in her manner towards me, so that I felt sure the day was fast approaching when she would declare herself to me as a loving girl.

I was as fond of whipping as ever, and I often longed to see, and to spank her pretty bottom; but latterly, I never could find the least excuse for taking down her trousers; she was just a well-bred, well-conducted young lady dressed in male attire.

I sometimes used to spend a few days in London, and on those occasions, I generally visited Maud, who was still under my protection, though she had informed me that she was thinking of getting married.

When I was at home, I could always, whenever I felt inclined, “have” Lucy, who, ever since the day on which I had first poked her, had manifested an affection for me, which at times I found rather awkward, as I did not wish to be found out in an intrigue with one of my own servant girls.

But yet I did not like to snub her, for I always thoroughly enjoyed myself when I did poke her; moreover she allowed me to spank her; and she had a bottom that was well worth spanking; it was so broad, so fat and dimpled; yet withal it was firm, and I revelled in it; especially as she could take a spanking better than any woman I have ever come across.

I sometimes spanked her till my hand was sore, and her bottom was the colour of beetroot, and as hot as fire.

I occasionally gave a dinner party to the neighbouring squires and their families, and on those occasions, it always amused me to see “Frank” in correct evening dress, looking quite the “gentleman,” taking into dinner, with perfect composure, some young lady, or buxom matron.

“He” always got on well with the ladies, to whom “he” was most polite and attentive; but since she had grown up, she had become shy with women, and they, I think, considered “him” rather a duffer, as “he” did not smoke, or ride to hounds, or go in for athletic sports of any kind.

It had always been a source of wonder to me that none of the servants had ever any suspicion as to “Frank’s” true sex; but it is a fact, that during the whole period of her stay at Oakhurst, she managed to keep her secret from everyone but me.

The time passed on; and at the beginning of July, I found that I should have to go up to London for some days, on business connected with the estate.

I had not been away from home for a couple of months, and when “Frank” heard that I was going to town for a time, she became sad and dejected; and on the day of my departure, she hovered about me the whole time, and I could see that she could hardly keep back her tears.

She had never before shown so much emotion at my going away; so I thought I would chaff her a little, in a good-humoured way; but I could not get her to smile; and she said, sorrowfully: “I shall not know what to do with myself, without you.”

I laughed, saying: “Why, I have often been away before. You must amuse yourself as you have always done.” Then I shook hands with her, and drove off, leaving her standing on the terrace, in an attitude of dejection. The girl was very fond of me; of that I felt sure.

I was detained in London longer than I had expected; but I received a letter nearly every day from “Frank,” and I could see from the way she wrote, that she was pining for me, and longing for my return.

I also wished to go back to her; I often thought of her, and I did not go near Maud, but lived in chambers close to my club.

At last the day came when I was able to leave London, and I felt quite glad to find myself in the train on my way to Winchester.

When I arrived at the station, my dog-cart was waiting for me and in a short time I reached Oakhurst, where I found “Frank” on the terrace, waiting to receive me.

She welcomed me warmly, her face beaming, and her eyes glistening; but as we were under the observation of the servants, she had to suppress all outward show of emotion, but I saw that she was much moved.

As it was rather late, I proceeded at once to my room and changed my clothes, then I went down to the dining-room, and we took our seats at the table.

During dinner, “Frank” did not talk much; she appeared to be quietly happy, there was a soft light in her eyes, she did not bother me with questions, and she seemed perfectly content to sit and look at me.

When dinner was over, and I had smoked a cigar, we went into the drawing-room. It was a beautiful evening; the sun had been set for some time, and it was beginning to get dark; the long windows were open, and a gentle breeze wafted into the room the sweet scent of the roses which grew in profusion in the garden.

On a tree, not far off, a nightingale was just commencing to sing, giving forth every now and then a few mellow notes; all else was still. It was an ideal night for love-making. I was sitting in a low easy-chair, and “Frank” was sitting on a stool beside me. We were both silent; the light faded, and the room grew darker.

She put her hand on my arm, and nestling close up to me said: “Oh, I am so glad you are back! I have missed you dreadfully.”

There was such a loving tone in the girl’s voice that it made me think she was about to tell me her long concealed secret: so I put my arm round her waist in lover-like fashion, for the first time, and whispered in her ear:

“Why did you miss me?”

I could feel her tremble as I pressed her waist; she made no answer, but she rested her head on my breast and heaved a long, tremulous sigh.

“Why do you sigh? What is the matter with you, Frank?” I said, emphasizing the name.

Still she kept silent. The nightingale burst into full song, its liquid trills filling the air with melody; I pressed her closer to me, and bending over her, said coaxingly, “Tell me, Frank.”

Then she suddenly threw her arms round my neck, murmuring in a voice choked with emotion: “Oh, don’t call me Frank! My name is Frances, I am a woman, and I love you! I love you!”

My heart bounded with a feeling of joy and gratification. The confession had come at last! My patience was rewarded!

I lifted her off the stool on to my lap, and folding her in my arms, I kissed her passionately, on her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks, and her warm mouth.

It was too dark to see her face, but as my lips pressed her soft cheeks, I could feel that they were hot with blushes; and she lay like a little child in my arms, her bosom rising and falling quickly.

After a moment or two, I said: “I knew you were a girl, Frances!” She started, and uttering a little cry of intense astonishment, asked: “How long have you known it? How did you find it out?”

“I have known it for a long time. I found it out by seeing something you accidentally showed me on the day I birched you so severely.”

“Oh! Good gracious!” she exclaimed in a horrified tone.

I laughed, and stopped her mouth with a kiss, saying: “What does it matter when or how I found it out You have said that you love me, and I love you.”

“Oh, do you really? I am so, so glad. I was afraid you would be angry with me. I have been wishing for a long time, to tell you I was a girl, but I never had the courage to speak,” she said in a low voice, clinging close to me.

Then, after a pause, she asked timidly: “Why did you not tell me that you had found out I was a girl?”

“Because it would have caused bother, and altered all my arrangements; besides I preferred to wait until you told me yourself. I felt sure you would tell me some day; and I am glad the day has come at last.

You are now my sweetheart, you dear girl,” I said, kissing her.

“Oh! how patient and good you have been to me all these years; and how happy I feel at being your sweetheart,” she said, in a voice vibrating with emotion.

Then she got off my lap, and sitting down on the stool, put her little hand on mine and pressed it warmly.

“Now,” I said, “tell me when you first began to love me.”

“Oh, I began to love you the day you took me into your house, when I was homeless and friendless, and ever since that time, my love for you has been growing greater and greater.”

“Did you never feel angry with me when I whipped you?”

“No, never. Of course I did not like getting a whipping, as it was painful;-the rod was dreadful-but somehow or other, I seemed to love you more after you had given me a spanking.”

Then, after a pause, she added rather bashfully: “And I will confess to you, that at one time, I used to be naughty on purpose that you might spank me; for I liked to lie across your knees, and feel your hand stroking my bare skin; although I dreaded the pain that was to follow; for you always made me smart a great deal.”

I laughed at this queer confession, but was pleased to hear it, for it showed that the girl had a rather voluptuous disposition.

Then I said: “So it gave you pleasure to lie across my knees, and feel my hand stroking your bare skin? Well, I shall be delighted to let you have that pleasure now, if you like.”

She made no answer, but gave my hand a squeeze, which I took as a sign of assent; so I at once lifted her up, placed her in position, and took down her trousers; which I had not let down for upwards of six months.

It was too dark for me to see her bottom, but nevertheless I had great sensual pleasure in passing my hand over the swelling hemispheres of plump, firm flesh, which I stroked, squeezed, and played with in all sorts of ways, for a minute or two.

“Did you like that, Frances?” I asked, when I had done paddling with her bottom. “Oh, yes!” she replied, still lying face downwards on my lap.

“It was very nice. It gave me a most pleasant sensation.”

I smiled; and to give her another sensation, I put my hand under her belly, and gently touched, for the first time, her virgin cunt.

She started, and a tremor passed over her: then I took away my hand from the “spot,” as I did not wish to frighten her by going too fast I intended, however, to take her maidenhead that night-and I did not think she would object-but I meant to do the job comfortably in my own bed later on; so I put her on her feet, kissed her, and told her to button up.

Then I rang for lights, as it had become pitch-dark in the room.

In a few moments, one of the servants came, and after lighting all the lamps, went away again. Then I looked at Frances, who was sitting demurely on a chair at some distance from me; and, as soon as she caught my eye, she blushed, but instantly came to me, and perching herself on my knees, laid her cheek against mine, with a low sigh of perfect contentment; saying: “Oh, how nice it is not to have any secret between us!”

“Yes; it is very pleasant We are lovers now; so you must give me a nice kiss.”

She laughed softly and at once pressed her cherry lips to mine, kissing me warmly, and repeatedly. She had never kissed a man before, and no man but myself had ever kissed, or touched her in any way.

It was most delicious to feel her virgin lips pressed against mine, and to inhale her fragrant breath: and it was also extremely pleasant to feel her soft bottom pressing against my upright prick, as she sat on my lap.

I wondered if she could feel the peg underneath her!

I thought it was now time to speak plainly to my sweetheart She loved me, and she was a clever girl, who had read a great deal; therefore she, no doubt, had a very clear idea of what generally happens when a man and a woman love each other.

I said: “Frances, I have something to say to you. We love each other, and to-night we will set the seal on our mutual love. You understand what I mean?”

She blushed rosy-red, and hid her face in my breast; then, after a moment’s hesitation, said in a low, but firm voice: “Yes. I understand. I love you, and will do anything you wish.”

I raised her head, and kissed her on the lips, saying affectionately: “I love you too. You are a darling girl.”

She slipped off my knees, and seated herself in a chair, looking at me timidly, and I saw that she was rather frightened at the thought of what was before her.

And I must say, that under the circumstances, her timidity was only what one would have expected.

Her “courtship” had been short; my “proposal” had been sudden, and the “marriage” was to be consummated that night No wonder the girl was a little startled!

I did not bother her with talk, but I rang the bell, and ordered the servant to bring up a bottle of champagne, and some cake. In a short time, the cake and wine were placed on the table; then I told Frances to cut her “wedding cake,” which she did, smiling a little, and we both ate a piece.

Filling her glass with champagne, I made her drink it, and at the same time I drank her health as the “bride,” making a joking little speech which amused her, and the wine exhilarated her, so her face soon lost its timid look; she again became the loving girl, and she seated herself beside me; not talking much, but holding my hand in hers, and occasionally looking up at me, with a soft, love-light shining in her pretty blue eyes, and a slight smile dimpling the corners of her ripe, red lips.

I do not know whether the “blushing bride” felt impatient, or not, but to me, the “ardent bridegroom,” the time seemed to pass very slowly; and when the big ormolu clock on the mantelpiece chimed eleven, I rose from my seat, and tucking Frances’ hand under my arm, said: “Come along dear; it is time to go to bed” Then I led her out of the drawing-room, and upstairs into the long corridor, off which both our bedrooms opened.

To get to my room we had to pass her “virgin bower,” but she never faltered as we went by the door, and in another moment we were in my room, where we were sure to be undisturbed, as all the servants slept in another wing of the old house.

My chamber was large, and was handsomely furnished as a bed-sitting-room, with tables, cabinets, sofa, and easy chairs: there were some good pictures on the walls, and the polished oak floor was partially covered with fine, old Eastern rugs.

The bedstead was a big, brass one, with ample room in it for two persons.

I turned up the flame of a tall, pedestal lamp, and I also lighted all the wax candles in two Dresden China candelabra, which were on the mantelpiece, as I wanted the room to be brilliantly illuminated, so that I might have a good view of my “bride’s” charms.

But the fact of my “bride” being at that moment dressed as a man, made me feel rather inclined to laugh. However, the masculine attire would soon be off, and then the feminine figure would be revealed in all its naked beauty.

Kissing her as she stood bashfully in the middle of the room; I said: “Now, Frances, I want you to undress yourself, as I am longing to see the whole of your figure quite naked. You know I have often seen half of it bare.”

A little blush marked her cheeks, but she smiled, saying: “Very well. I will do as you wish.” Then she quietly took off her coat and waistcoat, collar and tie; and sitting down for a moment, pulled off her shoes and socks; next she unfastened her braces, unbuttoned her trousers, and let them slip down her legs on to the floor; finally, after a moment’s pause, she drew off her shirt and under-shirt, and throwing them on the floor, stood before me, perfectly naked.

She trembled a little, and her sense of modesty made her instinctively assume the attitude of the Venus de Medici: one arm stretched downwards, the hand hiding the secret spot, the other arm raised and held across her bosom; her head was turned aside, her eyes were cast down, and she was blushing scarlet from her brow to the upper part of her breast,-even her ears were red.

I gazed with admiration, and also with a strong feeling of lust, at the pretty, naked, virgin girl.

Her skin was smooth and white as alabaster; she was as plump as a partridge, and her figure was beautifully proportioned in every way; her small, well-shaped head was gracefully poised on her slim neck; her arms were well-formed; her bubbies were fully developed, round as apples, and firm looking, standing well out from her bosom, and tipped with small, erect, rosebud-like nipples; her belly was broad, and smooth; and her little cunt, which she was trying to screen with her hand, was shaded with soft, silky, golden hair.

When I had sufficiently feasted my eyes on the front part of her charming figure, I turned her round, and looked with increased admiration at the hinder part of her body,- for to me the back view of a naked woman is more pleasing than the front view.

Her shape, as seen from behind, was perfect It presented the true line of beauty and grace, as depicted by Hogarth: the gently sloping shoulders, the smooth, white back, curving slightly in to the fine loins; then the rounded contours of her broad, plump bottom, swelling out in grand curves, and sweeping down to her splendid, round, white thighs, which tapered to her beautifully shaped legs.

Her ankles were small, and she had tiny feet without blemish, the toes tipped with little pink nails.

I did not touch her, and she let me inspect her, standing quite still; like a beautiful statue; only instead of the lovely figure being cold marble, it was warm flesh and blood.

Putting my arms round her, I lifted her up, carried her to the bed, and stretched her upon it at full length; then, after I had undressed myself, I put out the lamp and most of the candles, but I left several burning, so that the room was still well lighted.

The girl never moved, but lay just as I had put her, flat upon her back, on the outside of the bed; she had covered her blushing face with both her hands, and I noticed that every now and then a slight tremor passed over her whole body.

However, before making the grand assault, there was a final preparation to be made; and that was to spread something on the bed to prevent it being stained by her blood; so I got a couple of large bath towels, and put them doubled, underneath her loins, bottom and thighs.

The victim was on the altar, ready for the sacrifice!

Burning with a fierce desire, I got on the bed, clasped her lithe, yielding body in my arms, and pressed my hand in all directions over her deliciously smooth, satin-like, white skin.

I toyed with her beautiful, round, firm bubbies, squeezing the elastic flesh, and gently pinching the tiny, pink nipples which seemed to stiffen slightly at the touch of my fingers.

I stroked her soft belly; ran my hand up and down her thighs; and felt the calves of her legs.

Then turning her over on to her face, I played with her magnificent bottom in all sorts of ways; I smoothed it, I pinched it gently, and I spanked it slightly; I put my hand in the division between the cheeks and separating them a little, I looked at the little violet spot in the middle; then grasping with both hands the plump firm flesh, I pressed it with my fingers till the blood came and went.

She never made a movement, but I could feel her body quiver every now and then.

I turned her over on to her back again, and burying my face in the warm valley between her titties, I kissed them all over; and taking in my mouth one of her little nipples, I nibbled it, at the same time inhaling with pleasure, the sweet, subtle, feminine odour which always emanates from the body of a clean, healthy young woman.

I then looked at her small, virgin cunt, kissed it, and laying my hand upon it, gently put my forefinger between its lips, making the girl shrink convulsively, and utter a startled little cry; and at the same time, she instinctively pulled my hand away from the “spot.”

I prepared for action. “Frances,” I said, “the moment has come. What I am going to do to you, will give you a little pain at first; but afterwards, you will experience nothing but pleasure when I do it to you. Do you feel much frightened?”

“No,” she whispered; but nevertheless she looked a little alarmed, as she lay before me, naked and palpitating, waiting for the stroke.

I stretched out her legs as widely as possible, then, after placing myself in position to make the assault, I separated with my fingers the tightly-closed lips of her little cunt and inserted the tip of my prick; the girl, as she felt the stiff member entering her body, shrunk away from me slightly, and uttered a little cry.

I pressed my lips upon her mouth, and laid my breast upon her naked, heaving bosom; then putting my hands under her, and taking hold of the cheeks of her bottom, I began to fuck her with long, slow strokes, each thrust forcing my prick a little deeper into her tight cunt which clipped my member closely in a warm embrace.

The sensation was delightful! With a few vigorous movements of my loins, I gradually drove the weapon further and further into the sheath; the pain making the girl wince and groan; but she could not help moving her bottom briskly up and down to meet my thrusts. I worked away, till at last the tip of my tool touched the maidenhead which barred the passage.

And now, the increased pain she felt as I battered away at the tough membrane, caused her to utter little squeaks, but she did all she could to help me; wriggling, arching her loins, heaving up her bottom, and pressing me to her bosom.

I poked away as hard as I could, and she bounded under me, groaning, and squeaking. I thought the membrane would never yield.

I paused for a moment to recover my breath; then taking a fresh hold of her bottom, I recommenced fucking her with increased vigour, making her quiver all over; but she managed to gasp out between her squeaks and groans: “Oh! Oh! You-are-hurting-me-dreadfully!”

At last I felt the thing beginning to yield, and after a few more powerful thrusts, her maidenhead gave way; she uttered a sharp cry of pain, and my prick buried itself to the roots in her cunt.

Then, a few short digs finished the affair; the supreme moment arrived, the delicious spasm seized me, and I spent profusely, pouring out a torrent of boiling sperm, while she gasped, squirmed, and wriggled her bottom furiously, uttering little squeaks of mingled pleasure and pain as the hot stuff spurted in gushes up her lacerated cunt.

And when all was over, she lay trembling in my arms, her breath coming and going quickly, her bosom heaving tumultuously, and the flesh of her bottom twitching nervously; her cheeks were scarlet, and there was a languorous look in her moist eyes.

As Frances was “small,” and as I was “great,” she had suffered a good deal of pain;-much more than a larger made woman would have suffered,-there had been a considerably effusion of blood, and the proof of her virginity was plentifully displayed on the hair of the “spot,” on her thighs, and on the towels under her bottom.

And as soon as she had fairly recovered herself, she noticed the sanguinary stains. “Oh-h!” she exclaimed in a horrified tone, beginning to cry. “I am bleeding!”

I kissed her, and soothed her, calling her all sorts of endearing names; telling her that it was nothing, and that every woman bled more or less, the first time she was embraced by a man.

She soon grew calm, and smiled at me faintly; then I got a basin of water and a sponge, with which I carefully removed all the traces of my “bloody” work from her person, and dried her with a soft towel, while she lay, with outstretched legs, and blushing cheeks, looking up at me; finally I got one of my nightshirts, put it on her and made her get between the sheets.

I then washed my “gory weapon,” and got into bed beside her, where she at once cuddled up to me, saying with a deep sigh: “I am glad it is over. It was very painful, and it did not give me the least pleasure.”

I laughed, saying: “I suppose it was rather painful. Never mind. You will find that it will give you great pleasure in future.”

She looked rather incredulous, and made a little face, as she laid her head on the pillow. She appeared to be quite worn out; her eyes closed, and in a few moments, she fell fast asleep.

Then I got up, extinguished the candles, and crept quietly into bed again, without disturbing the sleeping girl; and soon after I fell asleep myself.

I woke two or three times during the night, each time experiencing a feeling of pleasure, and getting a cockstand at the contact of the girl’s plump, warm flesh, but as she still continued to sleep soundly, I did not disturb her.

I woke again when it was broad daylight, and on glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece I saw that it was six o’clock. Then, sitting op in the bed, I gazed at Frances, who was lying on her back, sleeping like a child, and looking exquisitely pretty.

Her short, curly, golden hair was ruffled over her broad, white forehead; her blue-veined eyelids were closely shut; the long, curved eyelashes resting on her smooth cheeks, which were flushed with a delicate pink tinge like the petals of a rose; her red lips were slightly separated, showing her small, pearl-white teeth; and as the collar of the nightshirt was a little open, I could see the upper part of her titties, which looked like tiny mounds of snow.

Bending over her, I pressed my lips upon her rosebud mouth in a long, hot kiss, and she woke up with a little start, looking rather bewildered, as if she could not quite make out where she was; and she gazed at me for a moment, with her big blue eyes wide open, her cheeks at the same time growing very red; then a bright smile lit up her pretty face, and, throwing her arms round my neck, she kissed me, saying: “Oh, how funny it seems for me to be in bed with you!”

“I think it is very nice,” said I, feeling her bubbies with one hand, and stroking her bottom with the other.

“How did you sleep?”

“Very soundly. I never opened my eyes from the time I went to sleep until you woke me. I was very tired after what happened last night,” she added, glancing at me slyly.

“And sore too, I daresay,” said I, smiling and pinching her thigh.

“Now let me have a look at the tender spot,” She laughed, and at once laid herself fiat down upon her back; then I turned down the bedclothes, and pulled her nightgown up to her chin, so that the whole front part of her lovely body was naked; her delicate skin looking even more beautifully white by daylight, than it had by candle-light.

After I had sufficiently admired the charming spectacle presented by the girl as she lay naked before me, I made her stretch out her legs, and then with my two forefingers, I separated as widely as possible the outer lips of her cunt, and examined the inside of it; finding that it was rather inflamed; the inner lips being a bright pink colour, and also a little swollen; and, on looking up the vagina, I could plainly see the lacerated edges of the ruptured maidenhead.

“Carunculae myrtiformes,” they are called by surgeons.
“The ‘spot’ looks rather sore,” I said.

“It smarts a little, and I have a feeling as if something was still sticking in it, and stretching it.”

Taking her hand, I placed it on my rampant prick. “There, Frances,” I said. “Feel and examine the thing that did all the damage.”

She sat up in the bed, clasped her little white hand round my tool, and gazed at it with eyes round with astonishment, exclaiming: “Oh! what an enormous thing it is! No wonder it hurt me!”

Then, with her fingers, she measured its length, and pulling back the foreskin, exposed the ruby tip; the appearance of which seemed to amuse her, for she laughed softly.

“Oh, what a funny-looking thing it is, with its big red knob! I never should have believed that such a great thing as that could have got into my little”-she stopped and looked comically at me.

She really did not know what to call her thing.

“Do you know what the things are called?” I asked her.

“No, I don’t I wish you would tell me,”She replied eagerly.

I laughed, and told her the names of the various parts of man and woman, and also all the terms in the vocabulary of love; and in addition, I explained to her the different positions in which a man may embrace a woman.

She listened with rapt attention, her cheeks flushing, and her eyes sparkling at my graphic descriptions; and during the whole time I was speaking, she kept hold of my tool, occasionally squeezing it, and making me feel intensely randy.

So, I said:”That is a very different ‘thing’ to the one you felt between little Tom’s legs when you spanked him.”

She let go her hold, blushing very red, and gazing at me in speechless astonishment, and looking so utterly mystified, that I burst out laughing and told her how I had seen her spanking the boy, and also putting her hand under his belly.

“Oh, dear me! Did you see me do that?” she said, looking a little shamefaced for a moment; then she added, with a gleam of merriment in her eyes: “It was such a funny little morsel It felt just like a worm. But you must have been surprised to see me do such a thing?”

“No, I was not,” I replied laughing.

“You had the boy lying across your knees with his trousers down, and it was quite natural that you should have wished to feel what he had between his legs. You were a big girl at the time, and all big girls like to touch little boys’ things.”

And, I added, “all big boys like to touch little girls’ things.”

She looked at me for a moment, with a demure expression on her face, but with a twinkle in her eyes; then she remarked: “Do they really?”

I rolled her over, pulled her nightgown up, and played with her; paddling with her bubbies, pinching the cheeks of her bottom in turn; pulling the soft, silky hair which covered the “mons veneris,” and tickling the “spot,” till she got very excited.

Her bosom heaved, a sensuous look came into her eyes, her cheeks flushed, and she stretched out her legs; evidently wishing me to poke her.

I was quite ready for the job, so, clasping her in my arms, I got into her; this time without much difficulty, as there was nothing to bar the passage, though it was very tight.

She winced, uttering a low cry as my prick again stretched her sore, little cunt, but she braced herself up, clenching her teeth, and holding her breath for a moment I began to fuck her vigorously, but as slowly as I could, for I wanted to make the pleasure last as long as possible.

My lips were on hers, my breast was on her bosom, my hands gripped the cheeks of her bottom, and at each thrust I drove my prick into her, as far as it would go; then, drawing it out again through the clinging folds of her cunt, till only the tip of the weapon remained in the sheath, I again forced in up to the hilt, with powerful movements of my loins; making Frances bound and wriggle in voluptuous pain.

It was delicious! She worked her loins vigorously, heaving up her bottom to meet my down thrusts, groaning a little, but embracing me tightly, and evidently enjoying the poke.

In a very short time I was obliged to come to the short digs; she wriggled, and squeaked; the spasm seized us both at the same moment, and as I discharged, she “came,” uttering a long, shuddering sigh, squirming under me, and wriggling her bottom in a most lively fashion;-hugging me tightly, and actually biting my shoulder in her delicious ecstasy, till she had taken in every drop of moisture from my still stiff prick, round which the lips of her cunt clung tightly, as if loath to let go.

It had been a most delightful poke.

I do not think I had ever enjoyed a woman more. I held her in my arms till she had done panting and sighing; then giving her a kiss, I asked her how she had liked her second lesson in the “art of love.”

“Oh,” she replied, “it was rather painful at first, but after a few seconds, I had no sense of pain, my only feeling being one of pleasure; and at the last, the sensation was quite delightful, when I felt a peculiar thrill pass over me, and the hot stuff gushed out of you.

It seemed to go right up me in a burning stream, and I could not help twisting myself about. Oh! it was nice!”

I did not poke her again, but we had a little amorous dalliance, which she entered into with spirit, thoroughly enjoying the fun, and showing that she had a decidedly voluptuous disposition.

At last, I told her to go to her room, and rumple her bed, so that it should look as if it had been slept in as usual.

She laughed, and jumping out of bed, huddled on her clothes; then she picked up the blood-stained towels, saying: “I will take these away, and when I am having my bath, I will wash them, and leave them in the bathroom.”

Then she added, looking with a meaning smile at me: “I have had to wash many a towel before now.”

“By Jove! Frances,” I exclaimed. “It is lucky you thought of the towels. I should have forgotten all about them, and left them lying on the floor. Now give me a kiss, and ran away.”

She came to the bedside, and bending over me, pressed her soft lips on mine in a long kiss; then she left the room, and I turned over on to my side, and went to sleep; not waking until my man brought in my bath.

TOC