through the unsanitary conditions and fearful dirt of the midwives. The children of these girls were almost invariably undersized weaklings. She had hardly ever met a wife of some years standing who was not diseased. She assured me, however, that she could easily find a young widow who was perfectly well and would please the most fastidious gentleman. I told her I would take her as my guide and guardian.
Once or twice she came back to her belief that Ethel would be a very attractive mistress. I must make a confession. Since I had enjoyed Winnie and the novelty was worn off, I often found myself desiring Ethel's more opulent beauty. What devil is it in men that makes them desire the untried? I cared for Winnie, esteemed her more than I could ever esteem Ethel, knew that she was incomparably prettier, and yet I commenced to desire Ethel in spite of all reason. I wanted to crush her generous tits with my hands, and sample the pleasures of what would undoubtedly be a comfortable and practiced pussy.
That same evening, the charming and providential Mrs. Redfern caught me in my cabin and proposed that Ethel should come to me that night.
“Not in this cabin,” I said, thinking Winnie might seek my company here.
“I'll put her two doors away, in number 17,” she replied, “and if you wish to visit her, the door will not be locked against you.”
I laughed and thanked her, but asked her to put Ethel off for a night or so, then gave her another gold tip and went my way.
In my cabin late that evening I hesitated. If Winnie had come I'd have been content. Why didn't she? I could not guess, but I began to want more and more the heavier hips, fuller breasts, and more luscious mouth of Ethel.
At eleven Winnie finally came but she was ill. Through the intense excitement, she said, her monthlies had come on long before it was due. I kissed her and consoled her and accompanied her back to her room.
The next night, when I knew Winnie would not come, I went to No. 17, opened the door and turned on the light. Ethel was in bed awaiting me. I locked the door and drew back the covers. Her nightie was in the way; I threw it up and climbed atop
Aren't you going to strip for me first, dear?” she said.
“Of course,” I gasped, overcome by her beauty. My eyes were drawn to the thick mossing between her legs and by the way her tits hung large and pendulous on her chest. My cock was erect as I drew off my trousers and let it spring free. It bobbed before Ethel's delighted eyes and she grabbed it as I pulled my shirt over my head. She began tugging it, reveling in the way it grew and stiffened as she led me to the bed.
When we lay down, I was startled when she turned me over on my back and raised herself up slightly while holding my lance upright with one hand. Acrobatically, she spread her legs, positioning my rampant tool, and then impaled herself on it. My cock was fully buried in her as she let her full weight fall on my belly. It was wonderful the way her pussy grasped my organ and played it. She moved up and down, eyes closed, seemingly aware of nothing as she rode me. I tried to thrust up to meet her, but she controlled the tempo expertly and I finally lay back and let her have her way. When she sensed I was becoming too excited and would soon eject a copious amount of sperm into her, she slowed, allowing the flood to recede only to release it once again with greater fury. At last, overcome by her own sensations, she began to pound her pussy against my cock as fast and as hard as she could. Her nipples thrust outward long and hard; her breasts bounced with each bucking descent on my ramrod. As she began to come, I reached down and nimbly inserted a finger between her buttocks. This additional stimulus sent her over the edge. She began to spasm uncontrollably as her pearly juices began to run down her thighs and onto mine. I pumped a hot injection into her immediately thereafter. She finally fell upon my chest, totally exhausted.
Resting beside this gorgeous nude woman, I contemplated her charms. I found Ethel quite as passionate as Winnie, but in a more selfish way; excited fully, she thought more of her pleasure than of mine while Winnie had always her lover's delight in mind. She was of far commoner origin; she would not talk of her feelings, thinking I would wish to forget all about the act as soon as it was over.
The last night before reaching Bombay, Winnie came to me and we had a long talk and arranged to meet. She could not do without me, she said, and begged me to be nice to her father so that we might meet easily. I swore I would be as pleasant as I could beand next day I saw her and her mother safely to their carriage.
I went to the hotel recommended by Mrs. Redfern who also took up her abode there. The second evening, she brought me a young girl of seventeena widowrather pretty but immature and inexperienced. When we were alone, I nearly tore her clothes from her. Her cunt was small and tight, but she had little response to passion in her; she seemed afraid to complain and didn't enjoy what we were doing.
I fucked her anyway, curious to see if any position that I chose would give her the admittedly minimal pleasure that I felt. I laid her upon her back and penetrated her in that fashion, then threw her legs over my shoulders and drove my cock forcefully into her, but there was no reaction. Because of this disinterest, I was able to maintain my composure for a longer time than usual, and so I continued to experiment. I turned on my back and lowered her onto my joystick as Ethel had done, then finally turned her over and entered her cunt from behind, cushioning my hard strokes on the soft rondures of her buttocks. It was all to no avail. Finally, I was so exasperated that I simply had her suck me until I exploded in her mouth. She didn't draw out the experience; her head bobbed up and down dutifully until she drew my passion from me and swallowed it expressionlessly. I couldn't even be angry about it; I was merely disappointed.
The girl was happy for the first time when I paid her.
Mrs. Redfern could only say, “Better luck next time,” but the better luck seldom materialized. Time and again she brought pretty young girls, but we could not converse and there was an awkwardness over the whole affair. Several of them even had all their pussy hairs taken off which seemed to increase their youthfulness. The experience cured me of my liking for the immature. Even the best of them failed to give me the thrill I had experienced with older girls. The cunt was often very tight; but it had not the gripping, pumping power of the mature woman's. I'd found that some older women, especially in France, use all the contractive power of their pussy and the movement of the hips to increase the throes of pleasure. A woman from twenty on, gifted with passion and in love with you, gives more pleasure than almost any girl.
It is strange that nearly everywhere women think that the whole art of love on their part is summed up in surrender. To excite the man, to give him the utmost thrill of pleasure, to respond at least to his desire passionately, never seems to occur to the average woman anywhere except in Japan, sometimes in China, and often in that garden of India, Ceylon. But with the young women in India proper, there is rarely any response, and Mrs. Redfern confessed to me that nearly all the older girls of 20 to 25 were diseased or had had some disease.
I didn't mind curtailing my activities with those girls, for one day Winnie came to my rooms and found me in and we had another long talk, after which she left without engaging in any of those acts I so dearly wished to repeat with her. She promised we would soon enough.
Perhaps I have not done enough to portray each of the girls I have had love-duets with. I am resolved at least to try and give their view of life and the love episodes.
In some way or other the freshness of youth made some of them more vivid to me. But others in maturity made a deathless impression on me and I do not want to pass them over without outlining their very souls. Many were kindlier, more loving and more generous than could be imagined at least by me, and these surely deserve to be saved from oblivion.
I remember one in particular in the South of France, who gave herself to me so simply, so easily that I did not at all realize that she was possessed by the very spirit of love. She was of good family and I soon found that her reckless abandon in sexual things was so complete that it was almost certain to lead to pregnancy. This frightened me. I knew and esteemed her mother and father and I was not free at the time, nor could I hope to free myself in any reasonable time; so I drew away from her the more resolutely because my passion grew so intense that I knew if I gave way to it, the result would be disaster.
Years later I met her. She had married and was happy, yet there was between us an instinctive sympathy, an attachment of heart and mind and soul that fills me with reverence for the spirit of pure love in her. She was so wise and yet so enthusiastic, so capable of devotion and yet free of all superstition. And when she told me that her yielding at first was wholly free of sensuality, that all she wanted was to please and content and if possible delight me, I remembered little things that convinced me the confession was wholly true. She had not weighed consequences, nor thought of disgrace: It was enough for her to love and to give herself to love, body and soul. I never met a nobler nature. Many years later when we met again, she showed me a generosity and a desire to help
