Confessions Of An English Traveler

I closed my eyes, my prick sliding up and down in my maid. I realized that Lady Haversock would gladly give me another chance. I saw a mental picture. I saw Lady Haversock, stark naked, on hands and knees, taking the fat Lord Haversock's cock in her anus.

She was beautiful even in imagination, my Lady Haversock. She knelt in boredom, plainly tolerating her husband's prick in her asshole. A bored look was on her beautiful face.

Suddenly I became aware of a high keening sound breaking from the clenched lips of my sexual partner. This grew and her hips increased speed in unison to the loudness of her cry.

Then her cry broke into happy words. “I come, m'lord, I come. Oh, how I am flowing! I am breaking inside, m'lord. Come with me, come with me-

Her hips fairly tried to pull my penis out, roots and all. I grabbed her plump hard buttocks with even firmer grip, both forefingers in her asshole to impale her and hold her steady while my cock poured my semen into her wet, white cunt.

I fucked with great hardness, my flesh smacking her plump bottom. She cried for me to implant her with child, but all women do that in moments of extreme passion.

My testicles pulled up hard in my sac, which was now very small. I felt great forces grouping in my belly. They roared forward, and became burning sex, and they in turn triggered my testicles-and my semen moved through its mysterious tubes to jet from the hole of my penis.

Oh, how we fucked! She took and grabbed and released; my fingers held her buttocks steady as I poured into her shot after shot, she taking each capsule in happy delirium.

The world faded away. No two other persons- not even Lady Haversock-existed. We were the world's only occupants. We fucked as Adam and Eve are reported to have fucked, all alone in the world.

Ah, the joys of sex, the happiness of fucking. When a man and woman couples their joy is complete. They reach to high heights, even though strangers, for as my uncle said, “Strangers many times fuck better than people in love whatever in love means.

“Each is new to the other. There are no memories of old hates and quarrels between them. Strangers fuck for the sheer joy of fucking.”

Now my good uncle's words rang in my roaring ears. I wondered, suddenly, how he did in the West Indies, and I knew that chances were better than even odds that, at this moment, he had his cocksman cock in some cunt, the owner either mulatto, black or white-for my uncle paid no attention to skin color.

Then all became lost in a whirling, smashing void as my cock unloaded all my surging, pulsating manhood into the eager, grasping cunt of this household bitch!

Why waste such glory in thought?

Episode Number Nine

I believe I have mislead my reader by labeling this book The Scandalous Confession of an English Traveler.

My readers will look forward to an Englishman traveling around the world indulging in various forms of international sex, but I meant that this Englishman travelled from bed to bed and not abroad.

But I shall not worry about this point. If this book is confiscated and the king gets it in his hands and gets his hands on me then I will indeed be a Traveler-the rope and public hanging.

Even in its so-called civilized state, the world is full of uncertainties. “The only thing certain is uncertainty,” my good uncle has many times stated. “Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”

I feel sure that these sayings were not original with my uncle. He evidently borrowed them from some book, for he always had his nose in a tome when not with some female.

Nevertheless, these are two good adages for a cocksman. A cocksman, to be blunt, has one foot in proper society and the other foot in the caldron of the devil, so as to speak.

He presents a suave, smiling, almost immature, face to society, for to gain his points-the breasts and cunts of females-he must travel inside society, merely going out into the pale when indulging in what our bastardly king would label fornication.

Many of my young readers aspiring to be cocksmen undoubtedly are in the low financial scale. Let this lack of funds not deter you. You have but two assets, to be blunt.

Your first asset is your penis. Let us talk in man-to-man cocksman terms, please. Your future depends much on your penis. And to be a successful cocksman you had best have a long penis-at least ten inches or over-and a big penis-its circumference great enough to amply fill most cunts.

I admit, here and now, that there are some cunts no penis-I repeat, no penis-can ever hope to fill And during my years of cocksmanship I have discovered that the smaller in stature the female the greater size her cunt.

At first, I couldn't believe this. I had, at sixteen, delivered the cock to Baroness Von Henning, the rich German, who had heard of the size of my prick and had deliberately chosen me to fuck her that particular night.

Now the Baroness is a small, dainty woman. When she undressed me I lay on her huge round bed and awaited her to quit her clothes and as she discarded these I admired her firm and small and well-breasted body, my young prick protruding upward at the proper angle, my foreskin peeled back over my pulsating knob as I gently fingered my cock in anticipation of this penetration.

The Baroness stood in front of her huge tall mirror, plainly teasing me by making me wait, but I was wise to her and raised no complaint. Her bare back was to me, and a lovely back it was, indeed.

Her small shoulders were square. (She stood four feet eleven.) Her waist was so tiny-oh, how small it was! And then her hips spread out, womanly but not big, the crack of her ass tiny and closed tightly, for she evidently didn't want me to admire her asshole, although I could slightly discern her pubic hair.

Then, she turned. I remember gasping. My god, my lord, what a beauty, what a walking, talking doll, what a lovely bit of God's own handiwork!

Naturally my first glance fell on her hips and lower structure, the first part of a woman that a cocksman admires, for here lies her cunt and anus and the female parts he seeks.

Her blonde pubic hair was a deep mass of loveliness, diamond shaped between her curvaceously rounded-but small-thighs.

Finally my gaze ran up her belly, which was flat and without wrinkles, and became riveted on her breasts, which I shall find hard to describe but shall attempt to do so, nonetheless.

For her size, she had the breasts of a much larger woman. Her nipples jutted upward and, to my surprise, they were not brown but a light rose color, the first of that color I had ever seen. In fact, I've seen no true rose- petal pink in nipples since that date!

I then looked at her face. When at the dance but an hour before her small face with its finely-chiseled features had been smiling and congenial. Now, facing the passion of sex, it was twisted, eyes narrowed, red lipped mouth tight… a typical overbearing Hessian visage.

I almost withdrew at that moment, but caught myself in time for my eyes again fell on that great mass of high pubic hair. I guessed that a small, delightful cunt lay buried beneath that thick bunch of coils; in fact, my prick became even longer and, I swear, even more hard, although it was concrete hard at the moment before.

“I like the top position,” the Baroness said, advancing on bare and silent small feet, those big delectable breasts moving up and down with each short, mincing step.

I'd expected that. My uncle had told me that the Hessian females he had penetrated all had wanted to ride him-not him ride them-except one, for the German always wants the top position in his crude, coarse and rasping ignorance. Nonetheless, her cunt was what counted, not the prestige of one race over the other, so accordingly I put my legs together as she mounted me.

What a beautiful picture she made, indeed! Her cream-colored skin, glistening in the dim lamplight, and her rose-tinted nipples, bobbing as she daintily stepped over me to face me, my prick in her two small hands.

I closed my eyes as she broke her knees and lowered her luscious hips down. Soon my stiff prick would be