apartment.
She looked at me for a second and then, as if picking a question at random, said, “Why do you like fucking so much?”
I replied teasingly, “Because women that aren't crazy come best when they're fucking, and I like to make my partner come as well as myself.”
Teresa seemed to be in an excellent humor and she began to laugh instead of being peeved.
“So when, instead, you sleep with a phenomenon like me, the only woman in both hemispheres who can fuck through her asshole, and when you corn-hole this woman, and when you feel her discharge like a mare pissing…”
“Can't you express yourself a little more genteelly?”
“Certainly, my dear. And when you see that the more you stick your dick into her fanny, the more jism gushes out of her pussy, you could at least have the good will not…”
“Not to want to fuck? All right, all right. I won't say anymore about it.”
She lay down on her stomach next to me. “For a man that can never think of anything but fucking you do a wicked job of cornholing. Where did you learn the motion?”
“I'm afraid I didn't learn very well, happened first when I was fourteen. A young girl I was playing hide- and-seek with taught it to me at the bottom of her garden. Actually, she had never done it before and neither had I. However, after that there were a good dozen others… But I don't suppose you know why the sisters of our friends are so clumsy at it?”
“You suppose I don't know why,” cried Teresa. “Do you think I've never seen your respectable young women cornholed? First of all, there's no way of finding their assholes. They're always dressed. You have to take them in their pants and it is too easy to loose your path and slide into their cunts by mistake. Then too, there isn't one in four who has sense enough to grease up the hole a little bit to make it easier. They give you their holes and that's all there is to it. You can stick your dick into it or not. It's more exciting for them raw like that, but it hurts them like hell itself. They beat themselves off as fast as they can, but you're not allowed to move or it might hurt them too much. Often this results in them coming without you ever losing a drop. That way they can do the same thing again tomorrow with someone else. Am I right?”
“How do you know so much?”
“I'm pretty well informed in that department. And they're stupid too, your young ladies, aren't they?”
“Charming, but pretty dumb, like you say. I remember an exception once, though, that had the habit and who let you do it softly and easily. She was patient, that one…”
“An angel!” cried Teresa gayly. “You could clean her out from top to bottom and she didn't know how to give you a smack with her behind? Is that it? What are you laughing for? I know your young things better than you do. And after-wards, let's see. After your virgins…?”
“What do you want me to tell you? Bawdy house stories? Those things aren't interesting.”
“I just want to know what you learned.”
“There was a little dancer who went for ten francs… She danced the belly dance in Montmartre…”
“Did she dance with her ass too?”
“Better than with her belly.”
“What was she, a brunette?”
“Naturally. I don't like blondes.”
“And her asshole?”
“Why are you so curious?”
Teresa, always supple, still nude, raised herself and lay over me on her elbows, only her breasts and stomach touching me.
“When you're not cornholing me, I need you to tell me stories about women being cornholed.”
“Why?”
“Don't keep asking me why I've got a fire in my ass. It's your fault!”
I could have said that I hadn't done anything to cause that, but instead I decided to take the opportunity to end her questioning.
“Your turn,” I said. “You began to tell me about your childhood before and you stopped at the age of seven.”
“This on the subject of women being corn-holed?”
“Yes.”
She was beginning to get excited and, as usual, her language strengthened proportionally.
“It's true that I've always been used to seeing women with pricks in their rears.
“The last thing I can remember of those days was a dinner where there were some men present, some friends. Afterwards, my mother and her three sisters started playing with them with their assholes. One of the men would stick his prick into one of them and the woman would have to guess whose it was. They laughed so much that I saw the men lose their hard-on's and have their pricks slip out. Nevertheless, those women had good- looking behinds!
“When I was still seven my mother sprained her shoulder and, since she could no longer perform, she quit the circus and her sisters and everything.
“It was then that she went to live with a little bitch at Marseilles that was a hundred times more of a whore than she and who was named Francine. A good-looker, Francine, but whore enough to suck a dog for twenty francs. All three of us slept together. Francine kept up her business in the afternoons, but mother didn't do anything except pimp for her. Then they'd be at each other's asses all night long when my mother wasn't exciting me to beat myself off in order to develop my snatch.
“After a month of that life, mother started to take on customers with her ass too. She even learned to suck pretty well, and she finally charged Francine to undertake my training. I was just turning eight years old; it was time for me to take on a few pricks with my rear. Mother had first done it when she was eight, I too, of course, Charlotte also, and Lili six months earlier. The sooner you get started the sooner you get used to it.
“Francine taught me everything. In six weeks she did everything in front of me that you can think of with two friends of hers that used to come specially in the evenings just to help her teach me. I saw Francine get fucked and corn-holed in the forty positions, and suck and eat pussy and lick asses and everything, I tell you! The first time I ever saw someone shit in a woman's mouth it was Francine that ate it. I was eight years old then. And all during my six weeks of training, any time anyone in that room came it was I that drank it. Francine even fished it out of the water in the bidet to put it on my tongue. And whenever my mother ate her out she took a spoon and collected the come from her pussy and gave it to me, the bitch.
“The day when I was eight, one twenty-fifth of April, at six o'clock, a man came and gave me a package that had in it a doll that said papa-mama and some red candy to suck. Then he stuck his prick into my behind after smearing it with more vaseline than you would have needed to cornhole a mouse… Mother cried, Francine was as pale as the laundry, and they were both afraid that he'd kill me and that they would get a couple years in prison… But he took the cherry from my rear so gently that a few minutes afterwards I didn't know which I was the happiest with, my doll, my candy, or the prick in my rear.”
Teresa uttered these last words with all the spirit of a child! She had straightened up and was resting on her two hands, her back arched, her breasts tightened, laughing fit to burst.
“I feel like eating you,” she said at last, without the least transition. “What's with you tonight, getting hard- ons like that?”
“You lie on me and you have to ask?”
“Tell me what it is that gives you a hard-on. My skin? My hair? My teats? My ass? My mouth? What?”
“Your skin.”
“But that thing gets just as hard in my month. You'll be sure to give me your come in my mouth, won't you? About twenty-six hours ago I promised you that I'd suck you and you haven't even made me keep my promise.”
“Ah! You think it's easy to choose when I sleep with you!”
“The thing is that I'm not as much a whore as you think. Go ahead! Go to a whorehouse. Get your negress on her back with all fours in the air and choose your hole. She'll tell you to go fuck yourself, your negress. But I, as
