had an opportunity to slip into his room, he arose hastily and snapped the catch on the door. Returning to his chair he drew me between his knees and as I stood there he passed his hands caressingly down over my body from my armpits to my knees, and when they ascended they were under my dress instead of outside. He stroked my bare thighs above the tops of my stockings and all the while a ceaseless flow of words fell from his lips as though with this he sought to distract my attention from the movement of his hands.
“Well, well, well, who's here but pretty little Jessie, come to cheer up poor old lonely Peters. My sweet little cabbage. She's lonely, too. Mamma Agnes is gone and Jessie's all alone in the big house… isn't she…?” He paused, waiting for my nodded confirmation. “Well, well, well. We'll have a nice little chat in here all by ourselves.”
His hands had worked up inside the loose legs of my panties and his fingers were squeezing the cheeks of my bottom.
“Such a pretty, clever little girl… such legs… '
He withdrew his hands after a final affectionate squeeze and raised them to the elastic band which sustained my panties about my waist, and in a moment I felt them being slipped down over my hips.
I waited expectantly.
When the panties were down and hanging loosely about my knees, Mr. Peters put an arm around me, drew me closer, and the next instant his hand was cupped over my cunny. This maneuver surprised me somewhat, for I supposed he intended to look at it again. But no, something different was going to happen. The hand pressed over my cunny began to move with a gentle grinding motion, and almost at once those delicious feelings which the tip of Rene's dickey had previously evoked began again. Involuntarily, I glanced toward Mr. Peters' lap. Along the inside length of his trouser leg was an enormous swelling.
As I fixed my astonished gaze on it I could see the cloth jerking under the spasmodic expansions and contractions underneath. But the rapidly increasing intensity of the pleasurable sensations which were now tingling through my body under Mr. Peters' manipulations soon caused me to forget everything else. As the climax approached my knees began to tremble and when it reached its zenith, releasing those indescribably delicious thrills to go shooting through my body, I swayed dizzily. Mr. Peters was still talking, but I no longer knew what he was saying.
When Rene came home I had another shilling to show him. He listened attentively to my account of just what had happened and wanted me to show him exactly what Mr. Peters had done to me. I took off my panties and placed his hand in the same position in which Mr. Peters had held his. Although the contact of Rene's soft little hand was much more agreeable than Mr. Peters' hard and calloused palm, my sexual orgasm, probably exhausted by the thorough masturbating I had undergone, refused to respond to Rene's efforts.
However, his own emotions were aroused by the pantomime and, yielding to his command, I lay down on the mattress and let him straddle me while he nuzzled and poked at my cunny with his little cock. I took it in my fingers to press it against the spot which was most responsive to its touch and it was while holding it thus that Rene's movements suddenly became more precipitate.
“Squeeze it tight!” he gasped.
I turned my eyes toward his face. It was strained and tense and his breath was short and panting. Something of his emotion infected me and prompted quite by instinct, I clutched his stiff little dickey tighter and began to work it with my fingers. It was no longer even in contact with my cunny but sliding in and out of my clenched fist.
His legs stiffened rigidly and his movements, except for a final convulsive shudder, ceased. At the same instant I sensed the presence of some warm, moist substance in my hand. I looked at it wonderingly and found my palm and fingers sticky with a milky, viscid fluid.
One night, a week or so later, Rene and I were alone in the house. Papa rarely came in before midnight and was generally so tipsy that Mamma Agnes would have to put him to bed. On this occasion she had gone to visit a sick friend and did not expect to return until quite late. Mr. Peters had heard something of this and had whispered to me that I should not go to bed until he returned as he was sure he would want me to go on an errand for him.
He came in about nine o'clock and after confirming Mamma Agnes' absence, sent me to the corner to get a paper with instructions to bring it to his room when I came back. I had already communicated to Rene my suspicion that Mr. Peters would “do something” to me when I took the paper into his room, and Rene was going to peek through the keyhole. It even occurred to me to take off my panties before going in.
My juvenile intuition was quite correct and Mr. Peters masturbated me again while I stood between his knees holding my dress up and my foster brother Rene crouched outside the door watching through the keyhole.
Poor Mr. Peters. He never attempted to do anything except play with me in this fashion and whether it was in his mind to venture further as my sexual instincts unfolded will never be known, for one day, less than three months after his first tentative overture, he was knocked down by an omnibus and carried to a hospital where he died without ever regaining consciousness. I cried heartily when it was known that we would never see him again and his simple effects were packed up for removal. In my estimation he was a kindly and generous soul who had been the fount of many blessings.
A short time after Mr. Peters' departure, a neighborhood scandal was bruited about among the residents of the vicinity. Down the street, in the big house on the corner, lived a retired sea captain and his rather large family. They were rated as well-to-do and employed a maidservant, a cute little thing whose trim, silk-clad legs, black uniform and lace-edged apron I had always secretly envied.
Among the younger children of his household was a boy named Leonard and a girl named Maisie. Leonard was about the same age as Rene, but was undersized and wore glasses which gave his wizened countenance a peculiarly owlish aspect. Maisie was very pretty. She was two years younger than I. Both these children were precocious. It was said that Maisie would show her cunny to any boy who wanted to see it and Leonard bragged that he fucked the maidservant whenever he felt like it. There was some doubt as to the veracity of this, but the doubt was dispelled abruptly when the maidservant suddenly disappeared and the older children of the household whispered into the ears of their special confidants that she had been summarily dismissed after having been caught in the very act of sucking Leonard's dickey while supposed to be supervising his bath.
“She had it right in her mouth when Mamma caught her!” they whispered impressively.
Rene pressed Leonard for details when the opportunity later presented itself, and listened to an entirely frank exposition of the affair, which he then communicated to me.
The liaison with the maidservant had been started several months previously by the versatile little maid herself. Each night, on tucking him into bed, she had been in the habit of putting her hand under the covers to see whether he had a hard-on. Inasmuch as such was almost invariably the case, and the condition not being favorable in her opinion to sound sleep, her remedy was to reduce the rigidity by means of a hand massage to make it “lie down and go to sleep.”
One night she told Leonard that her efforts to make him sleepy were having a contrary effect on her and that she couldn't go to sleep for hours after having put him to sleep. There was a way both could have their sleeplessness cured. She would slip into his room later that night after everybody was in bed and explain it to him. She squeezed his dickey to make sure it was in its usual state of erection but refrained from taking the customary measures to make it lie down.
When all was quiet in the household she slipped into his room like a little ghost in her white nightgown, threw the covers back and lay down by him. Taking his dickey in one hand she worked it until it was in its maximum state of rigidity. With the other she guided his fingers between her legs and with various motions and whispered instructions showed him how to reciprocate the message.
“Her cunny has hair all around it, just like a grown-up person,” confided Leonard.
After a while she stopped the rubbing and told him to get on top of her. When he was in the proper position she started his dickey in the right direction and, poppo! It went inside, just like that.
At this juncture in the recital, Rene interrupted to clear up a confusing point. Had Leonard's dickey gone clear in, or had it just sort of rubbed along her cunny?
Emphatically, it had gone in, entirely and completely, not a bit stayed outside. He was sure and specific on this point. It was dark that time, but they had done it subsequently in the daytime when he could even look down and see it while it was going in and out, and it absolutely went clear in.
The story of Leonard's relation with the maidservant progressed from frigging to fucking and finally to the last act, in which the unexpected entry of his mother into the bathroom while he was enjoying, and not for the first time, the delights of being sucked off by the versatile maid had brought an end to the fun.
Now the maid was gone and he was obliged to massage his dickey for himself at night in order to make it lie
