The afternoon was sultry and much suited to my intent. Being flattered that I had become so loving of her and evidently an admirer, this Maude let me do. When I unpinned her hair I found it lustrous and full and, she being seated before her mirror, I lifted it and ran my fingers through it with a sigh while meeting the reflection of her eyes.
“Why do you sigh, Clara?” she asked innocently-if, that is, any woman can put a question innocently.
“I want to cuddle you,” said I and in so saying let my hands fall beneath her arms so that my fingers came just under the heavy bulging of her tits. Colouring not a little, she could not bring herself to ask what I was at, save to ask awkwardly and with a little laugh, “Do you? How loving you are! Why do you?”
“Because you feel nice,” I responded and with much boldness passed my palms full up under her heavy gourds and felt their fleshiness and weight, at which she blushed.
“Clara, you should not,” she said thickly, but a measure of excitement already pulsed in me.
“Are you not told that you feel nice?” I whispered and moved my lips about her neck which I had bared by raising up her hair.
“There is no one to tell me,” she uttered and then herself gave a deep sigh as I more openly fondled her breasts and felt her nipples stir.
“They are too discreet and shy, are they not?”
“Oh? Who?” was her response, but her face was suffused. She began to breathe heavily as my fingertips kneaded her proud gourds with more and more insistence. I soothed her forehead then as one might a child’s and felt it damp with excitement. An intense thrill ran through me, for I knew I had stirred her and that she was loathe to rise. Her stool being of the swivel type, I turned her about so that she came to half face me. Without hesitation I swooped my lips full upon hers and, swiftly gathering up her skirt, felt first her rounded knees and then her thighs, the skin of which was lustrous, silky, smooth.
“I know not who admires you most, Maude-Edwin or Vivian-for their eyes become haunted at the sight of your swaying hips, the bulging of your breasts, your…”
“St… st… stop it!” she moaned and made to twist her mouth away, but having tasted her saliva and passed a little of my own into her mouth, we were closer than she knew. “How can you speak this way, Clara, it is sinful. Oh! what are you at? Oh goodness, no!”
I had dropped to my knees and, her skirt being already raised, plunged my face between her thighs while all too late she endeavoured to clamp them together.
“Stop! I will not permit it!” she moaned, yet even so I managed to lever her thighs apart and, scenting the muskiness and feminine odours that lay between, moved my mouth up to her crotch where, beneath her drawers, I felt the mounding of her bush. I pressed to it and sought the lips between, pressing the cotton there to feel her moisture. “HAAAAR! Clara! You cannot!” she choked. “Oh! I have never done this before! Please stop!”
One knows it when a woman means such or does not. The slight perspiration twixt her fleshy thighs excited me. A screech from her and I had found the bow-ties of her drawers.
“Oh-ho, Clara, no!”
“How I love you,” I murmured from my furry haven there. Already my tongue had moistened the strip of cloth sufficiently to let me feel her lovelips in their splendour. Her hands beat feebly at my shoulders and yet I felt her weaken. Groping blindly up her hips, I loosed her nether garment so that it sagged about her seat.
I remember ever to this day her strange soft cries of hope and yet despair. Smaller than she, yet I managed to draw her up, wherewith her drawers fell to her ankles, cramped her steps, and with a low cry she fell upon the bed. Then like a small tigress I was upon her. Her gurgled sobs, her moans, went all for naught. Little as she would seeming have me do, I bared her to her waist and found her nest with urgent lips and tongue until she wilted, quivered and lay still.
“Maude dear, you have come,” I said proudly while she stared at me with hazy and apparently unseeing eyes. Her bush was sprinkled with her own dew and my saliva, the clump of dark hairs glistening and the rolled lips of her slit most moving to see.
“Wh… wh… what have you d… d… done to me?” she cried and buried her face in her hands.
“Something pleasant, something sweet,” I laughed and forced her mouth to mine and kissed her deep. “Did you not like it? Oh, do not pretend you did not, for we all do.”
Her long tongue engaged mine at that. For some reason my words appeared to stir her, perhaps because she had desired for so long for someone to say those very words to her, though I believe she would have denied it.
“But how young you are!” she murmured, startled at her own boldness, yet continuing to allow me to peck upon her lustrous lips. I knew her then for mine and stroked her bush with seeking fingers that found her oiled innerness and perked her lovespot up until it quivered like a little penis. “I have never been sinful,” she exclaimed softly in wonderment.
“You silly, why not? And besides, that is only a word. Oh, do keep your legs open for I want to teach you to.” “Why, you naughty thing!” she giggled but being more at ease now and with a little puffiness in her face which showed that she wanted to come again, she permitted me to caress her and stirred her bottom luxuriously as I did so.
“I shall make you naughty,” I replied, and before she could reply slipped my tongue within her mouth anew, rolling it all around her own until she trembled and clutched me and spilled her salty juices to my hand. Being well oiled between her thighs by then, I glided my hand under the heavy bulge of her naked bottom and inquired the tip of my forefinger gently around her puckered rosette, making her jump. Indeed, she tried to evade my finger there but I would not have it and, thrusting one leg over hers, kept her pinned, though ever with a saucy smile upon my face which fully disarmed her.
“N… n… no, not there!” she mumbled, but her mouth was ever now receptive to my own.
“And why not, pray, if it is nice there. I will make you wriggle, Maude, I will!”
“Oh-woh!” she choked, for I had slipped the tip of my finger in and held it so. “That is m… m… more wicked, Clara,” she gasped.
“Is it?” I smiled, for she was all of a wonder that I knew so much and would do so much at my age, yet this very fact intrigued her and perhaps brought her on more quickly than if I had been a full-grown woman. “I do not think you know yet what is nice and what is not,” I chided her, though lovingly. Her mouth was open and she breathed gently through her nostrils while my finger eased within her orifice to the first knuckle.
“Oh, Clara, t… t… take it out!”
“I will not. You have to learn. Has not Edwin at least fondled your bottom ever?”
“My goodness, no! The things you say! Such improprieties can never be.”
A sudden urge came over me at such doltishness and I sprang upon her in such wise that before she knew my intent I was perched with my legs on either side of her shoulders facing her, my skirt up and my knickerless state hovering but inches above her eyes.
“Lick me, Maude!” I demanded. Placing my hands beneath her neck I drew her face up until her lips splurged underneath my quim whose moisture of excitement bubbled to her mouth. For a brief moment she spluttered and would have struggled, but I held her firm, for my posture allowed me so to do, and in a trice had my cunny warm upon her mouth. “Your tongue, Maude!” I insisted. She hesitated for an instant, but the effluvia of my pouting sex already enflamed her nostrils and with a muffled sigh she drove her tongue within so that I squirmed and rubbed my honeypot all about until her lips and chin were oiled.
To demand and to receive is ever exciting. I tightened my stockinged knees to her head. She slurped and choked and slurped again, her tongue ever working like a small snake within me so that when I spilled I salted both her nostrils and her mouth, but kept her under for a longer moment in defiance until I felt her more submissive and finally eased myself up from her very slowly as though defying her to move.
She did not, but wiped her mouth and gazed at me, all words lost and thoughts a-tumble.
“Wait!” I commanded sharply and with that stood up and smoothed down my skirt. I wanted to see if she would wait. It was needful for her to, though she did not then know that. Going to the bathroom-for I had learned my way about the Vicarage-I brought a flannel, dipped it in her jug beside her bed and laved her face, soothing her with words and brushing back her hair. Almost like a doll she lay while then I sat her up, her drawers all pendant at her ankles still.
“N… n… no one will know, Clara?”
“Know? What is to know?” I turned about and gazed down from the window. We were alone in the house; my purpose was suited admirably. “You are no less than you were, nor I. Indeed we have gained, Maude. What sin or
