caress as exciting and fulminating as I could. I sucked the throbbing glans, curled my tongue around it, licking, sucking coaxing… and the effect upon my companion was soon apparent. He groaned with ecstasy and from time to time jerked away from me so that the sensitive glans receded within the shelter of its elastic covering of flesh.
Perceiving that this manoeuvre was designed to delay an orgasm, I redoubled my efforts and when he again tried to withdraw I followed him by raising my head and with my lips firmly compressed around the neck of the palpitating knob, I sucked and licked without pausing.
The muscles of his thighs and legs, pressing against my sides, were quivering. Suddenly he withdrew his right hand from under my, head and twisting sidewise reached behind him, groping with his fingers for my cunny. This was insult added to injury in my estimation and I tried to clench my legs against the invading hand. The effort was useless; he forced it between my legs and with the tips of his fore and index fingers he found my clitoris and began to titillate it.
Now began a new conflict. With every atom of mental influence I could bring to bear I tried to force that little nerve to ignore the incitation, to remain impassive to the friction which was being applied to it, to stay inert and lifeless.
I may as well have tried to stay the tides of the sea in their course. The traitorous, disloyal little thing cared not a whit for my humiliation and refused to heed the mental commands I was hurling at it. Despite the fact that it should have been as sleepy as I had been, it came almost instantly awake, hardened, and stood up stiffly.
He rubbed it in a peculiarly maddening way, a soft, twirling movement with the erected button lightly compressed between the tips of his two fingers. The little thrills began to generate, and communicated themselves to the surrounding area, up into my ovaries, down, seemingly into the very marrow of the bones in my thighs and legs.
Why say more? There was only one possible ending.
When the ultimate capacity of resistance was reached and passed, and in the very moment in which my organism was yielding to the diabolical incitation, my tormentor, waiting apparently for this precise moment, loosed within my mouth a flood of hot sperm. I choked, gurgling and gasping, as part of it gushed down my throat and the rest, escaping my lips, ran in hot, sticky rivulets down the sides of my cheeks, over my chin…
No sooner had the torrent subsided than he flung himself from me and lay panting on the bed by my side.
With the viscid stuff still dripping from my lips and its peculiar starchy flavour filling my mouth, I sprang from the bed and fled precipitately to the bathroom. First with water, then with tooth powder and brush and finally with repeated rinsing I endeavoured to purify my mouth.
When this was accomplished I went back into the room, turned on a light, and flung myself into a chair where, for a few moments I sat silently glaring at my tormentor who, with drowzy indifference, contemplated me through half-closed eyes.
'Well,' I said frigidly, breaking the silence. 'Aren't you going to congratulate me on my graduation into the cocksucking class?'
He smiled dryly.
'Regular little powder magazine, aren't you, baby? Come on, kid, don't be a spoilsport. I'll admit I was a little rough, but that was a keen nip you gave me. I'll make things right with you. I like you, baby, you've shown me the best time I've had in a long while, and I'm not pulling your leg, either.'
'A nice time you showed me,' I observed bitterly, 'trying to fuck me in the mouth while I was asleep and nearly choking me to death. You know girls here aren't supposed to do that! Why don't you go to a French house?'
This plaint seemed to afford him considerable amusement. He sat up in bed, laughing.
'Don't rate me so low socially, baby! I'm a sort of high-class chap with ecstatic inclinations!'
'I see; a special honour conferred on me. Quite a distinction, I must say.'
'Ha, ha, ha! Forgive me, baby. Word of honour, I'll behave quite properly in the future. Anyway, it wasn't so terrible, was it? Listen, I'll tell you a funny story. There was a young French girl just married and her mother was giving her some confidential advice. 'Daughter,' she said, 'the ultimate object of marriage is to have babies. Without the little dears no home is complete. However, the bearing and rearing of children is a confining task which imposes arduous and continuous obligations. It is my advice to you, daughter, that you do not have any babies during the first two or three years. You will then, in after life, not be deprived of the memories of a few years of happiness and freedom from care to which youth is justly entitled.' 'Ah, mother dear,' answered the blushing maiden, 'you need preoccupy yourself no further on that score. I shall never have any babies!' 'Never?' gasped the mother, 'why do you say that you will never have any babies, darling?'
'Oh, mother,' answered the girl, hiding her blushing face in the maternal bosom, 'I shall never have any babies because I simply can't force myself to swallow the horrid stuff! I always have to spit it out!' '
'And, so what?' I asked caustically, refusing to unbend at the ridiculous story.
'Don't you see, ha, ha, ha, don't you get the point? She didn't even know there was any other way of doing it. She thought she had to swallow the stuff to get a baby!'
Despite my efforts to remain haughty, my better humour was returning. I have always been like that, quick to anger, quick to forget.
There was something about this man which was irresistible. Even his impudence had a saving grace, an ingenuous, disarming quality. Only the memory of the slap he had given me remained to irritate me. He sat there in bed, smiling, a sheet draped carelessly about him, halfconcealing, half-revealing the smooth white muscles of his torso. His hair in its ruffled disorder gave him a boyish aspect, throwing a wellformed white forehead into relief against the background of bluishblack curls.
After all, what harm had really been done? And, I suddenly recalled, had he not earlier in the night given me a most delightful ten minutes by putting his tongue in my cunny? The service he had required of me was no less intimate. I shivered involuntarily at the recollection of the short but delicious episode. The last remnants of my resentment faded away. I began to feel slightly ashamed of myself for having made such a commotion.
'Still peeved at me, baby?' he inquired quizzically.
'No,' I answered, my lips twitching into a smile, 'only it was kind of… well, startling to be waked up that way from a sound sleep. I suppose you don't believe me, but I never did that before.'
'Of course I believe you, baby,' he interrupted, 'it was easy to see you hadn't any experience. Honestly, I don't know what came over me. You gave me such a stand tonight it came right back on me after I'd been asleep a short time. I woke up, and lay there looking at your pretty little mouth in the dim light, and he first thing I knew I got into a fierce argument with myself about it.'
'What on earth do you mean, an argument with yourself about my mouth?'
'Well, it was like this. At first I said to myself, it's too small, and then I said, no, it might be a tight fit, but it could be done. And the argument went on, until finally it got so hot it had to be decided definitely one way or the other, and so… and so…'
'And so I got fucked in the mouth to settle, it. Very well, Your Highness, shall we retire now, or is there any other way I can serve you?'
'Well, if it's not putting too much of a strain on your hospitality, I'd greatly appreciate a shot of brandy!'
I rang for the maid. After a long wait, she shuffled to the door halfasleep, took the order, and was back again in five minutes with the liquor. When this was consumed, we turned out the light and again composed ourselves for sleep.
The tumultuous events of the night, abetted perhaps by the brandy of which I also partook, were reflected throughout the remaining hours in a regular phantasmagoria of distorted dreams. In all these dreams I was sucking somebody's cock. Strangely enough, in them I felt no inhibitions, no reluctance. On the contrary, I seemed to be doing something quite natural, and which caused me the most delightful erotic reactions.
At first it was Rene as I had last seen him, but with an incongruous discrepancy in time which took us back to our old attic playroom days.
'I'm going to do something nice to you,' I whispered, and placing myself on my knees before him I unbuttoned his trousers and releasing his erected cock, took it in my mouth. 'No, no, Sis!' he protested, but he made no effort to escape the seductive caress. The thrill of vicarious delight was trembling through me when I suddenly observed that Hester was standing nearby, looking at me reproachfully. I paused for
a moment to tell her that it was all right, that Rene was only a foster brother, but even as I spoke, I saw that
