considered a trifling offense.
For over a month I lived between Winnie and May and was more than content with my lot. Winnie was much stronger and more resolute, but May was more sensuous and her yielding and gentleness were infinitely touching. When I disappointed her in love, the big, dark eyes filled with tears. Winnie, on the other hand, would get angry and tear her passion to tatters. Still, they both gave me intense pleasure, and of a new kind, for it must be remembered that I was forty-five at the time and my young mistresses were both in the late teens.
I had often thought of bringing them together. I consulted Mrs. Redfern, making sure to bring up the subject casually. To my instant delight, she responded favorably to the idea.
“Winnie is such a dear,” she said, “and fortunately she already knows and trusts me. I really think you ought to let me put it to her.”
I asked her why.
“Oh, women have ways of talking about such things!” she said with a merry laugh, and I supposed they had!
“And what about May? Do you think you'll be able to persuade her?” I was not sure about May's reaction either.
“You just leave it to me, sir!”
I was only too glad to. Our upbringing has made it difficult for us to engineer romantic situations whereas, with the aid of one other person only, how easily most love trysts are arranged! A few days later, the cunning lady came to me and announced that her entreaties had been successful. The meeting was arranged for the following day.
Only one thing had disturbed her, she said. It was the fact that Winnie was white and May a half-caste. She thought Winnie might have been put off by it. I laughed at her fears.
“To think that a girl like Winnie, so forthright and honest,” I protested, “would entertain such contemptible notions as race prejudice and at the same time, in her inner self, give way to the desire to indulge in illicit pleasures, is not to know how beautiful her soul really is! I see that in some ways I know her better than you do, Mrs. Redfern!”
She laughed and exclaimed almost with a blush: “Oh, I suppose that sometimes I must appear very old- fashioned as compared with you and the girls!”
“Not at all, Mrs. Redfern,” I replied. “You have, like I do, the very heart of Youth!”
Truly, as I was to find out, she had. Indeed, as she walked out of the room after that very conversation, I couldn't help noticing how full and resilient were her buttocks and how shapely were her legs in spite of her forty- two years. Here, under my nose all the time, had been a woman without doubt both passionate and imaginative. I laughed at my discovery. How relative is one's vision to one's situation!
As on the previous occasionon the “wedding night,” so to speakI arranged the room with flowers, fruit and wine, strewed cushions about the floor, bathed, put on my bathrobe and prepared for a pleasant afternoon.
Winnie arrived first, alone. She seemed a little nervous. I did my utmost to calm her anxieties.
“Tell me, Winnie,” I said, “are you afraid of me?”
“Oh, no! Not of you, Frank, darling,” cried the sweet child passionately. “I'm just nervous because it is the first time, with anyone else, I mean.”
I told her not to be afraid, that nothing would take place against her will, and asked her if she didn't know me well enough to know that I would stoop to nothing debasing or hurtful. She said that of course she did and that it would give her pleasure to do just what I wanted her to do. I kissed her sweet forehead.
Then I poured her a glass of wine.
“If you are old enough to have your sense of touch delighted,” I said with a smile, “you are old enough to have your sense of taste delighted.”
Winnie laughed merrily.
“Oh, that's all right!” she said. “Father lets me drink wine at dinner!”
“Then perhaps he wouldn't mind your having breakfast with me?” I said jestingly.
Winnie giggled and then said soberly: “Sometimes I think you're the cleverest man in the world, Frank.”
I bowed in mock-acceptance of the compliment. At that moment the bell rang.
“That will be our other guest!” I said with a laugh and went immediately to the door and opened it. Sure enough, it was May in the company of Mrs. Redfern. “If you don't mind, sir,” the good lady said at once, “I'll just attend to the undressing of May while you attend to the disrobing of the other young lady.”
“Just as you think best, Mrs. Redfern.”
“Come, May. Sit down over here with me,” the lady said. May did as she was bid.
Winnie, the soul of sweetness and understanding, came right across to me and said: “You undress me, Frank. It wouldn't be fair to May if I wasn't undressed at the same time.”
May shot her a grateful glance and the two delightful girls smiled at each other. If I had had any compunctions about this meeting, they were gone now, like a dandelion in the wind. I kissed Winnie on the lips and acted the part of her doting valet. Mrs. Redfern did the same for the duskier of my playmates and soon the two houris confronted one another across the room, as stark naked as the first day they were born.
The first words spoken were by Winnie.
“Oh, look at her pussy!” she cried in a shrill voice. “It's been shaved off!”
Mrs. Redfern and I laughed and May blushed prettily.
“It's the custom where she comes from, my dear,” I said, when the humor of the situation allowed.
“Do you like it that way?” Winnie said to May in a friendly, earnest tone of voice.
“I haven't tried the other way!” said May cleverly, and the two of them ran into one another's arms. How pretty they looked, like two little ballet dancers in Swan Lake, only much more beautiful, for the smooth glimmer of their naked flesh made them even more beautiful still.
“And now, you take your clothes off, Frank!” Winnie called out, laughing at me over her shoulder.
I laughed as well. Without delay, and heedless of the fact that Mrs. Redfern was still in the room, I threw off my bathrobe and stood naked in their sight. I was already aroused and the women burst out laughing when they saw me and the way my enraged manhood bobbed in front of my belly.
“Oh really! Mr. Harris!” Mrs. Redfern said.
But without paying attention to her, I moved swiftly across the room and encircled the girls with my arms. We stood in a group, smiling at one another.
“Well really!” Mrs. Redfern said. “If that's going to be the way of it!” And without another word she, too, began to strip. Indeed, I don't think one of us had any desire to make her desist. The girls already had me on the floor and were teasing me by biting me all over. A moment later, Mrs. Redfern, heavily built but very well made and neat in her movements, had thrown herself into the fray. We all rolled over on the carpet and a moment later, with a feeling almost of shock, which soon gave way to delight, I realized that all three of them were seeking to pinion me in erotic clasps to the floor. Mrs. Redfern had taken my cock in her mouth and she lay with the weight of her breasts and upper torso on my thighs, prohibiting the movement of my legs. MayI was able to feel rather than see herwas seated astride my belly and urging me as she would a horse, while Winnie, the devil of the warren, squatted above my head, her taut cunt a sword of Damocles suspended above my face. I laughed merrily and, with a supple twist of my body, unsaddled all three on the rich Indian carpet. They rolled aside, like three impertinent Bacchantes, in a flurry of laughter and naked limbs.
Mrs. Redfern wasted no time. In a trice, she had pinioned her darling May to the floor and began to caress her passionately with tongue and lips. May laughed delightedly as the older woman crushed down on her bald pussy.
But when Mrs. Redfern's darting tongue found the center of her love notch, May's laughter turned to moans of delight. The older woman played her expertly, licking all around the smooth skin of her mount, plunging inside the pouting slit with forceful strokes, while working the girl's clit with an attentive finger. Finally she abandoned the outskirts of May's budding womanhood and devoted herself solely to scouring the tender pink inner membranes with the tip of her tongue. This sent the girl into a paroxysm of ecstasy which threatened to render her unconscious.
Winnie, meanwhile, stood with her hands on her slim hips and surveyed her rival's helplessness with interest and delight. I was reminded at once of some of the legend of Sappho on the fair isle of Lesbos and I couldn't help noticing how superbly the skin colors blended. The skin of Mrs. Redfern was a ruddy pink-white, the shoulders and
