breasts of her protegee were the color of honey swimming below an untidy tress of raven-black hair, while Winnie, standing slim and independent, was all over a smooth creamy-white.
“Wait a moment,” said Mrs. Redfern suddenly, “I'm going to light a joss stick!” She searched for her handbag, found it, stirred up the contents with her hand and produced a small green box from which she took an incense stick the color of dung and the shape of a stub of pencil. This she stood upright in an ash tray, and she set light to it. Soon a long feather-like plume of sweet smoke rose upward from the glowing tip. The two girls, captivated by it, attempted, by beating their hands in the air, to direct the smoke against their skin.
“It's nice to smell, not to touch,” Mrs. Redfern said dryly.
It was at that moment that Winnie suggested a game of leapfrog. Immediately upon saying it, she bent downward and exhibited one of the most pretty bottoms it has ever been my good fortune to see, lobes as smooth and as compact as large melons gathered prettily about her little rosebud beneath which a wisp of her silky hairs peeped like a goat's beard.
May went first, skipping forward on her bare feet across the carpet and then upward as she cleared the obstacle successfully. She landed about a yard clear, ran forward two steps, and stooped into position herself. Mrs. Redfern went next, clearing both obstacles in spite of her plumpness, without apparent effort. I hesitated long enough only to allow her to settle in position and then hopped twice to pass with my legs astride the girls and take up a position from where I could run to make a leap clear across the fleshy posterior of Mrs. Redfern. SomethingI do not know what until this daymade me hesitate. I found myself making the approach-run too slowly and before I realized what had happened I felt my ramrod fit softly against the warm split in Mrs. Redfern's buttocks. Of course, she thought that my action was intentional and so she raised herself on tiptoes, thrusting out with her warm pulpy buttocks at the same time, so that my cock, distended from so much anticipation, ran sure as a plummet between the thickly-haired flanges of her pussy and did not meet any resistance until it was sunk to the hilt in one of the warmest and juiciest sheaths imaginable. As soon as she felt the meeting of my belly tight against her buttocks, she seemed to knit her lower torso into a knotan amorous clasp I don't doubt she had from a great deal of experienceand I discovered at once that I was stuck fast and firm without the slightest possibility of escape.
At that moment I heard the laughter of the girls. Then Winnie cried: “Go on, dear, give it to her! If I were a man, I would!” Fuck her! We want to see your cock plunging in and out of her.”
Indeed I had little choice. I grasped her by her thick white waist and with short, jabbing strokes began to drill her. She arched up to meet me at each plunge of my cock and fairly threatened to break my poor staff in two with her gyrations and contortions. Her insistent cunt worked me like a stud horse and sucked the sperm from me within moments. I had never experienced anything like itand I'm not sure I'd care to again, so frenzied and enervating was the experience.
I withdrew almost at once. Mrs. Redfern straightened up with a laugh.
“There's life in an old dog yet!” she said gaily. “I hope, Mr. Harris, I won't have to wait so long for your next favor.”
With some misgivings, but as gently as possible, I assured her that she would not have to wait long, that I should certainly not wait until I had been invited.
“I've only known one other man who loved it as much as you do, sir,” she cried, “and that was my late husband. He was tarred with the same black brush!”
“Black indeed!” I cried. “Why black?”
“Oh, Mr. Harris, you're terrible!” said the pretty and ecstatic Mrs. Redfern. She meant it. Truly it is only the bohemian who can be free, not the proletarian. Poor Mrs. Redfern, in spite of the delight which she took in all amorous affairs, was unable to scale off that irritating and essentially ignorant sense of Original Sin. The girls, thank God, were not thus tainted. They enjoyed the whole affair immensely as was obvious from their merry giggles and happy faces, both at the time and afterward.
Our session ended late. Winnie had to hurry so as not to arrive too late for the evening meal at her parents' house. Shortly afterward, Mrs. Redfern left with her pretty May.
When they had gone and I had a moment to relax after my endeavors, it occurred to me that there must have been one time in history, pre-history perhaps, when the full possibilities of a game like leapfrog were not only understood but exploited. The game was certainly known to the Greeks. To what end they played it, apart from its being a species of physical exercise, is unhappily nowhere recorded. Even were it a fact, as some recent historians assert, that the Greek youth indulged in the practice of homosexuality, I would not wish the truth buried in the remote past from which it can never rise up and be good ground for caution in our attitudes, self-control in our behavior, and wisdom in our judgment. The Truth, I have always believed, was never so detrimental to human affairs as was falsity; it should be remembered that if we had all truth, we should be possessed of all understanding. I felt that I had nothing to reproach myself with for the afternoon's pleasures; obviously, we had come together because each of us in his or her heart desired that it should be so. Would it have any effect on the future? Human love is in many ways delicate. Had I transgressed against the inviolable laws of subtlety? I didn't think so and I proved to be right, for the gambol destroyed neither the intimacy between Winnie and me, nor that between myself and dear May. Not a bit of it!
A week later, Mrs. Redfern was all aflame with a new project. The woman was indefatigable in her pursuit of the god Eros. Again, in reference to that lady, I must admit I sensed the taint of an ulterior motive, but I didn't blame her. Everybody is naturally eager to earn all the money he can get. Why then should I have blamed the poor woman? She made a great to-do of something she hoped to bring that would astonish me.
“It's only to be had in the best houses,” she declared.
“What is it?” I wanted to know.
“They call it the hedge-hog,” she replied, “but that tells you nothing. If I can get it for you, you will have to admit that India has taught you one thing worth knowing.”
A few days later she drew out the object she'd named and showed it to me; it was a silver ring with a number of very fine tiny feathers brought in all around it. The ring was not closed, and Mrs. Redfern slipped it over my thumb and said:
“There! If you use that you will make all the girls crazy for you.”
“Really,” I exclaimed, “you mean if I put it on it will give them more pleasure?”
“Try it!” she returned. “Don't tell them, but try and you will soon see that I've made you a wonder worker.”
“All right,” I said, “I'm much obliged to you, and if you turn out to be a good prophet, I'll be liberal with my rewards.”
“I'm sure you will,” she smiled, “but if you would try it the second time instead of the first, I'd feel even surer.”
“Why the second time?” I asked.
“You know perfectly well,” she exclaimed laughing. “You know that nine girls out of ten feel more the second time than they do the first, and if you use my tickler when they are already thrilling, you will have wonderful results. You wait and see!”
“I'll try it this very evening,” I said, “and tomorrow I shall let you know all about it.”
“All right,” she replied, “that will suit me. Meantime, I'm after another instrument that will surprise you still more and make every girl crazy for you.”
“Thanks to you, I laughed, “I think I shall indeed learn something memorable from India.”
“The greatest country in the world,” she said solemnly, “for love-tools, or foods, or excitants; they know more here about sex sensations and how to vivify and intensify them than anywhere else. Try my tickler and you'll see.”
That evening Winnie came to spend a couple of hours with me. At first she seemed less passionate than usualI inserted my fingers, then my cock into her pussy, to little availbut after half an hour or so of love's dalliance, when I thought she had reached the height of feeling, I slipped the ring onto my shaft and penetrated her once again.
In a moment I knew that Mrs. Redfern was justified. Almost at once Winnie spread her thighs feverishly and soon, for the first time, began to move her body uncontrollably and utter strange sounds, now whimpering, now gasping: “Oh! I can't stand it. Oh! Stop, please, or I shall go mad. Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Of course, I didn't stop. Her cries and pleas raised my level of excitation until I pistoned into her uncontrollably. All thought was driven from my head except for the overwhelming need to bury my enormous
