Erotic Classics II

by Various Authors

  Oh! he was quicker at taking off my clothes than my experience in the Summer House at home would have made me believe possible. In a brace of shakes he had me naked, all but my chemise, stockings and boots. I thought he would leave me my chemise, but you will see. Taking off my boots and stockings, he made me sit down on a chair, and his naughty hands kept on pushing up my chemise, to be out of his way, higher up my thighs than was at all required, and somehow my mound would come (as he said) in his way. It was lovely! He tickled me so, he made me laugh—he excited me so, that to pay him out I put my now naked foot between his thighs. At once he took it, and put the sole of it on to his beautiful stiff weapon and a thrill like electricity shot all through me. My touch made him hurry up too. Both stockings were off now, and I was going to rise off the chair, when he pushed me back and said he must see my shoulders and bosoms and bubbies bare! In a moment he had my chemise off my shoulders, so it lay round my middle, all above that was perfectly naked. With a cry of delight he fell with his mouth on my bosom, kissing, biting, nibbling, whilst he pressed between my thighs and stroked them beneath my chemise with his hands. Then, suddenly rising, he caught me in his arms, pulled me straight up, and my chemise falling to the floor, he lifted me up, kicked it away, and put me down in front of him as naked as I was born.

  “Oh! Charlie!” I exclaimed, “how could you! Let me have my chemise!” and I put my hands, naturally, over my motte, for I felt shame glowing all over me, to be so dreadfully naked in the presence of a man!

  “Oh! my lovely, my beautiful Lizzie! I cannot let you cover up that lovely form and those exquisite charms! Look girl! Here! Come look at yourself in this glass, and say did you ever see anything prettier in your life!”

  And he half pushed, half carried me, a most unwilling victim at that moment, before the high cheval glass in the wardrobe, of which I have spoken.

  Oh! I can hardly tell you what an impression my own reflection made on me! The moment before I felt as if I were crimson all over, from shame at being completely naked in the presence of Charlie, but now I was so struck with what I saw before me, that all feelings of shame vanished, and were replaced by a flood of pleasure. I had never seen myself, as a whole, naked in the glass, for I had no such mirror in my own little bedroom at home, and it never struck me to strip myself and see what I was like, when clothed in nothing but my naked charms, by the assistance of the cheval glass in mother’s trying-on room. Besides all the surroundings were in favor of my seeing myself to the highest advantage now. The wallpaper of the room was dark, and reflected light badly, so that my figure in the mirror stood out against a dark background and showed up with dazzling whiteness. I could not but admire myself. Mother had often said I was a well-made girl, but she never expatiated much on my figure or my charms. Here I had them all before me, and I was amazed and delighted at the revelation! You, Charlie, have seen me naked, and know what I am like now. Well! I was nearly as rounded in form and full in figure, and shape of my limbs as now. What perhaps struck me first, most of all, was what a nice unblemished skin I had. Next, how lovely my shoulders and bosoms were, how slender my waist, and how beautifully my hips gradually expanded until they were wider than my chest. My pretty little bubbies, well separated, each looking a little away from the other, each perfectly round where it sprang from my bosom, and both tapering in lovely curves until they came to two rosebud-points, next caught my delighted eyes. I had never seen them look so lovely as they did now, as they gleamed and shone, apparently whiter than the body from which they grew, as the light flashed upon them. My belly, smooth, broad and dimpled in the centre with a sweet little navel, like a perfect plain of snow which appeared the more dazzling from the thick growth of hair which curled in dark rich brown locks on the triangle of my moue, gradually growing thinner and less close as it tapered to that point which receding between my rounded thighs, divided at the spot where my pretty, demure little slit commenced to form. I could not see the whole of my grotto, when I stood upright, for it turned in between my thighs too quickly, so to say, as if it felt that it should hide itself until love demanded it to be displayed by the action of opening my legs. My thighs, knees, legs, ankles and feet next came in for their share of inspection, and by the time I had looked myself over from head to feet, I came to the conclusion that Charlie was right, and that a lover should be permitted to gaze with enraptured eyes on charms of no common class of beauty. Don’t think me vain, but I have been too often told that I am beautiful to believe that every man who has seen me naked is and has been a liar.

  Well, whilst I was thus intoxicating myself with my own reflection Charlie was not idle. He had completely stripped himself, and came eagerly up, as naked as myself. He put his arm round my neck, and stood beside me, adding his masculine beauty to the picture I saw in the glass before me.

  “Now Lizzie! is not that a perfect picture? Don’t we make a real handsome couple?”

  I could only respond by putting my arms around his waist and pressing him to my side. His warm body sent a thrill through me, as I felt it in this delicious close contact, and I saw a little ruby and shining point suddenly protrude between the upper lips of my excitable little mound. Oh! Charlie looked splendid! I took my eyes off myself to gaze at him in wonder and admiration. He looked so powerful, yet so lithe. His shoulders were as broad as mine were narrow, and his hips as narrow as mine were broad. His deep and manly chest contrasted with my more graceful but completely feminine bosom. His arms, long and muscular, seemed perfect models in marble, and every movement on his part showed the firm muscles move under the skin beneath which there was little of that soft fat or flesh which made my limbs and body so pliant and smooth. But naturally, it was his long, stiff, straight, grand-looking tool and the big rough bunch, which formed his handsome jewels underneath, in their velvety wrinkled bag, which chiefly attracted my burning eyes, for there it was, that truly stalwart staff, pointing up at my face! It seemed a formidable weapon indeed, so strong, so conquering, so irresistible. Its head, of a more or less rosy color with a suspicion of violet at the edges, was half uncovered, and its almost impudent look amused me, as it seemed to scan me with its slit-like little eye on its top. I could see that this splendid weapon grew broader and thicker at its base, where it sprang from a forest of hair which clothed my lover’s moue, and slightly tapered until it reached its head, where it suddenly widened in again to taper quickly off to a rounded blunt point, here its “eye” was. Charlie took my hands and when he put one on his sack, and the other on his manhood, and he made me feel and press them for a moment. I almost fainted with the thrilling emotion this feeling of him sent through me, and clasping me to him, he pressed me against himself, so that his mighty spear-like weapon was closed in between his belly and mine. I could feel its point high above my navel, and I remember wondering whether supposing he could get it in I should feel it up inside me as far as that! At the same time I felt certain that to get so huge a volume as that into my tight and small cranny would be impossible. I was convinced of that.

  After a few more thrilling caresses on the part of each of us Charlie said, “Now Lizzie!” lifted me up in his great strong arms, and carrying me like a baby to the other side of the bed, he laid me down on my back, pulling the sheets down. Oh! I was inclined to have him! My whole body panted for him! My bubbies seemed to be swelling as if they would burst and the little red nipples on them were as hard as peas and tickling me! As for my sheath, it was raging! Such a throbbing as went on in it I had never felt before, not even when he had half had me at Canterbury. I expected him between my thighs, which I opened for him, but instead of taking his own place there at once, my irritating lover commenced kissing me on the mouth, cheeks, eyes, ears, throat and all of that part, whilst his hand wandered over my bosoms from bubbie to bubbie, which he tenderly felt and pressed. He did not seem to be in half the hurry I was. If his intentions were to drive me half frantic with desire, to raise up all that was lascivious in my s
enses, he certainly succeeded to perfection! But really he was right. I always think a good preliminary engagement of hands and lips makes a poke much more delicious than when one comes to close quarters without any at all. Charlie’s lips descended from my lips to my bosom. He laid his head between my breasts, and turning it from side to side kissed either bubbie as his lips encountered its warm, rounded sides, and whilst so doing his naughty hand crept, crept, crept over my belly, down my groin, down my thighs, up again, all round my motte, then skimmed my bush with finger tips, then just touched, but no more, the line of my sweet tunnel until I could hardly endure the almost agonizing pleasure he caused me! Then suddenly he took a firm bite of one breast, and in went his strong finger, right up to the knuckle, with a bang against me, and this he repeated, biting, but not hurting, my other bubbie, and then with repeated kisses his mouth rove over my belly, down the groin, down one thigh, up the other, just like his finger had done, until suddenly he brought it up right to my quivering spot, which he almost burnt with his kisses! I could feel his tongue darting at my agitated, excited lips, and at last, unable to bear it any longer, I almost screamed to him to leave off that, and give me what I craved for. He turned a dreamy look at me, when he suddenly seemed to wake up, as it were.

  “Oh! I nearly forgot!” said he as he ran to the mantelpiece and brought from it what looked like a pot of pomatum.

  “This is cold cream, my Lizzie! As you have never had all me inside you yet, and your delicious little cave is as tight as can be, some of this will help us both! Hold the pot darling, and let me anoint your sheath, Queen of my sword!”

  He took fingerful after fingerful of the cream, and put so much of its cool substance inside me I thought he meant me to have it all. It was so sweet and cool and pleasant, I liked it for its own sake, as much as for the sake of feeling his finger push it as far in as it could.

  “Now,” said he, “anoint my King of your sweetest sheath, my Lizzie!” and he turned that awful mad looking weapon towards me. I took it, close to the root, by my left hand, and with my right I anointed its head as I stroked the cream down, its hood slipped right off, and gathered behind its spreading shoulders, and here Charlie made me put a great lot of it. Then with both hands I, by his directions, put all that remained in the pot on his shaft, until it shone as though dipped in oil! Oh! the feeling of that organ! I am sure you remember the excitement you must have felt the first time you had a good free and complete “feel” of a girl, Charlie? Well! think of what I experienced, for this grand rod, those glorious eggs, all mine, to press and caress in perfect freedom for the first time.

  Charlie made me wipe my hands on his curly hair and then, with a triumphant, “Now Lizzie, open your thighs! Now for heaven and bliss and all that is delicious,” he pushed me on to my back, and was between my willingly opened arms and thighs before I could wink! He made me introduce himself into my cunnie, then he put one hand under my head, and the other under my hips and with a slight pressure forced, or rather easily slid his weapon in as far as it had ever gone before. At first, as if careful not to raise any doubts in my mind, he contented himself with toying in and out, as he had done at Canterbury, giving me delicious pleasure, but suddenly he gave a thrust which stopped my breath, and he kept up such a fearful pressure that it began to hurt me not a little, but a good deal, I can tell you.

  “Oh! Charlie!” I cried out, “Don’t darling, you are hurting me dreadfully.”

  He said nothing, but gave me a kiss; then laid his cheek to mine, and gathered me more firmly than ever in his arms, and again seemed to violently burst away into my inside!

  I almost screamed, but Charlie would not listen to my entreaties! Again and again did he batter, and at last, with a sickening sensation of rending and tearing, I felt that the obstacle, whatever it was, had gone before his dreadful poke, and that each stroke, each thrust, was carrying it deeper and deeper into my inside! I really feared he had burst my poor little nook, and that I should die in consequence; but, before I could express myself in words, I felt that every atom of that awful machine was buried in me, for I could feel Charlie’s sack against me distinctly, and as for our bellies, they were completely pressed together, as well as our mottes! Then Charlie relaxed that tremendous grip on me, and raising his face looked eagerly into mine, and smiled and kissed me and said, “Ah! Lizzie darling! I hope I don’t hurt you very much! You had such a dreadfully tough little maidenhead, and your little cave is a tight one—so much the better! for you will have the more pleasure! Do I hurt you now darling?” and he kissed me tenderly.

  “Not now! but oh, Charlie! you don’t know how much you did hurt me! I hope you have not done me any harm!”

  “Not a bit,” said he laughing. “I am glad it does not hurt you! But now for pleasure, my Lizzie! You lie quite still and let me play with you quietly and you will see whether you won’t forget any pain I gave you.”

  Then commenced those splendid, exciting, thrilling, long strokes. Even that very first time I felt great pleasure from them, and afterwards when all soreness had completely disappeared, I remember, as it were plunging into the new world! My cranny was like a violin, and Charlie’s instrument like the bow, and every stroke raised the most ravishing melody on the senses that could be experienced or imagined! Oh! I am sure he was right when he said that never was there a girl so plainly brought into the world for poking and poking only, as myself! I adore it! I can’t live without it! And at times I cannot imagine how any man or woman can pass a day without having it at least once or twice.

  That was how I lost my maidenhead before I knew I had one! Ah! That week at Dover will always be remembered by me as the most exquisite in my life. Charlie was never done! He was so kind too! He took me out for long drives—showed me the castle—took me out boating; laid perfect fairy plans for our future. I was to be his own pet love! I was to live in a sweet little house in London, to have my carriage and servants and all that I could want, and I should be his darling mistress, almost his wife. Not once did I remember my poor mother, or my duty to her as a child. I declare it seems most terribly selfish—but oh! I was ravished with my lover, and the whole world seemed centered in him! And yet when the test of that burning love came to be applied, you will see how it stood.

  Yes! Yes! It was an exquisite dream! Such a dream as I have often wished to have again but never in my happiest moments since have been able to approach!

  Well, it was all settled. Charlie’s leave would be up now that our six-days honeymoon was spent. We were to have one more blissful night in one another’s arms, and oh! how I had learned to love being well poked! How I had come to appreciate its ravishing joys, its indescribable delights! We were, I say, to have one more night at Dover, and then Charlie was to take me to London, leave me in a hotel for a day, get more leave, and come and hunt up a nice little house for me, etc., etc., as he had planned, and I was to be his kept mistress. The idea of returning to Canterbury to my mother had completely faded from my mind. From her arms I had been snatched away to quite another, and perfectly different life, and like the brilliant fly, I could no longer think of resuming my life as a grub. The thing was impossible, so impossible that I never gave it a single thought.

  But, ah! there are a good many “buts” in the world, which like stones in the road are apt to upset the steadiest and most courageous—but, the last evening of our stay in the Ship Hotel, a note was brought to me, just as I was going to take off my things. Charlie and I had been for a long drive over to the camp at Shorncliffe. A glance at the writing showed me it was from my mother! I dropped on to a chair and Charlie, seeing me look as if I should faint, ran up in alarm.

  “What is it, my darling? Who is this from?”

  “Oh! Charlie,” I ejaculated, “it is from my mother!”

  “The devil! What does she want? What business is it of hers, I should like to know, to come interfering?” cried poor Charlie, who forgot that she
had every possible business to do so.

  “What does she say?” he went on impatiently, for I had not the courage to open the note but held it in my shaking hand. “Here, girl! give it to me! Let me see what the old—h’m—old lady says.”

  “Lizzie, your mother is on the pier and asks you to come out for a moment to see her, or she will come in and see you here! You had better go, darling! It would not do to have her kick up a row in here. Will you go with her if she asks you, Lizzie? Tell me! God damn and blast it all! What an unfortunate thing! Lizzie, Lizzie! You must not leave me! I can’t live without you! I must have you! Do you hear?”

  I was drowned in tears and my bosom was torn with sobs. I loved Charlie! Oh! I did! What girl would not love a lover who had adored, worshipped and poked her as Charlie had me? But on the other hand I loved my mother too. How dearly I did not know until now. The two affections, the old and the new, wrestled within me. I was at the parting of the ways, and if it had been possible I would have liked to have walked on each of the roads.

  “Oh! Charlie!” I cried, as I threw myself in his arms, “I cannot say! I cannot say! Perhaps mother will tell me that after what I have done she won’t have me home again!”

  “And then!” cried poor Charlie eagerly. “And then of course, I would come with you, Charlie.”

  “That means if your mother—confound her!—says come home, Lizzie, you will leave me?”