"Your sister!" What a revelation! the likeness to Camille. I wondered it
had not struck me more completely before, the hesitation of Camille to
let me get the girl, her wish that she had never fetched her, her half
intention to send her home, the oath she made me take not to disclose
my having seen Louise's cunt when she was insensible: all struck me at
once.
Louise jumped off the bed in a fright, "No, no, no," she said, "not
my sister, my mistress; did I say sister? I didn't mean it, it's my
mistress, don't say I said sister."
I was certain she had spoken the truth: the likeness, Camille's anger
when I suggested making Louise drunk, her desire to be out of the house
when her virginity was taken, and other things crowded on my mind. "Deny
it as you like, ma chere, but you _are_ her sister, the very image of
her."
"Don't say so." I swore I would never tell. "She will murder me if she
knows. She is a demon, you don't know her,--mon Dieu! mon Dieu! what
shall I do? I must run away."
I calmed her, told her no one need know, I would never tell. She
believed me, seemed comforted, but still kept assuring me she had made a
mistake: she meant to say mistress.
This was a funny episode, a funny conversation between a woman carrying
her first male spunk in a bloody cunt, and a man with a cock still
dripping with cunt-juices on to his shirt, sitting by her side.
We talked by the side of the bed; then for a minute she put her head on
my shoulder and cried; it was over-excitement, nothing else, no regret.
Was I going? My reply was to put on my nightgown, say I meant to sleep
all night with her; I showed her my shirt, dabbed with bloody semen, and
gloried in it, told her her chemise was in the same state. She begged
me to leave her, and pushed me into the sitting-room, wiped her bloody
quim, and changed her things. She could not find Camille's night-gowns,
her own were dirty, so she put on one of Camille's beautiful chemises,
and over it the white robe. What a difference that entry of my prick
had made: twelve hours before, a refusal to let me put on a garter, a
struggle, a fight to do it; now my hand rested tranquilly on the smooth
thighs, whilst she listened to the pleasures I meant to have with her.
I drew her towards the bedroom, pulled off her boots and stockings, her
robe, then her chemise, and she got into bed naked, and I with her. It
was a hot night, cuddling was close work; lying by her side, my mouth to
hers, my belly to hers, my doodle pressed close into her thighs, my
hand on her bum, our legs touching their whole length, I was talking of
fucking, and she listening lewdly. What a difference! I guided her hand
to my prick; oh! my delight in that, and hers! how quietly it laid where
I placed it.--then under my balls, her hand was quite full of them, and
there it lay, then again round my pego. Again it was beginning to swell,
she lay with her long black hair floating on the pillow, her eyes closed
in baudy reverie. "You have got my prick in your hand, it has been in
your cunt and spent in it." She moved her head close to mine and kissed,
my cock stood stiff at once.
I closed to her, feeling every part of her body, excepting that which
I had just injured. That came in now for its share: thrusting one knee
between her legs I lifted hers so as to leave room for my hand between
them. She prayed me not, she was sore, ill, it hurt her. Hurt her? I
longed to hurt her, knew I was going to give her pain whilst I lied
saying that no pain more would she feel, and then with a little gentle
force, my finger slipping over her clitoris, I felt the cunt-hole
gently, went up it, she wincing and moving her bum in an inciting
manner, then up her orifice went my cock again, amidst murmurs and
prayers to leave her alone, a glorious fuck.
Then I dozed, dropping off on one side from her sweet firm body; but
excitement would not let me sleep, I kept awaking as fast as I fell
asleep, a burning heat pervaded my penis, my mind dwelt on the day's
work, her limbs were close to mine, cunt in reach of my fingers, smell
of her body in my nostrils. The lights were out, she was slumbering with
quiet regular breath. Up came my prick again, my fingers slid between
the cunt-lips, felt the signs of my last pleasure, she awakened. "Oh!
don't." She was ill, sore, very sore, I was unkind; but what woman can
refuse the cock which has just wetted her. Now was a prolonged fuck;
then overcome with fucking, worn with excitement, I fell sound asleep.
*********
Please support me on my ko-fi account by donating at,
https://ko-fi.com/aayume
I really appreciate your donations.
Thank You.
Or, You can buy the whole book at,
https://ko-fi.com/aayume/shop