Frank and I

Volume Three
XVI

I will now pass over a space of three years. Frances was twenty-four years of age, and I was nearly forty. During the time that had passed, we had got on very well together; and I never again had had to find fault with her for any lightness of conduct; though she was much admired wherever we went, and she always had men dangling after her in the various hotels we stayed at when we were on the Continent. However, as she never permitted her admirers to become familiar, I did not mind her amusing herself by flirting a little. Brooke, we had never seen again.

Though Frances had never been unfaithful to me, I must confess that I had been occasionally unfaithful to her; simply out of desire for a change. But I never once had come across a woman who had a better figure, or who was a more delicious poke, than my sweetheart.

I had not constantly lived with her, but had spent part of my rime at Oakhurst; also going once a year to Scotland. And I had always taken her to some seaside place for a month in the summer, and had also taken her abroad part of every winter. We had visited Spain, and Algiers; and one year I had taken her for a six weeks cruise up the Mediterranean in one of the yachting steamers.

I had never again birched her, though I had occasionally given her a sound spanking; which she had invariably taken without making any fuss, other than the little squeals of pain she uttered, and the tears she shed while smarting under the operation. We were still fond of each other in a placid son of way, like old married people; and we both enjoyed our nights when we were together.

I had, however, latterly often caught myself wondering how it was all going to end: for I had an idea that sooner or later, I should find the connection irksome, and want to put an end to it. So, in view of that contingency, I had invested a sum of money in Frances’ name. in various safe shares and securities which were paying well; therefore in the event of our parting company, she would have a very fair income. After all, it was the least I could do for the woman whom I had seduced, and who had always been faithful to me.

I never said a word to Frances about the money I had set aside for her; and she appeared to be perfectly happy in her little house whenever I was with her; and when I was away she always wrote to me in good spirits.

But to resume the thread of my story. It was the end of November and I had just arrived at King’s Cross station, after an absence of two months, which had been spent at various country houses; and during the time I had been away, I had never seen Frances, nor had I once poked a woman; consequently I was eagerly looking forward to the moment when I should hold my pretty sweetheart in my arms.

I reached the villa about five o’clock, and was received in a most affectionate manner by Frances, who was looking very lovely in a pretty frock of some soft, dark material, cut square at the neck, showing the upper part of her white bosom. We sat down cosily beside the fire, in the well-lit, prettily furnished little drawing-room, and while Frances busied herself making the tea, I told her all about the various people with whom I had been staying. She poured out a cup of tea and brought it to me, standing behind my chair while I sipped the refreshing beverage, and every now and then bending over to give me a kiss.

Finally she perched herself upon my knees; then, as a matter of course my hand found its way up her clothes, and toyed with the silky hair of the “spot,”-she had on no drawers, — while her hand unbuttoned my trousers and let out my tool, which was in a very rampant state, after its two months rest. She gently, with her forefinger and thumb, covered and uncovered the red tip several times; saying, with a laugh: “I wonder if it has been a good boy while it has been away?”

“Yes, it has,” I remarked, smiling. “Don’t you see how stiff k is?”

“Oh, that proves nothing! It is very easily made stiff; but anyway I am going to take the stiffness out of it now.”

So saying, she got off my knees, and turned her back towards me; then she deliberately raised all her dainty skirts above her waist, and stood for a moment, so that I might see and admire her beautiful white bottom and plump thighs. Then backing close up to me, she put her hand between her legs, and seizing my member, she guided it to the right spot, then gradually lowering herself down, she took my prick inch by inch into her tight cunt, till her bottom touched my balls, and she sat on my lap, with her back resting against my chest. Putting my arms round her waist under her petticoats, I clasped my hands on her cool soft belly, and began to poke her vigorously, by moving my loins up and down. My movements were ably seconded by Frances, who raised and lowered her bottom in a most voluptuous way; so that in a very few seconds, I “spent” with a prolonged quiver of sexual excitement, depositing a copious offering in the “grotto of love.”

When all was over, we retired to our bedroom and had a wash; then we went down to dinner; which Frances had taken care should be a nice one. We had some clear soup; turbot with lobster sauce; a brace of roast grouse, and a souffl6; and we drank sherry and champagne. We also had dessert, with coffee and liqueurs. Then, after I had smoked a cigar, we went into the drawing-room. It had, however, struck me all through dinner, that Frances, though lively and in good spirits, had not been quite so talkative as usual I settled down in an easy-chair to read the evening paper, while she took up a book; but I noticed that she did not seem to be much interested in what she was reading; and every now and then she glanced at me with a troubled expression on her face. I could see she was bothered about something, and I wondered what it was. A few minutes passed; then she put down her book, and coming to me, sat down in her old way upon a stool at my feet, resting her arm upon my knees, and looking up in my face. “Charley,” she said, in a serious tone of voice, “I have something very particular to say to you.”

I was rather surprised at her grave manner, which was quite unusual with her. “Well, what is it?” I lightly asked; expecting to be told that she had run into debt with her dressmaker, or something of that sort.

But the communication she made to me, had reference to a matter of far greater importance than a milliner’s bill.

She began: “You know I am very grateful to you for all your kindness to me since the day you took me into your house: and we have always got on well together. I love you still, and I think you are still a little fond of me; but I have often thought that some day you may get married;-though you will never find a woman who will love you more than I have.

“Or you may take it into your head to leave me, for some reason or other; and then what would become of me?”

“Oh, my dear girl,” I said, bending down and giving her a kiss, “if either of the events you have mentioned should happen, your future would be all right. I have taken care that you shall never want. But why have you told me all this? I shall never marry; and I don’t wish to leave you.”

She gave me a grateful kiss, saying: “Ah, you may not wish to leave me just at present, but I am afraid you will get tired of me in course of time. I am young now; and you say I am pretty. But I shall not be always so.”

I felt there was a good deal of truth in what she had said; so I made no remark; and she went on, hurriedly: “Now, what I have to tell you will astonish, and perhaps make you angry; but I feel that I ought no longer to keep you in ignorance of certain things which have happened to me during your absence.”

She paused for a moment, and I wondered what was coming. She went on: “About six weeks ago, I was sitting reading in a lovely part of the park, when a rough-looking tramp came up, and begged me to give him a copper to buy a bit of bread, as he was starving. I gave him sixpence out of my purse which happened to be full of silver. He noticed it, and when I had put the purse back into my pocket, he caught hold of me roughly and tried to rob me. I struggled, and screamed loudly; and my cries were heard by a gentleman, who came running to my assistance, and drove the tramp away. My arms were bruised, I was very much frightened, and I was trembling all over: so the gentleman made me take his arm, and when we had got out of the park, he put me in a cab, and drove me home.”

I made a movement of anger, uttering the word: “Damnation!”

She placed her hand on mine, saying soothingly: “Now Charley! You needn’t get angry. There was no wrong done. Wait till you have heard the rest of my story.”

“Go on,” I said crossly.

“Next day he called upon, me; and I gave him a cup of tea, and we had a long chat. Since then he has called several times, and I have frequently met him in the park. He is a gentleman, and has always treated me with the utmost respect. He has told me that he loves me; and to-day he asked me to marry him.”

I was utterly taken aback, and inclined to be very angry. “The devil he did!” I exclaimed. “Who is he? Tell me all you know about him. Do you love him? Perhaps he is only trying to deceive you.”

“I don’t think he is,” she remarked. Then she continued: “His name is Markham; he is about forty-five years old; a widower, with two children; a boy six years of age, and a girl nine years of age; he is a merchant at the Cape, and he is very well-off. I like him, but I do not love him.”

I was silent for a short time, thinking over her startling communication. Then I said: “Do you wish to leave me, and marry him?”

“I will be guided in the matter entirely by your advice and wishes. If you want me to stay with you; I will do so: but if you think I ought to accept Mr. Markham, I will marry him. Now think well over what I have said; and then tell me what you wish me to do.”‘

I pondered deeply over what she had told me; and I finally came to the conclusion, that though I did not at that moment wish to part with Frances; yet it would be wrong for me to stand in her way and prevent her getting married. She would never get such an offer again; and if the man was rich, and a gentleman, the marriage would be a good thing for her, and also for me; as I should be relieved of all responsibility as to her future.

So, giving her a kiss, I said: “Well, my dear girl, I shall be extremely sorry to part with you; but under the circumstances, I think you had better accept Mr. Markham. I will make inquiries about him, and find out if he is what he represents himself to be. But make sore of your own mind before you definitely accept him.”

She sat down on a chair, and resting her chin on her hand, fell into deep thought. But I fancied I could guess what she would do. She would accept the man’s offer. Every woman likes to get married and have a home, which she knows she cannot be turned out of-as long as she behaves herself-even should her husband get tired of her.

After a few moments, she said: “I can’t quite make up my mind yet; but I will think well over the matter to-night I am to see him, and give him my answer to-morrow.”

There was nothing more to be said, at that moment, on the subject; and we both sat silent and thoughtful: we felt upset, and we could not settle down comfortably; so we soon went up to our bedroom.

But when we were between the sheets, with our bodies in close contact, and our legs twined round each other’s; our thoughts quickly turned in a lascivious direction, and we had two delicious pokes before going to sleep.

Next morning, after breakfast. I asked her if she had quite made up her mind what to do. “Yes,” she replied, huskily, “I have decided to marry Mr. Markham.” Then coming up to me, she threw her arms round me and strained me to her bosom in a passionate embrace, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, Charley!” she sobbed out “It will be an awful wrench parting with you. Oh, dear me! Oh, dear me!” Then she added, trying to smile: “But perhaps it will be better for me to leave you before I get old and ugly; and you tire of me.”

I had felt sure that she would make up her mind to marry the man, but nevertheless my heart was heavy at knowing that I should soon lose my pretty sweetheart, with whom I had spent so many happy years. However, I consoled myself by thinking, that as she was leaving me of her own accord, I should never have to reproach myself for sending her away-and that was an event which most probably would have happened some day or other. At eleven o’clock she went out to meet Markham; while I stayed at home to write some letters.

She came back to lunch at the usual hour, and told me that the whole affair was settled, and the wedding day fixed; then she showed me the engaged ring her fiance had given her; but she did not appear to be at all elated at knowing she was soon going to be a “respectable married woman”; and during lunch she often looked wistfully at me. I spent the afternoon in the City, making inquiries about Markham; and I found out that he was a man with a good reputation; a diamond merchant at the Cape, and he was said to be wealthy.

I was glad to hear satisfactory accounts of the man; for I had been inclined to think that he was an impostor, who was merely trying to get hold of Frances.

When we met at dinner, she seemed to be in better spirits. I told her what I had heard about Markham; and she informed me that her marriage was to take place in a month’s time. Then we had a long talk about the whole affair, and I gave her some “fatherly” advice.

The time passed on. Frances met her lover every day, somewhere or other; and she began to buy such an extensive trousseau, that the villa was soon littered with trunks, bandboxes, and all sorts of feminine finery, although she already had a large wardrobe. As she was going to marry a rich man, I did not think I was now called upon to make any settlement upon her: but I insisted upon paying for her trousseau; though she did not wish me to do so. She said that Mr. Markham had supplied her with plenty of money for the purpose.

During this period she was more loving and affectionate to me than ever; the tears were often in her eyes, and she would sometimes sit holding my hand in hers, without speaking. At other times, when sitting beside me in the daytime, she would suddenly unbutton my trousers, take out my tool, and play with it till I poked her.

In fact, both by day and night, she seemed to want me to “have” her as often as possible before we parted.

At last, her outfit was completed; her trunks were packed, and the marriage was to take place in a week’s rime. The wedding was to be a quiet one, and she was to be married from a hotel, to which she was to go the day before the ceremony.

The week passed rapidly. On the morning of the day she was to go away she woke early, and very soon woke me. As I thought it was the last time we should be in bed together, I determined to spin out my pleasure as long as I possibly could.

After kissing her eyes, her peach-like cheeks, and her rosy, fragrant mouth, I threw off all the bedclothes, and took off my nightgown, making Frances do the same. There was a good fire in the room. Then I played with the lovely, naked woman in every imaginable way; rolling her over and over, placing her in all sorts of positions, feeling every part of her body, and biting the plump flesh in various places. I spanked her broad, white bottom gently rill a pink flush showed on the cheeks; I slapped her polished back and shoulders, her rounded thighs, and the calves of her legs; even her smooth, soft belly received a few slight slaps. When her flesh was glowing and tingling from head to foot, and we were both in a high state of excitement, I stretched out her legs, and pressing my mouth on the delicious, little pink lips of her golden-haired cunt, I thrust my tongue deeply into its warm recesses, and tickled the tiny sensitive button for a moment or two. Frances quivered all over, squirming, and writhing, and turning up her eyes in an ecstasy of voluptuous delight. I quickly withdrew my tongue, and she sat up, gazing at me; her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were sparkling, and her titties were rising and falling. “Oh-h-h!” she exclaimed, drawing a long breath. “How delicious that was! Your tongue felt like a bit of warm velvet. Oh, Charley! why did you never do it to me before?”

I laughed but did not answer, and she said: “I will do it to you now.”

Then she laid herself down between my legs, and for the first time in her life, she took my prick into her mouth, nibbling it gently with her teeth, tickling the tip with her velvety tongue, and drawing the foreskin backwards and forwards with her lips, till I was frantic with lust, and almost at the point of “spending.” Plucking my tool out of her mouth, I threw myself upon her, and our bodies seemed to become one, as we mutually clasped each other in a close embrace. My naked breast was on her naked, palpitating bosom, our bellies rubbed together, my mouth was pressed to her lips, my tongue was in her mouth, and my prick was in her cunt. Tightly grasping the cheeks of her bottom, while she threw her legs round my loins, I fucked her, in a delirium of passion, twice without withdrawing, making her groan, squeak, and wriggle her bottom furiously each time I discharged. And when it was all over, she lay in my arms almost fainting from excess of pleasure, her naked body quivering from head to foot. It had been a grand poke, and we had both enjoyed it to the uttermost.

We got up, had our baths, dressed, and went down to breakfast. But neither of us had much appetite; we felt depressed; and altogether the meal was a sorrowful one, though we both pretended to be in good spirits.

As soon as breakfast was over, Frances went away to get ready; and she came back in about half-an-hour, fully equipped, with her hat on. As usual, she was dressed in perfect taste, and she looked most charming. Presently a four-wheeled cab arrived at the gate of the villa, and then the trunks and bandboxes were carried out and placed on the top of the vehicle. The moment had come for us to part; and Frances clung round me, crying bitterly, and kissing me passionately.

I had a lump in my throat as I disengaged her arms from my neck. Then, after giving her a long lingering kiss, I led her out of the house and put her in the cab. She leant back in a corner, sobbing, with her handkerchief to her eyes-, and in another moment the cab was driven off, leaving me feeling rather miserable.

I spent the day at my club, and dined there, returning early to the villa; but when I got into the drawing-room, where everything reminded me much of my lost sweetheart, I felt so depressed that I left the house again, and went to a music hall, just to pass the time until it was late enough to go to bed.

Next morning, when I woke with my usual cockstand, I thought of the splendid poke I had had, twenty-four hours previously, and at that moment I would have given anything to have had Frances again in my arms.

She was married that day at two o’clock; but I did not go to see her “turned off.” The newly-wedded couple spent a month in Paris; and then embarked for the Cape. Frances wrote to me from Southampton the day the steamer sailed; and in her letter-which was a long one-she told me that her husband was good and kind; but that he never would be the same to her, as her first and only sweetheart Charley, whom she would never forget.

A few days afterwards, I put the villa Li the hands of a firm of auctioneers, telling them to sell the furniture; and then I went home to Oakhurst At first, I was a little restless, but after a time, I settled down to my old way of life.

During the first year of Frances’ marriage she wrote to me occasionally; then her letters ceased; and I thought I should never again either hear from, or see my old sweetheart. I fancied she had passed out of my life.