Pauline

CHAPTER I

My dear friend:

It gives me great pleasure to inform you that I have received your letter and am happy to know that you sometimes think of me. I am delighted, too, to know you are enjoying such splendid health. Really, my dear, I thought you had quite forgotten me after all these years, but I see you haven't, and I am glad. Yes, I am very happy and contented, and I have retired from professional life. I intend to devote the remainder of my days to travel and… well, you know my great weakness. It is strange that you should ask me to write my memoirs just when I was about to write them for myself, and now I believe I shall do so. And I hope you will enjoy reading these pages as fully as I have enjoyed them in the flesh. Well, where shall I start? At the very beginning, I suppose-all careers have a beginning somewhere, you know.

Up to and including my eighteenth birthday there is precious little to tell, so I shall skip over that; it has nothing to do with this tale and would-I dare-say-be rather tiresome.

I knew nothing of love, except, of course, the love one had from a parent, and the pets I had. So I can think of no one thing which might be called responsible for the strange and delightful life I have led. To sum up the whole thing, I guess I was born for love! How could it be otherwise when it has been the one ruling passion of my whole life? Love! Yes, that was it, and believe me, I have had my share.

There are very few things concerning my early life which I think would be of interest here. I was an only child. We lived in a pretty little home, and in my childish way I was happy. I never had to attend school like the other children. Father provided a private tutor, and an ugly old witch she was, too. She was very strict with me, and I can well remember how she used to scold me when I romped about the gardens with my pet poodle, telling me it was vulgar to show one's legs; nor could I visit with the other children who passed our home.

It was this very strictness as much as anything else, perhaps, which led my active mind into other and stranger channels.

I guess she was what we call today a “prude” and I believe she disliked herself. So you see, I was kept in close confinement, as it were.

But, with all her faults, she was a very learned person, and I have many, many times profited by her teachings.

Mother was very kind to me, and I always had the things I craved. Father earned a wonderful living for us; he was a skilled mechanic, inventing many optical items used to this day, and for which he received a great deal of money.

When I received a scolding from my teacher, I would run to Mother for soothing and kindness, to say nothing of her kisses. But she had implicit faith in my tutor, telling me I must mind her as she knew best.

I must tell you of a little incident concerning this strange woman. At the far end of the gardens there was a tiny lake, and one day I asked permission to wade in it. But my tutor was horrified! The very idea was scandalous!

I suppose I am no different than anyone else; had she allowed me this simple pleasure, I am sure nothing would have come of it, and what happened as a result of what I did wouldn't have happened at all. Having been deprived of the pleasure, I promised myself that, unknown to her, I would do that very thing!

The next afternoon I watched for my chance. On the pretense of taking my poodle for a walk, I slipped away and ran to the pond. It seems to be a human trait to lust for that which is denied us. Whether that is true or not I do not know; I do know, however, that I yearned for that pond as I had never yearned for anything else in my life.

The poodle, nearing the pond and thinking it quite natural, ran into the water. Standing there watching him splash about made me all the more eager to partake of this pleasure, and the more I watched him the greater the longing became.

It's a strange thing that such a simple thing can lay the groundwork for one's whole career, isn't it? Yet, such was the case. Had I been allowed to wade at the time I asked my tutor, everything would have passed as before; now, standing there knowing I was contemplating something forbidden made the desire all the more pronounced!

I had never been in the water, and as I stood there contemplating the pleasure my poodle was having, I was taken with the idea that I, too, would like to splash about in it.

Making sure no one was about, I stripped off my slippers and stockings, and holding up my already short skirt, I waded in. The water felt delightful on my feet and ankles, and for minutes I stood there. I wanted to go in deeper, but, as I have said, I had never been in such a large body of water and the thought frightened me.

The next day, however, I tried it again, and this time I mustered my courage and went in to the bend of my knees. It was wonderful! I did this twice more before I was detected by my ugly tutor who ran to Mother with the startling news that I had willfully disobeyed her!

Again I cried, and again Mother consoled me and made me promise to always obey my tutor.

A week passed, but my desire to wade was as strong as before. It was Sunday. Tutor had left for the day. Father, too, was away, and Mother was busy about the house. Knowing I would never have such a favorable chance again, I raced for the pond! Naturally, I had gotten over being timid, and this time I was quite daring!

Knee-deep no longer interested me. Besides, there was something delightfully naughty about the feel of the water on my legs! What it was I didn't know, of course; I knew only that it was the most wonderful sensation I had ever felt, and the deeper I went, the greater the sensation!

I went deeper and deeper. Then, to my dismay, I found the lace at the bottom of my drawers was stiff and soaked, and that the legs were wet halfway up! I was frightened! I knew Mother would be furious if she discovered this, but my desire for the feel of the water was overwhelming. I hurried up the bank and removed the offensive garments, and after spreading them to dry, I hurried back into the pond! Free, now, of the troublesome things, I waded out, and this time the water lapped at my cunt! Oh, what a thrill it was!

I mention all this to show you that in my innocence I knew nothing of myself. I knew nothing of the thrills one might enjoy through the medium of one's cunt. So, of course, I didn't know that I was experiencing that first spark of young womanhood which comes to all girls. All that I was interested in was the fact that it felt so nice I thought I was in heaven!

The heavenly feeling seemed to center deep between my thighs. Wondering what it could be, I put my fingers there, only to find the strange sensations increased, for my fingers had come in contact with that tiny sentinel which guards the abode of bliss and which, until that moment, I never knew I had.

It was, as you may have guessed, my clitoris, that little jewel of an organ that was to play such an important part in my life in the years to follow!

Do you remember, my dear, how you used to love lying with your face between my legs? And how you delighted in kissing and tenderly sucking that tiny red tongue, as you called it? Well, it was that same tiny morsel I found that day as I stood hip-deep in our little pond. So, do you realize now what an important part my ugly tutor played in my later life?

I was frightened as well as happy, and as I dried my dress before returning home, I promised myself many more wading parties in that little pond. You see, I thought the water was responsible for those strange and heavenly sensations I had experienced.

And that, dear friend, was the very beginning of a life of utmost pleasure.

Then came a change in my life, and I found myself temporarily deprived of the pleasure of wading. It's just as well-I might have become an addict to that dreadful practice known as masturbation!

About this time, it was discovered I had a most unusual voice. I had been singing in Sunday school, and our music teacher often spoke of the wonderful future in store for me. I accepted these compliments gracefully, and I continued to attend to my music. Then one day my choirmaster visited our home and spoke for some time with Mother. I learned that he had discussed with her the unusual quality of my voice. Mother spoke with Father about it, and it was decided that I should receive some formal training.

Then followed four months of intensive study. I practiced faithfully and soon it was learned that my voice was far beyond anything my instructors had even conceived. It was suggested that I be sent away where I might study under masters, and thus develop what they termed my good fortune.

But Mother and Father refused to listen to this. They did, however, consent to hire a private music teacher. As this change necessitated the removal of my other tutor, I was overjoyed. I expected another old witch, of course, but anyone would have been preferable. I praised the good Lord when she finally packed her belongings and left.

For a few weeks, I was quite alone. I had no tutor, my only studies being that of music. I attended Sunday school daily. Also, I had plenty of time to run about the gardens, and you may rest assured the little pond came in for its share of attention. I bathed there every day. Sometimes in complete nakedness, at others partly so, but always my little cunt came in for its share of fondling.

As the days slipped by, I began to take notice of my breasts. They grew larger and firmer and rounder, and as my fingers caressed them a thrill swept over me. I noticed, too, that my legs seemed rounder and more firm. And there was something else. I noticed that the hairs about my cunt grew darker and darker, and thicker and thicker.

I found also that I experienced more and more thrills and that they became more and more pronounced just before and just after my “sickness.” I didn't know what caused this, but I wasn't to be left long in the dark, as you shall see.

One afternoon about this time, Mother informed me that she was expecting guests. It seemed the “guests” were her niece and the niece's husband-to-be, and since they had long promised to visit us, they took it upon themselves to do so before their marriage. The following day they arrived, bag and baggage. Since these two young people were to furnish a spectacle that prompted and hurried me upon my career, it is no more than right that I describe them here. The girl was about twenty and very pretty. She was shapely too, and her complexion was superb; all in all, one might sum her up as beautiful.

Meeting such a girl in later years, I would have promptly put her down as one literally dying to be fucked. Five years later, when I became a lover of women's charms, I invariably chose just such a girl, for the simple reason that she was animate and would comply, willingly, with my every request.

Her lover was equally good looking. Five feet eleven, very handsome, slightly dark with wonderful eyes, I fell quite in love with him. They seemed devoted to each other and were seldom out of each other's sight.

Now, it must be remembered that I was just approaching young womanhood-that period in a girl's life where so little is required to ignite the spark of passion. I remember that when I came near this man I would blush, and hot flashes came over me, thrilling me to the core.

Both were very nice to me, and as I recall it now, this man often cast longing glances at me. Had his future wife not been present there is no telling what might have happened, as I am sure I would have welcomed him to my arms.

Life is a strange thing. A thief is forever finding something to steal, a drunkard is forever being offered wine, and so it was with me. I have already said I believed I was made for love. I repeat it now. It was as though temptation was forever being thrown in my path.

Let me explain. A day or two after their arrival, I had taken my poodle and started off for a walk. At the far end of the gardens, and not far from the pond, there was a little summerhouse.

As I neared this, I heard someone laugh and recognized the voice as that of the bride-to-be. My poodle had bounded off to his favorite swimming place thinking, of course, that I would follow; but another idea popped into my mind. Why not creep up and frighten them?

As I neared the tiny building, however, I delayed my surprise attack. I heard something of what they were saying, and my curiosity being aroused, I listened. My heart was beating wildly; I knew it was an evil thing to eavesdrop, but my shameful curiosity had the better of me.

My eagerness to hear was further aroused when I heard my cousin say: “Oh, please, dear, wait until tonight; we can take a walk up the road and then you can have all you want!"

I wondered what it was her intended wanted. Thinking it might be something good to eat, perhaps, I crept closer to the window and found I had a clear view of the interior. What a sight met my eyes!

They were standing in the center of the cottage. Their arms were about each other, their mouths were joined, and they seemed lost in the affectionate embrace. Then their lips parted, and they stood for a long moment staring into each other's eyes.

"But, darling,” he said, still clasping her in his arms, “it's been almost a week since I've had anything! I'm bursting for it! Here, feel for yourself."

Then, as I stood there breathless, my eyes fairly bursting from their sockets, he pulled open the front of his trousers! His great tool came out! It was thick and stiff and heavily veined, and at the top was a glistening pink bulb that seemed near to bursting.

"Here,” he said, placing her hand on it. “Feel how hard it is, dear! Please!” Then, clutching her in a tighter embrace, his lips met hers in another clinging kiss, her hand now working up and down the poker-like thing she held in her hand! For one breathless moment, I watched her as she toyed with that thrilling organ. Then something else occurred: His arms, which had been clasping her, now slid down. His hands clutched the firm cheeks of her bottom! My eyes staring, I watched as he slowly drew up her dress! Up and up! Now it was at her hips!

Suddenly my mind went back to my old tutor! She was forever telling me how vulgar it was to expose one's legs. Yet, here was a man pulling up a girl's dress and about to expose far more than her legs!

What was more, my cousin seemed to enjoy this freedom! Was it possible, I thought, that this girl liked being denuded in this startling manner?

Truly she must have, for now her dress was well above her waist and the man was toying with and feeling all over her bottom and back, which was entirely devoid of anything like drawers or other undergarments!

I felt the perspiration burst out on my face. My lips grew hot and dry, while a sensation yet unknown seemed to take possession of me. Still the picture lingered. Her hand continued to work up and down his big affair; he continued to play with the naked cheeks of her lily-white bottom!

Again the picture changed. As one, they moved to a broad couch-like seat and here he pushed her down, but not for a moment did they stop what they were doing. He continued to toy with her naked cheeks; she persisted in stroking his iron-hard tool! Her legs fell apart, and at the same time, his hand came from behind her and slid into her now fully exposed crotch! What a picture I was witnessing! Naked from her lush, cherry-capped breasts to the tops of her stockings, her thighs well parted, she seemed to relish the feel of his hand as it toyed with the thick black curls at the base of her belly or slid into the crimson gap buried in its folds!

Her hips were moving and her hand quickened its up and down motion on his shaft. She let go of him as he suddenly dropped to his knees, and, while I stared, hardly daring to breathe, plunged his face into the forest of black hair, kissing and licking her cunt in a frenzy of delight!

I knew nothing of it then, but how many times since have I experienced that delightful thrill of feeling a lover's tongue exploring the inner cavity of my own cunny! Ah, that young man was an artist; someone had taught him his lessons well.

For a minute, it seemed, he kissed it, and all the time she showed by the very expression on her face that she loved this strange sort of kiss! Her head rolled from side to side, little moans escaped her lips, and her hips thrust up and back in a steady motion. Her hands came down to his head. I thought she was trying to force his mouth away, but I discovered she was holding him even tighter to her! He lifted her thighs to his shoulders, wrapping his arms about her hips!

She was moaning aloud now! She stiffened, then gave a little startled cry as her hips jerked violently. Her eyes were glazed over and she muttered: “Oh” and “Ah” at each new attack!

Then, with an “Oh, my God!” on her lips, she threw her head back. She held herself rigid for fully a minute, then collapsed in an inert heap before him, her hands falling to her sides and her thighs falling from his shoulders!

Wondering what had happened, startled to almost the screaming point, I watched him bring the end of his rod to that lovely red gap he had been kissing! With his hands on her hips, he forced his belly against hers, driving his cock deep into the glistening slit!

I thought he must be killing her, so violently did he plunge it into her! Her legs came up and about his back, while her arms circled his neck. They both began swaying backward and forward. Then, with a firm forward thrust, he again drove it into her-just as I plunged my hand down the waist of my drawers and drove a finger into my own cunt! Ah, God! No one can describe the sensation I experienced at that moment as I immediately spent for the first time. My knees trembled beneath me; I gave a gasp, so intense was the thrill!

My finger, thrust to the last knuckle in my burning cunt, was bedewed with the thick starch-like fluid of my come. Streams of it, it seemed, gushed down my hand and forearm! But what's the use of trying to describe it to you, my friend? How many times have you complimented me when I poured that elixir of love into your willing lips? How many times have you told me I was the best suck you ever had? Who, then, is a better judge than yourself as to the amount I threw off that first time I fingered myself?

How many times have I longed to live over those first thrilling moments of my young life. But I must get on with this first installment of my story. After the sensations of feeling my finger in my own slit died down somewhat, I brought my attention once again to the young couple. He was still thrusting within her, but his movements were faster now, and the girl was rotating her hips furiously. Just then, her head arched back and she let out a wrenching sob. He also choked back a cry and rammed himself yet further into her. They held this pose for endless minutes, their only movement being the shuddering of their limbs. They became more quiet; her legs slid down from his back, and then, free of her clasp, he withdrew his cock from her. I noticed then that it was but half its former size. He took his seat beside her, but I noted how careful she was not to cover her charms.

Instead, she sat there, her skirt well above her waist, and for the first time I had an unhindered view of her pretty cunt. It was far larger than mine. Its color was deeper and it was surrounded with thick, black hair, while the cunt itself gaped open and a trickle of thick white stuff ran from the bottom and dripped on her skirt.

As her lover seated himself beside her, my cousin lifted her left thigh and placed it across his lap. Then she carried one of his hands to her cunt, and as his fingers divided the red lips and bored into the dark interior, she placed her nearest hand upon his half-limber cock and toyed with it. He slipped his arm about her and kissed her lips with soft, clinging kisses.

Now and then their lips would part and they would say something I couldn't hear, but at last, when it seemed she was about to eat him entirely with her passionate kisses, she said, “Now, Paul, darling, suck me off again!"

This time, instead of kneeling between her knees as he had previously done, he slid to the floor and lay full length on his back. For a long moment, she stood staring down at him. Then, with a deft motion of her hands, she swept the dress up to her breasts and fell astride his upturned face which disappeared into the thick fleece between her thighs!

Reaching out one hand, she grasped his cock, which was again in a wonderful state of erection, and worked it up and down, not unlike she had previously done. Then, her face wreathed in smiles, she leaned down and took it into her mouth and began sucking it in and out, while Paul massaged her cunt with his tongue!

She pulled back and let her lips lightly caress the very tip of his throbbing cock. Her tongue darted out in butterfly movements, laving the turgid head of his member with her moist kisses. Slowly, she sucked him into her mouth again, this time allowing the length of him to continue its penetration until her very nose rested on his balls. Slowly she pulled away again, sucking with all her might upon his thick tool. Once she had only the acorn-shaped tip in her mouth again, she sucked even harder, easing the morsel in and out between her lips. I could see the veins stand out from her neck with the incredible suction she was exerting. He freed his mouth from her gaping slit and cried out his pleasure. His fingers replaced his lips and tongue, frantically caressing her as he jerked his hips, burying his engorged cock in her waiting mouth.

I remember wondering at the time what I would do if a man were to place his hand on my cunt, to say nothing of kissing it! I knew I would have died on the spot!

Rising, at last, she turned and kissed his lips, saying, “You darling lover, you! Your come almost choked me, there was so much!"

Again I wondered what could have happened, but it was no use; it was far too much of a mystery for me to solve. I would have remained and watched more had not I been overtaken with another violent spasm of pleasure, and again my hand and arm were drenched with the creamy jism which gushed from me! My head was in a whirl! I was shocked beyond anything I had ever experienced!

I waited to see no more. Quietly I crept away and made my way to the pond. Here, without even the formality of removing my shoes and stockings, I waded in, not stopping until I was tittie-deep! However, after I had been in the water perhaps five minutes, I came to my senses somewhat, and realized what I had done. Knowing I had to face Mother and that I was due for a dreadful scolding, I went my sorrowful way back to the house. Fortunately, I was able to enter without being seen by her! Quickly I ran to my room, changed into dry clothing, and returned to the lower floor without a single soul ever becoming the wiser.

As I opened the door to go out again, the two lovers were walking up the gravel path toward the house. The tranquility on their faces defied one to even guess at the strenuous exercises in passion they had so recently indulged in. Despite my innocence, I marveled at this, for even the cool water of the pond had failed to quench the fire that raged within me.

Naturally, I was anxious to again witness those strange scenes between the two lovers, and shortly after dinner I was fortunate enough to see them again slipping off to the garden, where I was sure they would repeat their banquet of love. But just as I was about to follow them, a girlfriend entered the gate and came to me. She, like myself, was taking singing lessons at the parsonage. Being something of a pianist, she thought we could rehearse at home while she played. My chance of again witnessing the lovers’ duet was, of course, out of the question for the time being.

Do you understand now, dear friend, how I was being led into that carnal path from which there is no turning back? Is it any wonder that I became the rage of all Europe? Do you wonder that I was the talk of every city I visited?

But do not think for one moment that I am complaining of my past; I am not. I have been far too happy in my life to even think for a single moment that I have done wrong. Nor has it given me the slightest moment of regret as to whose company I kept, and I am sure that goes for the future, too.

That I believe I was born to love I can prove in a few brief words. Consider for a moment the young man who chooses Art as a profession. Some little thing has, perhaps, inspired him to paint. He takes up the study, and what happens? From the very first he is thrown in with painters-artists, we call them-and their instructors and fellow students. Everything is art in his life. He sees it, lives and breathes it and, so, in a few years, he becomes an artist; at least he's called one.

Take the case of the student who takes up medicine. In college, he hears nothing else. He attends classes, sees surgeons operate; his mind becomes imbued with surgery. And so, he in turn becomes a surgeon. Do you see what I mean?

Very well, then. Instead of becoming a painter or a surgeon, I took up the study of love-and all because I was reared in the very arms of love and lust.

Let me tell you of another delightful scene I witnessed, and this right in my own home. I had been assigned to another room, mine having been put to the disposal of one of our guests. It happens that this room adjoined the one occupied by Mother. It connected with hers by a door, over which was a transom. There was another entrance to my temporary room, but this led to the porch. I mention this door since it's to play a role in the scheme of things.

That evening at dinner, I remembered that the following day was Mother's birthday. After supper, the lovers suggested that we gather great bunches of flowers with which to decorate the house. I readily agreed. So, the following morning, we three were out gathering the multicolored buds, and by noon the house had been gaily decorated.

Accompanying the lovers-as I choose to refer to them-was never a bother, for I was treated to many thrilling sights. Indeed, they seemed to have gotten over the idea of hiding their lovemaking from me, and many times during their stay, I saw Paul's hands slide up beneath my cousin's dress. The day we gathered flowers was no exception. They toyed with and petted each other at every opportunity, and by suppertime, I was sure I was to witness another episode of their thrilling lovemaking. But in this, however, I was wrong; if anything went on it was after I had retired to my room.

But I wasn't to be deprived altogether. All evening my parents seemed gay and happy (a rare thing, I might mention), and as I went to my room, something seemed to prompt me to look into theirs. On the porch was a short stepladder, which Father used in trimming the bushes and vines. I carried this into my room through the porch entrance. Placing it against the door leading directly into their room, I climbed it and discovered I had a splendid view of the interior through the glass of the transom. The room, however, was vacant; they had not yet arrived.

Taking advantage of the interval, I quickly undressed and donned my nightgown. Then, just as I was ready to again climb the ladder, I heard someone moving about in the next room. With heart beating wildly-for I had never before spied on anyone except the lovers-I climbed the ladder.

Father was sitting upon the side of the bed removing his shoes and stockings. He was gazing raptly at Mother, who stood before the mirror taking down her hair. The upper part of her splendid body was covered with only a chemise of sheer linen, and since it was cut quite low, I had a splendid view of both her full, firm titties almost to the nipples.

She had unhooked her skirts, and these hung about her rounded hips threatening, it seemed, to fall from her with every movement.

All this I took in at a single glance. Then I turned my gaze to Father, who had finished his disrobing with the exception of his drawers and was sitting on the bed as though waiting for Mother to finish her undressing. I had never before seen a man as near totally naked and was surprised to see the profusion of black hair on his chest. It seemed to cover the whole front of his body and disappear down into his drawers. In the meantime, Mother had finished with her hair and had turned, facing Father. She asked if she shouldn't put out the light, but Father answered, “No, dear, it's seldom I have a chance to view your beautiful body. So as long as this is to be in honor of your birthday, let me have you completely nude."

Mother laughed a little. Then, with a toss of her head and a slight shrug, she pushed the little straps from her shoulders, allowing both the chemise and her skirts to fall to the floor. The next moment I saw, for the first time in my life (for my cousin and her lover had always worn this or that odd bit of clothing), a stark naked woman! And what a picture she was! In all my travels, I have never seen a more beautiful woman naked!

Quickly she moved to the bed, as though ashamed of her nudity, and placed her arms about his neck. They kissed, not as the lovers had during their lovemaking, but soft, clinging kisses, such as I had never seen before. All the time one of Father's hands wandered all over her body and thighs, she lending herself willingly to his every touch. His hand slid down into the thick fleece above her slit, where it toyed for a few seconds, then dropped between her thighs. For a moment Mother held her legs together and then, as he reclined her on her back, she allowed them to fall loosely apart.

Since she'd been sitting on the side of the bed facing me, I had a wonderful view of her full-fledged cunt! For a minute or two, he played with it, and then he suddenly stood up and let drop his drawers. As he turned to place them over the back of a chair, a sensation of the sheerest delight swept over me, for his stiff cock stood out from his belly like a bar of iron!

I had but a moment to view the wonderful bobbing thing, for a moment later he turned his back again and settled down upon the bed. Here they lay kissing each other for several moments! Then, as though he could no longer stand it, he quickly mounted her beautiful body! It was the same as I had already witnessed between the lovers, only instead of rushing about the business at hand, everything seemed to be deliberate and done with care.

First he applied the velvety pink head of his thick cock to the lips of her cunt; he hovered for long seconds, rubbing the head of his throbbing shaft around the lips of her pussy. She let out a soft moan and shook her head from side to side. He worked the head in a little way, wetting it with her now-flowing juices. He pulled the tip of his cock back out and again caressed her soft lower lips with it. Having excited her till her breasts were heaving and her breath was coming in short gasps, he then began forcing it into her, driving and pushing until it was in to the hilt! Like the girl in the summerhouse, Mother raised her legs and clasped them about his middle, and then the fucking began in earnest! Sighs and kisses were exchanged with the same freedom as those of the lovers, but their action seemed to lack that fire and fierceness I had previously witnessed.

But, like all lovemaking sessions, this one ended like all good fucks should end. Mother twisted and squirmed as Father shot his boiling sperm into the innermost recesses of her trembling cavern. Both lay for several minutes as though dead. Father was the first to move. As he relieved her of his weight and dragged his diminishing piston from her cunt hole, I could see the same whitish fluid running from the bottom of her crack as I had seen in the summerhouse. Mother's pussy, though, seemed to be larger and gape further open. At that time, I was anything but a connoisseur of feminine charms, and my first impression was that Mother's cunt seemed greatly inflamed. But this was due, no doubt, to her age and the fact that I had passed through those soft portals.

For a few moments, she lay there panting. Father, too, seemed in great need of rest, for his cock had fallen to but half its length and was hanging down between his thighs. Then Mother arose and went to the dresser to get a towel. Returning to the bed, she first dried his drooping shaft and then her cunt. This done, she seated herself again. She leaned over him and began kissing his lips, and then she suddenly changed her position.

Now she devoted her attention to his limp member, toying with it and caressing it. Then, in answer to something he said and which I couldn't hear, she bent down and took the end of it between her lips and sucked it!

Now, I haven't given you a hint as to my own feelings as a result of watching this strange and exciting affair, and this is because I can find no words to convey my meaning. I had drawn up my nightgown, and as Mother took the end of Father's cock between her lips, I put my fingers between the lips of my pink little virgin slit and diddled myself not-very-expertly until I bathed my hand with another prolific dose of my girlish juice. Because I hadn't drawers on this time, it gushed down my thighs unhindered. I so lost control of myself that I slid down the ladder and lay in a heap on the floor in a near exhausted condition.

Remember, again, that I was rather young at the time, and found it rather trying to withstand the rigors of continually masturbating. Later, however, I managed to crawl into bed where I fell into a troubled sleep. It was troubled only in that it was filled with the most wonderful cocks in the world, and though I fought frantically to grasp one that I might use, the wicked things eluded me with the most surprising energy.

As long as I can remember, I never saw my parents kiss each other again, nor did I ever see them repeat their actions in bed, though I watched several times hoping for another performance.

I have often wondered if that little affair hadn't been something which took place only on special occasions-like a birthday! What a shame if that was indeed the case!

Another strange thing about it was that the next morning neither of them seemed to show the slightest hint of the wonderfully thrilling party they had experienced the previous night. But, after all, hadn't it been the same way between the lovers when I saw them after leaving the summerhouse?