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We entered the Palais D’Coite. It was a most at-
tractive tavern with hotel atmosphere. Roland regis-
tered, then we were led to a “private dining room,”
that is, it was called that by the host. In reality it
was a sumptuous bedroom with a table elaborately
set for dinner. I was awe-struck by the dreamy affect
in the appointment of the room.

At the end of this chamber, furthest from the door,
was an inviting bed. How I would like to get laid in
it, I thought.

Apparently this room was carefully made for
fuckers only. The ceiling above the bed was mirror-
ed! the foot and the head of the bed were similarly
fitted.

Heavy damask drapes hung along side the bed.
They could be drawn and completely hide the bed. I
presumed that this arrangement was made for bash-
ful parties-carrees, or else to help muffle the lustful
shrieks and cries of passion maddened fuckers.

Dim red lamps cast a sensuous glowing pallor
throughout the room. With such atmosphere who
would not become passionate? I know my cunt was
glwing with the same red pallor of the room.

Evidently the dinner was arranged beforehand.
It was served as soon as I removed my white wrap
and tam.

Roland locked and bolted the dors, then he
kissed me with the fervor of youth in its wildest
stage. I opened my dress so that he could obtain a
more complete view of my, until-a-few-minutes-ago,
virgin charms. He dashed his lips to my white, plump
bubbies and tried to suck them thin. I was already
hot enough to receive his bursting dick, but he
spoke:

“First well drink a love potion and eat a hearty
meal … it feels even better then/’

“Why beloved, could anything feel any better than
that we have both indulged in … it was so divinely
heavenly,” I looked at him with a hazy lustful ex-
pression in my eyes.

“With such alluring atmosphere and you, the zen-
ith of seductiveness, I, in this room expect to reach
the highest height of joys . . . the crowning fuck of
my life,” he spoke, poetically and in utmost sincerity.

He gripped me in his arms agai nand carressed
me with artistic grace. It touched me as no other kiss
ever did. Then we began our meal.

First we drang two delicious cocktails. They re-
minded me somewhat of my first dring with Don, my
former flame; How different everything here was
copared ti that dingy little speak-easy, and how dif-
ferent a girl I was then. He tried to put his hand
on my knee then. I slapped his face and I cried. Nowt
I dared anything! just to cool an itching pussie.
Funny isn’t it, how a girl’s morals change in so short
time?

Never before had I looked at a meal that made
me seethe between the legs, but this mal did! What
a dinner! I later learned that the dishes were chosen
to produce this result. Not only did they cause ones’
passions to rise by gazing upon them, but they were
of such constituents that they created abronmal se-
cretions of the love juices and imbued the promotion
of jazzful feelings.

I assume that every man and woman who fucks
knows that the more love syrup a man or woman has
the hotter they get and the longer they fuck; even
the feeling is greater. This meal was more or less an
appetizer for the coming feast of the flesh.

When I had finished about half of my meal, from
the affects of the many flavored wines, I was drunk,
not from the alcoholic contents of them, but from the
strange passion exciting elements that they con-
tained. I was “rarring” to fuck. I would have dis-
robed in the middle of a public thoroughfare or park
if $ knew that would beget me the big prick that I
now so impatiently yearned for.

We both were nibbling on oysters when Roland
seized another bottle of champagne, as though some
idea suddenly struck his mind. He reached for the
glasses, his eyes at the same time gloated over my
bared titties. He filled two of them to the brim and
spoke:

“Here i sto a fascinating girl, with a ravishingly
beautiful form and a betwitching cunt, may she for-
ever be mine and full of spunk, right now she’s hot
and full of shot!”

We did not drink. I wanted to get a toast out of
my mind with even more lust than Roland’s. I was
continually getting warmer between my legs, my
cunnie was burning, itching, and genuinely cock-
hungry. I picked up my glass, as did he, and through
my passion dimmed eyes I dreamily gazed into his
and declaimed:

“Here’s to my lover,

A king of a shover;
His supply of cream,

Into my cunt it shall stream;
Such floods of delight

I want every night; ^

His cream is like dew,

It will always make me spew;

May he always reign supreme,

Of his prick I will always dream V9

Just fancy a demur girl, with an innocent, baby-
face of twenty springing a toast like that. I actually
blushed at my unprecedented boldness. You should
have seen Roland’s face when I finished. It had that,
baby-I-could-fuck-you-to-death, expression written
all ovev rit. The way he rushed around to my side of
the table I thought he was going to eat me. He milked
both of my titties, first with his hands then with his
mouth. We were both the worse from the bubbie
stimulating exercise. Then he released me and
panted:

“You lovely cock-stimulator, I’ll finish my din-
ner with your cream puffs!”

He again bent and sucked on the stiff red nipples,
sending many more shivers of delight through me. I
almost wet my chemise, but Roland stopped just as
I felt my tube beginning to contract. I really didn’t
want to come then because I wanted to save every
drop of luscious spend for the dessert to this meal
. . . our cunt and prick embrace; besides when I
come I always want a big throbbing prick between
my legs.

I wanted to surprise Roland with the same kind
of attack that he visited upon me. Impulsively I
dashed to his side of the table and before he was
fully aware of my purpose I had unbuttoned his
trousers and bared his bursting cock. I tenderly
fondled it with my hands, then I found its eye with
the tip of my flaming tongue. Roland squirmed and
groaned under the spell of this attack. After swab-
bing the head lightly with my tongue I put the entire
crown in my mouth. I drew my lips very firm and
held them in that povlJon for a few minutes. Then
slowly I drew my lips, keeping them tight all the
time, until they freed his stormy peter. Roland al-
most came.

“Now Roland, I’ve repaid you. Now sit down and
eat, please! If you show me that big handsome thing
of your’s again I’ll go off in my panties. You know
dear when I go off I want every bit of you in me.”

We continued our dinner as my lover gazed at my
fat little titties. Those two springy mounds of flesh
with their insidious red nipples standing outward
perkingly, were reminiscent of two little hard-as-iron
peters.

“Gee-whiz, girlie,” Roland said feverishly, “I
could feast on your titties forever! How I would like
to fuck you between those two appetizing mounds of
meat! And how wonderful it would be to watch my
juice flood your immaculate neck and trickle over to
put cream on your two ripe strawberry nipples. Baby
I’m cunt crazy! You are the cause! I can hardly
wait ._. . oh I’m going to fuck you so good!”

These words streamed right through me, starting
at the nipplejs of my tits, they sent an electric thrill
down to my itching slit between my legs.

Just before we finished our dinner Roland opened
another bottle of wine and proposed the following:

“If my little queen will d the belly dance upon
the table, then she will be my choice to take across
the sea with me . . . here’s to Flossie, the queen of
belly dancers!”

I wasn’t shocked, but I certainly was surprised . . .
who wouldn’t be? A trip to Europe just for a belly
dance. I never had seen an actual performance of
thisc requested dance, but did I balk? I should say
I didn’t!

I gave the room a hasty scan to determine whether
it was possible for anyone other than Roland to wit-
nes the exhibition. Even the key-hole had a covering.
I trembled as I mounted the table, not for fear of
being caught amid this lascivious dance, but I was
not confident whether I could perform this fete well
enough to merit the promised trip abroad. After all
I had only heard of this dance, yet I formed a men-
tal opinion of its description. That is all I had to gy
by. I wanted to do my best to please my man.

I removed all,my clothing, except my slippers and
stockings. I had always thought that shoes and hose
add to the seductiveness of the nude feminine form.
I opened and closed m ylegs at the thigh joints, thus
teasingly revealing my red lipped cuntie. You should
have seen Roland! How he gloated! His eyes burned
with a passionate fire and bulged from their sockets.

I glanced in the mirror to see the effect that I must
be causing in Roland. My God! I created a scene that
would make any man drunk with lust, let alone one
with Roland’s cunt-loving nature. It was brazen, but
what in the Hell did I care. For a trip abroad this
was merely a down payment … I would have per-
formed an act ten times as rash if I was asked to do
so. Didn’t I want to go stark nude in the public park
just for a big, fat, juicy prick between my legs?

Roland blew me a kiss, then he applauded. I then
kicked off my slippers so that I would be more cer-
tain of my footing. I posed for a moment with my
legs apart. I knew that my swllen slit composed a
tempting picture. I was certain that through the
strands of silky protection my vaginal mouth beck-
oned my lover’s lust to higher spheres of uncontrol-
lable prick-in-cunt desires. Its moist and pulpy lips
protruded plainly through those soft, silky, protect-
ing hairs.

I do not think it is necessary for me to describe
the dance as everyone has probably, seen it. I have
described’how I looked upon the table. You can ima-
gine how nice my plump bubs looked shaking in.
every direction. And Roland said that it was worth a
million dollars to watch my pussie whirl. He told me
that everytime I moved down the mouth opened and
as I went up it closed, ‘

My audience could bear the scene no longer. He
pulled out his beating cock and began to shake it in
every direction. It grew very large and glowed with
lust again. I was so fascinated b ythis I almost forgot
to continue with my act. He kept his eyes fixed on
me. He muttered and panted in glowingly eloquent
terms, approval and encouragement. This made n\e
hotter and wilder; as a result my movements were
becoming more frenzied and more distorted. I guess
if y pussie wasn’t grown in me I would have shaken
it from its folds.

I raised my hands and placed them behind my
head. Then I elevated my juicy shaft so that my
cunt-hungry admirer could look deep into my fiery
slit. I cried to him:

“Rollie dear, make your’s come, I want to see it
shoot!”

I went through the motions of fucking as I had
watched him going through the lewd ceremony. If I
were really jazzing some one I imagine that I would
have been one hot and furious fuck. All this brought
me to apoint of maddening erotic feeling. I felt that
if I saw him come I too would spend.

Roland’s hand began to more tightly clutch his
peter. Its knob grew more purple and swollen, to the
point of bursting. His hand increased its speed, then
he moaned:

“Flossie, are you look—I—I’m—Ah— I’m coming!
Here she comes! See it squirt! Oh, how good it feels!
Ah—h—uh!”

He went off, it looked like milk pouring from a
cow’s teats. He shot all over the table, floor an da
few drops found my spew-thirsty slit. His balls ele-
vated and sank. Each time they went through this
movement a michine-gun-like barrage of sperm
came flying out of his one eyed crater, scattering at
tangents; more or less a volcanic eruption in minia-
ture.

When the last drops of his creamy dew ran over
the part that divides the two sides of his cock’s head,
I dashed from the table fb his side. I placed the tur-
gid spew sopped knob of his bobbing pole in my
mouth. My, oh my! I have never till then tasted any-
thing so delicious as hs sperm-oiled reeking knob
. . . and remember I had just finished one of the
most appetizing meals that I had ever eaten. This
was incomparably more ravishing! I guess I am a
girl who is far more spew-hungry than feed-hungry.

How I sucked those last drops of priceless cream!
Roland writhed in agonizing ecstasy!
In a trembling voice he moaned:
“Suck it all out girlie. Oh God! How lovely it is!
How ravishing 1”

His strength ebbed as I continued with this opera-
tion. He fell into a submissive swoon, still I continued
to extract the remnants o? salty, deliciously warm,
precious fluid. I swear by Eros it was good!

This action did not tend to subside my fires. When
I had finished, the itch in my cunnie had grown to
giant size. My pussie was craving to be prick-cram-
med.

I poured a cordial for Roland, who now seemed
so faint and weak. Instead of swallowing the drink
he merely sipped the brim so that it would not over-
flow. Then, as though he had regained all his vim he
picked me up, carried me over and placed me on
the bed. he assured me that my quim would not be
neglected, but it must have a drink.

Roland quickly undressed. I must confess that his
body revealed youth and true masculinity; well
formed and apparently strong muscles, suggesting a
member of a daily calisthenics class. His skin was
baby-white and well covered with hairy patches. It
seemed as though nature had awarded my lover
more than his share of male qualities. The one fea-
ture of his that attracted me most of all was his su-
perbly handsome, already hard again, prick. It was
as fat, long, and juicy looking now as it was before
his recent spend. It protruded from his large be-
wiskered balls like a drum-major’s baton . . . in fact
it beat like one too. Of course, I wondered how long
could his remain in that position.

After he had removed all of his clothing he took
the glass of cordial in his hand and approached the
bed.

“Now open your legs, sweet,” he commanded.

I could think of no other request that I would
have welcmed more at that time. His orders clicked
perfectly with my mood. I raised my plump, little
lilly bottom, thus elevating my pulsating pussie, and
propped my knees high and wide. My cunt section
was about six inches in the air. He gazed longingly
and carnally at my stretched spew-thirsty slit, which
was so wantonly exposed to his cunt-seeking view.
His eyes glared like two spot-lights! In puzzled anx-
iety I awaited his movements. He placed two fingers
within the lips and pryed them apart. His warm
touch made my pussie twitter. My tube opened and
clossed in anticipation. Oh mercy, how my orifice
flamed! Upon my word, it felt like it was really
burning! It might have been my imagination, but I
sensed steam rushing through my pulsating vaginal
tube and bursting part my two swollen, red, pliant
lips.

Roland was now observing my smacking lips more
closely, he watched them open and close. A maniac’s
carnal smile beamed from his lips. What the Hell
are you going to do? I wanted to say. I was lust
crazed too. A fast fuck is what I needed much more
than anything else in the world. Give it to me you
God-damned cunt teaser, I’m glad I didn’t speak that
impulsive thought . . . even if I would have, I would-
n’t have been at fault, most girls know how insanely
lustful they become when they are played with this
way and the prick is meditative about enterning. In
this condition all women want to be transfixed by
the biggest, meatiest and most heated prick in the
world … or available at the time. Yes, and they have
a desire to swim in the ecstatic pools of nectarious
spew.

As my coozie opened once more, Roland dashed
the entire glass of cordial into the depths of my deli-
rious cunt. Then he held the lips together to allow
the sapid juice to penetra’te into the inmost depths of
my womb. At first this cunt drink soothed and
cooled, but God! as soon as it reached my uterus
. . . a million bugs, no a billion, were biting and
scratching at the walls of my interior nest!

“Christ Almighty,> God, Roland, I’m going crazy!”
I screamed, as I underwent this experience.

Without a doubt this was the wildest frenzy of
passion that I have ever undergone . . . surely, I
thought I would either die or be left a life long
prick-o-maniac! I couldn’t even faint to escape this
delightfu torture.

“Roland!” I exasperated, “God-damn! . . . Roland!
do something! … Oh for Christ sake! I’m going nuts
… Oh I’m dying! Please!” Then I cried in delirium,
“God have pity on my soul, I know I done . . .”

I did not finish my last sentence, because Roland
had begun to answer my pleas. He dropped to his
knees and with the skill of a master, glued his lips to
my open cunnie mouth and before any of this pas-
sion engrossing fluid escaped, he began to $uck. He
drank every drop from my burning chambers.

He began to ravish my pussie with his lips and
tongue . . . how I craved for a spend! Only God and
I know, I cannot explain this to anyone.

His lips, tongue and tickling mustache were now
beginning to be an even greater stimuli than the cor-
dial. I crossed my legs around his head and drew his
jabbing dart further into my nest. If I was to obey
the dictates of my will at that moment I would have
drawn his entire head within my slit and have him
wiggle his ears. Ye Gods! How he did suck and lap
me! He paused now and then, increasing my frenzied
yearnings to come.

His skillful performance of this act had its telling
effect ouon me. I began to screw my plump little
ass around. I let my left leg slip from his neck and
fall upon his gigantic bolt. I tickled the bottom of my
foot on the head of his red-hot peter; it was truly
hot, because it almost burned the sole of my foot.
Gosh, but it was hard! Just as rigid as a bone. Its
undulating motions rocked my foot up and down. It
seemed as though his kissing and tongue-garnishing
my cunnie had caused his lust to continually rise. I
rubbed my limb all over the crown of his cunt-pene-
trater.

I soon felt my climax nearing, so I cried in pants:

“Rollie! . . . Oh Rollie dear! … ah! … uh, so
good! . . . put your tongue in further! . . . oh, faster!
. . . faster! . . . Rollie! . . . how nice . . . you suck
and tongue-fuck me so nicely! . . . Ah-h-h-ooo-ah-h-
uh-h!”

God damn, but it was good! Gee-zoo, but I loved
it so! Since he knew that my climax was approach-
ing he began to tickle my ass-hole with his finger and
work his dagger with more zeal. I again began to hug
him with my legs . . . firmer and firmer as the spend
neared. Boy, it was getting good!

The flood gates of love at last released my dew!

I panted, writhed and murmurred, as I convulsively
opened and closed my thighs about his neck. I
strained the muscles of my belly, eac htime my spas-
modically contracting cunnie sent our a delicious
doe sof love’s sweet syrup. The feeling of gratifica-
tion overtook me, but only momentarily . . . only too
soon I wanted his dick in my cunt.

After he had completely lapped my discharge, lie
sealed his task with a soul satisfying upward sweep
with his tongue. He arose from his kneeling posture,
his dick still lust-swollen. Any other girl would have
expired from fright at the sight of this gigantic cunt-
seeking prick, but not I. This scene kindled another
blast of libido in my reeling twat. Gosh, I thought,
and this is only the beginning! I had just begun to
enjoy the qualities of a genuine lover. I .gloated over
him as I spoke:

“Oh Roland dear, what a beauty it is . . * I can’t
understand how such a big thing gets into so small a
place. How are you going to get it into me?”

“I’ll show you . . . you sweet fuckable baby. You’re
beginning to make me wish that I was only twenty
again.”

“Raise your little fat ass . . . that’s the nice little
girl.”

He placed a pillow beneath, thus setting my fuck-
ing machinery in a more convenient position. He
also placed another one under my head so that I
could view the procedure more easily. Now we were
all set for a comfortable and lingering jazz. Was I
holding my breath? I’ll say I was, and I was also
holding my cunnie mouth open in readiness to gob-
ble up the approaching explorer. I could plainly feel
my nervous lips quiver in anticipation.

Roland caught both of my legs and strung them
through his arms. He picked my plump, baby-skin
thighs up so that the part was on the same plane
with his bursting cock. I watched the operation from
the mirror in the ceiling. My pussie was growing
more and more impatient. When he had found the
level that was most advantageous he refixed the pad-
ding that propped my bottom. Taking his monster-
dick in one hand he put it close to my kitten’s mouth;
with the other hand he parted my crop of blond,
silky, interwoven hairs. He placed his swollen pur-
pled-knobbed prick within the meshy folds of my
mellow pliant cunt-lips. My blood tingled with de-
light! For a moment he playfully fondled his dick-
head in my juicy slit. He also rubbed it zealously to
my clitty. I was excited to the point of insanity by
the hypnotic influence of his pulsating giant.

After getting it well lubricated in the sapor of my
sereing vent he sank it to the orifice of my pouting
vagina. I could not prevent myself from lunging for
this ramming tool with my hand . . . such was my
excitement; at last it found its goal. My cunt-tube
yielded submissively to this terriffc thing . . . such
avenous zest! He assisted my hand, in fact, he pre-
vented my hand from making his instrument drive
inward with fierce, cunt-ripping force. With the skill
of a master he slowing, gently and almost painlessly
drove his big Bertha home.

As it tunnelled its way in and in . . . God, the plea-
sure was great!

I now realize how much I could have spoiled my
pleasure had I been allowed to do my will, that is,
rush his in with brutal force.

Only the women who has been fucked by master
screwers are able to understand the soul stirring
thrills and sensations of a big . . . oh, such a nice,
sweet dick . . . that is buried slowly and sensually
into the depths of a super-prick-sensative pussie well.

Roland trembled as he uttered:

“How delightful! . . . what a wonderfully tight
pussie you have! . . . gee baby! . . . Am I hurting you,
Flossie?”

“Yes, but I love it ! … it feels so good . . . Oh how
I love your big fat thrilling prick . . . it’s so damn
good!”

When he had sunk his full eight inches into me,
Roland allowed it to rest in that position for a few
moments. I could feel the pulse in his prick making
it swell and bob. This provided a most absorbing and
delightful blood-tingling thrill. Slowly his big cunt-
cork began to pull out. It fitted so snugly in my tube
that it felt like it wa sdragging . . . no, causing to
collapse, the structure that holds my internal organs
intact.

Whenever I think of that feeling I am always
blessed with a coating of hot dew in my slit. You,
dear reader, can rest assured as I penned these
words I had at my service many big-pricked men
fully capable of satisfying the many cunt-heating at-
tacks that a have so far experienced and will con-
tinue to, during the course of writing this book.

As I have said he was slowly drawing his cock
from my slit. When he had drawn it almost com-
pletely out he shoved it in again with a most terrific
lunge. He repeated this action ; each time he acceler-
ated his speed. Back and forth it glided; at every
stroke his magnificent mass’ of glorious stiffness
caused me to make short outcries of ohs, and ahs,
etc. A wave of ectasy* which was produced by that
hard raspiness under the knob, began at my coozie
and ripped up my belly to my chest. There it would
fade in the heavings of my bosom and the beating of
my heart.

It was all soheaveny … I wished to prolong the
agony of delight … oh, so badly.

He changed his course again. He drew it almost
completely out, let it rest in that position for a short
time, then he would take it and rub it between my
quivering and clawing-on-his-prick, lips. Sometimes
he would press it to my swollen clitty. With renewed
lust, he would with terrific force, dash it in to the
depths of my slit-tube.

Spend? I spend almost every time he plugged
my hole in this manner.

The curtains were of little use. They certainly
couldn’t muffle my loud shrieks of unprecedented ec-
stasy.

The friction that is so overwhelming to the aver-
age woman was more than that to me. I could nei-
their control nor prolong any of my comings. Every
time I sht I became so overcome by the extereme
pleasure that I lost my senses in momentary delirius;
that can be partly blamed, if not entirely on the pas-
modic contradictions of my vaginal tube. Gee! my
whole belly seemed to squeeze whenever this hap-
pened.

I wondered how he could hold back so long. —
Imagine, all this time he retained his load! He with-
held his pleasure for a time that seemed like a half
hour … it might have been longer. One never knows
how much time passes when one is engaged in a
frantically emotional jazz.

His face glowed with a handsome pallor as he
watched his tool appear and disappear into the
depths of my come-soaked slit. He gloated over the
spicy picture of us in the nearby mirror.

It was maddening. After being engaged in such
lechery and lust for so long a time, in spite of this
fact, he still withheld that precious fluid. I was act-
ually hungering for another load of his hot juice to
revarnish my womb with. Would he ever come?

He suddenly picked me up while his largeness was
still in me and swung my legs over his shoulders.
This spread my knees even farther apart. My fat,
rubbery thighs held his neck snugly between them.
How we ever managed to get tangled in that posi-
tion, even Roland didn’t quite understand. At any
rate it gave his prick more freedom to work. It felt
now, like even his balls were caught in my prick-
trap.

Up, up, up, I puckered my crazed cunt . . . even
his balls weren’t enough to satisfy me. I wanted his
whole body in my little twat. God, what made me so
prick crazy? I didn’t know. I guess it was what is
commonly called “fuck-inebriation”. I pushed my
legs and stretched them . . . anything to make the
gap between my knees greater . . . ever pushing my
cunt up to meet my big visitor more intimately.

Ithought that I had enjoyed jazzing in the old
way but it was nil compared to this new position.

He paused long enough during these thrusts to kiss
me with all the fervor of his cunt-inflamed soul. He
also moulded my bubbies with his hands.
/’Flossie, what exquisite titties!” he exclaimed, then
kissed me between my plump mounds, “and how de-
liciously you can fuck. Flossie, you are gorgeous.
Oh-or. Bite me with your cunt-teeth! Eat it! Girlie,
it’s so good! Oh, you hot cunt! I’ll . . . I’ll . . . fuck
you full of love juice . . and he continued mutter-
ing between these entrancing, deep digs and twists.

I was speechless and could only gasp with convul-
sive thrills.

“Oh . . . Ah . . . Take that! … and that! … Oh
boy! . . . mmm-mm!”

He sprayed his strong jets of creamy fluid into me.
God, it ade me tremble so! He slowed down, closed
his eyes and sank upon me. He wallowed in my arms
and legs, panting in profound ravishment. This, a
man enjoys so very much especially after he has shot
a woman full of his nectra-like fluid.

Roland did not have a better spend than I, nor
did he enjoy the feast as much as I. ow could he?

I experienced ten of the most heavenly and satisfy-
ing spends that I have ever had.

I lay there cuddling him in my nude arms and
body, with his big, fat, bobbing cock still buried in
me.

We were thus, both enjoying the aftermath of this
delicious fucking.

Fo rover an hour we played with each other’s fin-
eries. Roland sucked my firm nipples until I was
tempted to ride again with his big, fat jock stuffed
snugly between my plump thighs.

To excite my lover to another erection I toyed and
fingered his enormous bag, digging my fingers into
the sensitive nerve roots. I stimulated his imagina-
tion with vivid, enticingly lewd word-pictures of the
fucking affairs that lie before us. I also described to
him how irresistably desirable I would always keep
uH self in the future.

it was then that I had begun to study him more
carefully. I wanted to understand him perfectly; his
every sexual desire as well as the exact extent and
strength of his libidinous nature. I guess I did this
for some very good but Indistinct reason . . . maybe
it was because I once heard my aunt say that the best
and only way to hold a man was by his prick, or
someting to tha teffect. At any rate I was determined
to discover for myself how and when he wanted his
cunt. With all my mind, will all my soul, with all my
heart, and with all my cunt I was desirous of holding
my cherry-smasher . . . wasn’t he the one experi-
enced prick in a million?

I sought every artifice by which I could hold his
fancy and arouse his lustful emotions.

I concentrated my efforts then on making his in-
dulgense in my arms as highly seasoned with sensa-
tional spiciness as my immature knowledge would
permit. I put his, still sofft, knob in my pussie. Soon
life flowed into it. The once soft head, which was
now sheathed deeply into my vent was again begin-
ning to throb and bob. It wasn’t long until it stiffened
to its original bigness.

To feel a man’s cock expand within you and grow
stiff is a most unusual sensation. Its slow, but steady
widening in my vaginal walls made me burn with a
fever to fuck. Lord! but I was aching to jazz some
more! I had become so randy that I bit his face and
chewed his tongue.

Roland did not mount me as he did previously, in-
stead we remained lying on our sides in such a posi-
tion that he could conveniently play with by baby-
skinned thighs and fat rund bottom. He watched my
pussie as it swallowed his enormous, fat dick. The
screwing which immediately followed, was an unfor-
gettably voluptuous one. He kissed my lips and
sucked my titties as he pumped his steaming hot jock
into my welcoming womb.

This was another occasion when I spent many
times before he painted my uterine walls with his hot
jets. How wonderful it was to once more feel the full
force of his juice-sprayer. Unrelentlessly it pumped
his hot balsamic load into me. He wallowed in my
cunnie after each spasmodic jet of hot sperm was
ejected and delighted:

“You delicious cunt! I could fuck you forever . . .
God! but it feels! good!”

My nippers operated perfectly on his shooting
prick. Soon they had extracted all the juice of this
come.

My pulsating quim could no longer retain its glor-
ious glue and I too spend with much fury. Our
emissions thus mixed as I had extracted his last
drops with my pussie’s pliers.

We sank into a delicious oblivion, then we pre-
pared ourselves for our return trip.

During the entire journey home, he coddled me
in his arms and breathed many billing expressions
into my ears. He also spoke of the promised trip
abroad, London and Paris. With such beautiful
words he embroidered these places that it appeared
to me that we were to, in reality, embark on a voy-
age to an earthly Paradise.

We reached home about ten-thirty that evening,
sealing one of the most heavenly episodes of my life.

Aunt Stella was anxiously awaiting my return. I
introduced Roland to her. I assumed that her eager-
ness for me to arrive home was not one that was
founded on worry for my safety, but a strong curi-
osity to know how my experience turned out and to
learn the answers to the usual barrage of questions,
such as: “How did you like it? Did it feel good? How
did his thing look? Was it nice and big? How long
did you go? How many times did you come?” and
etc.

I perceived Roland gloating over the voluptuous
charms of my would-have-loved-to-jazz-him aunt.
At least that is what her eyes bespoke.

Men are funny creatures, aren’t they? As soon
as they exhaust themselves fucking one woman . . .
as early as five minutes later they want to screw an-
other dress covered, well set, ass and bubbied torso.

To themselves they say: “Gosh, but I like to try
that . . . I’ll bet she’d make some hot jazz!”

Some women are that same way about men. They
too want to screw every handsome man that appears
to have a big thing in hljTpnts in spite of almost be-
ing fucked to a heavenly death a few moments be-
fore. I, for one, belong to that group.

Roland didn’t suspect it, but on my way home
every man I saw I wondered how big his concealed
meat-stick might be.

“Was it as big as the cop’s club,” I would ask my-
self, referring to the one that clots about the corner
of 42nd Str and Broadway.

The club idea was beginning to grow from a hu-
morous illusion to an actual desire. I decided that
someday I would make it a point to find one that big,
even if I had to open my legs beneath a burrow and
let hi mbury his gigantic article in me till it reached
my throat. The thought of jazzing a burrow was an-
other one of my ideas of humor. At that time I
thought such a union was impossible .. . but it wasn’t
long before I learned how populaar it really was.
As I understand it, that is, the only way a forty-year-
old whore can be appeased sexually.

Really 1 couldn’t very well blame Roland for shin-
ing that want-to-jazz-you light in his eyes. The way
Aunt Stella was clad was sufficient to warrant this
desire. She wore a transparent kimona which dar-
ingly revealed every feature, including her attractive
mossy patch . . . only this prevented Roland from
seeing the happy lips of her I4ove-the-pricks cunnie.

If I were