Anonymous - The simple tale of Susan Aked

'What are the nutcrackers, Lucia?' said I gasping for breath. My heart was in my throat with the emotion her description had raised.

'The nutcrackers, darling,' said she, 'are when your cunnie grasps his prick, as it were, like this,' she continued, taking my wrist in her hand, and clasping it at intervals of time with her forefinger and thumb. 'It must be the muscles about the narrow entrance that do it, for my lovers always tell me that they feel the tightening of my cunt about two inches up from their balls, and only there.'

'I say, Lucia!'

'What, darling?'

'Do you know by what geographical expression our cunts ought to be called?'

'No. What do you mean?' said Lucia, laughing.

'Why, the Red Sea to be sure! Just inside the lips should be the Gulf of Aden, where it is pretty wide; the narrows should be the Bab-el-Mandeb Straits; and the rest the Red Sea.'

'Capital, darling! I'll tell Gladys, who will laugh, I know. Now,' she continued, stroking my cunnie in a lively manner, 'now, open your thighs again, my own sweetest darling, dear Susan, and let me have you again.'

Nothing loth I did so, and soon Lucia was thrilling both herself and me with the pleasure her up and down strokes gave to each of us. At last she made me so tremendously excited that I could lie quiet no longer. I clasped her to my belly with all my might, and as, her cunnie swept down over mine, I gave a vigorous push up with mine. The result was delicious. Both Lucia and I gave vent to a little cry of pleasure, for it so happened that her stiff little clitoris had just reached mine, and my push up made these delicate, charmingly sensitive, little organs penetrate, slightly indeed, but still penetrate, our respective cunnies. The immediate consequence was copious spendings on either side. Lucia kissed me frantically, gave up the sweeping movement, and pushed her cunt straight at mine. Our clitorises rubbed in a most ravishing manner, as we writhed and thrust, and thrust and writhed, and spent time after time, until fairly exhausted, the perspiration standing in little pearls on our foreheads, we relaxed our hold on one another, and Lucia, resuming her place by my side, lay panting, but quiet. At length she said, 'How Nature does teach, Susan!' 'Yes, dear,' said I, still struggling for breath, 'but how?' 'But how?' she cried. 'Listen to her. “But how?” Why, what made you give such a delicious buck, darling? It had not entered my head to tell you. I never did it with any girl, myself, and would not have believed it could been of any use had it been proposed. What made you do it?' 'Do you mean why did I push up?' 'Yes, why did you buck, as pushing up is called?' 'Buck rhymes with fuck, does it not, Lucia?' 'Of course, and cunt with hunt, prick with lick, balls with halls, bush with push, and so on, but what has that to do with your bucking, Susan?'

'I can't tell you, darling,' said I, kissing her, 'I only know I could not lie quiet any longer, and so I gave a buck up, like a horse does when his rider spurs him too much.'

'Well, Susan! I can only say that if ever a girl was created for the purpose of fucking, you are she. You seem to take to it like a babe does to its mother's breast. Ah! I do envy the fellows who will have you. I know right well they will think your cunt Heaven.' 'I don't know, Lucia! They may not like it at all.' 'Oh, won't they? A man likes a girl to show that he gives her pleasure. They don't like buck-jumping horses, but they do love a good bucking girl, and you do it as if you had been trained to it.' 'Well, no one trained me, Lucia, as you know, for I did not imagine any pleasure, such as you have given me, was ever to be extracted from my cunnie. But do you buck when a man is fucking you?'

'Oh yes, but there is an art in it.'

'How?'

'Well, you see, the object of bucking is to get in the very last quarter-inch of the fellow's prick, which would probably remain outside if you did not buck; to get a good strain onto his balls; to get a good squeeze together of your two mottes. All that adds to the pleasure for both of you. The time to buck is when you feel his balls begin to touch you, then begin a gentle upward stroke, or perhaps a kind of circular stroke, ending with a good bump against his motte. If you begin too soon, you hurry his stroke, a thing to be avoided because you make him spend too soon; the buck should, as I say, be so scientifically done as to complete the entire swallowing up of his prick in your cunnie!'

'I see. Now tell me, Lucia, if I have learnt the lesson right. When a man fucks you, he ought to get his prick in little by little?'

'Just so!'

'Then, after he has once got it in the whole way, he should draw it all but out, and then with one long sweeping stroke, bring it in right up to his balls?'

'Right up to his motte, darling, for his balls touch you first.'

Ah, yes, right up to his motte. Then he should go on so, until he begins to feel that he can no longer withhold his spend, and then he is to fuck like fury.'

'Just so-like fury,' repeated Lucia, laughing and kissing me.

'Well then! Should I buck like fury too?'

'No, because, unless you kept exact time, you might throw him off his stroke. The best way, then, is to raise your hips as much as possible, and, so to say, give him your cunt more freely than ever. When you feel him spending, clasp your thighs round him. Press him to your bubbies and belly, bite and kiss him, and let him feel that you are as much in heaven as he is.'

'Ah, I see!'

'There is another thing you might do which is not bad. When you feel him spending, shake him well, by alternately and quickly drawing up each foot and thrusting it out straight again. Get onto me and I will show you how, darling!'

I got between Lucia's thighs and pressed my cunnie to hers. I could not resist giving her some strokes with mine, so our mutual fury recommenced, but the roles were altered. At first Lucia responded to my thrusts by vigorous pushes; at last she held me tight, so that our cunts exactly covered one another, and our clitorises were side by side, and then, drawing up one knee, she suddenly straightened it again, at the same time drawing up the other and again straightening it. This she continued until we were simply smothered with spend. It was exquisite, for our cunts seemed to open and swallow one another, our clitorises rubbed against one another and when we left off, we found it impossible to lie in such a wet bed. We got up, washed our cunnies, mottes and thighs, and then we walked, naked as we were, to her room, where we got into her cool, clean, dry bed, leaving mine to dry as best it could. Then Lucia said, 'Susan, darling! There is only one serious drawback to fucking, and that is its extreme danger!'

'Danger?' I echoed. 'What danger, Lucia?'

'Babies!' she said.

'Babies!'

'Yes, babies! You see, darling, when a man spends in us, he shoots into us enough stuff to make thousands of babies if, like fishes, we were capable of producing thousands of eggs at one time.'

'Eggs! Lucia! What are you talking of?'

'Facts, Susan! Solid, sober facts, of which I must tell you too, and which you must remember, and be well on your guard always.'

'Oh, Lucia!' I cried. 'Is that really true? Don't humbug me, darling! If there is one thing I have longed to know about, it is how babies are born. I, of course, could not be so entirely ignorant, but that I knew that a baby proceeds from its mother. The Bible tells us that much. I guessed, too, that something mysterious happened between husband and wife whereby a baby was manufactured, but I had really no idea of fucking! I had no idea that my cunnie was anything more than an accident of nature. The truth is that since you have taught me these exquisite pleasures, the real facts have begun to dawn upon me; but even now I am ignorant of why fucking should produce babies, and you astonish me still more by speaking of eggs! Are women hens, then? When do they lay eggs? Tell me! I am dying to know, if only from a scientific point of view. Tell me, darling!' and I kissed Lucia again and again, as if to coax her to tell me a secret she was really quite as anxious to impart to me as I was to hear it; only, in my eagerness, I forgot that one who had been so free from all restraint, both of action and word, with me would not be like my mother, who used to tell me I was too young to understand whenever I approached her as to this thorny, or perhaps I might more appropriately say this 'prickly' subject of creation.