Anonymous - Muriel

'My dear', she said with deep concern and led me naked as we were along the landing to a bedroom which from its ornate furnishings, its mirrors and its lovely drapes I knew must be the one they shared. There I permitted her to pull me down upon the bed. She kissed my tears away and smoothed my hair.-'Was it so nice for you, or has it really been so long since you were threaded, Deirdre?', she asked gently, rolling her fleshy breasts to mine.

'I have sinned', I said, and sounded mournful at the least. I do not recall ever having said those words before. They are inimical to my nature, anyway. Were someone of a sensitive nature to read these words, they might well guess my state of mind. In having Maurice so suddenly upon me, and though I had much enjoyed his lusty cock, I had thought of Richard and had experienced once more the sense of true excitement blended into guilt.

'You have sinned? Have we then misunderstood you, dear? I did not mind at all, you silly thing. We do not fret at pleasure here, and nor must you'.

Her tongue was sweet, her eyes conveyed to mine a genuine desire to have me more amourously responsive than I was. And indeed now that we were alone again, belly to belly, thighs to thighs, I felt renewed stirrings in me, sought a curious protection in her arms and palmed her weighty bottom, felt it roll luxuriously and received her throaty chuckle in my mouth.

'Ah, now you are better, dear', she said, 'What was your upset? Was it because of Maude? I permit her certain things, I know. Perhaps I was too hasty. Was it that?'

'No, no, it was not quite, but evidently she dislikes me from the things she said'.

'Oh pouf! That was a tantrum only. You will soon see her in a different mood. Something else ails you, Deirdre, and I know it does. Confess to Eveline and you will feel the better for it. In my youth I cried sometimes', she added pensively, for frequently when seeking to know another's thoughts one wishes to express one's own, as if to say 'That happened to me, too!'

'I cannot tell you, Eveline'.

'Of course you can. It is something very naughty, is it not? Shall I tell you all the wicked things that I have done? Why, I could fill a book, my dear-and even Maude and the other girls have several chapters they could write. Are we not all cast in the same old mould? We Libertarians confess ourselves and feel the better for it. Maurice is the cockerel, my pet, and we the hens', she said and tickled me beneath my arms to bring my spirits back, which she succeeded in, for then I laughed and kissed her hugely, rubbed my bush to hers and savoured all the sensuousness of her full form.

I had done it with Richard, I said, amid a kiss, and said it hurriedly, excusingly. It burst out like a bubble from my mouth.

'Your son? Oho!', she laughed and rolled upon me, legs between my own. 'Your eyes are deep and lovely- do you know?', she asked playfully and rubbed her nose to mine, soothing her lovelips up against my own to afford me a swimmy sensation I could not resist.

'More than once', I said, and knew it for a sort of boast.

'If once were ever enough, Deirdre, we all would be half virgins, would we not? Is that your awful, secret sin? I have a score to match it, anyway. Does he do it to you nicely? Is he slow or quick? You have to tutor them, you know'.

'Oh, Eveline, really-stop it! Do you not really, really think it the most awful thing?'

'You are seeking reassurance, and you know it well, you minx. Are you not?', she asked me softly. Her lips slowly brushed my own, back-forth-back-forth-a quite delicious way to kiss.

'I suppose-but on the other hand', I mumbled.

'You can have it in either hand, dear', Eveline laughed, 'Come on, I'll make you come again, and then you'll change your mind on it. He must be good if Maurice made you think of it'.

'No, no, it wasn't that. Oh, Eveline, don't!'

Too late, too late. The bedsprings sang. We breathed into each other's mouth.

'You are a good fuck, darling, do not be ashamed of it. Cock has no conscience, neither have our quims', she mouthed. Then the sweet spillings overtook us once again. The lips of our cunnies splurged and kissed. Our bushes were sticky in a trice. The milk of love. How irresistible it is!

After we had long lain, kissed anew, she fetched our clothes, and asked, 'Do you feel better now that you have told me that?' Before I could reply-and really I did not know my own mind still-she went on, 'Darling, you must bring him here. One afternoon perhaps'.

'No, that would not be possible', I said, and wished devoutly I had not confessed.

'All things are possible, my love. We Libertarians do not put up bars against ourselves. Against outsiders often, yes, but not against ourselves. I count you one of us. Speak only here of love, desire. We hedonists must stick together, must we not?'

'You are incorrigible, Eveline!', I could not help but laugh.

'I always was. So, I suspect, were you. You only wish to have your sins confirmed. I know that feeling well enough. She who gives way to love gives way to life. Do not be broody. Take things as they come. There-what a splendid smile! You must come on Friday and meet Claudia'.

'And who is she?'

'A young actress-or would-be one. Her husband- a very likeable young rogue-wishes to see her being threaded. She will not, and does not know whether to play Miss Prim or Miss Improper. We shall see'.

'Eveline-you will not force her, surely?'

'Were you never forced, my dear? A little were you not? Never have your legs kicked? Were you not held down until the surging pleasure took you?' She looked straight into my eyes. Her nipples were still hard beneath her gown, as were my own. I imagined her for a moment biking thus in front of Phillip and could not prevent a smile.

'When one is young…', I said. My words fell limp.

'Claudia is twenty-three, my love. She flirts with the idea, though never would confess it. Some men call such women “cock-teasers”. We shall have rare sport-I can tell you that'.

I murmured something, but I know not what. I am being drawn into a whirlpool now. I know not whether to go on Friday or not. I may see myself in Claudia. Perhaps that's what I fear.

Sylvia's Day-Book

Papa is acting very strangely. Perhaps it is because he misses Mama, but I am not sure of that. He never mentions her to me, though asked a little dolefully whether I would go to Liverpool at Christmas. Such a problem that is for me! I do not think he likes my Aunties very much, but I do. Perhaps I shouldn't. They are very naughty with me sometimes, and especially in bed, but now that I am older I can be naughty, Aunty Muriel says. She told me that most ladies are, but they do not always show it to the world. One cannot always tell-that is the fun of it, she says. When they rub their things to mine, it feels so nice. I should not write that down, perhaps. I am sure Mama was never naughty, though.

Rose told me a most awful, naughty thing. She says that when she put Papa's napkin across his lap, she felt his thing and it was stiff! I did not tell her that he kissed me in the cupboard and that I felt it, too. Besides, it was probably only a big key. Aunty Jane asked me if he felt my bottom in the dark. I said, 'Oh no, of course not', but I don't remember now. It was too quick. I did not mind him kissing me. I used to sit upon his lap, but now he doesn't seem to like me doing that. I put black stockings on last night. I have new garters, too, and they are pink.

Aunt Jane said something rude about my pony. I never thought before of looking there. It is a very big one, though, and gets all leathery sometimes. 'It is Nature, do not be afraid of it', they said. The saddle rubs me in-between my legs and makes me feel all hot sometimes. Aunty Muriel says that is good for me and that I should keep my bottom moving back and forth like when she puts her tongue there underneath. Rose was in bed with them last night. I listened and I heard her moans. I am glad that she is naughty, just like me. I do not feel so bad about it now.