Ramrod: A nocturnal meeting

The episode I am about to relate happened when I was still a very young man, not over-expert in the pursuit and methods of amorous pleasure, and with my tastes still crude and my powers only suspected and quite undeveloped. True, I had made acquaintance with the mysteries of the female form by the medium of an occasional rough and tumble with one of the maids, and later had been promoted to the dignity of rogering a willing friend of my sister's, but these damsels were all plain, not fancy, fuckers and had no idea of employing anything but a naked cunt for the delights of fornication. They seemed perfectly satisfied with a straightforward hump, and would certainly have been horrorstricken at the suggestion of those amenities in which I afterwards became a connoisseur.

My first awakening to the extended possibilities of coition came in this wise. Passing one night along a rather unfrequented thoroughfare I was fortunate enough to rescue two ladies from the grasp of a couple of roughs who had bailed them up intent on plunder. A quick dash and a hurried blow or two sent them off in a flurry and I turned to reassure the distressed beauties. One was a lady of ripe charms, with flowing figure and a face still handsome and attractive. The other was a charming girl of about nineteen, who proved to be her daughter. The elder woman, still well under forty, looked desirable enough to give any fellow a satisfactory cockstand.

They were profuse in their gratitude, not the less probably because they noticed I was young, scarcely more than a boy, and, as they were good enough inform me afterwards, by no means bad-looking. They suggested I should accompany them home, which of course I was nothing loth to do. No young fellow dislikes being petted and made much of by a couple of amiable women. I hadn't the least idea, however, of the good fortune that awaited me.

When we arrived at the house, they would not hear of my leaving without entering. It was evident from the interior they were in easy circumstances and I ascertained they were the only occupants, except for the servants. Once inside, Mrs. Aintree, as I will call her, embraced me warmly, kissed me repeatedly, and exclaimed, 'How can I thank you, my dear Mr. Temple' (we had exchanged names on the way). 'You have saved us from being robbed and probably worse. We were too terrified by those hooligans to scream, for I feared if we did the brutes would knock us about, and very likely after they had plundered us we should have been thrown on our backs and ravished. Oh, to think of being mauled by those ruffians!' The good lady shuddered, but somehow I already had a faint suspicion it was not the idea of being fucked out of hand she objected to so much as the fucksters.

In the full light I could better appraise the charms of my new friends. It certainly did not conduce to a feeling of monastic calm on my part to have a full, voluptuous bust pressed warmly against me or to perceive, when my arm went involuntarily round her waist, one leg gripped between a pair of solid thighs, and behind them a big, soft bottom. Nor was it likely to lead to excessive self-control to notice a handsome, well-built girl standing by with moist eyes, coral lips and flushed face, evidently highly approving and enjoying her mother's abandon. I, of course, modestly disclaimed having done anything in particular, and airily asserted those sort of fellows were ready enough to tackle lonely women but not a resolute man.

'That's all very well, but you know as well as I do they often carry knives or other weapons, and they might have used them if you hadn't been so quick. My goodness, Ethel, did you hear the sound when Mr.

Temple-by the way what is your Christian name… Harry, is it?-struck that rascal. I shouldn't like to have got the blow. And I could have laughed but for my fright when you caught the other fellow with your toe as he turned to run away. I hope he'll be sore after it. How strong you are, Harry, for Harry you must be to us-we feel quite like old friends already-what muscular arms' (feeling them admiringly). 'And a nice looking boy, too, not much older than Ethel… yum… yum' (more kissing).

The moist, salacious lips gave me an indescribable emotion, and I feared that tangible evidence of its intensity would be only too manifest if this went on. I know I blushed and the widow tapped my cheeks, laid her own against them, and rubbed them softly in a most endearing way, calling her daughter's attention at the same time to my confusion. Then to my relief she pushed me into a chair and, with Ethel, busied herself setting out some refreshments. This done she asked me to excuse her while she changed her dress (for the hot night and the emotion of her adventure made her long to escape from her tightfitting garments), called Ethel to the door and exchanged a few words outside.

As I learned later what she said was: 'Ethel, my dear, we mustn't let him go. He is too young and good-looking to part with so easily. I don't think, from his blushes, he knows much about women, and we will give him a treat. But go modestly at first till we find whether he is of randy disposition or not, and if he is…' She licked her lips significantly, squeezed her daughter's motte, and disappeared.

Ethel came back and without ceremony seated herself on my knees and pressed her lips to mine. 'Mamma has thanked you, and I can't do better to show you I am grateful, too, than follow her example.' She sat right up to my prick, which had long been in a state of repressed exaltation, and I could feel her plump bottom deliberately pressing upon it. Miss Ethel, from her weight, was evidently a solid-framed girl, and bade fair ultimately to rival, if not exceed, her mother's voluptuous proportions. I made free to squeeze her resilient bosoms, and was not repulsed. I returned her kisses with interest, and got the tip of her tongue slily inserted in my mouth as reward. Encouraged by this very loose conduct on the young lady's part, I was just about to have a grope-and Ethel seeing my design had thrown herself back to favour it when Mrs. Aintree, or Rose as she presently asked me to call her, returned. She was clad in a long wrapper, and had discarded corset and most of her undergarments to judge by the liberal curves now revealed.

'A charming picture-youth and beauty on both sides. That's right, Ethel-cuddle the dear lad. He deserves it.' She filled bumpers of wine and we all drank heartily. Rose filled my glass again, insisting that a man must want more than a woman. I easily guessed her intention was to excite me, and a glimmering of the truth dawned upon me, but I had, as yet, no idea of the depth of the plot hatched at the door a few moments before.

'Now, Ethel, run and remove your dress, too. I am sure you must be hot.' Ethel went off and her mother promptly took her place. A great soft mass of flesh pressed on my thighs, and spread out over each side of them. The insidious kisses rained upon me once more, and I could not help handling and then slily pinching the tempting arse. Rose smiled, lifted my hand, kissed it and put it in her bosom.

'There, dear, you may caress me freely; you will make me very happy and Ethel, too. Do you know, you rogue, somehow I feel if it had been you instead of those street vagabonds who had tried to take liberties with me I shouldn't have been able, or inclined, to offer much resistance. There is such a difference, you see, between a handsome young gentleman and scum like that.' Thereupon I made bold to open the wrapper and gaze upon the magnificent bubbies over which my hand had been delightedly wandering. They poured out, full, warm, luscious and tantalising, and I buried my face furiously in the glowing flesh. A pair of fairly large but shapely teats surmounted the white orbs, and I sucked them greedily.