Anonymous - Pauline

That said, I relaxed, determined to fully enjoy what I knew would be a delightful encounter.

I was not disappointed! Her talented tongue made broad sweeping circles about my love lips. My eager flesh tingled with anticipation as she tightened the circuitous path that led to my innermost center of joy. Her tongue hardened to a point as she neared that moist, pink tunnel that beckoned her further in and down. She stabbed wildly at my opening, plunging within to the depths. She dragged her sodden tongue out of my throbbing slit and swiped it across my upstanding clit. I cried out with joy as the magic button was pushed. Her lips fastened onto the ever-rising sentinel of joy. She greedily sucked upon the stiff bit of flesh while her hands stole beneath my body. Clenching my bottom-cheeks in her clasping hands, she spread apart the globes of flesh. In a flash, she lifted my legs over her shoulders, rocking my body back so that I rested more upon my shoulders than upon my back. The way opened, she probed with her tongue into my smaller, tightly clenched hole. At the feel of her warm, wet tongue tip, I let my body relax, allowing passage of her slightly rough tongue. The narrowed tip slipped inside, delving into that dark chamber. She eased me back down; her eager lips once again fastening upon my clit. But my bottom-hole wasn't to escape her attentions completely. As she sucked my aching clit deeper into her mouth, teasingly biting the sensitive flesh, one of her fingers stole back to that tight, sensitive opening. The way having been already paved by her wet tongue, her questing digit slipped in up to her knuckle. Letting go of my clit, she plunged her tongue once again into my now sopping-wet pussy. She noisily slurped up my bountiful fluids, savoring the hot, wet flavor of it as her finger frantically fucked by bottom-hole. As the crisis overtook me, I heard the sounds all around me of other girls engaging in the arts of Lesbos. The sounds of passion surrounding me, and the double-barreled assault I was being subjected to, culminated in an earth-shattering orgasm. I sobbed out my joy, adding to the vocal chaos that reigned in that passion-filled room.

I awoke, not realizing that I had collapsed in a passion-clouded daze, to see my partner hovering over me, caressing my painfully erect nipples in her ever-hungry mouth. I shook my head to clear away the climactic fog that had enveloped me, determined to wrestle my partner to the floor in order that I might give as good as I had received.

After that, things happened with such rapidity that it was difficult to memorize them. Suffice it to say that before we slept, I had the fun of gamahuching every girl there. By the time I got to have the famous cunny-lover, I guess she got rather a dry kiss; I know she had little to offer my willing lips.

And that night, I was to learn something else about what went on at these orgies. It is a known fact that flesh and blood can stand just so much and after that, some extra stimulant is necessary. In this case, it was the birch rod. Never having heard of anything like this, I was rather surprised. Our hostess, however, seeing that I was the novice of the party, took it upon herself to explain the whole thing, hinting in no uncertain terms that I was to be the victim of their lust. I was somewhat startled at this bit of news. However, I knew better than to decline; I was in their hands, and I felt I had best submit to this indignity, even though it did hurt.

It's a very strange thing, my friend, how quickly one can bring him or herself to liking a thing like that. I wasn't the only one whipped that night. I learned, to my surprise, that many of these girls really delighted in being stripped naked and whipped on various parts of their bodies; I learned, too, that there was really something in it. Why a person could possibly have a desire to be whipped was, until that time, something of a mystery to me.

I realized, however, that the birch rod in the hands of a skilled practitioner of the art can produce an almost unheard-of pleasure-at least I found it so in my case. At first it hurt dreadfully, of course, but in a few moments it ceased to hurt so much. I felt I was being cut to ribbons; I was sure my back, bottom, and legs must be laid open with cuts, but nothing of the sort happened at all. I did have a few ridges the next day, but these soon healed and I felt not the slightest effects of it. Believe it or not, my dear friend, but I had come to like it.

Again, I am not going to tire you with a recital of all the things we did that night; if I did, I would be but repeating myself, and that you would not wish. You are well informed as to what goes on at a party of this sort, I know, so there is little to add. Enough to say that I was initiated into the gentle art of eating and drinking from a girl's cunny, bonbons and wine being the goodies in question.

Isn't it strange, my dear, the odd things one will think of when in the passionate embrace of a loved one? I recall such an incident. One of these girls seemed prettier to me than any other. She was the proud possessor of an unusually well formed bottom. The cheeks were round and plump and as smooth as ivory, and somehow I couldn't resist the temptation of covering them with kisses. She had evidently been operated on in this manner by our prima donna, for as soon as I made known my desire, she promptly offered the choice morsel to my lips, even holding the cheeks apart that I might more easily reach that which lay buried within. I trust that my own talent in that field didn't disappoint her.

Does the story so far convey to you just what sort of a life I was leading? And do these lines portray something of my own lascivious nature? Write me and let me know your true reaction.

Had it not been for these parties consisting of charming, pussy-loving women, I am sure, with my lascivious temperament, I would have fallen an easy victim to some unworthy man.

I learned among other things that many men kept as mistresses young girls, and that Eve-that being the name of the bold woman from the party-was kept by a wealthy man, though she spent much of her time at the home of an aged uncle.

I learned, too, that there is no end to the strange things a man will request of his mistress, be she permanent or a casual “pick-up,” and in a few moments I am going to tell you of an experience I had with one of these.

But before going into that, let me tell you of my success-I like to dwell upon that. Shortly after the event recorded above, I had an opportunity to become understudy to a famous singer of that day.

She was getting along in years, and through the influence of our prima donna, I managed to get into the show in which she was starring. This particular woman had been in the habit of having fainting fits; also, as I have already stated, she was getting along in years. She treated me very kindly from the very first. There was considerable study ahead for me, but I pitched into it with a vengeance, and I am proud to say that it was this chance that gave me my opportunity to go to the top.

As is customary for one in a like position, I was offered all sorts of opportunities to indulge my passion, many of these offers coming from aged men. True, I had had love affairs with various men, but they had been of a platonic nature and nothing came them. Also, I managed to find a girl here and there who liked to be sucked off, so you see I had little or nothing to worry about.

I recall one man among the others to whom I took rather a shine. Like many of the others, he was wealthy. He gave me wonderful presents, and though he coaxed me for favors, I always refused. I can't say, though, that I did not think favorably of him. Almost every girl had a lover; but when they talked of them among themselves, I only listened. Had this man pressed the least bit in making his desires known, I would have fallen an easy victim. Of this I am sure.