Anonymous - Pauline

That day there was another, even stranger banquet, though it was a spermatic one. Our friends had prepared a lunch and had hidden it in the thick wood. Leading me to the lake where we enjoyed a refreshing bath, my friend and I slipped away into the forest. This, she said, was to be a more elaborate affair. In the little love bower we found four of the handsomest men I had ever seen-one of which was Ferry-and six women.

You recall the party we had given Ferry just before we departed from Pest? And how I got the good-looking young man for him? Well, this was another party just like it, only instead of two men, there were four.

"We are leaving in a few days,” Ferry said, drawing me down by his side and kissing me, “and this is in our honor. Today we abandon ourselves as we like. See!” and even as he explained, a handsome fellow leaned down and took the head of Ferry's cock between his lips and sucked it! The others crowded about us. One handsome fellow knelt directly behind us, his erect cock sticking up at a rakish angle between our shoulders. Ferry raised his hand and clasped it, worked it up and down. “I suppose you'll hate me,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion, but I can't help it! For years I've wanted it, and today I'll have my fill if I die for it!” and without another word he turned his head and took the head of the other's erect cock into his mouth, allowing the man to push it in!

Fascinated, I watched the strange sight. Ferry, his eyes half-closed, abandoned himself to his newfound pleasure. I heard him moan, saw him move his lips. He was pouring his hot fluid into the mouth of the sucker before him! I saw the other move his hips back and forth, saw him place his hand upon Ferry's head. I thrilled as I realized he, in turn, was filling my lover's mouth with a prolific dose of his spicy jism.

What more is there to tell, my friend? You have been a member of many such affairs-you told me so with your own lips-so you must know what goes on. Enough to say that we gave ourselves up to every possible sort of pleasure; we girls sucked each other, and then we sucked the men. The men sucked each other's cocks, and we were fucked in every conceivable position.

We were out of sight of our friends; no one knew where we were, so Ferry and I enjoyed ourselves to the fullest. A few days later, we departed. Dressed in the clothes we had worn to that bandit camp, we started the return journey. Standing, at last, on the edge of the little river, I gazed down into the cool black depths. Then I smilingly stepped in. Coming to where it was too deep to walk any further, I gave myself into Ferry's hands and he swam the short distance with me. Standing on the opposite bank, we waved farewell to our friends and then went our way. I never saw any of them again, though I have often wished that I might enjoy another week in their midst.

Ferry and I talked of the delightful times we had enjoyed with his friends and we fully intended returning to them for another and far more lengthy visit, but events that followed made it impossible for us to do so.

I now needed to turn my thoughts to my work. I joined a company of singers touring the country and bid farewell to Ferry. It wasn't supposed to be farewell forever; it was simply that he had been unexpectedly called to America where he had many interests. But, alas, I never saw him again.

Shortly after his arrival in the distant country, I received word of his demise, and with it came the news that I had inherited his vast wealth. I'm afraid I failed in my work after that; his loss was, I thought, greater than I could bear.

I promised myself that I would be true to Ferry's memory, that I would never allow another man to have me, but how weak we women are.

Then came even sadder news. Both my mother and father had been killed, and this so upset me I decided to travel. I booked passage to Italy. I had always wanted to visit Florence, and there I went. By traveling across Bulgaria, Serbia, and Albania, I gained the coast, and from there, I sailed across the Adriatic Sea.

I had been there but a few days, however, when I was overtaken with an urge to again taste bliss in the arms of another woman, and, since Italy is noted for its tribades, I had little trouble finding a pretty and shapely girl. But this just added to my urge for a man. I left Florence and journeyed south through Italy.

In Rome, during one of my many visits to the coliseum, I was approached by a man. Like myself, he was a stranger, touring about the country. In spite of the fact that the man was nearly fifty years old, I found him handsome and intelligent. Indeed, he didn't look a day over thirty-five, and I found myself delighting in his company.

Perhaps it was due to my thoughts of the coliseum and the wonderful amphitheater, now gone, in which the famous games took place. I love history and I used to dwell for hours at a time on the wonderful things that happened in these historic structures, and many times, I pictured myself walking naked among them.

This man, whose name was Sir Ethelred Merwyn, told me many strange tales about the feasts and other events which took place within the walls of the crumbling edifices, and I was suddenly taken with the idea that I would like to know the man better. Having been so long without a lover, my mind was easily influenced. And so I set about luring this man to my arms. I invited him to my hotel for dinner, and we enjoyed ourselves to repletion.

Every day we went somewhere. Then, when it seemed I could no longer stand it, I invited him to my apartment. I told him I felt dreadfully indisposed and would appreciate it if he would dine with me there. He did this, and I thrilled as I caught him viewing my thinly clad body, for I wore but precious little beneath my lacy dressing gown.

I continued to feign illness, and invited him to have dinner with me the following night. Again I flirted with him, growing less and less careful about hiding my charms. But a peep at my knee, a dexterous swish of my skirt which revealed a patch of white thigh, or a scant view of one nude breast failed to thaw out the man.

This was Saturday night. As he left me, I made him promise to call early the following day. He must have dinner and lunch with me, I said. About noon, he arrived. He suggested a ride, but I declined; I wanted a different sort of ride than the one he proposed.

We spent hours talking, and it was late in the afternoon before I succeeded in getting his mind on something else. I finally turned to the subject of women, and this we discussed at great length. He spoke of the different nationalities, pointing out the good and bad points.

"You are very beautiful,” he said, “though I favor the French women."

"Why?” I asked. It was a direct question.

"Because,” he said, “the French, as a whole, are the most beautiful in the world. Their habits are more correct, and they are best fitted to wear the conventional dress of the country."

He said many more things about the French women, all complimentary.

"You are mistaken about their dress,” I said by way of getting to the point. “I have seen other women wearing dress the French women would never dare to wear; their bodies are hardly suited for the extreme in decollete dresses."

"You speak as though you are well versed on the subject."

"I am,” I said. “I myself have worn dresses no French woman would dare wear. Not only their breasts, but their legs, too, are hardly suited to the extreme in undress."

I saw him give a start at this broad statement. We argued back and forth, and finally I said, “I have many gowns here with me, and I will wager you that a German woman-myself, if you please-can wear the ultra in undress and still look acceptable."

This seemed to have the desired result, for he said, “You are making a rash wager, my dear young lady."