Anonymous - Midnight intimacies

“Not that time, darling, I was too intent on watching you to think of myself, but I know from the way that place in between my thighs feels with your dear sweet hard thing in it that it is going to have a very nice time all its own when you are ready to work it in and out of it again.”

Now he raised to look me over lying naked under him, and I asked him truly if he liked me. There could be no doubt of his love, in his innocent, boyish way for me from the warmth of his kisses. He happened to draw away a little to look down, and pushed in, discovering thus a way to produce pleasure in himself, and to begin his first fucking lesson. I encouraged him by whispering with intensity, — “Dear boy, do that-that's it- that's aw-ful nice, Oh, o-oh, d-o it fast-er, faster, oh, push, push hard-er, o-oh, cram me-hard, dig it right up me you dar-ling bo-y!” and my own unrestrained joyous cries now had mingled with his as we both drank of the intoxicating bliss, tightly clasping each other. I was overjoyed to feel his cock still stiff. I just held him to me telling him how he had given me the nicest, sweet-est feeling “down there", that I didn't know there was such happiness to be had in this world. It made him proudly happy to be told what his young cock had done for me. We lay and kissed, and his stiff cock resumed its pleasing work on my cunt.

This time it was longer, and the longer the more intense it seemed.

Once again we reached the pinnacle of human happiness at the same moment. And yet that young cock was stiff, I could feel it actually thicker in me than before, reaching much further in and his cramming was much fiercer and more prolonged. Now I helped him by raising my bottom up to meet him, holding my belly poised thus in the air, squirmed and wiggled it madly, let it fall, only to rise it up again.

I drew my thighs together to rub his cock more and grip his swinging balls that were smacking up against my bottom with his fierce lunges into me. I could now feel his round balls in the soft flesh of my thighs as I held him thus. He worked violently, as did I in an intensity of passion and lust for I wanted to subdue that strong little cock. I fucked him harder than I ever worked for a man or boy before. I could see the joy coining — I had spent once again on this trip, and now, intending to make his coming climax a supreme one I worked my cunt violently on his rork, sucking it tight — as tight as possible. When I saw the unfailing sign that the joy sting had struck I clasped him fiercely to me, and held him so hard that I know the strain would give him the fiercests kind of joy thrill, and thus the delirious end came again to both of us.

This time, Harold emitted a scream and moan after moan of “O-OH!” He tossed from side to side of my body, bounced up and down on me saying, “O-oh, M-is- Ma-r-y- I'm pee-ing again in-to y-o-u, OO, — OO!

Oh, how I held the dear, spending boy. to me, devouring him with ardent kisses, and telling him how sweetly he had made me feel again in between my thighs and all the way up my belly. I knew he'd soon cease to quivver, that soon his cock would cease to throb, so I held him to me hungrily, for I knew the nature of these dear sweet cocks, old or young.

After the recovery from the violence of his orgasm I turned to him and lifted myself from him to see his cock drop and roll to his pretty thigh as if so, so tired, and how wet and slippery it was! “So, dearie, you have become a man, with a man's cock, have you. See, Harold, your dear cock has been pouring out into my thing all the nice, white, thick milk, and that is what you felt coming from it when you thought it was only pee.”

“What is it, Miss Mary?” he asked, “Why, dear, it is the orgasm of love that is stored in these little balls in this smooth bag of yours. It doesn't form in boys until a certain age, and to day, they were ripe and just burst into me, flooding me pleasantly, and now you are my little man, my dear little boy-lover!” How I did smother him with kisses, laying over him but not on him, and smiled on him as played with my hanging titties free to his desires.

“What nice, round things these are, Miss Mary,” he said laying there under me and kissing them. I told him I was now just his “Darling Mary,” but that he should not forget the “Miss” in the presence of others.

“Now, Harold, we must bath our dearie and dress, so come with me.” I washed his cock and balls gently and dried it so carefully that it began to raise its pretty head, but I say, “No, sir, no more of you this time, some other day, soon, if you are good!” patting it and robbing it between the palms of my hands, then kissing it, and giving it one sweet but strong, powerful suck. “Dress is now the word, Harold dear,” I said.

Down stairs again, and some sweets to eat, a good night kiss with a promise to meet again soon, and I let my sweet boy-lover go home full of joy. I murmured to myself, that experience was well worth while, bless the dear boy, he will become a real, fine fucker with a six or seven inch cock when done growing.

Here Mary stopped her story to say to us “K's been perfectly delightful to lie here with you two, showing by your caresses and kisses that you both are fully responsive to the moods and incidents I real but we must now have a bite to eat and a bottle to drink — that will leave but little work, we will not put a single garment on and I will finish my story down stairs where it will be cooler, and you, Uncle Ro, can smoke, and we'll be near each other as well.”

After supper, Mary resumed her tale of love. After that first evening with Harold, at once a change for the better could be seen, he was more firm in his step, his voice took on more resonance, he could apply himself, and it was not long before he outstripped the entire school in the lucidity of his studies. His parents commented me, for the dear lad gave his “Miss Mary” the full credit of awakening his mind by her painstaking analysis until he could begin to do himself, and many a smile he won from me in school, telling me afterwards that those smiles were a beacon light to him.

The very next day after our evening, he came to school with me, meeting me on the street by waiting for me. I was pleased to note this mark of respect, and indeed I never had reason to be sorry for my faith and trust in him. Asking him how he felt he looked up at me with bright eyes and said “Dear Miss Mary, I feel like a young lion!”

“Say, rather, a young studhorse,” I said laughing, at which we both laughed and he squeezed my arm and said, “You're a dear, sweet woman.” Other girls met us and we all went along together, he falling back a step or two behind, showing he was very mindful not to attract any special attention to me. That same afternoon I took up my old position now purely for Harold's sake, knowing he would glory in the glimpses he could have up my skirts at the spot he loved so well.

Remember my desk facing the class was all enclosed, and I had pulled the drawers of the desk on that side all out so as to be screened from anyone who might enter the door. I now lay back in my chair a little, as class was about to be dismissed. I sat well forward on the edge of the chair, merely the top part of my bottom resting on it, the under cheeks being thus well brought forward and hanging in all the loveliness of their curves beneath the line of the chair. I put one foot on my knee and pulled my dress up, my thighs were thus well spread out and afforded a rich, uninterrupted of all my “womanhood.” I had not told Harold, but the dear boy had his eyes on me every move all day, so he was right in the scene when the curtain went up. Not a move or sound escaped him, but his eyes brightened, and he looked as furtively as the place and time required. I saw him looking, I dropped my foot, spread my legs and pulled my skirts up above my belly-button.