Anonymous - Eveline

His foot was pushed a little closer-very perceptible was the touch. He never ceased gloating on my person. My gloves evidently had an especial attraction for him. Meanwhile, I looked him well over. He was certainly a fine man. He roused my emotions. I permitted his foot to remain in contact with my boot. I even moved it past his, so that my ankle touched his. His face worked nervously. Poor man, no wonder! He gave me a searching look. Our glances met. He pressed my leg between his own. His fingers were trembling with that undefined longing for contact with the object of desire I so well understood. I smiled.

"You seem very fond of the ladies."

I said it boldly, with a familiar meaning he could not fail to understand. I glanced at his leather bag in the rack above.

"I cannot deny the soft impeachment. I am. Especially when they are young and beautiful."

"Oh, you men! You are dreadfully wicked. What would Mrs. Turner say to that?"

I laughed. He stared with evident alarm. It was a bold stroke. I risked it. Either way I lost nothing.

"How do you know I am married?"

My shaft had gone home. He had actually missed the first evident fact. He picked it up, however, quickly, before I could reply.

"It appears you know me. You know my name."

"Well, yes. You see I am not blind."

I pointed to the label on the bag above his head. It was his turn to laugh.

"Ah! You have me there! What a terribly observant young lady you must be."

He seized my hand before I could regain my attitude. He pressed it in both his own.

"You will not like me any the less-will you? I thought we were going to be so friendly."

"On the contrary-they say married men are the best."

Up to this point, my effrontery had led him on. He must have felt he was on safe ground. My last remark was hardly even equivocal. He evidently took it as it was intended. I was equally excited. The man and the opportunity tempted me on. I wanted him. I was delighted with his embarrassment-with his fast increasing assurance. I made no attempt to withdraw my hand. He crossed over. He occupied the seat beside me. My gloved hand remained in his.

"I am so glad you think so. You do not know how charming I think you. Married men ought to be good judges, you know."

"I suppose so. I rather prefer them."

I looked in his face and laughed as I uttered the words. He brought his very close. He passed his left arm round my waist. I made no resistance. The carriage gave a sympathetic jerk as it rushed along. Our faces touched. His lips were in contact with mine. It was quite accidental, of course, the line is so badly laid. We kissed.

"Oh, you are nice! How pretty you are."

He pressed his hot lips again to mine. I thought of the sight I had seen on the bathing machine. My blood boiled. I half closed my eyes. I let him keep his mouth upon mine. He pressed me to him. He drew my light form to his stout and well-built frame as in a vice.

I put my right foot up on the opposite seat. He glared at the pretty tight little kid boot. He was evidently much agitated.

"Ah! What a lovely foot!"

He touched it with his hand. His fingers ran over the soft pale cream-colored leather. I wore a pair of papa's prime favorites. He did not stop there. The trembling hand passed on to my stocking, advancing by stealthy degrees. It was then he tried to push forward the tip of his tongue.

"How beautiful you are and how gentle and kind!"

His arm enfolded me still closer, my bosom pressed his shoulder. His hand pressed further and further up my stocking. I closed my knees resolutely. I gave a hurried glance around.

"Are we quite safe here, do you think?"

"Quite safe, and, as you see, quite alone."

Our lips met again. This time I kissed him boldly. The tip of his active tongue inserted itself between my moist lips.

"Ah! How lovely you are! How gloriously pretty!"

"Hush! They might hear us in the next carriage. I am frightened."

"You are deliciously sweet. I long for you dreadfully."

Mr. Turner's hand continued its efforts towards my knees. I relaxed my pressure a little. He reached my garters above them. In doing so he uncovered my ankles. He feasted his eyes on my calves daintily set off in openwork stockings of a delicate shade of pale brown.

"Oh, you are too bad, really! I ought not to let you do that-no, really! Pray do not do so-oh!"

It was a delicious game of seduction. I enjoyed his lecherous touches. He was constantly becoming more confident of his sudden and uncontrollable passion. He strained me to him. His breath came quick and sweet upon my face. I lusted for this man's embrace beyond all power of language to convey. His warm hand reached my plump thigh. I made pretense to prevent his advance.

"Pray-oh, pray do not do that! Oh!"

A sudden jerk as we apparently sped over some points. I relaxed my resistance a trifle. He took instant advantage of the movement. His finger was on the most sensitive part of my private parts. It pressed upon my clitoris. I felt the little thing stiffen, swell and throb under the touch of a man's hand. His excitement increased. He drew me even closer. He pressed my warm body to his. His kisses, hot and voluptuous, covered my face and neck.

"How divinely sweet you are! The perfume of your lovely breath is so rapturously nice. Do let me-do-do! I love you so!"

He held me tight with his left arm. He had withdrawn his right. I was conscious he was undoing his trousers. He had left my skirts in disorder. I saw him pull aside his protruding shirt. I secretly watched his movements out of a corner of my eye while he kept my face close to his. Then appeared all that I had seen on the bathing machine, but standing fiercely erect, red-headed and formidable-a huge limb. He thrust it into full view.

"My darling! My beauty! See this! See! See to what a state you have driven me. You will let me-won't you?"

"Oh, for shame! Let me go-pray do not do that-you must not. Your finger hurts. Don't-pray don't! Oh, dear! Oh! Oh!"

The jolting of the carriage favored his operations. His hand was again between my thighs. His second finger pressed my throbbing button. My parts were bedewed with the fluid begotten by desire. He was inspecting the premises before taking possession. I only hoped he would not find the accommodation insufficient for so large a tenant.

"Oh, pray don't! Oh, goodness! What a man you are!"

With a sudden movement, he slipped round upon his knees, passing one of my legs over his left arm and thus thrust me back on the soft spring seat of the carriage. He threw up my clothes. He was between my thighs. My belly and private parts were exposed to his lascivious operations. I looked over my dress as I attempted to right myself. I saw him kneeling before me in the most indelicate position. His trousers were open. His huge privates stood menacingly before my eyes. He had so far loosened his clothing that his testicles were out. His belly was covered with crisp black hair. I saw all in that quick feverish glance. I saw the dull red head of his big limb drawn downward by the little string as it faced me, and the slit-like opening through which the men spurt their white venom.

He audaciously took my hand, gloved as it was, and placed it upon his member. It was hard and rigid as wood.

"Feel that-dear girl! Do not be frightened. I will not hurt you. Feel-feel my prick!"

He drew me forward. I felt him as requested. I had ceased all resistance. My willing little hand clasped the immense instrument he called his "prick."

"Now put it there yourself, little girl. It is longing to be into you."

"Oh-my good heavens! It will never go in! You will kill me!"

Nevertheless I assisted him to his enjoyment. I put the nut between the nether lips. He pushed while firmly holding me by both hips. My parts relaxed-my vagina adapted itself, as I had been told it could, without injury to the most formidable of male organs. The huge thing entered me. He thrust in fierce earnest. He got it fairly in.