Anonymous - Eveline

"Oh! My God! I'm into you now! Oh! Oh! How delicious! Hold tight! Let me pull you down to me-so-oh! My God! How nice! How soft! How exquisite!"

I passed my left arm through the strap. My right clutched him round the neck. He put down his hand. He parted the strained lips round his huge intruding weapon. Then he seized me by the buttocks. He strained me towards him as he pushed. My head fell back-my lips parted. I felt his testicles rubbing close up between my legs. He was into me to the quick!

"Oh, dear! Dear! You are too rough! You hurt-you push too hard! My goodness me! How you are tearing me. Oh! Oh! Ah! It is too much! You darling man! Push! Push! Oh!"

It was too much pleasure. I threw my head back again. I grasped the cushions on either side. I could not speak. I could only gasp and whine now. I moved my head from side to side as he lay down on my belly and enjoyed me. His thing-stiff as a staff-worked up and down my vagina. I could feel the big plum-like gland pushed forcibly against my womb. I spent over and over again. I was in heaven.

He ground his teeth. He hissed. He lolled his head. He kissed me on the lips. He breathed hard and fast. His pleasure was delicious to witness.

"Oh! Oh! Hold tight, love. I am in an agony of pleasure. I–I-can't tell you! I-never-tasted-such delicious poking! Oh! Ugh!"

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! You are so large! So strong!"

"Don't move! Don't pinch my prick more than you can help, darling girl. Let us go on as long as possible. You are coming again. I can feel you squeezing me! Oh! Wait a moment-so-hold still!"

"Oh! I can feel it at my womb-you are up to my waist! Oh, dear! Oh! Oh! You are so stiff."

"I cannot hold much longer. I must spend soon!"

Bang! Bang!! Bang!!!

The train was passing over the points at Reigate. The alarm was sufficient to retard our climax. It acted as a check to his wild excitement-to the coming climax.

"Hold quite still, you sweet little beauty. We do not stop. The speed is quickening again. Now push! Push! Push! Is that nice? Do you like my big prick? Does it stir you up? You are right, my sweet. I can feel your little womb with the tip."

He assisted me to throw my legs up over his shoulders. He seemed to enter me further than ever.

"Oh! You're so large! Oh! Good Lord! Go on slowly-don't finish me yet! It's so-so-nice! You're making me come again. Oh my!"

"No, dear, I won't finish you before I can help it. You are so nice to poke slowly! Do you like being finished! Do you-oh, my God! There, push! Push! Do you like to feel a man come?"

"Oh! Now so hard! There! Oh, my! Must-must I tell you-I–I love to feel-to feel a man spend-all the sweet sperm."

"You'll feel mine very-very soon, you beautiful little angel. Oh! I shall swim you in it! There! My prick is in now up to the balls-oh! Oh! How you nip it-oh!"

He gave some exquisite short stabs with his loins. His thing, as hard as wood, was up my belly as far as its great length could reach. He sank his head on my shoulder.

"Hold still-I'm spending! Oh, my God! How luscious!"

I felt a great gush come from him. It flowed from him in quick hot jets. He groaned in his ecstasy. I opened my legs. I raised up my loins to receive it. I clutched right and left at anything and everything-I spent furiously. He gave me a quantity. I was swimming in it. At length he desisted and released me.

A few minutes sufficed in which to rearrange ourselves decently. Mr. Turner asked me many questions. I fenced some-I answered others. I let him believe I was professionally employed in a provincial company. I told him I had been unwell and had been resting a short time at Eastbourne. He was delicate enough not to press for particulars, but he asked for an address. I gave him a country post office. In a few minutes more we stopped on the river bridge to deliver up tickets.

The train rolled into the station. My new friend made his adieux. He dexterously slipped two sovereigns into my glove as he squeezed my hand. I was glad. It proved the complete success of my precautions.

I hailed a hansom and drove direct to Swan and Edgar's. Outside the station, my cab stopped in the crowd. A poor woman thrust a skinny arm and hand towards me with an offer of a box of matches. I took them and substituted one of the sovereigns. As I alighted in Piccadilly, a ragged little urchin made a dash to turn back the door of my cab. He looked half starved.

"Have you a mother? How many brothers and sisters?"

"Six of us, lydy; muvver's out o' work."

"Take that home as quick as you can."

"Blimy! A thick 'un! There ain't no ruddy copper lookin' to pinch it off me! Muvver'll plant it away, so as 'ow favver won't have no cause to bash her for it."

He had never been taught to say "thank you." He took one hasty glance in either direction and darted away in the throng.

I discharged the cab. I made quite sure I was not followed.

Meanwhile my most recent companion was, no doubt, speeding on towards Manchester where he said he must dine that evening with Mrs. Turner. I couldn't help but hope the good lady was reasonable with her spouse.

I drove home. I found Mrs. Lockett ready to receive me. It was yet morning. I lunched alone. John was radiant with happiness.

"No more chicken, thank you, John. How is Robin? There are some ginger nuts for him in a bag on the hall table. You see I did not forget him."

"Thank you very much, miss. It's been very dull since you went away. Mrs. Lockett ain't very lively company. As for Robin, miss, he's been as sulky as possible; the poor thing is left quite alone. In the mornings he comes up the bedclothes and he stares me in the face, miss, as much as to ask where you've gone to. I'm ashamed to look at him."

"Poor dear! Why, John, how shocking! It's quite stiff now!"

I had only just tapped it with my fingertips through the red plush breeches. The unruly monster was already stretching itself down his plump thigh as its owner leaned forward to pour me out a glass of wine. The door was shut. I let fly a button. My hand passed inside.

"Oh, John! It's shameful! It's bigger than ever!"

I gave a twist of the wrist. His fat member sprang out into view. I squeezed it as I examined the rubicund top.

What a beauty it was! The true perfection of what such things ought to be. I pulled down the skin. I delighted to see the effect of my touches.

"He likes that, John, doesn't he? He seems to enjoy being stroked just like a tame cat."

"Yes, miss-puts up his back for it. You can almost hear him purr."

"You must not let him get too much excited. We will keep all that for tonight, John. I think we must let him out then, but you cannot be too cautious. Mrs. Lockett sleeps in the wing, doesn't she?"

"Yes, miss. She always turns the key of the door on the landing. A fine scraping it makes too when she locks it at night. The maid sleeps on the top floor. There is no one on your floor now, miss."

I made my arrangements. I finished my lunch. I dressed myself very plainly to go out. John called a cab. I drove straight to my bootmaker in Great Castle Street. Monsieur Dalmaine was not an ordinary bootmaker. He was an artist in boots. He only made for ladies, and his terms would be considered extravagant by the ordinary customer. His shop was small and unpretentious. Personally he was stout, short, and fair for a Frenchman. He might have been some eight and thirty. His wife kept the accounts and assisted him to collect them. His boots and shoes were not ordinary either. They were the perfection of his art. He took a real pride in them. The assiduity of the poor man to turn out boots to my satisfaction-and what appeared to be even of more importance, to his own-was sufficiently apparent. He was in the shop when I entered. Madame Dalmaine was out collecting accounts as usual of a Monday.