Anonymous - Dara

It was midnight when, with arms linked in support of each other for we were not too steady on our feet, we made our way back to her hotel. She balked at the hotel entrance again, refusing to go in, declaring that she would rather walk the streets than sleep next to a room with a corpse in it. My modest two-roomed apartment above a leather shop was but a block further on so without any further discussion I took her along with me. The thought of sleeping on a hard floor while she occupied my bed wasn't a pleasant prospect, but I resigned myself to the inevitable outcome of an evening I was now viewing with mixed feelings.

As it happened the floor was not to be my bed for the night. Dara, on hearing my intentions, would have none of it saying, on seeing the bed, 'Why, it is big enough for three people never mind two,' at the same time looking at me quizzically. Getting no response from me she said, 'I can't let you sleep on the floor. Not after all you have done for me.' Then she got all maudlin, going on and on about how kind I had been to her. Flinging her arms around my neck, she burst into tears and then slumped to the floor saying, 'No, I won't deprive you of your bed, James, I'll sleep out here in the lounge.' Rolling herself into a ball and, with eyes closed, she murmured drowsily, 'Good night, James, and thank you.'

Confused, I asked myself what could one do with such a contradictory girl? With brain somewhat hazed by the brandy fumes, I stumbled around the bedroom, dropping my clothes in a higgledy-piggledy mess all over the floor. Getting into bed, I was about to put out the light when Dara walked into my room stark naked. 'I've changed my mind,' she announced. 'It's cold out there; please let me share your bed.'

She giggled nervously as I stared wide-eyed at her nude body. There was good reason for my gaping at her as this was the first time I had seen the female body completely naked. Suddenly, going all modest, she bent over and covered her genital organ with her hands. 'Well?' she questioned impatiently. 'Do I stand here all night shivering or can I get into your bed?'

Moving over I raised the bed clothes on her side and she slid in beside me. She patted the pillow two or three times before snuggling down to sleep with her back to me. It took me sometime to regain my composure and settle down for the night.

I awoke late in the morning to find Dara languidly resting her head on her arm, looking at me with a mischievous smile on her lips. 'You are like a beautiful, innocent cherub when you are asleep, James.'

Her perfectly shaped breasts were but only inches from my face. They were two pearly globes, tipped by nipples that invited loving kisses. Reaching out, I hesitantly covered one of the breasts with a hand. It felt as cool and as smooth as the surface of a piece of alabaster. The firm nipple tickled my palm as I caressed the proud breast with the tips of my fingers. Some biblical words from the Song of Songs came to my mind:

'Your breasts are as two fawns,

Twins of a female gazelle,

That graze among the anemones.'

There was a softness in Dara's eyes and a warm smile around her mouth as she looked down at my upturned face. She slowly ran her fingers through my hair as I gently sucked the nipple of her breast. It seemed to grow and harden in my mouth as I pressed my lips deeper into the soft flesh and when I withdrew to pay my attentions to the other breast it was glowing cherry red. After a little while I raised myself to kiss her on the lips. The warm, moist breath from her mouth was an open invitation to taste further delights as her tender ruby lips parted to welcome my kiss. The silky tip of her tongue snaked sensuously into me arousing my desires with affectionate caresses. Surrendering lips to me, her slender body gradually followed suit, moulding the feminine curves into an intimate embrace of my flesh to become a perfect union that made us as one.

I had always thought that a girl's body would never have any appeal to me but I was now feeling a bliss and a joy that I had never experienced with a man. There was a warm affection in the yielding breasts and soft thighs as they pressed against my body and sent the blood rushing through my veins in a lust of feelings that was new to me.

Dara eased herself from me and, with her lips on mine, brought her hands to my dicky and smoothed the wrinkles out of it until he proudly stood up thick and hard. Her fingertips played sweet melodies on his taut skin until I was ready to cry out in an agony of pleasure.

Sliding under me she brought up her knees and opened her legs wide. Still caressing my stiffened dicky she guided him into her moist vent. Consumed in a fever of passion I thrust him up her as far as he could go. Dara, warm and submitting, clasped me to her uttering little cries as she gasped for breath. Hugging me with her soft, rounded thighs, she wriggled and rubbed hard up against me until her swizzling, rising hips brought forth a delirious sigh of deep satisfaction from her.

To see her overcome by fervent, storming emotions was flattering and gratifying but I had urgent desires of my own that also needed to be satisfied and I set to with a will, humping into the soft feminine flesh beneath me with forceful thrusts. As the tension of my pleasure increased I instinctively held my breath when my passions came to a head and the sap of my loins pulsated through my throbbing dicky into her womb. In excited exultation there came from my lips a sound of triumph, a long drawn out 'Ye-O-O-e'. The exquisite sensation that released me from my passion held me in a trance as I lay heavy on Dara's soft curves.

Within minutes of finishing off a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs at an eating house opposite my apartment, we were on our way to Pfaff's for I was in a mood to celebrate.

'Be a man, my son,' my father had shouted at me before I left our ancestral home for America and then working himself up into a rage that bordered on a fit of apoplexy, 'and don't come back here until you have proved your manhood, you filthy, bare-arsed, pederast, milk-sop!' The old man could be quite vile when aroused.

On this occasion he had some justification for his choice of words, as the day before he had caught me bare-arsed in the stables with a young lusty groom bending over me.

Well! I had now proved my manhood. For the first time in my life I had been a rampant lover between a beautiful girl's legs and I got the impression from the fond looks Dara was giving me that I had done all that was required of me.

There is a saying: 'Claret for boys, port for men, brandy for heroes'. I felt like a hero and lifted my glass of brandy in Pfaff's to salute Dara, the girl who had opened up a new life for me, something I thought would be impossible in my case-marriage with children. But would she have me? That was the question that bothered me as I plied her with drinks in the hope that I could get her in the right mood to accept a proposal of marriage.

She was excited and happy. The merriment in her eyes sparkled as she looked with great interest at the variety of people thronging into Pfaff's for their first drink of the day. Henry Clapp, journalist, and leader of a group of outrageous bohemian admirers, was there that morning with his actress friend, Ada Clare, who also had her coterie of followers. Dara obviously liked the atmosphere and the buzz of conversation around her, giving the impression that it was something new in her experience.

When I brought up the question of what we were going to do about the doctor's corpse at the hotel she brushed the query aside saying, 'Please, James, don't talk about the dead-not yet. This has been the most wonderful morning I've had for months and months. I feel so alive and happy I don't want anything to spoil it. We will talk about Lionel later. You are right, of course; we will have to do something about it, but not now.'