Anonymous - The Altar of Venus

In plain, vulgar, everyday words, my little Gabrielle was jacking herself off.

The sight reacted instantly and violently upon my own emotions. My first impulse, after observing the spectacle for a few moments, was to take off my clothes and delay my return to the office for half an hour or so, but it occurred to me that it might hurt her pride to know that I had witnessed her act, thinking possibly I had intentionally spied on her. But even as I hesitated undetermined, the episode came to a sudden conclusion. I heard a subdued gasp, the movement of her wrist was accelerated for a moment, then ceased and she relaxed languidly, closing her eyes. I slipped away from the door and quietly left ths apartment.

The really curious termination of the incident referred to came a fortnight later. Business! matters required that I make a trip from the city which signified three or four days absence from home. While I was discussing the matter with Gabrielle she remarked in a joking way that she didn't know how she was going to "get along without it" during the period of separation, to which I replied:

"Well honey, you can do what you did before you had me, can't you?"

She looked at me in a startled way, and said:

"What do you mean, Gilbert?"

"I mean, you've still got your fingers, haven't you?"

"When the significance of my words dawned on her a wave of crimson passed over her cheeks and to my astonishment she exclaimed with great indignation:

"Why, I never did that in my life!'' "What! Never?"

"No! Never!"

"Not even once, honey?"

On another occasion I was discussing with a feminine acquaintance the subject of suppressed longings and inhibitions. She was twenty-five or twenty-six years old, had been married, but was separated from her husband.

I had expressed it my belief that there was no person living, who did not carry in his or her heart a secret longing for some particular form of sexual gratification which had never been indulged, either because of lack of opportunity or inhibition through fear or shame. Something in the look she cast at me, or in the way she quickly averted her eyes, told me that in her case at least I had hit the nail on the head. Curious to confirm the supposition, I urged her to confess.

"Come now! Own up! Isn't there something naughty you've wanted to try for a long time, but never dared?"

She made no immediate reply but the color of her cheeks was proof enough of the accuracy of my surmise. It took a .lot of coaxing and encouraging, but I finally got the story.

When she was seventeen, she had known a young man who courted her assiduously for a brief period. The courtship had not resulted in anything serious, although he was likeable young fellow. Later he moved from the neighborhood andjshe had never seen him again, though she remembered him with some affection.

Some years later and while married, she had a dream in which this young man figured prominently. In this dream she was standing naked before a tall mirror brushing her hair. While so engaged, he appeared in the room and kneeling on the floor before her he separated the lips of her genitals with his fingers and sucked her clitoris until she had or dreamed she had orgasm. And ever since, she had suffered an inordinate longing, a longing she had never before voiced,, to have a man do it to her exactly as in this dream-she standing naked before a mirror, and he kneeling at her feet as she brushed her hair!

Needless to say, I volunteered to help her convert the dream into immediate reality, but no quicker were the words off my lips than with flaming cheeks she fled from the room, and locked herself in the bathroom, and it was half an hour before I could coax her to come out.

Here was a girl who for years had ardently and passionately longed for a certain form of sexual gratification and yet, when the opportunity was at hand, shame prevented her from taking advantage of it.

Later, I put my cave-man tactics of "take it first and ask afterwards" into effect, and had the satisfaction of "bringing" her several times in rapid succession by the famous French method, although unsupplemented by mirror or hair brushes.

Another instance of feminine curiosity which for naive simplicity and ingenuousness certainly took the prize, comes to my mind with the recollection of a little sixteen year old, whom I sue-

ceeded in coaxing into my room on several occasions while living in a boarding house her widowed mother presided over. Subsequently our meetings were effected late at night after the mother had gone to sleep, the girl slipping into my room when all was quiet in the house. She was an innocent appearing little damsel and I hesitated to take full advantage of the situation until I heard from her own lips that she had already been initiated, and by no other person than her own uncle-a man of forty-five at least, and who lived under the same roof.

According to her story, from the time she was eleven years old he had been in the habit of fondling and caressing her, and fingering her genitals. One morning, some months before I had made her acquaintance, she had gone to his room to awake him. He seized her, and pulled her down on the bed by him

"He pulled my dress up," she confided, "and unfastened my panties. And then he threw the covers off, so that he was all naked. His thing was sticking up, and he rubbed it between my legs. I tried to get away from him but he held me tight. And then he made it go clear inside me. I hurt awful at first, but pretty soon it began to feel kind of good, too. When he let me up there was blood all over my legs and on the bedsheet. He made me get a clean sheet and put it on the bed. And then he wrapped the bloody one up in a bundle, and hid it so mama wouldn't see it. And another time, one day when mama was gone, he did it to me again. He sat down in a chair and unfastened his pants and made me sit on his lap so his thing went up inside of me."

After hearing this interesting history I lost no time in breaking in on uncle's preserves, and thereafter on an average of once a week I enjoyed her company in the still hours of the night, while the rest of the household was wrapt in slumber.

On one of these occasions after she had slipped off her nightgown and was cuddled up in my arms, she whispered:

"If I asked you to let me do something to you, would you let me?"

"What do you want to do to me, sweetheart?"

"It's something … . oh, you'll think I'm awful if I tell you!" and she hid her face against my neck and began to giggle.

My curiosity was aroused as it always is when I see a women giggling and blushing at the same time.

"I'm not easily shocked, sweetheart. What is it you want to do?" -

"I won't tell unless you promise to let me first!"

Bather suspecting that I was destined to be the object of an amateur experiment in cock sucking, I assured her that I was willing to take a chance, and promised my acquiesence.

"Well, I … oh, I'm ashamed to tell you!" .

Thoroughly intrigued, I encouraged her with caresses and coaxing. When the secret was out my surprise as it ingenuous, almost infantile nature was boundless. She wanted nothing more nor less than to masturbate me with her fingers so that, quoting her own words, she could "see it when it squirts out!" Speechless for a moment, all I could do was gasp.

"Is that all you wanted to do, sweetheart?"

Her eyes refused to meet mine, but she nodded her head.

"Well, there it is. Go to it!" and I turned over on my back.

With shining eyes, and flushed cheeks, she extended her hand, and began to work the foreskin up and down. All that was necessary for me to do to help her gratify her curiosity was to lie still and let nature take its course. And a few minutes later she was recompensed with the sight of half a dozen copious jets which suddenly flew upward from between her fingertips, and barely missed striking her in the face in their trajectory.