Luigi Berenger - Sub Umbra

The merry month of May has always been famous for its propitious influence over the voluptuous senses of the fairer sex.

I will tell you two or three incidents which occurred to me in May 1898 when I went on a visit to my cousins in Sussex, or as I familiarly call them the She-Noodles, for the sport they afforded me at various times.

My uncle's is a nice country residence standing in large grounds of its own, and surrounded by small fields of arable and pasture land, interspersed by numerous interesting copses, through which run footpaths and shady walks, where you are not likely to meet anyone in a month.

I shall not trouble my readers with the name of the locality.

Well, to go on, these cousins consisted of Annie, Sophie and Polly, beside their brother Frank, who, at nineteen was the oldest, the girls being respectively eighteen, sixteen and fifteen.

After dinner, the first day of my arrival, Paterfamilias and mama both indulged in a snooze in their arm chair, whilst us boys and girls (I was the same age as Frank) took a stroll in the grounds. I attached myself more particularly to my cousin Annie, a finely developed blonde, with deep eyes, pouting red lips and a full heaving bosom, which to me looked like a perfect volcano of smothered desires.

Frank was a very indolent fellow, who loved to smoke his cigar and expected his sisters, who adored him to sit by his side, reading some of his novels of the day, or tell him their love secrets, etc.

This was far too tame an amusement for me and as I had not been there for nearly three years, I requested Annie to show me the improvements in the grounds before we went in to tea, saying to Frank banteringly:

I suppose old fellow, you're too lazy and would prefer your sister taking me around?

I'm too comfortable; lazy is an ugly word, Walter, but the fact is Soph is just reading an interesting book, and I can't leave it, he replied: Besides Sissie is just as well or better qualified than I am to show the grounds, I never notice anything.

Come on, Annie, said I, taking her hand: Fred is in love.

No, I am sure he never thinks of a girl, except his sisters, was the reply.

We were now out of earshot, in a shady walk, so I went on a little more freely.

But surely you, coz, are in love, if he is not. I can tell it by your liquid eye and heaving bosom.

A scarlet flush shot over her features at my allusion to her finely moulded bosom, but it was evidently pleasing, and far from offensive, to judge b her playfully spoken:

Oh, for shame, Walter!

We were a good distance away by this time and a convenient seat stood near, so throwing my arms around the blushing girl, I kissed her lips and drawing her with me, said: Now Annie dear, I am your cousin and old playfellow, I couldn't help kissing those beautiful lips, which I could always make free with, confess all before I let you go.

But I've nothing to confess.

Do you never think of love, Annie? Look me in the face if you can say it to a stranger to your bosom putting my hand familiarly round her neck, till my right hand rested on one of the panting globes of her bosom.

She turned her face to mine, suffused as it was by a deeper blush than ever, as her dark blue eyes met mine in a fearless search of my meaning, but instead of speaking in response to this mute appeal, I kissed her rapturously several times, sucking in the fragrance of her sweet breath, till she fairly trembled with emotion.

It was just beginning to get dusk, my hands were caressing the white firm flesh of her beautiful neck, slowly working their way towards the heaving bubbles a little lower down; at last I whispered:

What a fine-what a lovely bust you have developed since I saw you last, dear Annie, you won't mind your cousin, will you, when everything used to be so free to each other; besides, what harm can there be in it?

She seemed on fire, a thrill of emotion seemed to shoot through us both, and for several moments she lay almost motionless in my arms, with one hand resting on my thighs. Priapus was awake and ready for business, but she suddenly aroused herself, saying:

We must never stop here, let us walk around or they will suspect something.

When shall we be alone again, darling? We must arrange that, before we go in, I said quietly.

It was impossible to keep her on the seat, but as we walked on, she said musingly:

Tomorrow morning we might go for a stroll before lunch. Frank lies in bed and my sisters are keeping house this week; I shall have to mind the pies next week.

I gave her another hug and a kiss, as I said: How delightful that will be, what a dear thoughtful girl you are, Annie!

Mind sir, you behave tomorrow, not so much kissing, or I shant take you for a second walk; here we are at the house.

Next morning was gloriously warm and fine; as soon as breakfast was over, we started for our stroll, being particularly reminded by papa to be back in good time for luncheon.

I gradually drew out my beautiful cousin, till our conversation became exceedingly warm, the hot blood rushing in waves of crimson over her shame faced visage.

What a rude boy you have grown, Walter, since you were here last, I can't help blushing at the way you run on, sir! she exclaimed at last.

Annie, my darling, I replied, what can be more pleasing than to talk of fun with pretty girls, the beauties of their legs and bosoms, and all about them? Now I should like to see your admirable calf at this moment, especially after the glimpse I have already had of a divine ankle; saying which, I threw myself under a shady tree, close by a gate in a meadow, and drew the half restraining girl down on the grass by my side and kissed her passionately, as I murmured:

Oh, Annie, what is there worth living for, like the sweets of love?

Her lips met mine in a fiery embrace, but suddenly disengaging herself, her eyes cast down, and looking awfully abashed, she stammered: What is it, what do you mean, Walter? Oh, my dear, can you be so innocent? Feel here the dart of love, all impatient to enter the mossy grotto between your thighs, I whispered, placing her hand upon my prick, which I had suddenly let out of the restraining trousers.

How you sigh-grasp it in your hand, dear-is it possible that you do not understand what it is for? Her face was crimson to the roots of her hair, as her hand grasped my tool and her eyes seemed to start with terror at the sudden apparition of Mr. John Thomas; so taking advantage of her speechless confusion, my own hand slipping under her clothes, soon had possession of her mount, and in spite of the nervous contraction of her thighs, the forefinger searched out the virgin clitoris.

Ah; oh! oh! Walter, don't! What are you about?

It's all love, dear; open your thighs a wee bit and see what pleasure my finger will make you experience, I again whispered, smothering her with renewed and luscious kisses, thrusting the velvet tip of my tongue between her lips.

Oh! Oh! You will hurt! she seemed to sigh, rather than speak, as her legs relaxed a little of their spasmodic contraction.

My lips continued glued to hers, our otherwise disengaged arms clasped each other closely round the waist, her hand holding my affair in a kind of convulsive grasp, whilst my fingers were busy with the clitoris and cunny; the only audible sound representing a mixture of kisses and sighs, till all in a moment I felt her crack deluged with a warm, creamy spend, whilst my own juice spurted over her hand and dress in loving sympathy.

In a short while we recovered our composure a little, and then I explained to her that the melting ecstasy she had just felt was only a slight foretaste of the joy I could give her by inserting my member in her cunny.