Anonymous - The altar of VVenus - The Making of a Victorian Rake

As she fingered what seemed to me an interminable number of buttons, I dropped to my knees and endeavored to assist in the operation.

Freed, finally, the garment fell to her feet and she kicked it to one side, at the same time twisting the lower part of her dress around her waist. It was a pretty picture which was revealed by the subdued light of a crescent moon as she stood there with her bottom, thighs and legs down to the tops of her silk stockings exposed to my eager eyes.

I was still on my knees before her, when yielding to a sudden impulse, I pressed my mouth to the exposed surface of her stomach, below her navel. The skin was so refreshingly cool and smooth that for some moments I continued to caress it. Then I became aware of the contact of the softest and finest of silken hair against my chin. And with it came the sudden realization that is was a golden opportunity to try something which had long intrigued my fancy, a rare and precious opportunity, dropped right into my lap by the Gods of chance and good fortune.

My heart leaped with excitement, and without wasting a moment in speculation or deliberation I slipped my arms around her naked bottom, drew her closer, and: pressed my mouth right over her moist little cunt.

As I did so, I felt her hands on my head, trying to push me away.

" What are you trying to do?" she gasped.

But my tongue was already inside the valley.

Up and down between the wet lips it raced, pausing finally to centralize its caresses over and around the odd, tit shaped clitoris. And, as when I had petted it, it responded by stiffening out and increasing in size. I felt it throb violently each time my tongue passed over it, and my own cock began to jump in sympathy.

I stopped licking it, and getting the tip between my lips commenced to suck it.

" Don' t do that!" she gasped again, but there was a strange disparity between her words and actions, for now, instead of trying to shove me away her fingers were entwined in my hair, and she was pulling me to her and at the same time had arched her body forward.

" Don' t do: ah! Oh! Oh! Like that! Oh that feels nice! Oh! Oh! Oh! Don' t stop! Don' t stop!"

This clamor aroused me to a perfect frenzy, and I redoubled my efforts, intending to make her have orgasm once this way as quickly as I could, and afterward, put something bigger and stiffer than my tongue into her.

Suddenly I felt the muscles of her thighs tense, her clutch on my head tightened, I sensed something wet and sticky dripping from my lips and chin, something which seemed to react on my own sensibilities, and before I could rip open the front of my trousers, ejaculation was on me and the semen running down inside my clothing.

About the same moment, my companion' s legs gave way beneath her, and we were in a confused tangle of bodies on the ground, with her on top. We lay still for a few moments panting, and when I recovered from the effects of my involuntary orgasm, I ruefully squeezed out the last few drops from my now wilting scepter of pleasure and wiped it off with my shirt tail.

She pulled her dress down over her naked bottom and stood up.

" Hurry up!" she urged, " it must be nine- thirty, and my father will come after me."

" Gee! I wanted to do it once the regular way before we went back!" I protested.

She glanced uncertainly at something which was hanging limply and flaccidly from my unbuttoned trousers.

" Your tiddie- widdie is all soft now. It won' t go in that way. Will it get hard again?"

" Yes, if we wait a few minutes. It' s still early."

" Well: if it doesn' t take too long. Maybe I can make it get hard by jiggling it!"

Extending her hand she took the lethargic piece of flesh between her fingers and began to work the foreskin back and forth in an effort to restore its erectile inclinations.

She continued patiently, and in a few minutes I began to feel the first pleasant glow of awakening virility.

" Look!" she giggled. " It' s getting fatter already! I do this to my brother sometimes. He likes it. I sneak in his room in the morning before he gets up. He pretends to be asleep, and I juggle it until that white stuff squirts out!"

If anything had been lacking to quickly elevate my cock from its still rather somnolent and recumbent position, this opportune and disingenuous confidence fulfilled the requirement.

In instant response to the aphrodisiacal picture her words evoked it straightened out in turgid erection.

Spreading my coat out to protect her bottom from the rough ground I placed myself between her arched knees and a moment later, to the accompaniment of tremulous sighs and other expressions of delectation on her part, my cock was sliding back and forth between the tight folds of the mysterious domain where babies struggle to get out of and men pass most of their lives trying to get back into.

Resting my weight upon my hands on the ground, I looked down into the flushed face below. Her distended eyes and gasping breath told me that she was close to orgasm, and when a second later her legs flew up to clasp themselves across my back and her arms tightened around my neck I drove in the few final thrusts which were necessary to complete our mutual ecstasy.

Slowly I picked myself up from the ground. We dusted and straightened out our disordered clothing and returned to the boat.

No sooner had my companion seated herself than she arose again to exclaim in dismay?

" My panties! I forgot to put them back on!"

So back we went to where they were lying in solitary abandon, and as she stepped into them, I struck a match and glanced at my watch. It was exactly eleven o' clock.

" It' s after nine- thirty now, isn' t it?" she inquired anxiously.

" A little," I admitted.

Again we returned to the boat and were soon gliding shoreward.

" Did you like it: I mean the first way?" I asked, as I pulled at the oars.

" Oh, it was just wonderful! Nobody ever did that to me before," she added giggling. " That' s the way the French do it, isn' t it? A boy wanted to do it to me once, but I wouldn' t let him. I didn' t know it felt so good."

" Well, we' ll do it again some time, if you want to. You can meet me at the park, we' ll get a boat again."

" All right! And the next time you do it that way I' ll:"

The phrase was never finished for as we approached the boat landing, the figure of a man detached itself from the shadows and came toward us.

" I' ll bet that' s my father?" she whispered uneasily.

A moment later she exclaimed:

" Why it' s my brother! They' ve sent him after me. Don' t tell him we were at the island! If he asks you tell him were just rowing around the lake!"

Disturbed by her evident alarm I slowly guided the boat up to the anchoring platform, as she stood up to get out, the brother, apparently a chap of about my own age, stepped up and exclaimed angrily:

" Where have you been all night?"

Without waiting for an answer, he seized her by the arm and glaring ferociously at me, hustled her off.

So pleasantly and agreeably had my very first adventure in " Frenching" transpired that whatever linger doubts I many have entertained as to the esthetic considerations involved in the act were dispelled, nor did I thereafter permit fastidious scruples to deter me from taking entire advantage of such opportunities as came my way.

My experience and observation lead me to believe that the lingual caress is gratefully received by most females, although many through a feeling of shame will protest hypocritically at first. Their opposition generally melts rapidly under a little persuasion, or perhaps the employment of just enough force to provide an excuse for submission.

Women are by nature more lascivious than men but the precepts and inhibitions which are inculcated in them from puberty to maturity exercise a powerful restraint, and they automatically assume a hypocritical prudery they may be far from inwardly feeling. Few are ever able to completely free themselves of the belief that this pretense must be maintained even with the men who receive their most intimate favors.