We had been an hour on the road and were still borne along at the same unflagging gallop. Hassan held me in front of him like a baby in his arms, often kissing me, his kisses constantly growing more ardent until I felt his stiff shaft pressing against my person. He suggested that I should ride astride awhile and rest myself by a change of position.
I obeyed his suggestion, turning with my face towards his, putting my arms around his neck, while my thighs were wide open over Hassan's. He let the bridle drop over the horse's neck, whose headlong pace subsided into a gentle canter which was like the rocking of a cradle. Hassan put his arm around my loins and lifted me a little; his other hand was busy clearing away the petticoats and then I felt the crest of his naked shaft knocking for entrance between my naked thighs.
I was willing to yield to Hassan anything that he wished but no sooner had the lips of my sheath been penetrated than I involuntarily clung more tightly around his neck and, sustaining myself in that way, prevented him from entering further. I found the sensation entirely different, however, from that which I had experienced when the fingers of the Imam explored the same entrance. Now the organ seemed adapted to the place and excited a sensation of pleasure.
I offered my mouth to Hassan and returned his ardent kisses with an ardour equally warm. A desire to secure more of the delightful intruder overcame my dread of the intrusion. I loosened my hold on Hassan's neck and my weight drove his shaft so completely home, notwithstanding the tightness of the fit, that his crest rested on my womb. It felt so unexpectedly good that I gave a murmur of delight. The motion of the horse kept partially withdrawing and then completely sending it in again at every canter. The first thrust, good as it was, was completely eclipsed by each succeeding one. I could have murmured with delight still louder, but kept still for very shame. What would Hassan think of a girl so wanton?
But he was in no condition to think. He was fiercely squeezing and kissing me, while at every undulating motion of the cantering horse he seemed to penetrate me more deeply. The pleasure was too exquisite to be long endured. It culminated in a melting thrill, and my moisture mingled with the sperm that gushed from Hassan's crest. He reeled in the saddle but recovered himself.
The cantering motion drove his shaft less deeply in as it became more limber. It finally dropped out of me, a little limp thing drowned in the descending moisture. 'What a conquest for a slender girl to achieve over such a formidable object,' I thought.
Exhausted, but triumphant, I dropped my head on Hassan's shoulder.
'Poor girl,' said he, 'how it makes you bleed!'
'Never mind,' I whispered.
He always remained under this innocent delusion, for the trying scenes of that eventful night brought on my period prematurely and my petticoats before morning were stained with blood. Twice more during the night he slackened the speed of his horse, and each time we completed an embrace equally satisfactory. At dawn we were beyond the reach of pursuit, safe and free.
El Jelis finished as she began, with her back towards me, while I was reclining against Myrzella and Virginia. The graceful Arabian was astride my thighs, partly kneeling on the carpet and partly lying on my loins. She played with my genitals all the time she was telling her story and my shaft got so stiffened that she inserted it.
It was sufficiently excited to enjoy the charming retreat where it was cherished. My glands relaxed and my pendant was fondled in her tapered fingers and caressed by the soft hair which hung down from her loins. I lay luxuriously quiet, but El Jelis had been longing all the evening for the connection and she could not keep still. She made little wanton motions with her loins all the while she was speaking, and at every move the moist, warm tissues where my crest was hidden quivered with life and imparted their vitality to me.
I would have summoned energy to give her the thrusts for which she longed but I postponed it from moment to moment, revelling passively in the lascivious situation. El Jelis could no longer restrain herself. She finished her story and began to play her loins up and down my shaft, which though erect to its full size, was not entirely rigid, and it bent with her vigorous motion. Her position was favourable to the play of her loins and she moved them with greater and greater rapidity.
I seemed to have changed my sex and to be a woman actually enjoying the thrusts of her paramour. In a few moments I would have been ripe to melting, but El Jelis could not wait; her buttocks settled heavily upon me, her sheath loosened and her moisture flushed my genitals. She sank back with a deep sigh into my arms, which drew my shaft completely out of her and exposed it like a tower rising tempest-beaten from the waves.
It subsided at once when the stimulating efforts of El Jelis were withdrawn. I was not ready for another onset. The ladies were too polite to laugh; I had exerted myself too much on their behalf. El Jelis threw the scarf and then nestled quietly in my arms.
It fell to the ninth lady. She was a Parisian and her name was Renйe. The others had done well to leave her to the last for she was the most beautiful woman in the room. The sweetness and vivacity of her expression and the grace of her manner lent additional charm to her perfect features and her splendid form.
She was of medium height with full contours, graceful as a fawn yet voluptuous in the bold roundness of her bosoms and the grand swell of her thighs. Her complexion was wonderfully clear. Her snow-white skin was so transparent that a delicate pink tinge showed plainly beneath it, especially at the little ears and the small tips of her fingers. The rosy tinge was deep on her lips and her mouth was like an opening red rose. Her large hazel eyes were clear and full and the long lashes that partially veiled them could not conceal their lustre.
Her hair was of a dark chestnut colour, but if the light fell full upon it, it was of a golden auburn; it began to curl at the centre of her head where it was parted, and would have descended in a luxuriant mass to her knees if it had not been carefully confined by combs. The hair at her loins was dark but had a ruddy tinge.
After she had exchanged a kiss with me she reclined in a graceful position at my feet where I could uninterruptedly feast my eyes on her marvellous beauty while she told her story.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
When I arrived at the age of sixteen I was still at a convent boarding school in Paris. Lisette, my room-mate, was my most intimate friend. I confided to her all my secrets and supposed she did the same to me, especially what we could learn about marriage and sexual intercourse, a subject which had a strange fascination, even for a girl like myself who had never engaged in it, but who looked forward to an early marriage with eager satisfaction.
One evening Lisette came into the room with a triumphant expression. She had something in a small box which she mysteriously produced. It was labelled: 'One Superfine Dildo'.
She locked the door and, opening the box, revealed an India-rubber article about the size of a man's shaft ready for action. She explained to me what it was and said she had got it from her milliner as a great favour and had paid her five hundred francs for it. She was all eagerness to try it.
'But, Lisette,' said I, 'if we do, and if we should ever get married, our husbands would know it.'
'Oh!' she said, 'we could easily fool them.'
Having filled the dildo with warm water and fastened it upon my loins with the straps attached to it, she prevailed upon me to act the man's part. She pulled me into bed and seemed perfectly familiar with the proper manner for me to mount her. So far from being hurt by the thing, Lisette seemed to enjoy every movement of it, from the time I thrust it into her till she gave a dying sigh and subsided.