It was a story with a moral, as you will have observed, intended to discourage young people from practicing self-abuse.
When we had finished the last page I felt moist and sticky and it seemed to me that my panties were wet. Rene's trousers were jutted out in front in a way which showed what effect the story had had on him.
He looked at me, and I looked at him.
“Shall we?” he whispered.
“Yes!” I answered, all recollection of the pain I had suffered the last time this attic had been used for purposes of fornication completely obliterated.
While Rene was unfastening his trousers I kicked off my panties and lay down on the soft mattress. My emotions had been greatly excited by the vivid little story and the first touches of Rene's dickey against the moist flesh of my cunny were indescribably sweet. For a few moments I lay there languidly thrilling to the soft friction and pressure as the tip of his dickey roved about over the sensitive area like a person groping for a door in the dark. But suddenly I stiffened in alarm for I distinctly felt the constriction which accompanied an actual penetration and which brought back to my consciousness what had happened before.
With muscles tensed in readiness to free myself with the first indication of pain I held my breath and waited. But there was no pain. To the contrary, the sensations I felt as Rene's dickey slipped further into the tight little hole were more agreeable than anything I had yet experienced.
I moaned, not with pain this time, but with delight, and the next moment, actuated by those natural instincts which need no previous experience nor teacher to guide, we were both frantically heaving our bottoms up and down in an effort to taste without delay the supreme delight of which the intoxicating thrills now tantalizing us were but the forerunners.
It comes but once in a lifetime, that indescribable, celestial glow which suffuses the souls and blends the bodies of lovers in unforgettable rapture, the first perfect sexual union of two beings who feel toward each other the tender passion of youth unmarred as yet by maturity's grosser complexities, and I affirm that those who have not tasted the fruit of love under these conditions have missed what is probably life's sweetest experience.
Rene and I had finally succeeded in unlocking the door which had hitherto obstructed our progress and with the unlocking the latent germs of sensuousness, undoubtedly implanted in my very soul, sprang rapidly to full bloom. My ardor exceeded his, and it was I who now suggested and even begged frequent visits to the dusty attic where, with my panties off and my dress up or entirely removed, I writhed and suspired ecstatically in response to his vigorous thrusts. And; after a delicious orgasm had rewarded our efforts, I sighed inwardly with regret at the inevitable transformation his little cock underwent, dropping slowly but surely downward, its virile rigidity degenerating into a flaccid inertia which incapacitated it from further immediate use.
CHAPTER TWO
We now had plenty of time to be alone. There was no tenant for the extra room and Mamma Agnes was working out, with the result that we had several hours at our disposal between the time school was over and the hour at which she returned.
One day while we were standing on the sidewalk in front of the house Leonard appeared. Leonard, being entirely in Rene's confidence, had been appraised of the new state of affairs. He had intimated that he would like to try it again with me, which intimation I had listened to with no great enthusiasm, not through chaste reluctance, but because of the still lingering recollection of what had happened the first time.
I was still in ignorance of the exact physical facts and blamed him for the pain I had suffered. After some desultory conversation the enterprising Leonard suggested that the three of us proceed to the attic and have a hoochy dance. If you are familiar with juvenile parlance you may know that a hoochy dance is a simple but interesting form of entertainment in which the participants take off their clothes or “get naked” as they express it, and either with hands joined or independently, will jump and cavort in a circle in a sort of primitive dance.
The element of attraction in this otherwise inspired diversion being that the boys can look at the girl's cunny and the girl can look at the boys' dickies. “And…” continued Leonard, after contributing this suggestion for a pleasant manner in which to pass the afternoon ”… afterwards, you can fuck Jessie and I'll look, and then I'll fuck her and you can look.”
As for me I was entirely agreeable to the first part of the program, and open to acceptance on the latter. It was Rene who interposed the logical objection that three of us weren't enough to properly stage a hoochy dance and we set to speculating as to the possibility of getting additional recruits. A hurried inventory of acceptable prospects only brought to light that this one was not at home, that one was sick, and another being “kept in” as a disciplinary measure, etc. It seemed there was little hope of rounding out the party on short notice and as a last recourse, Leonard rather apologetically suggested that maybe we'd be satisfied with Maisie.
This was a thought. Maisie had never participated in any of our doings because being younger than the rest of us we looked down upon her from the vantage of our maturity and wisdom as being just a kid. Nevertheless, Maisie had earned quite a reputation of her own and Leonard made no secret of the fact that before his ideas had been broadened by the vanished maidservant he had often diddled his little sister. He looked on hopefully while Rene studied the suggestion.
“Can you find her?” queried Rene.
“Sure I can, if you'll wait for me!” responded Leonard.
“Well, all right, then. Hurry up!”
In less than five minutes Leonard was back with Maisie in tow. She was a beautiful little thing and her eyes were shining with elation at the idea of being permitted to participate in older children's secrets.
“Now we're going to have a hoochy dance in our attic,” explained Rene, addressing her. “If we let you come, you won't tell, will you?”
“No, no! I won't tell, ever!” she exclaimed vehemently. “I'm not a tattletale, am I, Lenny?” she added, turning to her brother for corroboration.
“No, she won't tell. She knows bloody well we'll knock her block off if she does!” responded Leonard with menacing emphasis.
Up to the attic we trooped and with much giggling and laughter began to undress. True to the usual formula of feminine hypocrisy, Maisie and I both made a great show of being concerned about the boys seeing us before we were “ready” and chided them hysterically for peeking while we were undressing.
This incitation had its natural effect upon the two boys and when we finally faced them, every stitch of clothing removed from our white little bodies, their cocks were standing out in stiff and rigid excitation.
We dragged the mattress to one side and, joining hands, began our hoochy dance, which consisted of nothing more complicated than swinging around in a circle and jumping up and down to the accompaniment of some ribald verses which we repeated over and over while the feminine eyes of the contiguity were fixed on jiggling dickies which bounced up and down with the violent movements of their owners, and the masculine ones on fat-lipped, hairless little cunnies.
When we had finally exhausted our acrobatic and musical repertoire we sat down, breathless, to rest and devise further exploits. Leonard wanted to fuck me while Rene and Maisie looked on, and then have the arrangement reversed with him and me the spectators while Rene fucked Maisie.
I protested that it hurt with him and expressed a preference to do it with Rene. My protest was partly actuated by something akin to jealousy. Somehow, I didn't exactly relish the idea of Rene fucking Maisie. But Rene intervened, and his word was law. It wouldn't hurt me now if I did it with Leonard. I was used to it now.