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At last I felt the thing beginning to yield, and after a few more powerful thrusts, her maidenhead gave way; she uttered a sharp cry of pain, and my prick buried itself to the roots in her cunt. Then, a few short digs finished the affair; the supreme moment arrived, the delicious spasm seized me, and I spent profusely, pouring out a torrent of boiling sperm, while she gasped, squirmed, and wriggled her bottom furiously, uttering little squeaks of mingled pleasure and pain as the hot stuff spurted in gushes up her lacerated cunt. And when all was over, she lay trembling in my arms, her breath coming and going quickly, her bosom heaving tumultuously, and the flesh of her bottom twitching nervously; her cheeks were scarlet, and there was a languorous look in her moist eyes.

As Frances was “small,” and as I was “great,” she had suffered a good deal of pain;-much more than a larger made woman would have suffered, — there had been a considerably effusion of blood, and the proof of her virginity was plentifully displayed on the hair of the “spot,” on her thighs, and on the towels under her bottom. And as soon as she had fairly recovered herself, she noticed the sanguinary stains. “Oh-h!” she exclaimed in a horrified tone, beginning to cry. “I am bleeding!”

I kissed her, and soothed her, calling her all sorts of endearing names; telling her that it was nothing, and that every woman bled more or less, the first time she was embraced by a man. She soon grew calm, and smiled at me faintly; then I got a basin of water and a sponge, with which I carefully removed all the traces of my “bloody” work from her person, and dried her with a soft towel, while she lay, with outstretched legs, and blushing cheeks, looking up at me; finally I got one of my nightshirts, put it on her and made her get between the sheets, then washed my “gory weapon,” and got into bed beside her, where she at once cuddled up to me, saying with a deep sigh: “I am glad it is over. It was very painful, and it did not give me the least pleasure.”

I laughed, saying: “I suppose it was rather painful. Never mind. You will find that it will give you great pleasure in future.”

She looked rather incredulous, and made a little face, as she laid her head on the pillow. She appeared to be quite worn out; her eyes closed, and in a few moments, she fell fast asleep. Then I got up, extinguished the candles, and crept quietly into bed again, without disturbing the sleeping girl; and soon after I fell asleep myself.

I woke two or three times during the night, each time experiencing a feeling of pleasure, and getting a cockstand at the contact of the girl’s plump, warm flesh, but as she still continued to sleep soundly, I did not disturb her. I woke again when it was broad daylight, and on glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece I saw that it was six o’clock. Then, sitting up in the bed, I gazed at Frances, who was lying on her back, sleeping like a child, and looking exquisitely pretty. Her short, curly, golden hair was ruffled over her broad, white forehead; her blue-veined eyelids were closely shut; the long, curved eyelashes resting on her smooth cheeks, which were flushed with a delicate pink tinge like the petals of a rose; her red lips were slightly separated, showing her small, pearl-white teeth; and as the collar of the nightshirt was a little open, I could see the upper part of her titties, which looked like tiny mounds of snow. Bending over her, I pressed my lips upon her rosebud mouth in a long, hot kiss, and she woke up with a little start, looking rather bewildered, as if she could not quite make out where she was; and she gazed at me for a moment, with her big blue eyes wide open, her cheeks at the same time growing very red; then a bright smile lit up her pretty face, and, throwing her arms round my neck, she kissed me, saying: “Oh, how funny it seems for me to be in bed with you!”

“I think it is very nice,” said I, feeling her bubbles with one hand, and stroking her bottom with the other. “How did you sleep?”

“Very soundly. I never opened my eyes from the time I went to sleep until you woke me. I was very tired after what happened last night,” she added, glancing at me slyly.

“And sore too, I daresay,” said I, smiling and pinching her thigh. “Now let me have a look at the tender spot.” She laughed, and at once laid herself flat down upon her back; then I turned down the bedclothes, and pulled her nightgown up to her chin, so that the whole front part of her lovely body was naked; her delicate skin looking even more beautifully white by daylight, than it had by candle-light.

After I had sufficiently admired the charming spectacle presented by the girl as she lay naked before me, I made her stretch out her legs, and then with my two forefingers, I separated as widely as possible the outer lips of her cunt, and examined the inside of it; finding that it was rather inflamed; the inner lips being a bright pink colour, and also a little swollen; and, on looking up the vagina, I could plainly see the lacerated edges of the ruptured maidenhead. “Carunculae myrtiformes,” they are called by surgeons.

“The ‘spot’ looks rather sore,” I said.

“It smarts a little, and I have a feeling as if something was still sticking in it, and stretching it.”

Taking her hand, I placed it on my rampant prick. “There, Frances,” I said. “Feel and examine the thing that did all the damage.”

She sat up in the bed, clasped her little white hand round my tool, and gazed at it with eyes round with astonishment, exclaiming: “Oh! what an enormous thing it is! No wonder it hurt me!”

Then, with her fingers, she measured its length, and pulling back the foreskin, exposed the ruby tip; the appearance of which seemed to amuse her, for she laughed softly. “Oh, what a funny-looking thing it is, with its big red knob! I never should have believed that such a great thing as that could have got into my little”-she stopped and looked comically at me. She really did not know what to call her thing.

“Do you know what the things are called?” I asked her.

“No, I don’t. I wish you would tell me,” she replied eagerly.

I laughed, and told her the names of the various parts of man and woman, and also all the terms in the vocabulary of love; and in addition, I explained to her the different positions in which a man may embrace a woman. She listened with rapt attention, her cheeks flushing, and her eyes sparkling at my graphic descriptions; and during the whole time I was speaking, she kept hold of my tool, occasionally squeezing it, and making me feel intensely randy. So I said: “That is a very different “thing” to the one you felt between little Tom’s legs when you spanked him.”

She let go her hold, blushing very red, and gazing at me in speechless astonishment, and looking so utterly mystified, that I burst out laughing and told her how I had seen her spanking the boy, and also putting her hand under his belly.