But such was not the case. She was in bed and really appeared to be sick. My visit cheered her up enormously however.
My blackguardism was not long in awakening. But when I tried to reach under the covers to touch her, she turned away and said: "No, Roger, I had my period the day before yesterday."
"Ah, your menstruas," I said, "so you're no longer a little girl, but a woman now. And do you know that I've also become a man, Berthe," I added proudly. And unbuttoning my trousers I showed her my pubic hair and the bared head of my penis. "And I've done it too, you know. Though I can't tell you with whom."
"You've done it," she queried, "done what?"
So I explained coitus to my attentive sister. "And do you know what," I concluded, "Mama and Papa do it too all the time."
"Not really! How disgusting!"
But since her tone implied exactly the opposite, I added:
"Disgusting? Why were two sexes created then, Berthe? You've no idea how good it feels, much better than when you do it alone."
"Yes, I always did enjoy it more when Kate did it to me than when I did it myself. The day before yesterday, oh, really! I thought I was in heaven! Then Kate said to me: 'Now that you've come, Berthe, watch out, you'll be having your period soon.' That very day I had a stomach-ache, and all of a sudden something wet ran down my thighs. When I saw it was blood I was frightened half out of my wits. Kate burst out laughing and went to find Mama, who came and looked at me. 'Get yourself to bed now, my Berthe,' she said, 'you'll be having these every month from now on for three or four days. When you stop bleeding you should change your nightgown, and be sure not to wash yourself before the bleeding's stopped. By the way, you shan't be wearing little-girl dresses any more' I'm going to begin wearing long dresses like Mama and auntie," Berthe concluded proudly.
"Come on, Berthe, let's do it, " and drawing her close, I hugged her.
"You must be careful not to hurt my breasts," Berthe said. "I'm very sensitive now."
But she offered no protest when I opened her night-gown to see her little breasts, which were just beginning to blossom.
They were a pair of gently sloping hillocks, which reminded me of Psyche's or Hebe's. But they already had the classical form, and were firm, culminating in two little rose-colored sweetmeats.
I whispered reassuring words to her and she willingly let me fondle her and even suck her titties. In fact she was becoming excited.
After a few unconvincing protests, she let me see her Lady Jane, but only after she had rolled up her blood-stained nightdress.
She already had more hair than I. A little watery blood was trickling along her thighs; it was certainly not the most appetizing sight in the world, but I was too excited to care.
She was holding her thighs tightly together, but my probing finger soon found her clitoris. Under the pressure of my hand, her thighs began to spread.
Finally I was able to get my finger into her cunt, but not very far, for she drew back. I pressed against her hymen, in the middle of which there was already a little hole. Berthe gave a short cry of pain, and tightened up again. By now worked up to a high pitch of excitement, I undressed hastily, lifted my shirt and climbed on top of my sister with the intention of forcing my member, which was hard as a rock, into her cunt. Berthe protested weakly, began to cry, then gave a sharp cry of pain, when I went well into her vagina. But her short-lived pain soon appeared to melt into a feeling of sensual pleasure. Her cheeks were hot, her pretty eyes shone bright, her lips were slightly parted. She clasped me in her arms and began to respond to my movements.
Before I had finished, nectar had started to flow from her cunt. Her eyes, half-closed, were fluttering nervously. She cried out, but her cries were of pleasure. "Roger, ah! oh! Ro-oger. I… I… aah!" She was completely beside herself with pleasure. I had just plucked my sister's cherry.
Because of my morning's session with the bailiff's wife, and because of my excitation, I had not yet come. But seeing my sister's sensual delight, I became even more excited and stepped up the rhythm of my movements. But suddenly I felt something warm in Berthe's cunt. I withdrew, and a dark red mass of sperm mixed with the blood caused by the piercing of the maidenhead and the menstruation flowed out.
We were both frightened. My member was covered with blood, which stuck to my balls and hair.
But imagine our fright when we heard a voice behind us saying: "My, my my! What a pleasant conversation the young ones are having." Kate was standing beside us.
She had forgotten something and had been sent back to fetch it. So absorbed had we been in what we were doing that we had not heard her climb the stairs, but apparently she'd been watching us for some time from the hallway, and had then opened the door quietly and tiptoed into the room during Berthe's voluptuous orgasm.
Her roguish face reflected the excited state into which the sight and sound of our play had worked her. Berthe and I were so taken aback that for half a minute we did not even think to arrange our disorderly clothes. Kate had ample time to observe Berthe's serious bleeding, as well as the decline and fall of my tool, which my fright had caused to unstiffen.
"When you do such things, at least have the foresight to shut the door," and she went over and shot the bolt.
"Berthe, your mother forgot to tell you not to do it during your periods. But," she laughed, "I know how it is, that's just when you most want to.
"Now put a dry cloth between your legs and stay in bed like a good girl. But be sure not to put your shirt in the dirty clothes' basket, Roger, unless you've also started having periods."
And looking, I saw that my shirt was spotted with blood. Kate poured some water into a hand basin and approached me.
"Luckily it comes out easily," she said. "Get up, Roger, and let me wash you."
I stood up in front of her so she could wash my shirt in the basin. She lifted my shirt-tail high, exposing me again to the view of the two girls.
She washed my shirt, poking fun at me as she did so, then said seriously:
"Come here now," and washed the blood off me with a sponge.
At this contact, my tool slowly began to rear its sleepy head. "Oh, you wicked little prick, going into Berthe's cunt like that!" and she gave it a few saucy slaps with the palm of her hand. Suddenly she grabbed me, forced me to my knees, and spanked me as hard as she could.
I started to howl bloody murder, while Berthe almost split her sides laughing.
My fanny was stinging, but my state of excitement was even greater than before.
When I was younger, then or thereabouts, my mother had often hoisted me between her thighs after I'd done something or other I shouldn't have, lowered my trousers and spanked the devil out of me. But I remember that after the first sting of pain had subsided, a feeling of sensual pleasure had lingered with me the rest of the day.
When Kate noticed that my prick was once again respectable, she broke out laughing. "Goodness gracious, what a big handle!" She took it in her hand, squeezed it, then uncovered it. That was just too much. I grabbed Kate's breasts; she pretended to resist. So I slipped my hand beneath her skirt. She wasn't wearing panties. I seized her apricot. She tried to draw away, but I held her by her love hair, encircled her buttocks with my left arm, dropped to my knees, and drove the thumb of my right hand into her warm box, maneuvering it back and forth.
Kate lost possession of herself and fell back onto the bed. I lifted her dress and laid bare her cunt. Her hair was red, not as thick as I would have imagined from what Berthe had told me, but fairly long and moist with sweat.
Her skin was as white as milk, and soft as silk. Her white thighs were well rounded, and she was wearing pretty black stockings in which a pair of firm round calves were enclosed.