"All you have to do is just slip off your panties!"
A bit of coaxing, liberally interspersed with kisses, and as usual I won my point. With reddened cheeks, she unfastened the little silken garment and lay down on the sofa.
"Darling, lie face down this time. It gives me the nicest feeling to have your bottom rubbing against me!"
"Gilbert!" she protested, in shocked indignation.
In this, as always, she yielded after the requisite coaxing, turning over on her stomach.
I raised her dress, exposing the firm beautiful hemispheres, and placed myself above her with my knees between her legs. Slipping one hand down the front of her bodice over one of her breasts, I inserted the other one under her abdomen and placed my finger on her clitoris. Her. bottom quivered and vibrated against my stomach, in instantaneous response to the caress.
The opportunity to let her make all the racket she wanted to was a good one, for it was midday and the noise of traffic in the street below was such to lessen the probability of being overheard. Pressing my cock into her as far as it would go, I began to titillate her clitoris with
my finger. And, as I had anticipated, the show began.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! she shrieked, "Oh, that's good! It's wonderful! Oh! Gilbert, dearest, darling, Oh! Oh! Oh!"
For ten or fifteen minutes I kept her squealing and kicking, under the double provocation of a cock inside and a finger outside, and then unable to longer resist the contagious excitation my own organism released itself.
"Gilbert, did I make much noise?" she asked guiltily, after it was all over, and we had arranged our clothing.
"If there was anyone closer than Trafalgar Square who didn't hear you, I'll be surprised, darling."
"Oh!" she gasped, horrified. "Why didn't you put your hand over my mouth?"
"You know where both my hands were, dear. Tell me, honey, did it feel nice? Do you like it that way? How many times did you come?"
"Gilbert! I don't want to talk about it!"
"Why not, darling?"
"Gilbert, will you please hush up?"
The extreme sensitiveness of her clitoris and its peculiar erectile qualities set me to speculating, almost involuntarily, as to what the effect of a warm tongue onit would be. Out of respect to her, I had refrained from even tentative explorations in the way of "frenching" but chance brought up the subject one night*
We were in bed, and Edyth was lying cuddled up by me. She was in a talkative mood. She had asked me a number of questions about Paris, and my experiences there, to which I gave discreet replies, when snuggling up closer to me, she said:
"Gilbert, there's something I want to ask you about …" she hesitated a moment, and continued in a low voice: "A woman told me, but I don't know whether it's really true. Do those French girls really let men do it to them in the mouth? . . . And do men do it to them with their tongues, too?"
When I was able to speak with composure, I replied:
"Well, darling, the French girls haven't any exclusive patents on it! I guess women of all nationalities take it that way sometimes, if they like a man well enough. And the same thing applies to men."
"Gilbert! Did you ever do that to a woman with your tongue?"
"Who? Me? Why, no, darling," I answered, discreetly, 'I never met a woman I cared for well enough to do that. That is, until I met you. I'd do it that way for you in a minute, if you wanted it."
"Why, Gilbert! That's terrible !"
"Why is it terrible, honey?"
"It's nasty!"
"That depends on the woman. You're not nasty. Youspend half your time in the bath tub. You're as clean and sweet down there as a newly budded rose!"
"I don't mean that way! I mean, It's indecent!" ^
"Well, darling," I lied hypocritically, "I always thought so, too, until I met you. Someway, that sort of makes it seem different. You're so fresh and sweet I'd just as soon put my lips on this, (and I placed my hand on it) as I would on your cheek!"
She remained silent for a few moments, digesting what I had said, and I whispered insinuatingly :
"They say it feels wonderful to a woman, better than any other way. Do you want me to do it to you once that way, just to see?"
"Gilbert! Htish up!"
"Just feel how this little thing is swelling up! I'll bet it would like a nice kiss if its mama didn't object!"
Her limbs trembled convulsively and the "little thing" to which I referred was standing up and pulsing violently.
"Gilbert! … If you don't hush up I swear
Til get up and sleep on the lounge! Take your hand away from there!"
"All right, darling!"
The next day, while leaving a store in which I had purchased some little gifts for her my attention was attracted to a beautiful coat on display in the window. It was an exquisite garment of genuine ermine, and a price tag announced that it was on sale at the specially reduced price of forty pounds. Business had been good and I was tempted to buy the cloak for Edyth. I turned and started back into the store but as I did so it occurred to me that perhaps it would be advisable to get her opinion on it before making the rather costly purchase.
After we had dined that night I suggested a walk. Window shopping was one of her favorite diversions and she agreed with alacrity. A bit later we were gazing into shop windows at finery temptingly displayed, and without disclosing my purpose, I steered her around, until we were in front of the store where the coat was on display.
"Look at that coat, Edyth!" I exclaimed, "Isn't it a beauty"
She gazed at it rapt eyed, and drew a deep breath.
"Oh! Isn't it lovely! And look, Gilbert, only forty pounds!"
She feasted her eyes on it, and as she reluctantly turned away, I said carefully:
"Well, honey, we'll be rich some day, and you'll have a coat like that.'
It was my intention to surprise her with it the next day.
We returned to our apartment and while I sat in the library reading the evening paper, Edyth undressed, and soon I heard her splashing in the bath tub. When she finished bathing she came into the room where I was sitting with a dressing gown draped about her and sat down. She seemed to be preoccupied, and was silent until I laid down my paper. As I did so, she remarked pensively:
"I sure would like to have that coat we saw."
"Yes, the coat is a beauty. Looks like it was just made for you."
"It's a bargain, too. Only forty pounds."
"We'll be able to buy coats like that before long if business continues to improve."
"I've got ten pounds saved up now. I believe I could save the rest in three or four months."
"I'm afraid the coat will be sold long before that, honey."
I got up, and standing behind her chair, tilted her face upward, and kissed her lips. As I did so, the dressing gown fell open sufficiently to
disclose a pair of luscious white bubbles, free for once, of their customary harness. And, as pretty breasts always have done, and always will, they turned my thoughts to subjects other than coats.
More with the intention of teasing her than seriously and without premeditation, I said as my hands closed over the snowy globes:
"Honey, you know we're not exactly rich, but I'll make you a proposition. Let me do that to you once, and I'll buy you the coat!"
She looked at me uncomprehendingly.
"Do what?" she asked.
"You know . . . what we were talking about last night,"
She gazed at me wide eyed for a moment and then as she recollected the subject of our conversation of the previous evening and comprehended what I meant, she turned crimson and exclaimed:
"Gilbert! Stop talking about those indecent French tricks!"
"You'd look piarvelous in that coat."
"Will you hush up?"
"And the price they've got it marked … it will be gone before noon tomorrow."