For a quarter of an hour I lay in a complete state of annihilation, and was only recalled from it by the kisses of Laura.
"Darling Kate," she exclaimed, "you must give me relief or I shall die-the sight of your enjoyment has lighted up such a fire within me that I shall burn up if you do not quench it."
"I will do my best, dear Laura, to assuage your desires. You have made me experience such unheard-of delight that I should indeed be wanting in gratitude if I were not to attempt to make you some return."
I rose up and, kneeling across her, began to examine at my ease her lovely Mons Veneris.
It was a glorious object, covered over with a mass of black silky hair, through the midst of which I could discern the plump lips folding close together. I placed my finger between them and felt her clitoris swelling beneath it until it actually peeped its little red head from its soft place of concealment. I now advanced one finger and found that it entered her coral sheath with the utmost ease; at the same time it was tightly grasped by the sensitive folds of her vagina. I began to move it in and out, while I kissed her white belly and thighs.
"Stop, darling," said Laura, rising up and going to a drawer, "I will contrive something better to bring on the dissolving period. You are rather a novice as yet in the art of procuring enjoyment."
She took from the drawer a dildo, which she fastened securely around my waist, and making me lie on my back, she leaned over me and guided it into her sensitive quiver. She then commenced to move herself rapidly upon it. It was a delicious sight to me; I could see the instrument entering in and out of her luscious grotto while her features expressed the most entrancing enjoyment and her broad white bottom and breasts shivered with pleasure. Her motions did not continue long, however. In a few minutes she succumbed and the elixir of love poured down her white thighs. The voluptuous sight before me and the rubbing of the dildo on my clitoris caused me to emit again at the same moment that she did, and we both sank exhausted on the bed. I shall not detain the reader with all the exquisite enjoyments I experienced for the next three months in my lessons with the beautiful Laura: suffice it to say that we exhausted every method that two young girls of ardent imagination could propose. At last the time approached for us to separate, and with tears and embraces we bade each other adieu.
I returned home and it was several years before I saw the sweet companion of my school days again.
Chapter II
When I returned home I found my father as gloomy and austere as ever. He welcomed me with a cold kiss and asked me a few questions as to the progress I had made in my studies. My replies did not appear to satisfy him and I had not been home a week before he declared his intention to send me to school again. I was by no means sorry to hear of this resolve, for my brother was finishing his education in New York, and the house was insufferably dull. I was at once dispatched to Mount de Sales, a convent near Baltimore. The inmates of the convent consisted of pupils and nuns-the latter acting as instructresses to the former, assisted by two or three priests.
I had been in the convent a year when we received a new pupil named Margaret Maitland, the daughter of a distinguished lawyer, residing in Baltimore. Margaret was a beautiful girl about my own age. She was rather tall, her eyes and hair were black, while her skin was of a whiteness ravishing to behold.
She was exceedingly religious and spent a great portion of her time in prayer, fasting and vigils. I noticed that she confessed to a Father Clark very frequently and always appeared very happy and contented when she left the confessional. I felt satisfied that there was something going on which partook more of the flesh than the spirit, and I determined to watch.
Father Clark's apartment was situated at the eastern extremity of the convent. It contained a large closet, and one day I concealed myself in it at the time I knew his penitent would visit him. I had been there but a few minutes before the priest entered. He was about forty years of age, stoutly built and rather handsome. He did not wait long before Margaret made her appearance. She looked positively beautiful. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed, and her bosom rose and fell, showing that she was laboring under some excitement. To my extreme surprise, the moment she entered the room she ran up to Father Clark, and throwing her white arms round his neck kissed him passionately on the lips. He returned her embraces and drew her on his knee. This sight was entirely novel to me, and my cheeks burned while my eyes almost started from their sockets watching what would be their next proceeding. I had not long to wait, for I saw the priest's officious fingers unbutton Margaret's dress in front and deliberately pull it off her ivory shoulders, thus exposing two globes of snow, round, firm, exquisitely formed, and surmounted by two strawberry nipples, which stood out stiff. He pressed and kissed her breasts, absolutely burying his manly face between the soft cushions. He was, however, soon not satisfied with this, but canting her slightly up in his lap, he put his hand up her clothes, and invaded the most secret recesses of her body. This action raised her petticoats in such a manner that it exposed, to my gaze, one of her ivory thighs, which was large, well developed and beautifully rounded. I could see that he was moving his hand rapidly while Margaret seemed on the point of dying with delight. After amusing himself a short time in this manner, he suddenly desisted and, slipping her off his lap, placed her on her hands and knees on the floor. He then went to a cupboard and took from it a bunch of rods. Margaret remained in the position which he had placed her without making the slightest movement. Father Clark now walked up to her and, raising her petticoats, threw them over her head, thus exposing, in a moment, all her hidden charms to my excited eyes. It was a delicious sight, sufficient to have seduced the most rigid anchorite. I could see Margaret's white buttocks, admirably formed, her two beautiful thighs, and exquisitely formed legs; all was naked from her waist down. Situated at the lower portion of her white bottom, between her lovely thighs, I could discern the pouting lips of her bijou, with a line of coral marking the spot where they met.
Father Clark raised the rod and brought it down gently on her broad, white buttocks-their hue was immediately changed to a blushing red, while Margaret twisted and turned under the flagellation, every movement revealing more of her exquisite Mon Veneris. While the priest plied the rod, he appeared to be experiencing the most delicious sensations. Margaret's bottom was soon as red as a cherry, but she did not appear to mind the flogging which she was receiving the least bit.
When the priest had continued this exercise a few minutes, he threw down the rod, and kneeling on the ground behind her, he unbuttoned his pantaloons, and out leaped his staff of love, stiff, firm and with its ruby head uncovered. He nestled it for a moment between her buttocks, and then gently driving the vermilion lips of her coral sheath with his fingers, he brought his instrument to bear on the luscious opening, and seizing her by the hips, in another moment he was plunged to the very hilt in her beautiful body. When Margaret felt that the conjunction was complete she uttered a faint exclamation of joy and wiggled her buttocks from side to side as if to prevent her prisoner from escaping her. The priest now began to move himself in and out of her-and as he did so, I could distinctly see his staff appear and disappear in its warm nest. Every time he withdrew, her vagina clasped his instrument so tightly that he drew out the interior lips, and each time that he plunged it into her palpitating body, they were carried in with it. You can imagine my sensations, dear reader, when I saw all this. I instinctively raised my clothes and carried my hand to my own moss-covered retreat, and forcing a finger between the lips, I found it tightly grasped by my vagina, and I imitated all their motions, thrusting it in and out, my eyes being all the time fixed on the amorous couple. The priest was evidently in the seventh heaven of enjoyment, his hands wandered from one beauty to another as if at a loss to know which to take possession of. At one moment it would be her snowy globes which still remained uncovered; at another it would be her white belly, and then again it was the top of her Mount of Venus. Suddenly his motions grew quicker, his staff entered in and out of the coral retreat so rapidly that I could no longer detect the motion. The crisis came, and with a smothered exclamation of joy they both discharged. At the same moment the exciting scene I had witnessed drew from me my tribute to the god of sexual desire.