“Hold up your dress, Caroline, and back up a little more,” he said, and she backed, reefing up her skirts higher.
“Now, now, bend over a bit!” he said. “Slowly, slowly now! Not too far forward! Ah, there, rest a bit.” And as she bent over, bringing her naked arse almost into his lap, she felt the hard, hot, quivering rod placed in the ravine of her luxuriant arse, the hot, wet, massive tip pressing against her diminutive bunghole, causing her to leap forward at the contact, only to be brought back with a violent jerk by the lord of the encircling arm.
“No, no! For heaven's sake, not there!!” she cried wildly. “That monstrous thing will kill me.” And she wriggled and squirmed.
“Oh, don't be silly, child; I am not going to put it into you there,” he said laughingly. “You can move away now.”
She lost no time in leaping away from the dangerous vicinity of her uncle's large and rampant prick; she turned and found him with the front of his pants unbuttoned and the gigantic prick fully unveiled. He took hold of it and pushed it out to its farthest limit.
“Come, Caroline; don't you realize what your dainty little hands are made for? Come and caress this little teaser.”
She grasped the thick prick in her hands and slid the skin back from its head, revealing the bright red hat, which was a curiosity to her. The feel of it seemed to affect her strongly; a quiver ran through her body and she grasped it more tightly and commenced rubbing it up and down frantically, which naturally seemed to affect her uncle, who soon pushed her hand away.
“What is the matter, Uncle John?” she asked, wondering at his thus brusquely pushing her hand away from the object, when her handling of it seemed to give him such a thrill.
“Too fast, too fast, Caroline, my child! You'll have me spilling all over the floor!”
“Oh, uncle, does that rubbing produce any of the fluid?”
“Why, yes, child, didn't you know that?”
“Oh, no, sir; I thought that you had to put it inside me to make it spit out the fluid.”
“Didn't you ever see a prick before, child?”
“Oh, no, uncle; never.”
“Well, it's a wonderful machine. It has been known to give much pleasure to women versed in its use!” And at this he laughed loud and long.
The girl was ashamed of her ignorance in this matter. “Oh, uncle, why has it got skin over its head?” she asked, wondering what the reason was for the pink fleshy covering. She had again taken it into her hand and was this time caressing it in the most gentle manner.
“Ah, evidently you know little of the construction of a man's prick, Miss Ignorance! I even suspect that you think there is a bone concealed inside.”
“Well, hasn't it?” she queried.
“Why, no, dearest,” laughed Lord Roxboro, again kissing and handling her magnificent breasts.
“Then why does it stay hard, like a bar of iron?”
“Why, from coming in contact with your little crack and the deep ravine in your rear. When I touch it to you, or raise your clothes, or kiss you or fondle you, the thing springs into action immediately and becomes like iron. Ah, I see that you must have a practical lesson in the use of this machine. Come, my precious dove; get down on your knees so you can observe if closely and I will explain to you its various uses and appendages; come, little pet, down on your knees.”
“Oh, uncle,” she murmured, but nevertheless she at once dropped to her knees before him as he sat there, his hand still encircling the object of her curiosity.
“Put your face up close and take a good look at it,” said her uncle. “Roll back the skin and look at its rampant head. Now glance beneath. See those gigantic balls? They hold the magic fluid that can start in your womb a new life. Do you see them, Caroline?”
“Oh, yes,” said Caroline, fingering and fondling the bag, “they are large, are they not? And oh, all the hair! Why, it actually goes all the way up to your belly!” she cried, as her hand reached up under his shirt and she explored the surface of his hairy abdomen.
“Yes, my sweet,” said her uncle. “Men, as a rule, have more hair around these parts than the ladies. Of course, there are exceptions, however; one woman that I know is almost covered with hair; it grows between her legs and high up on her chest. It is strangely long and luxuriant, and she braids and curls it and seems to take quite a deal of pride in it. This person comes to the house frequently and I hope to have the pleasure of introducing her to you.”
“What? All the way up on her body? How strange and incongruous!” said Caroline, pulling up her own skirts and examining her own lightly covered mound. “I never knew there were women like that. We had a lot of girls in our dormitory at school, and really, uncle, none of them had much more hair than myself, although of course most of it was darker.”
“Yes,” said her uncle, “there are many objects that you have not seen. That object that you hold in your hand is known to give great pleasure to kings and queens, yet seems to be an object of fear and repugnance to you. But in time, dearest, you may grow actually to love it. Why, some girls derive such pleasure from kissing and caressing it with their lips that they will do nothing else!”
“What-from kissing it? Why, uncle, you are joking; how can any girl enjoy kissing such a thing?”
“Well, I can state from actual personal experience that they do. Surely it can do no harm!”
“Oh, but I am sure that I would not want to,” she said, making a face at the idea. “It is much too nasty-looking.”
“Ah, but it isn't half bad-supposing you try it and see?”
“Oh, uncle,” she protested, “I couldn't do that, really. I am sure it would make me ill, the idea is perfectly revolting to me.”
“However, I want you to do it,” he replied firmly. “Play with it awhile and after you have done that for a time, give it a nice lingering kiss; it surely won't hurt you.”
“Oh, uncle!” she protested.
“Come, pretty puss; the sooner started, the sooner finished. You really must kiss it before you get up. Take your time and look it all over; see that it has nothing wrong with it; it is perfectly clean; then give it a nice long kiss.”
She did not particularly relish the idea of kissing this monster with its wet tip; the idea filled her with revulsion; nevertheless as she fondled it and molded it between her fingers, stroking its bare head and grasping the balls that hung so tantalizingly below, she eventually leaned down and gave it a fervent squeeze and, closing her eyes, pressed her ruby lips against its throbbing head, then sprang to her feet.
“No, no! Oh, no, little cheat!” her uncle cried. “You did not give it a kiss; I want you to give him a regular kiss, not just a peck.”
“Ah, but a peck is enough for a pecker!” laughed Caroline. He laughed but, catching her around the neck, slowly forced her head down toward the luscious staff.
“But, uncle, I kissed him, just as you told me to.”
“But that is not enough,” he said. “Look; lift it straight up in the air.” This she did, exposing his balls as they hung, hair-covered from the root. “Those are my jewels, child; have you inspected them thoroughly?”
“Yes, uncle,” she whispered, holding the throbbing prick aloft.
“Well, Caroline, in appreciation of that rare sight, give each one of them a kiss, a real good kiss this time.”
Caroline pressed her lips to each of the hairy nuts, the feeling of the hairy surface bringing a quivering sensation to her body.
“Now,” said her uncle, “lower the instrument.”
She lowered the tempting prick, and at his command uncapped the fiery head.