He pushed and pumped. It was so delightful that I wondered how I could ever want for any other man but him. The pleasure was so exquisite that I called out: “Oh… just keep on… that is so good… poke me harder…!” Mr. Eckhard seemed to lose his senses when he finally squirted. He twitched and groaned and flipped and flopped. But I had tasted very little of this exquisite pleasure and was not nearly satisfied. Alas, he was all in. I was anxious to teach him what I had learned from Mr. Horak, so I started playing with his device. I wanted him to poke me through the back door, so I took his tool between my thumb and middle finger, playing round the head with my forefinger as I had seen Clementina do to Alois. When this did not seem to help, I took his limber weapon in my mouth, sucking and licking it around the head with my tongue. With my hands I played in the hair, which was tickling my eyes, and fondled his marbles, anxiously watching him grow stiff and hard again. At last he grabbed me, ready for another “piece,” but, putting my arms around his neck, I whispered into his ear: “Don't you want to get it in farther?”
“Yes! Yes!” he gasped, “way in-but it won't go.” I pushed him away, saying: “No, not that way-but it will go!” “But how?”
I turned my back to him, reached back between my legs, took his spear in my hand and inserted it. He grunted like a pig, as his mammoth member, which I had moistened with my saliva, slipped into me, he pushing it in further and further-indeed even further than Mr. Horak had succeeded in doing. It felt so glorious that I could not wish for anything more! He had now become so wild with passion, that I had to push away his hands-which clawed at my mound-or he would have torn me apart. I was already bleeding. I squeezed my sphincter together and he groaned loudly with pleasure. I enjoyed his groaning, so I squeezed repeatedly; but in consequence he discharged before I wanted him to. Then, exhausted, he leaned against the wall.
As I raised up, I shook with pleasure, feeling as though his energetic engine was still inside me; at this, the juices which he had injected there ran down the insides of my legs, tickling me as they dripped. But I could not rest. Under the pretense of wiping him off, I again began pushing his foreskin back and forth. He begged me to leave him alone. But I was not satisfied. I was still thinking of Shani -his mother, his two sisters, so unabashed in a way in which I had never yet acted towards Mr. Eckhard. I asked: “Have you ever done this naked?” He remarked: “Why, you have been in bed with me!” To this I replied: “Yes, but I mean all naked- without anything on?” He asked: “Have you done it that way?” “No,” I replied, “but I would like to. Have you ever done it that way?”
“Of course! Why, I was married once.” “Did your wife die?”
“No, she is not dead.” “Then, where is she?” “Why, she got to be a whore!” I remembered Mr. Horak calling me that. I asked: “Well, then, perhaps I am a whore?” “Oh, no!” he laughed outright. “You are my dear, little pepi!” At that he caressed me, and I, taking advantage of this, began playing with his shaft.
“"I never poked a little girl like you,” he continued. “Why do you like to poke so much?” Instead of answering, I stooped over and took his device so far into my mouth that the hair tickled my face. But he would not get stiff. After a while he murmured: “Oh, that feels so good!” Then, taking the instrument out of my mouth, he rubbed it around my grotto with his hand. It tickled as if a big tongue were licking me. “Is that good?” “Yes! But why doesn't it stand up again?” I asked. “I want it to stand up again!”
“If your mother knew what you are doing-” he suddenly remarked.
I laughed, saying: “Mother would like to have father's stand oftener.” Getting curious, he asked: “How do you know that?” (Still he continued playing around my slit with his soft machine.)
I told him of the scene which I had overheard. He listened eagerly and then said: “So she told him she would find someone else to poke her?” And just then, his shaft rose up stiff as ever. He put me on his lap, astride him, and forced himself inside me as far as he would go. I began jumping up and down, and soon approached my heights. I told him: “I am coming again-don't put it in so far-that hurts there-there-I am coming again-!” “At this, he asked: “Why wouldn't your mother let me poke her?” As I jumped up and down, I replied: “I don't know!” He said: “Ask your mother to let me. Will you do that for me?” “Yes,” I said, “but keep on, please-oh! That feels so good!” He was now pumping away in grand style, becoming more and more stiff as he thought of what I had told him. Meanwhile my mind was on Shani's mother and two sisters. “Do you think your mother would let me?” he asked again, coughing.
“Perhaps! I don't know,” I answered, as he began pushing harder.
I warned him: “Not so deep!” “I suppose with your mother I could get it all the way in?” “Certainly!” “Would you like to have me poke your own mother?” To please him, I answered: “Yes!” Just then he began to squirt. I jumped up, but, since he had not finished, he got mad, saying: “Lie still, you imp-you fool-don't run away before I am through!” So I had to finish it with my hand. It seemed as though he would never get through. Since it had now become dark, I went to bed. Mr. Eckhard did the same. But after awhile I got up, went to his room, took my chemise and stood before his bed-naked. At first he did not want me, but he soon began petting my naked body, my breasts and my kitten. Then he rubbed my nipples with his wet finger tips, then my stomach. Finally he began to play inside me with his fingers. By this time I was so passionate that I was trembling. I was afraid that some one might come in, so I pleaded: “Come on, Mr. Eckhard-hurry up! Somebody might come!”