Venus in India (31 page)

'Well, Mabel!' said I, when the colonel had walked off with that jaunty side step he always adopted after a good fuck, 'you came in the very nick of time to see that!'

'Yes!' said she, looking at my prick and gently feeling my balls, which she had foraged for and got out. 'Sugdaya told me I should see something, if I came over here now. I thought she meant this,' she continued looking up at me with a smile, 'but I fancy she must have meant that I should see papa with Mrs Soubratie.'

'She may have meant both, Mabel dear! But take care, child! You will make me spend if you move your hand like that!'

'Oh! What fun that would be! Let me? Do, Captain Devereaux! I should so like to see it.'

'Well!' said I, shivering with pleasure, 'all right, dear, but let me take off my trousers first or they will be spoilt.'

I saw that the time had come. This was Mabel's hour and I shut my bedroom door and bolted it.

'Now, Mabel! Take off your frock and stays and stockings and we will go to bed together.'

'Oh no!!'

'Oh yes!'

'Oh, how delightful! Oh, you good, good, good Captain Devereaux!!' she cried in an ecstasy of joy. 'But let us go regularly to bed and take off all our clothes.'

'Very well!' said I, laughing, and in another couple of minutes we were both as naked as we were born.

Mabel was very pretty. Like Fanny and Amy, she had a very nice, pure, even white skin. Her limbs still required a little more flesh to give them the roundness that is so desirable, but her little bubbies were really charming and the plump motte had quite as much hair on it as Fanny's and her nudity charmed me; my nakedness pleased her immensely; though she had often enough handled my prick and balls, she said this was the first time she had ever really seen them.

Now, it is chilly enough in the cold weather to make one's skin rather want clothing, so I picked up Mabel, laid her on the bed and, getting in myself, pulled the bedclothes well up to our chins and there we lay cuddled together. Mabel had again got hold of my prick, which she was working in such a way that I knew I would spend immediately if she did not leave off.

'Wait! Mabel, you will really make me spend all over you.'

'I shall like that,' she cried. 'I should like to see what a man's spend is like.'

'Very well,' said I, laughing, 'then see.'

I threw down the bedclothes and almost at the same moment let fly a torrent of spend which I could restrain no longer. Mabel shrieked, for the first jet struck her full in the face, the second under the chin, the third splashed against her bubbies and the remaining jets I directed to her belly and finally to her bush, taking care so to hold her hand as to give her the benefit of every drop.

'Oh! That was nice!' cried Mabel. 'What a lot. How creamy it is. Like hollandaise, only thicker; but you must have quite emptied your balls.'

'Oh no. There's lots in them, Mabel, and when, in a minute or so, I fuck you, they will go on making more for you.'

I wiped the lovely streaming body of my bedfellow as I spoke and, expecting to find a rather obstinate maidenhead, I thought it wise to begin with her as soon as possible, so that by the time I next spent, she would have had a good fuck.

Judge of my surprise, on taking my position between her open thighs, to meet with absolutely no resistance! There was not only not the ghost of a maidenhead, but it was evident to me that the cunt I was in had been most thoroughly well opened. If Mabel had already been fucked, who had done it? I made no remark, however, for I was too much amused and delighted with her expressions of delight and pleasure. Like Fanny and Amy, her cunt was a perfect fountain, easily made to play by the movements of my prick within it, and Mabel made me laugh with her continuous, 'There I go again!' But when I came to the short digs and in my turn inundated her lovely little cunt with a sea of spend, Mabel clutched me with all her force to her convulsed and quivering body and exclaimed, 'Oh! how much better a real prick is than a cucumber!'

The cat was out of the bag! A cucumber!

The first fuck over, Mabel told me amidst rapid kisses and never-ending caresses that Sugdaya had taught her how pleasant a sensation could be produced by a three-quarter-ripe banana, with its peel half removed. From a small banana she had progressed to one of larger size, always to the detriment of her maidenhead, until one day, seeing a very nice smooth cucumber, the straightness and size of which struck her as being peculiarly adapted for her experiments, she picked it, went indoors and finished off with a vegetable what, but for that, would have been decided by my prick of flesh!

Mabel was a lascivious little girl, a grand poke. Like Lizzie Wilson her mission in life is to fuck. The dear reader will not be surprised to hear that she has joined that select number of fair women who, nominally 'kept' by wealthy lovers, take delight in relieving the pains of numerous adorers, and enjoy along the winding paths of intrigue the voluptuous pleasures to be gathered, like flowers, along their shaded ways. If Mabel's present ties were legitimate she would be the Duchess of -. To her was the glory of having been the first to give palpable proof of the ecstasies of fucking to no less a personage than one of the royal princes.

Neither Fanny nor Amy showed any ill will towards Mabel on account of our mutual participation in the sacrifice, and up to the last night of their stay in Fackabad these amiable girls were poked by me, sometimes in company, sometimes singly, unless 'illness' prevented.

In March of the following year, just twelve months after I had taken Fanny's maidenhead, the girls went home to England, the colonel having retired from the service.

Our parting was extremely painful. We made exchanges of locks of hair from our respective bushes and so eager were the girls for mementoes of mine that it was months before my prick grew out of a forest as thick, or rather as long, as it was when first I pressed it against that of Lizzie Wilson at Nowshera.