0 comments/ 19984 views/ 0 favorites Excerpt By: ayer As the slow lingering kisses continued, smack on smack, lip to lip, and face to face the adoring, delirious, drunken awkwardness of lust and love blended together in the tumultuous finality of copulation. Standing there Leon could resist her beckoning body no longer. Between kisses he ran his hand down along the front of her dress, searching vainly for the camouflaged openings which eluded his discovery. She gently patted his back and let go her hand in an effortless affront on his fly. With gentle shock she felt the stiffness of Leon against her hand. She popped open his pants as he gave way to her plan. He stubbornly resumed his quest for her zipper and finally found it tucked away at the nape of her neck underneath hair and clothes. Moving in an even stroke he released her zipper halfway, revealing the petal white back to his vision alone. He felt his heart thump, thump, thumping against his chest in great pumping motions. He was aware of his trickling blood, his nerves on raw ends of hurtful reaction to his ravenous appetite for the fleshy, white, body quivering before him. His were the frothy, foaming feelings of a great capitulation to the demands of heart and mind before him. The dress fell away at last and all of a sudden, and yet by and by, he came to the visual completion of his quest to know Virginia Moyers. In a second the dress was forgotten, along with the once complementary panties, now rumpled in silly protest against their untimely fate. Standing and yet tottering toward the beckoning bed of white, was Virginia, hot with the flushed desire and confusion of decisions made between quick breaths of blind lust and drowning emotion. Her practical slip and functional bra was no match for Leon's thinking fingers. His hands moved as if in concert with the sway of her wants and needs. He didn't do one thing wrong. As the bra gave limply away it seemed the final barrier between her friendship and her kingdom of sacred intimacy was stricken down. Her two breasts contrasted the chest of smooth skin. They peeked at him and he stared back admiring their lovely shape and pleasant plumpness. He caressed first one and then the other as Virginia began to feel the electric running of chemical reactions within her body and mental synapses within her brain. By now she had unbuttoned his fly and his pants easily gave way to the demands she placed upon their threadbare seams. Her dress of fine material hit the same floor as his old pants of seemingly ancient bolt, which collapsed with token ease to the commands of her fine white hands. Nothing in the world was going to stop him from making sloppy, happy love to her. No Gilead Falls judgments, no evaluations of conduct, no lists or assumed sets of values were going to operate to the deterrence of this pure and unavoidable love. They both plummeted toward the bed with great finality. On the way down, Virginia whipped off her panties with great happiness. They crashed down next to one another, locked in a subtle embrace of tender expectation. Her craving, yawning, wetness invited him with undulating madness. He tore at himself to present a calm look of self control. This failed as he felt the coy gentleness of her bush whisking across his thighs. He felt her weight, so desirous and good, speaking of every pound of her upon him. She felt his wry toughness give passage to her love with nudges of delight and wonderful pokes of strength. They squirmed together in playful happiness washing away the sins of generations of institutional regret and ignorance in one act of near divine interplay. The plight of the Black community was far from the minds of either Leon or Virginia; they were focused on their own plight. This happened to be a bright and wonderful kind of trouble they were getting themselves into. In that moment of meeting they counted the cost of a hundred hells, and the wrath of a thousand angry Jehovah's reigning down thunderbolts of punishment and the visitation of damnation upon their disobedient and disrespectful rebellion. The woman scent strong upon her loins spilled carelessly on his own incited Leon to pitches and turns of jet like passion. Somewhere between the hungry struggle for bodily satisfaction and the tender want to please the other person, Leon and Virginia found what they had wanted and needed all along. It was between the fighting and twisting flesh of swollen lust and hearty desire, struggling with the foreign cooperative on the other end that they found the distance between hip and heart wasn't as great as they always imagined. Thrashing and pulling, groaning and moaning all joined together in the weakness and total exposure of human sexuality, without which Leon and Virginia could never have shared all they needed and wanted. Their exchange capitalized on nature's own shrewd plan of natural procreation as the two of them turned it into a delightful doting of one for the other. Leon and Virginia had given themselves totally, intimately and honestly to one another in this ceremony of terrible weakness. Leon felt all over her long pretty nakedness. Lying there moving and being moved she was wonderful in all her womanly roundness which drove Leon so mad and filled him so with want to know her perfectly; as well as she knew herself. He wanted union of the most climactic kind. He felt the rimples and rolls of her motion-mad rump and admired the erotic beauty of her hunched over him in sweet surrender, moving her hips and bottom in human rhythm to the sexual waves rolling over her soul. He watched her gently bobbling breasts sway in time to the gyrations of her abdomen as if directed by a carnal maestro. He finally felt the spontaneous clasping of hands as her pump, pump, pumping waxed quick and rapidly spun out of control while her body clutched for the bracing shock of orgasm and the spasms of his uncontrollable surge of happy weakness. They purged themselves in the pure light of mutual respect and happiness. They filled themselves full with the strong, musty drink of sexual union. But most of all they fell so deeply into love that they were unable to extricate themselves from its icy grip. In the heated exhaustion of lovemaking Leon and Virginia discovered another dimension of their relationship. They had little by little, moment by moment fallen for one another, now they relished the new sight, sound and smell of this latest expression of their attraction. They had found a roadmap into each other's soul. Without quite knowing it they had breached the barriers of Gilead Falls. Excerpt. (Excerpt from a 30 chapter Vignette.) Chapter 5. My poor little pooh-pooh hole was still swollen from last night when my girlfriend, Sarah, and her new boyfriend, Tom, came over to my apartment for dinner. Tom wanted to try a threesome, and that was okay with me and, apparently, okay with his girlfriend, Sarah, too--and that makes three. Sarah's boyfriends and I, whomever they may be at the time, share her. Between us; she's such a little bitch, she can never get enough. Tut, tut! Although, I, a lone woman, and my preference that of Woman, herself: I-will-have the occasional fling with a guy, just to clean-out my holes, that is; to clean-out my pie. Chapter 6. Usually, I use one of Sarah's current boyfriends. More due to sheer laziness of convenience on my behalf, rather than out of jealousy, envy or the employment of trivial emotional chides. I let Sarah do the prospecting, and I refine the rough ore, picking out a rare jewel, now and again, rejecting the slag, distilling---decanting-off the impurities, reducing the volume of the chaff; down--enhancing the purity unto the core. Sarah has a rather regrettable affiliation toward "the slag", but that is nothing more than an unfortunate character flaw in her. Basically, Sarah is a cunt, but she thinks she is something---more, than that: Therein lies the inherent problem...! Sarah, and I, in all ways imaginable, share; but, of course, we only share between ourselves! The third party, gets nothing, other than what they are allowed---by the sheer physical participation in [our]--vignette. The very cheek of it all...! I'm such an easy-going type though, and just lo--ve sharing, but I only "do-it" with "them" as long as "she" is there...Sarah, I mean; because, after her boyfriends unload into me, I insist! she lick all my holes clean--afterward: I like it, she likes it, he likes it---Hell, we all like it! ...It's what I call-Democratic Hedonism. Chapter 6. Sarah's told me about Tom's cock. Although it is not very long, only about six and a half inches when rock-hard, (we measured it one night; it's an average schlong.) Nevertheless, I swear, I have never seen one so thick! It looks like a baby's outstretched arm grasping at a hot-house tomato in its greedy little handy grip. Chapter 7. Sarah trawls the bars at night, picking up tit-bits of information, and delight: Here, there, and everywhere, from bar-tenders, acquaintances and those who simply haven't got a care; about the size of men's dongs: Based preferably not on rumor, but on actual-sight; listening intently through the jukebox music, through the cutting-edge of the ageing songs, of the night. Chapter 8. Sarah's love-tunnel isn't very deep, but I swear I could get into it with both my feet, if I tried. Her vulva is like a horse's collar, and more-often-than-not, it smells like one too. I constantly have to remind her to wash it, but it's an exercise in futility, I have concluded: I holler, but the shouting only creates---ennui, its true. Her pussy is in such demand: In use so often, and regularly, that it's a total lost cause, I feel--so I'll be dammed! I, simply, just don't know how she handles the sheer volume of cumm that flows her way, in an average day, the calculation construed: The mind reels! If Sarah washed her cunt after every time; she allowed men to use it, then the poor swollen vent, would be scrubbed red raw, in its prime, allowing for those who would, abuse it. So it remains--relatively clean, but somewhat...stinky, at all times. Sarah has a stinky cunt, but, if one loves Sarah, then, one has to love her stink too! Chapter 9. I have to admit, I do--sort of--get turned on by Sarah's scent, but unless I stay on-top of her, well, let's just think---"Fish Market!" at 5pm on a Saturday afternoon, after a busy day's trading! With practical supervision, Sarah can produce a scent not unlike, that of fresh sturgeon-row set on ice, sprinkled with a pinch of crystallized sea-salt, gathered from the very evaporation-pools found glinting, serenely, amid the setting suns, of wind blown days, timed-out, along a pristine, isolated, coast; along an encrusted-rim of the Caspian itself, garnished by a lone sprig of crushed mint leaf, and an adroit twist of lemon-peel zest...! It [is] rather---special. Chapter 8. Sarah hones in on men with short thick dongs, like a side-winder tomahawk heat-seeking missile: Rushing at the after-burner's heat of a retreating, yet, doomed, inferior, hostile, fighter-bogie, infiltrating her legislated, territorial, sky-domain...and she never misses! Chapter 9. After Sarah's initial-tactical-victory, where she either forces her [bogie] nemesis to land as a prisoner-of-war, into the open arms of her unconditional surrender, [and apparent--love], or simply shoots them down in flames, without as much of a thought, as she would have had in the contemplation of a chip of nail varnish, inflicted upon a single toe-nail, in the wearing of peep-toed sandals, on a trip to a rather tiresome beach, of greater pebble content, as opposed to, strictly, the general, anticipated, benign sandy version--of it: She either reels them in, or cuts them loose, with little, or no compunction, either way. After all, she has two mouths to feed, when all is told! Yes, I get hungry too! Bitch! Chapter 9. Eventually, like all relationships, when the defeated bite back, when the worm, finally turns...when they get tired of [the] cunt, and start probing [the] rose-bud, well, that's where I come in. I always know when it happens too. I don't hear from Sarah for a week or three, because she's--"in lo--ve"--Oh, God! Give-me-a-break! Then, out of the blue, she wants to introduce me to her new boyfriend, over dinner--at my place usually? Bitch! Invariably, during casual dinner chat, "The Coke-Bottle Story", just happens to come up in casual conversation! I know then, Sarah has brought her latest 'concubine' over to try and quench his thirst for fudge-packing. Sarah's bung-hole, you see, is as tight as a crab's ass at ten thousand fathoms, unlike her pussy hole...! I watch her as she attempts to maneuver the whole focus of the dinner-party around to meet her own end. She wants to borrow my bung-hole for the night, that's what she's after, and she wants to give [it] to Tom, in the fervent hope that this [new] beau, will-not-evolve into another ex-beau, as per-usual. Chapter 9. Poor Sarah, always, '...Looking for love, in all the wrong places...' Sarah is lucky I'm a good friend--and that I just love getting my fudge packed--but that's totally besides the point! She owes me, and that's that! Chapter 10. I'm the very opposite of Sarah. I have the longer, narrower, more slender type of love-tunnel, but can get almost anything into my ass-hole. At a mutual friend's birthday party: Where we all got a little too drunk, and the games--well, yes, they also became a little-too-naughty, as well! ...Sarah won-her-game category, by taking a rather large gourd deep into her pussy-hole: Some seven inches in diameter, it was! She didn't bat an eyelid, the little trooper; a tear came to my eye, as I watched her "take-it", and take it all, valiantly...! And I swear, the little brave bitch had room to spare, to be sure...to be sure! Chapter 11. I won my category, by taking a 2 liter coke bottle all the way up my bung-hole, blunt side first! I came hard the instant it was pushed it into me, and sprayed the lot of them from head-to-toe, before they could move out of my firing range of my pee-pee hole. It cost me a weeks wages in dry-cleaning bills, those bitches were pissed, in more ways than one, I guess? After some considerable coaxing, (and I do so, so, love the coaxing), and a couple of glasses of wine, to boot, I was enticed into showing-off my party trick for Tom, after dinner: But, "Not! on this occasion.", I thought to myself. No, not with the 2 liter bottle! I didn't want to have to deal with all the cleaning-up in the morning! I had to be at work early, and I always cumm and squirt everywhere with the 2 liter size. So I used the wine bottle from the table instead. Chapter 12. As it happens, I might as well have done the 2 liter one anyway, and raked in the usual applause for it at the end, because Sarah grabbed the neck of the wine bottle sticking out of my bung-hole, and did my ass good and proper with it! OoOoOoOoOW! It felt so good though, that I just couldn't find the will [in me] to stop her. In fact I had both my hands grasped tightly around her wrists helping her thrusts! I wanted it all the way into me, hard and fast--blunt and relentless! I was laying flat on my back in the middle of the floor: Tom holding my legs apart all way-up over and beyond my shoulders. Sarah, meanwhile, was pumping away at my ass-hole, with the bottle, like she was making butter the old fashion way. I came. ...Long, and sure, with a sharp intensity, that opened my urethra wide! My cunt was quivering: shooting blast, after blast, of piss out of me with each and every inward thrust of the bottom of the Chardonnay bottle, rammed deep into my bung-hole without quarter, until every fucking drop of warm golden rain was in the process, of being pumped out of my bulging wine-filled bladder, squirting high up into the air above us, like a reluctant, hesitant, fountain, malfunctioning in a sunny square, somewhere, in a courtyard of Seville. Chapter 13. The squirts were so powerful that they hit ceiling. The sheer force of the stream intersecting a flat plane at a slightly oblique angle from perpendicular, resulted in creating a plume: A spray, billowing-out from the impact zone; raining-down over the three of us, almost atomized, until we were drenched to the skin, with my warm, lemon-colored, urine. Sarah pulled the container out of my ass, the bottom-dimple packed solid with my mud. The travel along the body of the bottle rimming-out, at about 8 inches up. It made a loud pop as it came out, and my ass-hole slammed-shut, tighter than a virgin's bedroom door, after the reception, of an arranged marriage; in the face of the eager, drooling groom. Chapter 14. A moment later, internal pressure that had been built-up in my anal chamber by the relentless, vicious, pumping of that bitch Sarah-on-the-bottle; finally got its release...! It let-loose with a deep, protracted, fairly baritone fart: A humid wind, issued-forth out of my innards, with such immediate force; vibrating the over-stretched curtains of my bung-hole, in such a manner, as to closely mimic, a rendition, not unlike a sextet of trombone, mixing-it-up in a New Orleans funeral march parade. I blushed red with embarrassment! ...And the air was filled with a thick aroma of wet clay, mixed with honey, and cinnamon, coupled with that pungent smell, that comes off the steaming wet coat of a galloping horse. Sarah loves it, and make me 'pooh' in her face, with her finger, as she licks my slit for hours during an evening: I let her have her way with me of-a-night. It allows me time to catch up on my reading, while she is quietly occupied. I like to read. Excerpt from the Diary of the Big Bad Wolf OWRRRR WOOF WOOF OWRRRRRRRRRRRR WOOF BARK *HACK UP FURBALL* OWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR OWRRRRRRRRRRRRRR WOOF WOOF OWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR YIP YP BARK WOOF Translation: It was a lovely afternoon when I was strolling along the forest path. I had just had a tasty meal of rabbit au natural and now I had a yearning for a nibble of pussy a la carte. Imagine my luck when up ahead on the path I noticed a slim wafer of a human female traipsing along swinging a picnic basket. She wore a long red cloak that went down to her mid thigh and from this distance she was wearing either really short shorts or just the cloak with red knee high stilettos. I couldn't tell much of her from the back and she had her hood up so all I caught sight of was wisps of long hair that bounced out occasionally from within the hood. I could figure out what kind of mood she was in though from the song she was singing to herself as she went along; "Do me, baby". Yep, it was indeed a lovely afternoon in the forest! I followed her for about twenty minutes, keeping far enough back that she wouldn't sense my presence and stuck to the outer edge of the pathway, just in case I had to jump into the bushes though at that point there was only one bush that I really wanted to jump into. She came upon a small clearing and stopped. There were a couple of tree stumps in almost the dead center of the clearing and she pulled a small towel out of her picnic basket, placed it on one of the stumps and then sat down. I could see now why see would need a towel -- she had neglected to wear any underwear and apparently any sort of bottom cover with the exception of the cloak. From my vantage point I could see her fine ass as she sat down...I licked my lips but decided not to approach her yet but to watch instead. The girl began to hum quietly to herself, staying immobile as the little forest creatures that hid themselves on her approach peeked out of their respective spots. I moved in closer, just behind a bush on the edge of the clearing. While I still couldn't see her face, I could see that she was slightly weaving back and forth to her own little song. She reached into her picnic basket gingerly and pulled out a half a loaf of bread and started to break it up, tossing pieces on the ground around her. A squirrel came from one of the trees and grabbed one of the pieces of bread and sampled it. It gave a little squeak and other animals began to move in closer to the feast that the girl had provided. I heard a snap and Roger, a year old buck stepped out into the clearing. I heard the girl gently calling to Roger to come and have some bread with her. He put his knobby antlers down toward her in a gesture of authority; the girl giggled and assured him that she understood that he was the boss and if he came closer, she had something special in her basket just for something as commanding as him. Satisfied, Roger stepped up to the girl as she reached into the basket, cooing all the time about what a beautiful and strapping buck Roger was. Roger came up and was nose to basket, sniffing around the girl's hand that was underneath the cloth that hid the treasure trove of goodies the basket held. Her other hand went up and petted Roger's neck. "Does the nice deer want something good?" she asked as she stroked Roger's neck. Roger snorted in an affirmative. I saw a glint of metal from underneath the cloth. Roger, I surmised, was about to get severely fucked up. The girl's hand moved swiftly from under the cloth, I heard the click of a safety and then the booming of a pistol and saw the top of Roger's head and brain flying straight up in the air. The other animals scattered as Roger's brain and eyes landed around the girl. He stood still for a second and then dropped to the ground. "Granny's cooking venison tonight," The girl giggled as she wiped the pistol's barrel with the cloth. I shifted my hind legs, and a branch snapped. The girl twirled around at the direction of the sound. She pulled the hood from her head to reveal that she had ling bright red hair that almost matched the cloak's colouring. The darkness of her eyes deepened as she snarled in my general direction, "Who's there? Come on out you fucking freak, I know someone's there?" I heard the cocking of the safety on the pistol being readied. She didn't aim in any particular direction but held it loosely in her hand as she held the barrel parallel with her left ear. I knew that while she looked casual, she could quickly drop, aim and fire without any hesitation. I stepped from my position from behind the thicket into the openness of the clearing; I was glad that I had fur covering my reddening cheeks. "Good afternoon," I said nonchalantly. "I'm the big bad wolf." "I'm Little Red," she introduced herself to me. She looked harshly at my lupine form for the longest time -- gauging, I imagine, the threat level I posed to her. She must have decided that I was mostly harmless as she put the pistol back into the picnic basket. I walked slowly until I was only a few feet in front of her and then sat down, keeping my forelegs taunt for a quick escape. She looked me over, her eyes stopping at my forepaws...I was quite used to that -- after all as far as I know, I'm the only wolf who has human fingers on his front paws rather than claws, and that I could speak human with a fair bit of ease. "So what are you?' she asked, "A fucked up werewolf?" I barked out a short laugh. "Hardly," I responded, "I'm a were-human. A few years back my momma was watching a woodsman chopping down a tree. The woodsman stopped and noticed there was a knot in the wood that was vaginal shaped at crotch level. He looked at it lovingly for a moment, he swung his axe and planted it firmly just above his head into the tree and dropped his pants. He inserted his hardness into the tree, put his arms around the tree and started banging away. What he failed to realize was that the axe wasn't in as far as he thought. His violent thrusts into the knot loosened the axe and it fell straight down, lopping off his dick from his body. His still hard dick popped out of the tree and my momma quickly raced and retrieved it while the woodsman was rolling on the ground. As she ran, it slipped from her mouth and in an effort to turn to grab it again; she accidentally sat down on it. Her momentum forced into her and...well, this is just conjecture on my part...the woodsman must have been an early bird because she felt something other than blood oozing into her. The penis quickly lost its hardness and plopped out of her but a few months later....well, here I am." Little Red looked at me silently for a moment. "That's the most fucked up story I ever heard," she opined. "You asked," I said defensively. She gave a little smile as a gesture of apology. "So anything else wrong with you other than your fingers...and your vocal cords?" "Well, I have an outie instead of an innie." "An outie?" I stood up on my back legs to reveal my underbelly to show her my outie. She looked and a gleam crossed her dark eyes. I have no idea what she thought an outie was, after all, I was talking about my penis. All the other wolves had theirs protected and only when they were excited did it come out of its protective sheath -- mine always hung down. It wasn't that big of a deal unless I accidentally stumbled into a thicket of thorns... I couldn't stand any longer so I dropped down to all four legs. She told me to come closer and put my forepaws on her shoulders. I tilted my head to the side and bent my ears back a little, but she assured me that it was quite alright -- she wasn't going to hurt me. I walked up to her and laid my fingered paws on her shoulders. She put her hands on my shoulders and ran them down the sides of my body all the way to my back legs. With each stroke down she narrowed her range until both her hands were running lightly down my chest and down to my inner thighs. I resisted the urge to howl but I'm sure the hardening of my cock gave away the excitement that I was feeling from her touch. She lightly stroked my cock with just her fingernails and then looked up at me to see the sheer enjoyment that I was feeling with each feathery sensation that she provided. Little Red removed my paws from her shoulder and smiled. She moved off the stump and laid down in the grass, propping her self up with her elbows and lifted one of her eyebrows up. "So you going to show me what a big bad wolf does to innocent waifs who enter the woods by their lonesome?" she challenged lustily, "Or is the stress point on the fairy part of the fairy tale?" I moved directly to her side and bit down on the buttons of her cloak; with the removal of each button more of what was underneath revealed itself to me -- which was that she indeed wore nothing underneath the red cloak. As I bit and removed the last button and the cloak opened fully to show her shapely naked body and her nicely trimmed pubic mound I flashed a quick look up at her face. Little Red smiled and shrugged and answered my unasked query, "We have a really informal and natural family dynamic." I gave a quick yip of understanding and flicked her left nipple with my tongue. I let my tongue hang out of my mouth and traced the outline of her left breast then her right. Both of her nipples hardened at my gentle touch, and reacted by getting even harder as I let my fangs scrape featherly against them. "Fuck," Little Red cooed as she reached and scratched between my ears. "Now I wish we would have had something bigger than a little peke when I was growing up." "Something tells me had an awful lot of big peeks growing up," I said, "Why else would you have such an informal family?" Little Red scowled and growled, "Less talk, more tongue...today I'm your bitch, got it?" "Got it," I said and continued to roll my tongue back and forth along her hard nipples as her breathing got deeper. I put my palm against her moist mound, letting her inner warmth seep into my pores. The aroma of her sweet wetness teased my nostrils and I could no longer resist the urge to taste her. I moved my tongue down her stomach and circled her vaginal lips. A tiny 'ooohhhh' escaped Little Red's lips as my tongue moved back and forth along her outer folds. I thought for a moment to mention that her clitoral hood was almost as red as her cloak, but the pulsating rhythm of her plump clit quickly made me forget about my quip. I lifted my head up slightly so that my tongue just hovered over her sex and let my saliva drip onto her engorged clit. It stiffened even more with the heat of my breath panting over it. "Lick my clit," Little Red whispered as her fingers curled into my furred shoulder. "I want to feel that tongue on my twat, baby. I need it so bad." To stress her point, she raised her hips to bring her clit to touch the tip of my tongue. Her need made my cock throb as I moved between her legs to give me a more open space to eat. As soon as I my tongue ran up and down her clit, Little Red came. I kept licking and sucking, making her squirm and moan. She squeezed the sides of my head with her thighs and when she started to buck into her sopping pussy into my face, I slid one of my fingers into her dripping pussy. I coordinated my tongue and my finger's thrusts with each other and then added another finger when she began to moan even louder. She grabbed me by my ears and pushed my snout deeper into her and came all over my furry face. I knew she was ready. I flipped her onto her knees and stood behind her, slowly running my hard cock down her pussy, teasing her clit. I slid my hardness in, inch by inch, relishing in the warmth of Little Red's vagina against the contrast of the cool breeze that wafted over my exposed shaft. I finally had my cock entirely surrounded by her tightness and began to pump as she reached down to feel it slide in and out of her. I grabbed her waist and began to force her hips into mine. Little Red's pussy lips tried to hold my cock in place as if to keep it forever in it, but her excitement made my cock too slick to be stuck within. Each time I pulled my cock out I felt her pussy's suction on my cock. I started to moan, smacking Little Red's ass. She reached down and started to rub her clit; letting her fingers touch my balls as they slapped against her ass. As I started to get closer to cumming, I started thrusting harder and harder. Her pussy responded by wrapping itself tightly against my cock. I knew I was about to explode so I slammed hard one last time and held it there, shooting my load into her hot hole. I could feel her own excitement enveloping my shaft and oozing out around it, soaking my furry inner thigh. I pulled out and laid next to Little Red, my tongue hanging lazily content out one side of my mouth. She rolled onto her back beside me rubbing her pubic mound slowly and lightly, wetting down her pubic hair with the thick mixture of our lust. Her eyes looked at mine for a moment and then she looked down and realized that my cock was still semi hard. She smiled and said, "My my, aren't we the eagerest for my beaver." She ran her hands up and down my furred chest, letting her hand brush lightly against my semi hardness. Finally, she leant over and started kissing me on my snout. Her kisses were short as she worked her way down my chest and to my thighs. She licked me from my sac to the tip of my cock. She watched my face carefully as she put the tip of my cock in her mouth and ran her tongue over its ridges. I closed my eyes to allow myself to get lost in the sensation that tingled and twinged from Little Red's experienced lips along my shaft. She ran her tongue up and down my shaft making my cock harden with each moist touch. She swallowed my shaft, sucking hard as she moved her mouth up and down on it, she gently cupped my balls causing a drop of pre-cum to ooze from my urethra when she retreated entirely from my cock. Little Red stood up and straddled over me. She squatted directly over my cock with her hand guided it into her moist vagina. The wetness saturated my shaft as she took every inch of my cock into her and started to bounce up and down. She leaned over and strafed my snout with her breasts. In retaliation I reached up and grabbed them, pinching and pulling at her nipples which made her tremble from her shoulders down to her thighs -- further exciting me. I started to buck my hips in time with hers, penetrating into her deeper and deeper with each thrust. I told her that I was close to cumming and she groaned that she was too. Suddenly she began to cum so hard that with every into her a flow would erupt from her and dribble down her leg. She demanded that I not cum inside her but to shoot it all over her. I told her I was about to cum and she quickly slid off my cock and positioned her face over my cock with her mouth open. I grabbed her ass and slid a couple of fingers inside her sopping pussy at the same time my shaft began to erupt. With each spasm of release I jammed my fingers hard into her, Little Red screamed in pleasure and rammed her hips back hard to meet my fingers. She wore my cum all over her breasts and nipples as if they were jewelry. She gave me a little wink and put her mouth over my cock and sucked what was left from my pulsating shaft. Her tongue rolled around the tip of my cock. I pushed Little Red off my cock and stepped back to catch my breath. She stared at my crotch hungrily, licking the cum her tongue could reach and smacking her lips noisily. "Well, I think I'm going to have to do some editing of the fairy tale," Little Red said gruffly, "The big part is certainly right but bad part definitely isn't." OWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Translation: I'm meeting her peke for Kibbles and Bits later on tonight! Excerpts From a Diary 11/01/8 Friday Johnny called again today saying he was headed into town. I told him to call around. He did and bought some coke with him. We hit a line each and talked some shit. Johnny and I always talked shit. We drank some whisky and did more lines and then it was time for lunch. We walked around till we found a Sub-Way and ate sandwiches. Johnny had the gift of the gab running on and he was chatting away to this girl sat on her own, not much older than 18. He told her we were going back to mine to drink and sniff. She looked like she'd been around a bit. We took her back with us and she took hits of whisky till Johnny had prepped her line. She took the line and threw her head back. When it took effect she didn't shut up, talking shit about everything; told her life story, then flashed me and Johnny a look at her tits. They were big. We cut another line each, Johnny wanted to do one off her tits. She had no problem getting them out and letting us snort off them. She said she wanted to do one off Johnny's cock. Johnny said his cock was hard and he got it out and held it still whilst she did the line. After she'd snorted she licked the head of his cock and laughed. Fuck man... things were getting interesting. We drank more and kept talking shit, she flashed us a few times and Johnny waved his cock around whenever she did. I sat back and watched, buzzing and enjoying their show. The next time she flashed she raised a tit to her mouth and tongued the nipple. She didn't bother covering herself back up again and just sat there with her tits out, her nipples real hard. Johnny suggested that we all strip off and was naked before he'd even finished the sentence. I thought fuck it and stripped down. Alice did likewise and Johnny and I did another line off her, Johnny took the tits again and I did the line off her arse. She cut a line on my cock and after she had snorted it she licked it like she had Johnny's. Johnny proclaimed this to be unfair and stuck his cock in her face, she licked it started sucking at both our cocks, taking both in her mouth, then taking us one at time, all the way to the balls. I came first and sat back and took hits from the whisky as I watched her finish Johnny off in her mouth. We cut three more lines and the coke was gone. Alice still wouldn't shut up talking shit. I went for a piss and when I came back Johnny was doing her from behind. He told me to get in front and put my cock in her mouth. We roasted her good. She sat up and looked pleased with herself. Johnny slipped on his jeans and tee and went to get some more coke. Alice and I hung around drinking whisky. We ordered food, masses of Chinese, and I ate her out whilst we waited for the food and Johnny to arrive with the coke. Johnny came back just after the food arrived, we ate and did more lines and then fucked again. Johnny left about midnight, Alice stayed around a little longer till we'd finished the last bottle. She sucked my cock again and then left. 17/01/08 Thursday "WAKE UP MOTHER FUCKER!!" I heard Johnny shouting outside the front door. "Come on! It's party day!" I let him in and asked "what the fuck?" "It's party day!!" he cut a line for us each and then said we were going out. We walked the streets, I could feel everything, I was high and happy and just feeling the morning. We took the tube to Tottenham Court Road and then went to Crobar, drank some cheap wine before going to the Fox. In the Fox we sat on high stools and spoke shit. Johnny went down to the toilets, they were flooded, he cut a line anyhow and when he returned handed me the wrap. I told him about wanting to push people on the underground in front of a train, he told me I needed to chill, I took a hit of beer and went to do my line. When we returned Johnny was talking to two girls at the bar, he brought them over to our table. We sat around and talked shit and left and got some food, the girls were with us and they came back to mine. Johnny has a way with women. He can talk them into anything. We did some lines and he got them to fuck each other. We watched, our cocks hard. We got them out and started to masturbate over the two girls fucking. "Touch his cock!" One of the girls called out, pausing from eating her friends cunt for a second. "Yeah, wank each other!!" The other girl said. Johnny and I looked at each other. "Go on!" The girls said in unison. "Don't be afraid!!" They laughed at us. Johnny shrugged and knocked my hand off my cock and replaced it with his. He stroked me slowly. Nervously I took hold of his, it was thicker than mine, but not as long. I tossed him as he tossed me and the girls fucked in front of us. I had never felt so uncomfortable. The girls came over to us and told us we were doing well and were "very brave boys." They cut some lines and did them and offered us a line each. Amber, the taller blond one, took Johnny's cock in her mouth, Jess, the brunette, started to suck mine. Johnny and I sat back and just watched each other get sucked. "Your turn now," Said Jess. "Our turn what?" "To suck each other!! Come on! Gives us a show!!" Johnny leaped up and got on his knees between my legs and took my cock in his mouth. Shit. I tried to push him off but the girls held me down. Amber straddled me and put her pussy in my face. I ate her out whilst Johnny sucked my cock. Shit this was weird. I concentrated on Amber and tried to ignore Johnny sucking my cock. Jess stood back and watched the show, then she started to lick Johnny's arse. She pushed a finger inside him and I felt his mouth tighten on my cock with the shock of it. Amber was really fucking my face now. After the play she'd had with Jess, she came quickly and climbed off me and went to kiss Amber. They started making out on the floor. Johnny took my cock out of his mouth and joined them. I got off the sofa and joined in too. I was making it with Amber whilst Johnny made it with Jess. Then I was making it with Amber and Johnny had Jess and then somehow I ended up tongue deep in Johnny's mouth. Jess and Amber made it with each other again. The four of us just swapped around for a few hours breaking to do a line off each others bodies and to drink more wine. By the time we finished, Johnny and I had had our eyes opened, after the girls left we decided to close our eyes again and never mention it again. Excerpts from a Diary November 12 1834 I am overjoyed, today Mr Van Wettering asked me to marry him, and at last I will be free of the oppressive restraint of my Uncle. Tomorrow he is going to ask my Uncle for my hand. I do so hope he says yes, as I don't think I could bear it to see the hope of release and then it be dashed away from me. November 13 1834 Oh joy, my Uncle has agreed to our marriage, he came and told me so, but he was not happy, but as he said, if Mr Van Wettering was happy to take such a recalcitrant and troublesome wench off his hands, and put up with her disobedience he would grudgingly allow it. But he had made it plain to my fiancée that I would be trouble and he would need to discipline me in short order. Mr Van Wettering came and soothed me. He said that if I was a good and obedient wife and acted at all times in a manner becoming a well brought up young lady he would have no reason to punish me. November 16 1834 My Uncle is still not pleased, he is now complaining about the cost of my trousseau, and we have only six weeks to go before the marriage. He has agreed to pay for the wedding dress and has said I must look my best for the day. To that end I have been corsetted day and night in my stiffest corset at 35cm (14") and all day in my ballet boots. The worst is, that he has declared I am too fat and must lose some weight before the wedding, to that end I am on a bread and water diet and at night I am sleeping in three layers of my leather sleeping bags, each laced to the utmost, under 4 layers of blankets and roaring fire in my bedroom, I wake in the morning dripping in perspiration. Thank goodness I have only six weeks left to go before I am free. November 30th 1834 Mr Van Wettering has shamed my Uncle into paying for my trousseau; we are to visit the dressmakers tomorrow to discuss my new wardrobe and other necessities. He has made a list of the effects that I should insist on :- The very latest fashions (as in the East Indies I will not get new ones for a very long time) Hardwearing materials with strong liners and double stitched seams (as they have got to last) Veiled sun bonnets (to protect my skin from sea air on the voyage and the East Indies sun) These requests seem to be in good judgement, but when I mentioned that I would be glad of the release from my steel corsets and the steeple heels, he looked so dejected. He admitted when pressed that it had been my waspwaist when laced to the utmost as it was today and my neat turned foot, that had so attracted him to me and he would so like me to continue if I could. I could not turn him down and to tell the truth, after two weeks of continuous wear at 35cm (14") and due to my diet I have lost a stone, I think I could manage. And he also assured me that I would never have to walk far in the Indies as carriage would be available to me at all times. November 31st 1834 Today we visited Mrs Van Ousten the dressmaker, to order my trousseau, she has declared that with so little time it will be a difficult order to fulfil. Heeding Mr Van Wetterings list, I have insisted on the very latest fashions. The dressmaker then came out with some fashion plates from Paris, they showed that the beret sleeves were now even larger than my current dresses and hats of an even greater width. The collars were shown as higher and tighter and every design was festooned with frills and furbelows. Mrs Van Ousten tried to dissuade me from such extravagances, suggesting that they were unsuitable for foreign climes, would be difficult to achieve in such a short period and finally that they would be very costly. This last remark spurred me on. I declared that my Uncle had agreed to pay for the wardrobe and he would be very affronted if I did not have the best. After that, things went a deal smoother and the styles were finalised, morning dresses, day dresses, evening dresses all in the very latest fashion, I shall be a credit to my new husband. Later on Mrs Van Ousten later tried to then suggest some pale flimsy fabrics, she insisted were suitable for the tropical climes and heeding Mr Van Wetterings suggestion, I ignored her suggestions and ordered thicker fabrics and then insisted they be lined with her thickest strongest lining material and double stitched seams. When the subject of sun bonnets hats came up, I again insisted that they be capacious with a stiffened coiffe and thick veils to protect my skin. Mrs Van Ousten agreed with all this and finished her long list. Editor :- In 1834 the size beret sleeves was reducing and as such we assume that the fashion plates shown to Gabrielle were cartoons as above left. December 2nd 1834 Today we visited the stay makers to order corsets, I tried a little to dissuade him from the rigid steel boned corsets, but he looked so unhappy that I had to desist, so unhappy was he that I even relented when he asked that the stays be made longer top and bottom to give me a more womanly figure and when he enquired of any design that could make my waist look smaller, the corsetiere suggested heavier side boning to reshape my waist into a more oval shape and I said nothing. These little things are as nothing to be free of my Uncle. I have even agreed to an Austrian training belt to help reshape my waist, I am not sure what one of this but I think it cannot be so bad. December 7th 1834 These last few days have been awful, four days ago I was getting ready to visit the boot makers, and I was obviously to buoyant and happy for my Uncles liking. For the last few days, he has allowed me from the house unbound, but that morning I was singing a happy tune, not loud, as I can still not manage even half a breath in my rigid stays and for some reason he took umbrage, he ordered, Lissa my maid to lace my corset fully closed for its whole length which left me gasping for air, bind my arms up double, attach my false ones, draw my shoulder brace fully back, fill my mouth with a kerchief and cover it with a full mask, then a heavy veil which restricted my vision to nought and then my most tunnel brimmed bonnet, capped above with my largest hat ( which is an unbridled confection that I will be glad to see gone). Along with the ballet heels and a short ankle chain I was totally helpless, mute and nearly blind as Mr Van Wettering escorted me from the house and it took an age for me to reach the carriage with my unbalanced, miniscule steps. We exited the carriage half a street away from the stay makers as he wished to show me the new desk he ordered to be taken back to the East Indies. I tried to indicate that I wished to continue in the carriage, but as I was mute, and could not signal with my bound arms, I had to follow, when he lead me down the street, the walk of only 80 yards took us over half an hour and I must have looked a sight on the busy thoroughfare, but I could not tell as all I could see were vague outlines due to the heavy veil and tunnel brim. At the boot makers, Mr Van Wettering had to conduct the proceedings and although I had agreed the day before that slightly higher heels would improve the look of my new dresses to offset the greater width, on the advice of the boot maker he has ordered ballet heels with a 75mm (3") platform built into the toe. My dear fiancée seemed unsure of this decision, I tried to signal no, but to no avail and when the boot maker stated that it was the fashion. My fiancée then agreed telling the boot maker that I was adamant that I have the very latest fashions when I left Holland. I cannot blame him he was not too know that I will hardly be able to manage a 75mm (3") step in such prodigious footwear. He also ordered what the bootmaker said was the very latest thing, bedroom boots, these are ballet boots with no heel at all and long curved toes. At least they are only for use in the bedroom and I wont have to walk on them. Editor :- There is some evidence of ballet boots being in fashion in the 19th century as can be seen from the 1851 white ballet boots shown and the 1890 gold boots shoes middle and the 1890 boots left. But to say that they were fashionable in the 1830's seems in doubt. Those mentioned above would seem to be a special case for Gabrielle. We then left the boot makers and the carriage was still where we had got down from it. Or so I soon found out, because I could discern nothing. So we had to walk all the way back along the street. Mr Van Wettering asked me to hurry as much as I was able, as he said that my Uncle had asked that I be prompt for lunch. He grasped my arm and forced me along and I had to follow as fast the ballet heels and the ankle chain would let me, this was not any speed at all. All this activity made me perspire and my limited breaths came in rasps through my nose. I felt it was not my fiancées fault as he repeated that I should try not be late and incur my Uncles wrath once again. It was to no avail, lunch was already served when we returned. My Uncle was livid and took it out on Mr Van Wettering and barred him from the house. After lunch my Uncle then directed his wrath at me, he led me to the sitting room and ordered Lissa to undress me to my smalls, leaving only my boots, and my arm binders and mask. He then instructed her to fetch my longest and heaviest corset, I guessed what was to come and moved to one corner of room, my Uncle opened a cupboard and removed the post and screwed it into the floor and then I warily backed up to it. Lissa returned and proceeded to lace me into the corset, with the 3ft high post inside, she laced up down from ankle to neck and back again until I was totally rigid and gasping for air, she was about to tie off when, my Uncle pushed her aside and laced again, hauling on the laces with all his might. I fainted but could not fall, supported as I was by the wooden post. I was revived by smelling salts and found myself fully dressed again in my most sumptuous day dress, and a massive wig had been placed over my mask. With some regret I saw that my Uncles wrath had also extended to my Aunt and she stood in the opposite corner equally trammelled. Her waist was the smallest I had seen it for a long time, and from the pressure at my waist mine must have smaller than my current 35cm (15"), I would guess at 31 cm (13½") although I never found out for sure and soon after I fainted again. Later that day I was released, cleansed, fed on bread and water and closed up for bed. This horrible behaviour continued everyday for my Aunt and me for the next three days and I have just been released. The most embarrassing thing was that today Mr Van Wettering gained entry and remonstrated with my Uncle, who took great delight in showing my fiancée, how I was restrained making him watch as each of the items was stripped off in front of him. When my corset was finally unlaced and Lissa started undoing the extended busk, I was glad that Mr Van Wettering could stand no more and left, before he saw me in my undervest. I am not sure when my Uncle will let us meet again, he surely can keep us apart until the wedding. December 10th 1834 I have been as quiet as church mouse, for the last three days, lest I incur my Uncles wrath, I have been released from the pole and long corset has been put away, he seems in a better mood, but has still ordered that I pass the days with arms bound, shoulders braced to the utmost (I am sure that my shoulder blades are touching) and my highest posture collar. The stays have eased to a pair that reaches only to my thighs, and my mask is gone. I can stand or lie but sitting is out of the question. Meals are taken standing as is writing this diary at the end of the day. For some reason my Aunt has not suffered much relief, she has been released from the pole but continues, gagged and masked with a monstrous red wig perched atop her head. December 12th 1834 Something has happened, I distantly heard my fiancée's voice at the front door and raised voices. Some time later my uncle gives orders to Lissa , she then bathed me, and dressed me in what could be termed normal clothes, arms unbound, a shorter corset laced to on 38cm(16"), no brace, no collar and no ballet boots. My hair was combed and arranged in a delightful arrangement and I was taken to the sitting room. My Uncle was waiting with large box of fancies and a mug of sweet chocolate. He muttered something about rumours of starving me and stomped out. I got Lissa to bring me a book and spent a leisurely afternoon eating the sweets and drinking the sweet chocolate, which was refilled three times. December 13th 1834 My Uncles punishment has wasted almost a week and only two to go before the wedding with so much to do, today I had to go for fittings at the dressmakers, stay makers and the boot makers, such a busy day. The sweets and the chocolates have kept coming and I keep eating them, as I am ravenous after my harsh diet. Mr Van Wettering does not seem welcome in the house any more and he met me at the door to escort me on my calls. The first call was to the stay makers and a pair of my new stays were fitted, they felt so tight, the new design is to give me a more oval shape and was so solid at the sides, that it could not be bent, and as I had a dress fitting later they tried to lace me down to 35cm (15") with no time to 'bed' the corsets in. After fainting three times, they had to admit defeat at 39cm (16½"), I could not believe they felt so tight and even had the stay maker lay my old current corset over the new to show that they were the same waist size. I could only manage to leave the shop with the aid of smelling salts and the much needed support of Mr Van Wetterings arm, with the stay maker apologising and assuring me that I would be used the new shape in the shortest of time. At the boot makers, my foot was levered into the tight boots with extraordinary heels and platform toes that I was sure I would not be able to walk in them. I could not bear to remonstrate with Mr Van Wettering at their ludicrous height as I was so grateful to him for the harrying of my Uncle that had gained my release from my Uncles wrath. I could hardly stand on those incredible heels and my toes were mercilessly pinched. I exited the shop and was again glad of Mr Van Wetterings strong arm as I hobbled like an old woman from the door. I am afraid I fainted again as we reached the carriage from the discomfort of the shoes and the unrelenting pressure of the oval shaped corset which was forcibly rearranging my torso and my innards. The third visit was to Mrs Van Oustens and as we slowly crossed the salon to the fitting room I was gratified to see Marta the vendeuse, showing a costume in the style of my fashion plates, she looked so elegant, a very high collar emphasised her long neck and the beret sleeves were just enormous, making her tiny waist look even smaller above the huge skirts, and from her tiny steps I also judged she is wearing the highest of heels. I noticed the dress she wore had a deep décolleté, but still came up from her shoulders to a high collar with a stiff wide frill, Marta also wore atop her much curled head, one of the new enormous hats, that I had seen in the fashion plates, Mrs Van Ousten said that it was the style that they be as wide as the beret sleeves. Mr Van Wettering commented that it was a very comely oufit and that the collar was most tasteful. Mrs Van Ousten had only managed to finish two of the morning outfits, and I was fitted for both of them, she tutted when she saw the new shape of my waist and the 1½" gap at the back, she immediately said that she would have to redo all the bodices and estimate the fit for a 15" waist. The morning dress was heavy, made as it was from a heavy sateen and many extra petticoats to fill out the massive skirts, I found the bodice, sleeves and collar very stiff, at which Mrs Van Ousten pointed out that I had ordered the strongest lining and double stitched seams. The enormous beret sleeves were even stiffer and had a rigid under structure, Mrs Van Ousten said this was the boning to support the large shape. I had tried to move my to reach upwards and found I had very little movement. I was going to say that they were totally unfeasible, when my fiancée said that I looked wonderful and would be the best dressed women in the Indies. Mrs Van Ousten also said that these sleeves caused problems, but a lady of fashion coped and that several she knew, had purchased knives and forks 1ft long so that they would be able to eat. My fiancée thought this a capital solution and said he would arrange such items. Seeing that I was in a fait accompli, I thought I would at least get my own way in one direction and noting my fiancée's approval of Marta costume, instructed Mrs Van Ousten that all the evening dresses were to be provided with high collar and extreme decolette of Marta's outfit. My fiancée commented that Marta's collar was indeed very fetching, but Mrs Van Ousten put it that Marta had a long slim neck that suited that style and that I surely would not be able to manage it, My fiancée said that it did not matter if I could not accommodate the fashion, but it was such a pity. I dearly did not wish to let down my saviour and decided then and there that I would have the same collar on all my outfits, if my beloved found it so appealing. So brooking no arguments from Mrs Van Ousten I have ordered all my dresses with exactly the same collar. Now I must lie down as my new stays are gripping me so tight I feel my insides even at 16½", must be crushed, but I fear I cannot loose them as I have to be laced to 15" in them when we board the ship for the Indies. I have had to ask Lissa to take my new boots off as my toes were on fire, I fear it will be many weeks before I am any where comfortable with them. December 15th 1834 Horrors, although Mr Van Wettering has only been able to visit for a short time today, I fear he has angered my Uncle again in some way, as when he had left my ordered Lissa to dress put me in a full mask with the enormous black horsehair wig. And then on examining me he was not satisfied with the fit of the wig atop the mask as it also held my tightly bound hair underneath it. He then ordered Lissa to take of the mask and my beautiful hair was shorn completely off. He has left me bald. He was then angry again once he realised he would have to purchase some more wigs for the wedding and the trip. December 16th 1834 The wigmaker has visited today and my uncle has ordered several in a variety of violent colours in frivolous styles, there will be no way I will be able to conceal the fact that I am wearing a wig. Mrs Van Ousten called with an evening dress to try on, it was most becoming except for the new collar style, which I had specified, this was loose and very plain, not at all like the style that Marta had showed and my fiancée had so admired. I sent her away chastening her to get the collars as I had asked and to be quick about it as we leave next week. My Uncle seems a little guilty due to my shorn hair and has ordered that all my favourite foods and sweets be made available to me, I have eaten so much that I have had to ask Lissa to loosen my stays another inch. I also am slightly worried about the décolleté of the evening gown that I tried onto today, although bar the collar it was most fetching, it only just covered my breast buttons (nipples -- Ed) and displayed a fair amount of bosom. I have been struggling with ballet boots and feel sure I will not be able to manage them. I have asked that Mr Van Wettering allow me to wear some lower heels, he said that there must be something wrong, as he was sure other ladies coped with ease. This afternoon we visited the boot makers and as we were waiting another customer was being fitted into some boots of the same design as mine, once they were fitted, she stood with ease and at first walked and then even waltzed around the shop on her vertiginous heels with out so much as stumble. I was going to say to the boot maker that they were impossible to wear but after that display could only ask for advice. He has suggested that I wear them much tighter laced so that the support comes from the whole boot and not just the toes and has also packed the toes with lambs wool. Following this advice I have found more comfortable but no easier to stand or walk in, at all times I feel I am about to fall and must constantly alter my stride to cope. Excerpts from a Diary Editor : As said above, ballet heels were never a mainstream fashion. In Van Hessels effects was found a receipt for a payment to one A. Vanatola. The only reference found to that name was of Anatailia Vantaola who was a dancer in the Dutch Royal Ballet December 17th 1834 Today my Aunt visited me and gave me advice about my forthcoming married life, she was very nervous and had to keep consulting her notes. She said that I must be subservient at all times to my new husbands wishes and make myself available to satisfy his manly urgings at all times. This she said is a women's burden and I should at no time take enjoyment from the act and that it would be unladylike for me try and satisfy myself, my body was to become my husbands property and should be compliant to his will. It would seem that husband will expect to use both of my holes and my mouth to satisfy his cravings. December 18th 1834 The wedding dress has been delivered and I am surprised that my Uncle has solicited no hidden surprises. My only trial will be the waist, he has set it to close at 14½", I will be on the point of fainting for the whole ceremony. December 21st 1834 We are now married and it is my first day aboard the good ship Maartel. The ceremony was a burden as my stays were so tight and I have put some weight back on in the past two weeks, I felt sick all day. The only thought that kept me going was the knowledge that after I was married I would be free of my Uncle's control. He had one surprise left for me as when I retired to our bedroom, he had me bound in one of my sleeping sacks and trussed in red ribbon with a massive blond wig, set with ringlets stuck to my head. My new husband would not free me immediately, he was consumed with longing and I had to satisfy him 3 times with my mouth before he freed me. I fear he is not happy with me already, as I took so long to get dressed this morning. I had chosen one of the new day dresses and Lissa could not close the new stays even though they are only 15", my waist does not want to take up the new narrowed shape. Also with the new collar design, Mrs Van Ousten has gone to far, they are now so high and tight that when it was first closed I felt as though I was being garrotted and Lissa had to release the fastening and leave a gap. To cover the gap at the waist and the neck I wore a shawl on the journey down to the dock. At the last moment we found that we had ordered no new gloves and so I had to make do with some provided with my Uncle, they were so tight that it took ten minutes to fit them and I could not move my fingers at all. All this took some time and we were half an hour late leaving for the ship. Our cabin is the largest on the vessel, but even so it is very tight due to my large skirts and beret sleeves and I can hardly turn round. The doors are tiny and Lissa has had to push me through, as I cannot get enough purchase with the tiny soles of my ballet boots. Waiting in the cabin was a delightful selection of sweets and chocolates and a large jug of warm sweet chocolate, my husband is worried that after my enforced diet that I should get my strength back. I was so worried that he would he would be shocked when he saw me without my wig and a shorn head, but he was not at all fazed. He said his dear mama always wore wigs or bonnets and could see no problem. Chapter Three December 23rd 1834 My husband has declared that the stage of the journey from Amsterdam to Lisbon shall be our honeymoon and that we shall celebrate Christmas in Lisbon for two days before the voyage continues. He is most attentive and gentle during the day in our marriage bed. He has cautioned me though about speaking to the crew and purporting myself in a ladylike manner. He has stressed that I only talk to the officers as he has assured me the any of crew will take advantage of me, given any inducement. The new beret sleeves are a trial they so large and stiff I can hardly do anything for myself, I am so clumsy with long knife and fork that in the end my husband had to feed me, it was so embarrassing. I am nearly as helpless as when my arms were bound. I try and take a daily walk around the deck, very slowly as my new boots are still an ordeal. For each visit to the deck, I must remove my wig and put on one of the new sun bonnets provided by Mrs Van Ousten to protect my face from the sea air and spray, I must not complain as I ordered them changed, but did she have to make the opening so small and the brim so long, the opening comes down to my eyelashes and upto my nose and the stiffened brim sticks out a full six inches, with a heavy veil at the front. I thought to ask Lissa to unstitch the veil but my husband has asked me to leave them on, as they will be much necessary in the sun of the Indies. With the bonnet and veil on my view is down to nothing and the beret sleeves will not give me the reach to lift the veil. Back to my deck walks, I then don one of the vast hats provided by Mrs Van Ousten, they are enormous confections and so high and wide that I must bend and move sideways to pass through any of the ships doors. I then don my gloves, still the only ones I have, are the relentlessly tight ones provided by my Uncle, If the weather is fine I can then go on deck, if not Lissa arrays me in a considerable heavy cloak which buttons from neck to floor. On the deck I feel like a ship in fog in a narrow strait, my skirts are so wide I have brush heavily past every obstacle, my view is clouded by the heavy veil and my step is so unsure on the vast spindly heels that I sway unfortunately from side to side with the ships motion. I feel most stable holding onto the ships rail, which I can only just reach by pushing against my petticoated skirts with as much purchase as the tiny soles will allow and stretching forward against the stiffness and bulk of the beret sleeves. Even this relief is not allowed on the days when the weather has been inclement as the cloak has such tiny armholes that I just cannot reach the rail. I must declare that these beret sleeves, while being most fashionable and pleasing to the eye, they are dashed inconvenient and I for one shall be glad when the fashion is over. December 27th 1834 Christmas in Lisbon was a great occasion but now we are continuing our voyage and my husband has said that he must get down to work, he has several reports and accounts to write and will be so diverted for many days to come. On my part he has given me several tasks to complete. He has said that I am not as adept in the new boots as he would want, and I must admit I have stumbled and fallen several times so far. He has asked me to practice deportment, walking, turning and sitting in the boots every day. He is not pleased I have not been able to close my dresses and he has told me that several people in Lisbon noticed it and he was sure that some assumed I was with child. As such, he stated that I should endeavour to be able to fully close all my dresses by Cape Town our next port of call. He then brought out a wooden box arrayed with polished wooden dilators; I am to use these to spread my rear pleasure hole as he has said I am to tight for him to enter. I am wearing the 1" one at present and it is very uncomfortable, I feel so stuffed. I am pleased to do this for him as he has been so gentle and attentive in the last week and even though my Aunt had said that I would not enjoy the marriage bed I must declare that look forward to it greatly. I dearly hope though that 1" dilator is sufficient as the box contains four more all the way upto 4". With regard to the corset that would seem to be a different matter, I cannot see why I have so much of a problem closing it, Lissa has again measured it again and I have seen that they only have a 15" waist the same as my old ones. But the new shape is so very rigid, Lissa brought out the Austrian belt which I wondered at it's use in the staymakers, I now know it is an intrument is meant to force my waist into the much narrowed shape of the new corsets, It consists of a rigid metal 17" belt with two pads inside it, the pads can be pushed in by turning four screws with a key, two at either side. After lunch, Lissa first tightened my new stays until I fainted at 15½", she then revived me with smelling salts and applied the belt, as she tightened the four screws at first I could feel nothing through the rigid boning of the stays and then, I could not believe the pressure as it forced me in from both sides, after a few turns I fainted and Lissa left me on the cabin bed to acclimatise my waist to new pressure. When I awoke I felt my insides were being crushed, I was going to ask Lissa to release me, but I remembered that I must be able to close my corsets by Cape Town I suffered in silence. After dinner, my husband has gone back to his work, Lissa undressed me and to show my husband that I was hard at my set tasks, suffered the belt once more. My husband is very taken by my bedroom boots and has asked that wear them every night, they are not so much trouble as I don't have to walk in them. So here I sit writing my diary (which I must confess I have to do at night as I cannot see my hands to write in the beret sleeves), corsetted to nearly fainting, hobbled to sitting in these preposterous boots, waiting for my husband to join me in bed. I will wear the corset and belt until then. I hope he comes soon as I have so enjoyed his bedtime advances. In the mornings he has asked me wake him by sucking his tool, so that it comes to a summit without waking him, he says with practice I will proficient that he wakes with a spurt every morning. This is not so satisfying as when uses my front pleasure hole, but I wish to be a good wife and so if he is happy, then so am I. I hear his voice, he is coming .... December 29th 1834 I fear I am not pleasing my husband, I have made no progress with my waist and seeing his displeasure I have taken wearing my stays and the belt to bed, last night he tried to enter my rear pleasure hole and found it still to tight, today I have suffered the 2" dilator and it took Lissa 10 minutes to stuff it into my arse. I can only manage to walk with a waddle with it inserted, it feels so big and my husband viewed my deportment lesson in the saloon and walked out, when he saw my clumsiness. As to my new wardrobe, I still cannot close a single dress at the waist or neck, I have suggested that we get them altered in Cape Town and he was livid, saying that we have not the time or the wherewithal to get them altered and as I had ordered the dresses I must endeavour to get into them, I feel terrible it is all my own fault, I did order the collars as tight even sending them back to be made tighter, and I thought I would have no trouble with the waist as I could manage 15" before. Also my husband has not serviced me below for two nights now and I fear I have angered him to far. I must try harder to be good wife, as I must admit my lower regions are on fire without his affections. January 5th 1835 The list of wrongdoings grows in my husbands eyes, while on deck I stopped to talk to sailor and word of it got back to my husband, I still cannot accept him from behind even though I have been wearing the 2" dilator constantly, even replacing it after my husbands nightly attempts at entry. But last night I saw him at his most angry, as I have only serviced him with my mouth for the last week, the fire in my loins is undamped and I could not help myself, the urge was to great and used my finger to smother my urges, he woke to my moans and was exceeding heated, admonishing me saying that he had thought he married a well brought up young lady and here he finds her pleasuring herself like a common whore. I must try to resist my urges as I do so want him to be proud of me. Editor :- From Mr Van Wetterings papers, we can establish that he was dosing Gabrielle's chocolate with large amounts of an East Indies version of Spanish Fly (an aphrodisiac). It was no wonder that she found herself constantly overwhelmed by sexual tension. January 7th 1835 Today was not one of the best, while walking on deck with, I tried to scale 3 stairs unattended, as I cannot feel the steps with my tiny toeboots, and my legs are trammelled by some my thirteen ruffled petticoats and my vision is impaired by my tunnelled sunbonnets, I happened to trip, luckily my fall was caught by a sailor who was rapidly submerged under a mass of cloth, the poor man could not help it, but the only solid place he could get good purchase in the mountain of material to lift me off was my waist and bosom, he apologised as he lifted me and I thanked him and hoped my husband did not hear. He did find out, he was most angry, I tried to explain the reasons and I was rebutted when he said that if I put more effort into my deportment lessons, I would not have such problems. I spent an extra hour practicing moving and sitting on my heels, my feet felt like they were aflame from so much walking. January 9th 1835 I could not help it, if only he would satisfy me to put out these cravings, I have tried to resist but this afternoon when I was laying down suffering the Austrian belt, my hand strayed down and I could not help myself, my moans were so loud that my husband came from his office next door to catch me in the act. He has now ordered that I must now take my afternoon rest fully clothed, with the belt atop my dress. January 10th 1835 I can now only write in my diary for the short time after I am undressed, before I retire, my husband has stated that Lissa must attend when I am undressed as he cannot trust me. This afternoon, he checked that I was fully clothed in my cabin and even tightened each of my belt screws two turns at which I fainted. I must try harder to be a good wife to my husband. January 11th 1835 Last night my husband again attempted to enter my rear hole, but could not manage it, he was very angry, he ordered me to walk around the cabin on the tip toes of my bedroom boots, and I had to stagger from one support to the next, and fetch the dilator box, I brought it back to the bed and I bent over while he rammed the 2½" dilator up my arse without pause, I cried and he made me bite on the pillow until I stopped. January 13th 1835 We have entered the doldrums, it is so hot and not a breath of wind, the sailors have all stripped to the waist, whilst I when I am deck and I am covered by 6 layers on top and 13 petticoats below, any exertion and I want to faint. All I can do is try to stay quiet and gasp for air. January 15th 1835 Today I managed at last to close my collar by using the Austrian belt on my neck, in the mirror the collar of the day dress looks beautiful making my neck look long and slim and the large befrilled collar framing my face, underneath though my neck is held as if in a corset. I pant for breath and no longer turn my head or lift up nor down, it is worse than wearing a posture collar as I know I must suffer this all day. My husband is pleased though and has asked that I wear my best evening dress to dinner with waist closed as much as I can manage and the collar closed fully. I shall try my best I do so want to please him. January 16th 1835 I am in disgrace again, last night before dinner, I had used the Austrian belt to close both my corset and my collar, the last inch of the corset had caused terrible pain, forcing my ribs up and squeezing my sides to nothing until I am only 3" across my waist. My breath came in rapid pants and I could only sit on the perched on the edge of the chair, legs bent double , trying to keep my body straight so that I did not have to bend at the waist. There was nothing I could do about it, that dress has the largest sleeves of all I cannot even touch my bodice let alone adjust it. As the panting continued through the meal I could feel my décolleté slipping and my breast buttons moving upwards. Then one of them popped out right in front of the Captain I was so embarrassed, I fainted. When I awoke my husband berated me saying that he had never been so embarrassed before in his life and it was not to happen again. Today Lissa and I have examined all my evening dresses but they are all of the same design, we have decided that with the increased uplift of the fully tightened stays and the fact that I have put all the weight back on that was lost in my enforced diet at the time the dresses were fitted that it will surely happen again. I was at a loss until Lissa suggested tying them down. So tonight I went to dinner fully laced again with a piece of cotton tied to each nipple and then down to the top of the corset. I asked Lissa to pull them down extra tight. The pain was excruciating and it got worse through the meal as my panting forced my breasts higher and higher. My husband was very pleased with my ingenuity and so I shall have to suffer it from now on until another solution can be found. January 18th 1835 My husband still has not serviced me I am constantly on edge, he declares himself to tired and he is working from dawn to dusk, although I have serviced him three times today with my mouth, also I am still not wide enough to for him to enter my behind and this is displeasing him. Today I tried the 3" dilator, Lissa pushed for an hour but could not get it fully in, I seem to be much tighter lower down with the tightness of the corset. In the end we managed to get it fully in with the aid of a large dollop of fat from the ships galley. I feel so full down below I think I am going to burst. While I was resting this afternoon, laid on my bed fully dressed and the Austrian belt tightened, I tried to reach down and pull my skirts up, the bloated beret sleeves hindered me and there was to much volume of material for me to reach over with my hampered arms, at this point my husband entered and knew immediately what I was trying to do. Now Lissa has to sit with in the cabin whilst I am resting. January 21st 1835 Last night I disgraced myself again, in the heat I needed some relief and must admit that I did fondle myself again. I could not help myself, with the heat and the lack of attention from my husband I just could not help myself. He was beside himself, saying that he could not believe that any lady of breeding had such a lack of self-restraint. This morning he vowed to do something about and went to his office and returned with a letter. He told me that it was from Uncle and should be opened when it became clear that his niece required punishment. He had told my Uncle at the time that he did not think he would ever have to open it. When he had read it, he informed me that his Uncle had predicted an event such as last night and that all his nieces restraint equipment was packed in a crate in the hold. He sent Lissa to get it opened and bring back a pair of arm binders. As I finish this entry Lissa stands by and soon I must bend my arms back doubled so that she can bind them. My husband has declared that this will happen henceforward until I have demonstrated some self control. January 23rd 1835 My torment increases, every night I wish for husband to satisfy my front pleasure hole, and every night he bemoans the fact that he cannot enter my back pleasure hole. I must persevere. January 25th 1835 We are two days from Cape Town, I shall be glad of some time off the ship. January 26th 1835 I have fallen again, last night my husband briefly enter my front pleasure hole, bringing me hopes of release, but the he exited and had me finish him off with my mouth. I could not help myself and as I could reach with my arms bound I bent my leg double and used the long toe of the bedroom boots to satisfy myself. My husband was so enraged I thought he was going to strike me. He has said nothing to me this morning even though I woke him perfectly as he spurted which I find a very difficult task just supporting my self on my bound elbows. Tonight he has sworn he will not put with my lack of discipline. Excerpts from a Diary January 27th 1835 We docked this morning and my husband went off with a pair of arm binders leaving me aboard the ship. A dressmaker has visited and talked with Lissa and left with most of my dresses. My husband returned later with another set of binders, this time for the legs. This afternoon, Lissa undressed me, and fitted my bedroom boots, the Austrian belt and then my arm binders, I lay on the bed and my husband bent my legs back behind me. Informing me that he would brook no lewd behaviour from his wife, he then fitted leg binders to me so that my bedroom boots were lashed hard to my bottom. I complained bitterly and he produced a gag and gagged me and Lissa fitted a face mask over my head. I had to suffer in bound silence. As I lay bound I heard someone enter the room and then felt sharp pain in my nipples as they were both pierced and as I later found out, rings inserted. They released me for dinner when I found out that the rings were to be used to drag my nipples down instead of the tied pieces of cotton. I now have gold chains attached to the rings holding my breasts down, my husband ordered Lissa to pull them so tight that my nipples are stretched a full 2" and touching the top of my corset, I thought that they would be removed after we returned from dinner, but my husband has ordered them not, my nipples are so sore, I am sure I will not be able to sleep. Lissa now stands waiting with the arm and leg binders and ominously the 3½" dilator. January 28th 1835 Last night Lissa bound my legs and arms and between they forced the 3½" dilator up my arse, I cried out and my husband rapidly gagged me with a ring gag. He then woke me several times and ordered me to pleasure him with my mouth. He did not help and each time I struggled to turn over using my just elbows and then moving, on my bound elbows and knees, position my self above his member and pleasure him whilst still wearing the ring gag. Every time I brushed my stretched nipples against his body I gasped with pain. He at last let me sleep, letting it be known that now I could not embarrass him again. I am full of remorse, maybe my Uncle is right and I am incorrigible. My husband has been so patient with me, but I have let him down at every turn. January 30th 1835 We have left Cape Town I have not seen it, my husband has said that he is not sure he can trust me in polite company until he has taken certain measures. February 15th 1835 I have fallen again, last night looking for some relief from tension, I used my bound elbows to drag my one of my titties up towards my mouth so that I could suck on my breast button, I leaned my head forward and started sucking, I was so entranced that I did not notice my husband wake and view my disgusting behaviour. Tonight Lissa stands ready with the arm and leg binders and one my old posture collars, which she has found in the crate. I notice with dread that it is the highest one which forces my head right back. February 18th 1835 I have been caught again, last night I began rubbing my nipples with my bound arms and my husband discovered me once more. He has got the ships carpenter to make a bar which holds two short leather cylinders, this afternoon it was fitted to me, the leather cylinders are tightly bound around the base of my breast, make them balloon up high on my chest and the bar extends over my bound arms stopping me from raising them to my breasts. After a while my breasts begin to throb painfully, but there was no relief. February 21st 1835 Three days ago, my husband says that he has completely lost faith in me and as such has reinstituted, my bound arm day dresses, that morning Lissa bound my arms back double as tight as she could lace them and my bound arms were forced into a my light blue day dress which had been altered to accept the bound arms in Cape Town, the false gloved arms were fitted and have spent the days in that fashion ever since. They have even hobbled my ankles so that I cannot raise my legs up during the day as I once did at night. I don't think anybody on board has really noticed as I was mostly helpless due the over large beret sleeves and at meals my husband has always fed me. I am now back in the state as under my Uncles vigilance, all due to my own lack of discipline. February 28th 1835 I have now been encumbered with the 4" dilator for 4 days, and it fills me horribly, I waddle about like a drunken seaman, each step causing me pain. I dearly hope my husband will be able to enter me soon. Today my husband ordered my corset fully closed from top to bottom, Lissa pulled and pulled until not a sight of gap remained. The pressure is insufferable, my ribs are crushed and my hips are squeezed and it has increased the pressure on my expanded arse, the only benefit is that the front busk is pushed towards my front pleasure hole and I can feel a little relief although bending forward to increase the pressure brings stars to my eyes, I know I needed to reduce my waist but why do I have to be so tightlaced above and below. Since the night they forced it into me I have worn a full tight laced face mask every night with just a mouth opening and the ring gag, I now have great difficulty founding my husbands member to service him without sight. February 28th 1835 We are preparing for the Indies and my husband is worried that I shall embarrass him in front of the managers of the East Indies Company. He has told me that his new wife will declared very fragile and I will be taken straight to his house and kept in restraint until he can trust me, I will be only allowed out under the severest conditions. March 3rd 1835 I am now wearing full masks with only opening for my nostrils all day long with my large wigs perched atop them. The ships officers have made no comment and carry on as if nothing had happened. I fear that my husband has told them something of my disobedience and they seem to accept the situation. March 5th 1835 Last night the 4" dilator was removed, and my husband entered my rear pleasure hole, I have been waiting for this moment for weeks, hoping for release from my built up tension that has hounded me and caused my husband so much dismay. And although he seemed satisfied and repeated three times it gave nought satisfaction to me. March 10th 1835 We are reaching the Indies and the heat is oppressive, I can manage no movement whilst I am masked as I need every breath of air just to survive, I lay on my bed fully dressed, with my corset now fully closed, and my collar tight and even though I wear the corset closed at all times, my husband still insists on the Austrian belt. He says that my narrow waist is one of the few things he can still admire about me, and always turns the screws a little tighter. I must suffer these predicaments, it is my own fault I have failed him in so many ways. March 12th 1835 We have docked in Batavia and if I was hoping for some release, it was not forthcoming, my husband has declared me in feeble health and as such I would be carried from the ship. This morning I was left in my leg binders and dressed in my best day dress. My mask was removed and my mouth filled with a large kerchief and then a blind mask was fitted and then hidden behind a veiled sun bonnet and I was carried from the Maartel by two natives and driven in a carriage to my husbands house. March 16th 1835 I have not as yet seen anything of my husband's house except the bedroom as I have been bound ever since. In the morning I am dressed still in my leg binders, my mouth gagged, my ears plugged and my blind mask fitted and carried down to the drawing room, there I am placed on the sofa and left all day in this position, the only relief has been when Lissa removes my mask to feed me and sometimes when my husband returns during the day to service me. He just upends me, tosses all my petticoats over my head spreads my bound legs and takes his pleasure. The only good thing is that he has now using my front pleasure hole and now I get some release. I am left upended until Lissa comes to right me. In the evening I am taken up early and I am allowed an hour of freedom from the binders and mask to perform my ablutions and keep this diary which my husband has insisted I keep. I am then fitted with the bedroom boots, arms and legs tightly bound, the high posture collar and the breast bar and propped up on cushion so that my arse is at the right height for my husband if has the fancy to service me without bending down. I have not seen my husbands face, heard his voice or been able to speak to him for three days now, but I hope when he allows me to see and speak to him I will be able to convince of my deepest repentance and that he will one day release me this strict bondage. March 18th 1835 Today some change, my mask let me see through two small pinholes, my ears were unplugged, but my mouth was still fully gagged , my nipple chain were released slightly and Lissa fitted a wide leather strap underneath my bosom and then over my shoulders and pulled it tight, so that my bosom was lifted high, but still keeping my nipples down. I was then dressed in my most ornate evening dress, I had not worn it on the ship because of it's immense size. It took sixteen newly laundered and fully starched petticoats to fill the skirt, so that it was fully 8ft across and its beret sleeves were at least 3ft wide and the same from front to back, the collar has an enormous frill which extends a foot either side. I was carried down to the living room and placed on the sofa, I could not see much, but my husband then upended me and took me roughly from back and front, I then felt the four inch dilator forced into my arse and then another dilator was pushed in my front pleasure hole, it felt so big, I thought I would burst. My husband then explained to me that the Island community wanted to see his new wife and as such I would be on display today. He had put it about that I could not speak and my face was covered due to being sunburnt on the voyage. With that the servants entered and they lifted me onto a heavy stand which was waiting in the centre of the room. The stand had two cups into which my bound knees were inserted and strapped down tight, Lissa came and fitted a pot face over my mask and then a colossal, beringletted, bright red wig was fitted to my head. A most enormous heavy hat festooned with ribbons was fitted atop the wig and fastened underneath my chin. Lissa placed a mirror in front me and angled side to side so that I could see my reflection. I looked like a doll, my waist was minute, seemingly visibly even smaller than it's 3" width by the panelled vertical stripes of the bodice, it was dwarfed into nothing in contrast to the massive skirts below and the distended beret sleeves either side. My bosom was a mountainous mass of white flesh rising heavily and falling with each breath, straining at the edge of my décolleté, each pant pulled hard at my nipple chains and stretched my nipples unmercilessly. My pot face was a perfect picture of mine own; I don't know when it was made. While I was waiting my husband returned with the Austrian belt and screwed it harshly into my waist, so that I nearly fainted, saying that I must look my best for today. At least forty visitors came, mostly males, but some husbands and wives, all spoke and commiserated at my illness and all I could do was occasionally shake my bound arms, which moved my artificial arms slightly in reply. I was complimented on my outfit and I heard several of the males insisting that their wives order something similar, and one even clasped my waist and encouraged his wife to attain similar proportions. She looked dismayed as she was a portly woman and it was obvious by the heaving of her bosom, that she was already laced to the utmost, but still had a waist of over 20". Her husband was adamant and I heard them say that she would be laced to the point of fainting when they returned home. When the last visitors had left, I was taken down and carried to the carriage, and we toured the area letting everybody see me in my finery. I sit here now perched on a stool, I have been released from the armbinders to write this piece, but the pot mask, hideous wig, enormous hat, leg binders and the two enormous intrusive dilators remain in place. Excert 1 It is a late Sunday afternoon in September and still very warm for the time of year. The countryside is awash with colour. Russets, reds, browns, oranges, yellows, and all other shades of autumn are visible. The scent of recently cut grass hangs in the air. Chirping birds complement the sound of the church bells ringing in the distance. Little Wiggington is the sort of place where litter, sleaze, and crime simply don't fit. This is an extremely pleasant and quite area. After pottering around in the garden and hanging out the washing, Jenny went back inside the house. She and Roger were just beginning to enjoy a few free weekends together. Roger looked up at her from the breakfast table as she entered the kitchen. He noticed a wicked glint in her eye. It was obvious to him that she was thinking about doing something extremely naughty! Jenny had only just begun to reveal her devilish side, a side that Roger hadn't known existed before. She seemed to enjoy teasing and shocking him on an increasing scale lately. Jenny suggested that they go for a walk around the golf course, and then disappeared up the stairs. When she re-appeared a few minutes later, she was wearing a cropped top, micro-mini skirt, ankle boots, and patterned stockings. The skirt was so short that the elastic tops of her stockings were partially visible. Roger became aroused the moment he set eyes on her. He wanted to stay in, but Jenny was adamant that she wanted to go out for a walk. "You can't walk around like that!" he protested. "Not here anyway. It's not fitting." "Who can't? Watch me!" Jenny replied testily. "You precocious little minx," he said, a grin appearing on his face. No matter how much she infuriated him, he couldn't stay mad at her for long. Eventually, after batting her eyelids and pursing her lips a few times, Jenny got her way. A few moments later, they walked out through the garden gate together and set off along the road. It soon became apparent to Roger that all passing men were scrutinising his wife's body very carefully. To his alarm, he realised that this excited him, and his arousal was starting to become somewhat apparent! He started to blush slightly, dropped his head a little, and moved on with a bit more urgency. They made their way towards the golf course. As they headed towards the nearest entrance, the two of them became aware of two men standing near the path that they intended to use. Both men looked quite unsavoury and out of place in this particular area, but they appeared to be doing nothing more than loitering. Jenny was feeling supremely confident though, just as she always did in Roger's company. Speaking aloud Jenny took real pleasure in informing Roger that she had no panties on! This remark was timed perfectly to coincide with the passing of the two sleazy looking characters. Roger gave her a jolt, but noticed that her eyes were fixed firmly on the bulges now forming unnaturally quickly in both men's trousers. He quickly dragged Jenny off into the golf course, as he didn't share her confidence at this precise moment in time. The two men appeared to be a rough looking pair of specimens and were of completely unknown origin to Roger. The golf course was an extremely popular spot for young couples, mainly due to the woodland that surrounded it. In certain areas the woodland provided small, well-hidden clearings. The clearings were obscured from general view by the surrounding trees, as the leaves hadn't begun to fall properly yet. Some of the clearings near the edge of the golf course were covered in grass and surrounded by shrubs. It wasn't long before the two of them found somewhere that appeared fairly secluded and out of the way. The small clearing was approximately three metres into the woods at the edge of the course. The area itself was just about large enough for what the two of them had in mind. It also included the cover of some shrubbery. Roger was literally throbbing by now. He grabbed Jenny and kissed her hard, her response being impulsive and immediate. Instinct took over and Roger pulled Jenny down onto the ground. The combination of her appearance, her smell, and their situation was stimulating Roger's senses to the extreme. Jenny was feeling quite sordid and sleazy, but very much alive. It was a delicious feeling that she hadn't experienced before. Both of them were too excited and aroused to bother with any kind of foreplay. Their lips remained locked hard as they rolled around in a frenzy of passion, grasping desperately at each other's bodies. Before long, they were both fumbling frantically with Roger's belt and zip. It was as if their minds were working in perfect harmony, the two of them having one instinctive aim---the release of Roger's erect and aching manhood in the shortest time possible. They were both equally desperate for penetration. Jenny stretched out on her back underneath Roger and spread her legs in anticipation. After freeing himself from his trousers, Roger forced his way inside her eager, sodden cavity. Almost immediately, they began to pummel away at each other's naked groins with such ferocity that a loud slapping sound started to become extremely audible. The two of them put everything into satisfying both their own and each other's immediate needs. Jenny managed to climax twice before Roger finally exploded inside her. Covered in perspiration the two of them collapsed into a heap, the initial furore over. A few minutes passed by, but the intensity of their combined arousal didn't seem to dissipate; soon, they found themselves at it again! However, within a short space of time, Roger started to experience a slight feeling of unease. He remembered the two men that they'd spotted near the entrance and how uncomfortable he'd felt in their presence. His level of concentration began to suffer as a consequence. Roger listened intently for the sound of any movement in the immediate vicinity. Eventually the feeling started to subside, and he began to relax a little. Before long, he was hammering against Jenny's luscious, bulbous, mound again, and into her sopping wet lovehole for all he was worth. She reciprocated, while remaining completely oblivious to Roger's anxiety. The two of them became completely enveloped in an act of wild and ferocious outdoor sex. Their frantic mating was creating a slurping sound, while accompanied by the sound of their lower abdomens coming together. Even though they weren't in general view, they could be heard quite clearly from a few metres away, especially during the moments when Jenny was experiencing her orgasms. It would have been blindingly obvious to anyone that came within earshot what was going on. Within ten minutes, Roger was exploding inside Jenny for the second time. She froze solid and hung onto him for dear life. Her legs were wrapped tightly around the back of his, her ankles against the inside of his legs, while her feet pointed outwards, being tucked tightly under his shins. She positioned herself in this way to create leverage while she savoured the exquisite, tingling moment. Eventually they separated, relaxed, and lay back on the grass. Roger lit a postnuptial cigarette. He inhaled deeply, held his breath for a second, and then exhaled loudly. His actions were complicit with those of a man experiencing complete satisfaction. The pleasure he was feeling as he indulged his senses was blatantly obvious. However, due to the underlying, unexplainable feeling of unease that kept returning to him, Roger continued to remain alert to his immediate surroundings. Ultimately, it dawned on him that this feeling was hindering a fantastic experience, so he decided to ignore it completely and enjoy the moment. Jenny's head was still spinning as she stood up, straightened her skirt, and then gave herself a quick brush down. Roger remained where he was, while observing the trim, firm, young body of his wife, realising how lucky he was. 'I need to relax more and please her properly,' he thought, noticing that Jenny was now standing with her hand held out towards him. He took hold of it and pulled himself up onto his knees, but no further. Letting go of her hand, he slid both his hands up the outside of her thighs and beneath her skirt. "Roger! We've only just finished!" she exclaimed. Ignoring her, Roger hitched up the front of her skirt and gently pulled her vaginal lips apart with his thumbs. Jenny found herself automatically parting her legs slightly, her head still away with the fairies. It was as if her body had subconsciously taken over in response to the inner warmth that she was feeling, and the tingle between her legs. Roger leaned forward with his tongue outstretched and attempted to locate her clitoris with its tip. The eventual writhing and jerking of her hips, as her hands clamped his head firmly into place, told him that he'd succeeded. "I didn't think you'd have the energy for another round," she giggled, as she finally seemed to become aware of her surroundings. "I'm sure someone is watching us!" "Funny, I have the same feeling," said Roger, feeling slightly uneasy. "Does it bother you?" "Not if it's purely sexual, that would just make me hornier," he commented, without realising the implication of what he'd said. "Why, is there something else on your mind?" she asked in a concerned voice. "There was something odd about those two men standing by the entrance," he admitted, "but that's probably just me overreacting." "Of course it is. If anything it adds to the excitement," she replied, having cottoned on to Roger's previous comment. His remark caused her to share some of his anxiety though. "You're right, let's just enjoy the experience," he agreed. "Someone could be standing behind a bush masturbating, while observing your inner lips being thoroughly stimulated." Roger paused to look up at her for a second and gauge her reaction. "Oh, what a huge turn on!" gasped Jenny, as Roger's tongue resumed its game with her clitoris. It wasn't long before her body was stiffening again, causing her to clamp onto his head even tighter. "Ok, if someone is watching, how do you fancy giving them a show to surpass anything they've ever witnessed before?" he suggested, after she'd finally released his head, and allowed him to look up at her again. "Oh yes please!" she begged, drooling. Roger stood up, stripped from the waist down, and then lay down on his back. Jenny understood immediately and took off her skirt. She squatted over Roger's body with her hands resting on her knees, while gazing down into his eyes. Her legs were as wide apart as was physically possible. The only point of contact between them was the tip of his erection nuzzling against the entrance to her vagina. The neatly trimmed and exquisite little mound that she'd paid so much attention to was now on full display. Jenny seemed to understand the effect that visual stimulation had on a man perfectly, and her present position of control made her tingle immensely. She slowly eased herself onto his purple head, and then started to work herself up and down the tip of his shaft. A minute or two later, they both heard a noise that appeared to come from the shrubbery surrounding them. The two of them froze and stared at each other in silence. A second or two later, another sound came from the same place. Jenny squinted and focused her eyes onto the area where the noise had come from. Gradually the faint broken outline of a man started to become visible. She could feel herself beginning to shake. As her eyes grew even more accustomed to the area of light that she was staring into though, she began to relax. The image of masculine right hand started to become apparent. It was vigorously masturbating a generous shaft adorned with a bulbous purple head, and not too far in front of her! Roger remained frozen and silent the whole time, watching Jenny's face for a reaction. Eventually he saw her lick her lips. "It's ok, somebody's watching and wanking," she whispered to him, whilst not being able to contain the excitement that this was causing her. She was an object of desire and could feel herself beginning to quiver from head to toe. Jenny slid her hips all the way down onto Roger's full length. At the same time, she began to manipulate her clitoris with the tips of her fingers. Before long, the sound of somebody grunting his way through an explosive orgasm became extremely audible. Jenny had been watching the area very closely and spotted the generous spurts of creamy fluid travelling in her general direction. Through the shadows, she managed to observe them being ejected from the tip of the handsomely proportioned shaft with impressive force and pace. The hand that had been stimulating the shaft was now being pulled back as hard as was physically possible, generously enlarging the appearance of the guilty member. Some of the fluid was landing in close proximity to her and Roger. Jenny immediately thrust herself down harder onto Roger's erection, before stiffening and letting out a small squeal in the process. The sound of someone else grunting became apparent, and it seemed to come from somewhere behind her. Due to the sudden realisation that she was capable of satisfying a multitude of men at once, Jenny began to experience a sensation that she hadn't known was possible before. It was absolutely luscious. Everything was happening at once, as Roger also began to groan loudly. He started to hammer back up against Jenny's groin with every ounce of energy he possessed. Within seconds, he could feel his own warm sperm pulsating along his manhood before spurting out into her body. The two of them gazed intently into each other's eyes. After a moment or two, the look changed from that of a loving gaze, to one of a knowing look. They grinned at each other, collapsed into a warm embrace, and then lay motionless for a while. Roger felt much more relaxed now. 'So it was just a sexual thing,' he thought gladly. Finally, they got up and dressed. Jenny didn't seem to be particularly bothered that someone might see her. In fact, the thought made her tingle even more! Roger was surprised by how much Jenny's nonchalance turned him on. Once they were completely dressed, Jenny embraced him. They kissed each other gently, allowing their lips to linger a while. After a while they set off towards home hand in hand. Jenny felt slightly sore and Roger was aching, but the two also shared a feeling of extreme satisfaction.