How strangely silent were we that first time, save for our gentle, hungry moans, and how my toes curled as he came!

'Go from me, Richard, go', I breathed. I wanted to run into that small room that bears the name Remorse, and yet I knew it would not welcome me, for it had never done before. Upon my second threading in the summer-house when I was seventeen, my aunt held me, rained kisses on my lips while the big penis worked its will and flooded me with warm, thick, gruelly sperm.

'You raised your legs up at the last and curled your toes when he was coming in your quim', she smiled. He rose, I saw that long, thick penis drooling, soapy at the head.

'Now kiss me once again. I'll make you come anew', she said. She smacked my thighs to keep them open while he looked, but then he went lest Mama came. There is no sin of it, my pet, provided that you like it', so she said.

I wonder now, but cannot help myself no more than I could then.

You are much loved', she said. 'Now you have taken his big cock a second time, you will again'.

I spoke of it with Adelaide. We rubbed our nipples as we spoke. How sweet the boldness that was on us then! Should I return to it? Last night with Richard on the couch, I heard my aunt's words once again that she had uttered in the hayloft the first time, when I had needed to be held.

'Please, don't! You can't! It's naughty-oh!', I squealed while the swollen crest sheathed itself into my squeezing slit. I kicked. My legs were raised, beat ever feebly on his back. Remorselessly the pulsing peg sank in until his balls hung down beneath my orb. 'I'll tell Mama!', I moaned, though it was to be my last cry of any comprehensibility. Thereafter for a moment I was dulled, was slowly lulled though by the motions of his prick, and finally grew passionate for more.