Rose's Story

I was only a titter, not as old as Ethel here, when I fell madly in love with my husband. George was a handsome, rake-hellish devil whose reputation was common property. I knew very well he was a confirmed cunt-hunter, but like many another girl I was completely bowled over by his fascinations, and I would listen to no remonstrances or warnings.

In vain they told me I was too young to think of marrying. I was no innocent, despite my tender age, and I was persuaded I could hold my own in amorous conflict with a man. Still, I had some sense left in my noddle, for I wouldn't let my lover fuck me till he had married me. It was hard work to prevent him though, for his unguarded and lubricious caresses awoke a little demon in my quim to which, until then, I had been a stranger.

He used to squeeze my bubbies and bottom in the openest way, and rub his prick against my thighs and hands, so that I could not help feeling it-and, Lord! what a size it seemed, exaggerated by the folds of his clothes. More than once I left him so excited that I woke up in the middle of a wet dream, spending profusely. I fancied he was in my arms, ramming fast and furiously, and when I came to my senses I was bucking eagerly, and my quim drenched. His contact, even his presence, moved me so much that I was ready to spend if he touched me, and one day I did. He was mugging me in his usual fucksome style, and his hand touched my motte. Instantly, and without my having the slightest power to prevent it, the hidden springs burst, and a torrent flowed from my excited cranny. For the life of me I could not but give way to my feelings, and found myself openly and without the least attempt at concealment thrusting my belly backwards and forwards against him, just as many a time since I have responded to the throes of a lover's prick. He saw the effect, the brute, and took advantage of my helplessness to put his hand up my clothes.

'Good God, Rose,' he cried, 'why, you shoot it out like a man! Your drawers are dripping, and it's running down into your stockings.



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