Sins of the Cities of the Plain (10 page)

     My partner was equally active. His prick swelled and throbbed in my bottom as I gently rose and fell upon it, whilst the hand that was frigging me kept well to its duty.

     “You darling! You love! Oh Eveline, I’m coming! Ah—ah—there it is, my love. Can you feel it shoot into you?” he exclaimed.

     My own emission came at the same moment, and thoroughly lubricated his active hand as he afforded me the most intense pleasure in both parts at once; and to add to my emotion my other partner shot what I believe to have been his very first spendings into my mouth. My lips closed convulsively on the head of his pego, and with a long-drawn, continued suck, drained and swallowed every drop of his virility as it gushed into my longing mouth.

     When I think of that conjunction even now my prick sticks up in a moment. Never before or since has my fancy been so excited or have I so enjoyed the very acme of bliss.

     The others also enjoyed themselves immensely, and the Earl had Laura on his lap as he sat on the music-stool before the piano.

     Selina now took Laura’s place to play to us, and all being stripped quite naked, we made five very pretty couples. The Earl had Mr. Wirein; I secured Leon, the handsome French page; Laura indulged my former partner, and so forth. Again we commenced a most lascivious series of evolutions, forming our hands into arches in turns, under which the others would waltz, the leading couple forming the next arch, an so on and on ‘round the apartment, pulling, squeezing, or slapping pricks all ‘round, so as to keep them well alive and stiff.

     When tired of this we retired with our partners to the sofas, and after refreshing ourselves with wines, jellies, and biscuits, proceeded to have each other in the most fanciful ways we could imagine.

     Indeed, while the others rose to set about taking up their sucking and their fucking, I happened to allow my gaze to fall upon Menotti, the Italian member of our young-boy trio of guests as he continued to replenish his strengths at the cookie platter, unmolested for the first time that evening. I watched him feeding there, like a brawny, half-starved beast, and in my dizzy, half-drunken state I found that he was arousing a different kind of appetite within myself.

     In those moments I mused about what it truly might feel like to be the type of lady so taken with this sort of man, who indulged in his ill-mannered lusts so freely and with such vigor. I watched the crumbs fall from his juicy and sensuous lips as he chewed, and then as he swallowed great gulps of wine. And though I knew he was not my usual style, I felt I had to have him all the same.

     “Here, my dear,” said I as I moved to sit upon the cushion next to him. “Allow me to feed you this next biscuit, so that you might recline and feel more comfortable as you eat your fill.”

     He grinned, and without a word did so, exposing his expanse of shirtless chest and torso as he leaned back, allowing me to fill his mouth with a crumpet while thrilling to the sight of his thick and beefy body.

     “I have not had the pleasure of hearing your first name, my love,” said I, even as I pushed another cracker into his mouth, and fluttered to the feel of his lips as they wetly caressed my fingertips.

     “Antony,” said he, his mouth once again filled with crumbs. “I know your name; it is Eveline, is it not?”

     “It is indeed,” I smiled, even as I began toying with the ample flesh about his navel. “But I must stop feeding you these biscuits, lest you become fat and fall out of fashion with the boys at the square.”

     “I could care less about those boys, dear Eveline,” said Antony, even as his piercing black eyes seemed to bore into my tipsy soul. “I am a good Italian boy of the country, and I would sooner choose a pretty girl like you, who knows the way into a man’s trousers is often through his belly.”

     With those words, he brought me to his face and kissed me long and hard with his lips and his tongue, as I slipped my arms ‘round his waist and all but leapt upon him.

     Before long I was riding his great, teenaged Italian sausage, my legs splayed to either side of his muscular hips and my hungry arsehole shimmying up and down his leaning tower. All the while I stuffed him with the last of the cookies, crackers and crumpets, forcing still more wine down his throat. Before too long I brought him to a glorious spend, and he gasped and moaned rudely, though his mouth was quite full. By the time I was through with him, I mused, it would be a wonder that he could squeeze back into the snug breeches in which he was first presented to us!

     Last I fed him my own fat prick, and in my dreamy haze I imagined my cock a long and tasty pastry as it was devoured by this heated and beastly Italian boy. Soon enough, my thick spend would squirt forth, custard-like into his insatiable mouth as his own spendings flowed back down the hole of my arse under the continuing force of his renewed thrusts.

     I then, with what seemed my last ounces of strength that night, made Leon lay over me the reverse way, so that I could take his fine pego in my mouth and postillion him with my fingers; all of which he was nothing loathe to return with the greatest of ardour, ‘till we both came in the other’s mouth and racked off each other’s spunk to the last drop. Then I made him turn ‘round facing me as I still lay on my back, and so gradually bring his bottom down on my prick ‘till I got it all in, and had him ride me a delicious St. George. We kissed and tipped each other the velvet with our tongues, ‘till we both spent again—I in his arse and he on my belly, his seed shooting along all over my breast.

     This rather exhausted us for a time, but we lay in each other’s arms, my prick still soaking and throbbing within the tight folds of his anus, and quite oblivious to all that was passing around us, when suddenly—Whish! Whish! Whack! Whack! came a birch on poor Leon’s bum, and he would have fairly unshipped my affair from its delicious berth, had I not held him like a vice in my arms.

     It was his lordship the Earl, birch in hand, whilst the Hon. Mr. Come-again was shoving into his bottom and frigging his prick for him.

     He was called Mr. Come-again (I afterwards . found out) by his friends, as no amount of fucking ever seemed to take down the pride of his constantly standing member.

     Another couple in similar conjunction were attacking with the birch the bottom of his lordship’s lover, with others behind who passed their birching compliments from group to group, ‘till young Leon’s bum evidently received the quintessence of birch discipline. Heavens! how it made him move and dance on my delighted cock, whilst his affair, quite eight inches long, swelled and rubbed furiously on my belly as I lay under him.

     This lasted a long time. The twigs fairly drew blood again and again, but added immensely to our enjoyment. The Earl seemed to take the greatest possible delight in letting many of his strokes sting the tenderest parts of my inner thighs, and even my prick itself, if it happened to be exposed so that his rod could touch it up.

     We screamed, laughed, and actually shed tears now and then, ‘till at last it ended in the usual voluptuous emissions, which drove us almost beyond our reason from the excessive pleasure of the supreme moment.

     This is only a trifle of what we went through before daylight put a stop to the further development of carnal ideas for that time at least. All I know is that it took a good week’s rest to make me feel fit to pay my next visit to Inslip’s Club.

CHAPTER XI. Young Winston and George Brown’s Recollections

     Only lately I have been introduced to two curious members of the Mary-Ann profession. The first is known as Young Winston, who is a very handsome youth of seventeen or thereabouts. He is about five feet two or three inches; very fair and pretty; with chestnut hair, dark blue eyes, and a set of pearly teeth which, combined with the rosy colour of his cheeks, makes him an almost irresistible bait to old gentlemen—or for that to young ones too—who are addicted to the pederastic vice.

     We are very much in each other’s confidence, so he let me into the secrets of his way of doing business.

     One afternoon, as we were smoking and drinking champagne together, he suddenly commenced:

     “Do you think, Jack, I ever let those old fellows have me? No fear, I know a game worth two of that. You see, I never bring them home with me, and in fact always affect an innocent air: don’t know where to go to; am living with my father and mother at Greenwich or some out-of-the-way part of London, and only came to the West-End to look about and see the shops and swells, and the like. If a gentleman is very pressing I never consent to anything unless he asks me to accompany him to his house or chambers. Once I get home with him, I say, ‘Now, sir, what present are you going to make me?’

     “’Stop a bit, my boy, ‘til we see how you please me,’ or something very like that is the answer I generally get.

     “’No; I’ll have it now, or I’ll raise the house, you old sod. Do you think I’m a greenhorn? I want a fiver. Don’t I know too well that little boys only get five or ten shillings after it’s all over? but that won’t do for me, so shell out at once, or I’ll raise the house, and a pretty scandal it will be!’

     “That frightens them at once, so I almost always get at least five pounds, and sometimes more, as I take care to write and borrow as much as I can afterwards. There’s nothing like bleeding one of these old fellows; and young ones are better still—they are so easily frightened.”

     He told me lots of tales of different people he had victimized in that way.

     My other acquaintance, George Brown, comes on a different line of business. His plan is to pick up a swell, and ride about with him in a cab.

     Many gentlemen are too nervous to take a boy home with them, or, in fact, to go to any house; but they like to get a young fellow in a cab, and either frig him or get him to do it to themselves.

     G.B. would do all this, and wait ‘till his prize was quite or nearly drunk; then rob him of his pocketbook, purse, or watch, as the case might be, very frequently even taking the rings off his fingers if he had any.

     “Jack,” he said to me the other day, “what a fool you are not to go in for the same lay as I do. You would get hundreds where you now only get tens.

     “I had a rare lark with a Jewish man the other day. I knew he belonged to some city financial firm. He was too smart to get drunk; but took me down to the Star and Garter at Richmond on a Saturday afternoon (no doubt he had been to his synagogue in the morning). Well, we had a first-rate dinner, and by way of dessert I handled and sucked his rather worn-out prick ‘till he spent, and he did the same to me; but I don’t like Jews or any dark complexioned types, I so prefer the fair-haired sort, so I made up my mind to make him pay well for it.

     “At length when he ordered a last bottle of fizz, and took out his purse to pay the bill, I could see he had very little more than a tenner left, which no doubt was intended for me; and so it was. Directly the waiter was gone out of the room, he tossed it across the table to me, saying; There’s a little bit of paper for you, George. It’s good pay for an hour or two, my boy. I wish I would make money as easily!’

     “Of course I pocketed the flimsy; but never made any remark, except: Is that all for what I have let you do?’

     “Why, you don’t even thank me for being liberal!’ he remarked rather angrily.

     “’Nothing to thank you for; I could wipe my arse on that! I mean to have a cool hundred; as I know it’s nothing to you, who can swindle more than that any day in the city. Shall I call at your Cornhill office for it on Monday, or will you give me an I.O.U.?’

     “’You bugger! You shan’t have a damn’d penny more?’ he growled out, putting on his hat. Tm going!’

     “’
Not
‘till you square me, Mr. Simeon Moses!’ I said, speaking as loudly as possible. ‘You know you have been acting indecently towards me, and showing me a volume of the “Romance of Lust!” Would you like a bobby to find that book on you?”

     “You should have seen him start as I mentioned his real name.

     “’Hush! Hush! for God’s sake speak a little lower! What do you want? I’ll sent you the money.’

     “’No you won’t! I’ll call for it anywhere you like to leave a hundred quid for me; but you must give me the rings off your fingers as security, to be returned when I get the money, on my word of honour.’

     “He was too frightened not to comply at once, and told me to take them to a certain house in a little street out of Harley Street, any time after ten o’clock the next Sunday evening.

     “I knew the house very well. It was kept by a great big bully, who had been a soldier, so, thinking perhaps there would be a little trouble in making him hand over the tin, I borrowed a small life-preserver from a friend by way of precaution, then went for a settlement.

     The bully opened the door himself.

     “’Has Mr. Simeon Moses left a hundred pounds for me?’ I asked.

     “’Your name’s George Brown, I think. Step into the parlour, and I’ll see you presently,’ he growled.

     “Half-an-hour passed, and he still kept me waiting, so I gave a furious ring at the bell, which brought him in swearing at me for my damn’d impudence.

     “’Now, Bill Johnson—you see, I know your name, and what’s more, I know the games you carry on here—no humbug!’ (bringing out the life-preserver and striking the table so as to make a regular mark in the mahogany). ‘Have you got the money or not? I shan’t stop, and Mr. Moses may whistle for his rings if I don’t get it now!’ I said, speaking loudly.

     “’Damn it! Yes. Only don’t make a row. But he told me only to give you ten pounds and keep the rest!’

     “’Give me ninety and keep the ten. I don’t mind a fair commission.’ I replied, and so we settled it at once, and had a good laugh over the sodding fools, as I stood a bottle of fizz.”

     After telling me the foregoing tale, he went on:

     “Did you ever hear that I was four years in the Reformatory at Red Hill? That was where I first had a prick up my arse.”