Sins of the Cities of the Plain (2 page)

     I now gave myself more and more to his gamahuching, now and then seizing his head with both hands, and raising his face to mine, we indulged in luscious love kisses, which prolonged my pleasure almost indefinitely. At last I allowed him to bring me to a crisis, and he swallowed every drop of my spendings with evident relish.

     After resting awhile, and taking a little more stimulant, I asked him how he had come to acquire such a decided taste for gamahuching, to do it so deliriously as he did.

     “That would be too long a tale to go into now,” he replied. “Some other day, if you would like to make it worth my while, I will give you the whole history.”

     “Could you write it out, or give me an outline so that I might put it into the shape of a tale?”

     “Certainly; but it would take me so much time that you would have to make me a present of at least twenty pounds. It would take during three or four weeks several hours a day.”

     “I don’t mind a fiver a week if you give me a fair lot, say thirty or forty pages of note-paper a week, tolerably well written,” I replied.

     And the arrangement was made for him to compile me “The Recollections of a Mary-Ann,” which I suggested ought to be the title, although he seemed not at all to like the name as applied to himself. He said that “Mary-Ann” was what the low girls of his neighbourhood called him if they wished to insult him, however, he said at last, “the four fivers will make up for that.”

     “Now,” he added, “I suppose you would like me to put it up for you, or rather into myself. But can you lend me such a thing as a birch? You are not so young as I am, and want something to stimulate you; besides, I want you to do it well, as I fancy that moderate sized cock of yours immensely. You must know that I am sure I should like as nice man as yourself to fuck me as much in this moment as ever?”

     The birch was produced, and he insisted upon tying me down over the easy chair, so that I could not flinch or get away from the application of the rod.

     He began very steadily, and with light stinging cuts which soon made me aware that I had a rather accomplished young schoolmaster to deal with my posteriors, which began to tingle most pleasantly after a few strokes. The sting of each cut was sharp, but the warm, burning rush of blood to the parts had such an exciting effect that, although I fairly writhed and wriggled under each stroke, I was rapidly getting into a most delicious state of excitement.

     The light tips of the birch seemed to search out each tender spot, twining ‘round my buttocks and thighs, touching up both shaft and balls, as well as wealing my ham, ‘till I was most rampantly erect, and cried out for him to let me have him at once.

     “Not yet; not yet, you bugger. You want to get into my arse, do you? I’ll teach you to fuck arse-holes, my boy!” he exclaimed, chuckling over my mingled pain and excitement.

     “How do you like that—and that—and that—and that?” The last stroke was so painful that it almost took my breath away, and I knew he had fairly drawn blood.

     I was furious, my prick felt red-hot, almost ready to burst, when he unloosed my hands and ankles.

     I seized him in a perfect fury of lust. His prick was also standing like a bar of iron; he had got so excited by my flagellation. He was turned ‘round, and made to kneel upon the chair at once, presenting his bottom to my attack. No one to look at it would have thought the pink and wrinkled little hole had ever been much used, except for the necessary offices of nature. The sight was perfectly maddening; it looked so delicious.

     As I stopped for a moment to lubricate the head of my prick with saliva, he put his finger in his mouth, and then wetted the little hole himself, to make it as easy as possible for me.

     Coming to the charge, I found him delightfully tight. I got in slowly as he helped me as much as possible by directing the head of my cock with his hand, whilst I had him ‘round the waist and handled that beautiful tool of his. The ever thickening girth of his cock added immensely to my pleasure. At last I felt fairly in, but did not want to spend too soon, so only moved very slowly, enjoying the sense of possession and the delicious pressures which he evidently so well knew how to apply.

     My frigging soon brought him to a spend, and catching it all in my hands, I rubbed the creamy essence of life up and down his prick and over his balls, and even on my own cock as it drew in and out of his bottom.

     My delight was perfectly indescribable. I drew it out so long, always stopping for a little when the spending crisis seemed imminent, but at last his writhings and pressures had such an irresistible effect that I could no longer restrain the flood of sperm I had tried so long to keep back, and feeling it shoot from me in a red-hot stream, the agonizing delight made both of us give vent to perfect howls of ecstasy.

     We both nearly fainted, but my instrument was so hard and inflamed in the well-lubricated hole, he would have fairly worked me up to the very crisis again! But I was afraid of exhausting myself too much at one time, so gradually allowed Mr. Pego to assume his normal size, and slip out of that delicious orifice which had give me such pleasure.

     A week after this first introduction Jack came again, and brought the first installment of his rough notes, from which this manuscript is compiled. Though I had been so looking forward to feasting my eyes upon the bizarre and thrilling doings of this charming lad, even more so had I anticipated feasting upon the man himself! At our second meeting, I had vowed, I would not be so unprepared as our first, and duly I was rewarded:

     I had placed a request of my housemaid to prepare a sumptuous meal of many courses, including a roast which was to be prepared in such a way as the meat would be still red and quite moist. I dismissed her as soon as this main course could be smelt across my flat, and I laid a table romantic for perhaps the first time since I was but a teenager myself. These included fine silverware and china, as well as a pair of thick and heavy candles, as they were to burn far further into that eve than any supper could have taken us. By the time I heard his light steps upon the flight outside my chambers, I was nearly giddy with excitement, and my cock had climbed half-mast within the folds of my loose trousers.

     That mischievous grin of his fairly sparkled in the dim light as I opened the apartment door, and my eyes took a fair accounting of him as he entered, for fear I had dreamed the look of him the week before. No, my dear young Jack was just as structured and fine as my memory served, and it pleased me to throw the lock on my door for the rest of the evening.

     By the candlelight I could see how delicate and high the bones of his cheeks adorned his face. He wore his auburn hair back, as had been the fashion in many parts of town, where the youth of his type gathered to discuss the trends and to inspect the bloom and vigor in one another. How I yearned to be that young once again!

     We ate for long moments in silence, and when he picked at his food, I encouraged him to eat hardy, for he would need his strength tonight. And besides, it would be nice if he would indulge himself and plump out a bit as it will some time soon be my inclination to have a go at a bum which was somewhat chubbier than his own was just now.

     He giggled sweetly at my editorial, and ate up just as well; how accommodating this Jack was. By the time he laid into the pudding and pie dessert, I was fairly throbbing behind my empty plate. Though my hunger for things natural had been sated, my lust for this young Adonis had continued to grow and swell until, by my oath, I could no longer contain myself.

     Abuzz with dinner wine, flush with desire, I rose from the setting, skirted the table, and came upon him as a spider would a fly. In moments, I had plucked him from his seat, spun him ‘round and thrust him, like a Christmas goose, onto the table itself. There I set about stripping him, even as knives and forks and fine china clattered about him and fell to the floor. He grinned at me drunkenly, as I got to my work, frigging that huge cock of his, and spreading apart his smooth and firm thighs.

     “It would seem this smiling, drunken goose needs to be taught a lesson,” I said sternly, overcome by a sudden, sadistic desire to wipe that grin of his from his beautiful face.

     Glancing about for a proper instrument of punishment, I seized one of the great candles still burning at the far end of the table, and its molten wax spilt o’er him as I brought it to my lips that I might extinguish it before setting it to its sinister work. How he shrieked as the droplets of steaming wax struck his bare flesh; the scream had a chilling yet appealing effect on me, and, holding my breath, I reached the still-lit beacon o’er his seething torso once more and tilted it yet again. Another shout, louder still, punctuated the evening stillness, and though it thrilled me ever more, I had to stop, lest my neighbours call forth the entire local constabulary.

     Blowing out the candle, I then brought it low, turning it ‘round so that it’s heavy end could be pressed against the rosy bud of my trembling houseguest’s arsehole. The heat of that gorgeous anal sphincter would be adequate to soften the hard edges of this thick and weighty tool, but it would prove to be no barrier to my onslaught, and I soon managed to plunge this unusual device deeply into that orifice.

     “Oh, my stuffed young Christmas goose,” I whispered beneath his moans, “my handsome butterchurn. I have you now, don’t I. Shall I abandon this poor substitute and plug your poor little hole with my own hard staff?”

     “Oh yes! yes! Mr. Cambon,” cried Jack. “Please do fuck me, and fuck me well. You have been patient this night, as I like it, and now you may have your just desserts.”

     Removing the somewhat softened stump of candle, I thrust forward with my own inflamed member, skewering him there on the table like some writhing animal. I gasped with the delicious pleasure of the push and pull of having him, and it pleased me to feel his own great cock, stiff and dancing between our bellies as I moved. Then, in altogether too short a period, I felt myself helpless under the wash of a tremendous spend, and it was all I could do to keep from baying like a wolf, loud and powerful there in my own dining room.

     “And now,” I said at last, “a few drops of cream for my tea before retiring to bed, if you please.”

     With that I pulled my shrinking piece from Jack’s juicy arsehole, and after putting aright a fallen chair, I sat down to pop the still very swollen head of his cock into my mouth. Drawing upon it nearly only thrice, my cheeks were suddenly flooded with great draughts of his dulcet spend. Most assuredly what I could not swallow I did lap up from the root of his falling tool, and from the great, down covered nuts which lay at the edge of the table between his shivering legs. Then together we staggered for my room, where I would have him and he would have me twice more each before the light of the following morn.

     Of course with his each subsequent visit we had a delicious turn at bottom-fucking, but as the recital of the same kind of thing over and over again is likely to pall upon my readers, I shall omit a repetition of our numerous orgies of lust, all very similar to the foregoing, and content myself by a simple recital of his adventures.

CHAPTER II. Jack Saul’s Recollections

     Though my weekly couplings with Jack were nearly always exquisite, there would be plenty to tide me over, both between visits as well as long after I would see the last of him in the form of his roughly if salaciously written memoirs. It did not cease to astonish me how much experience this young man possessed, and there was much in his tale that both shocked me and pressed against my admittedly insulated credibility. With many corrections made toward grammar, but few amendments to the facts as originally presented, what follows is a transcript of the tale which cost me twenty pounds, several sumptuous dinners, and perhaps a pint of wonderful spend! —

     Dear Sir, —

     I need scarcely tell you that little cocks, and everything relating to them, had a peculiar interest to me from the very earliest time to which it is possible for my memory to carry me back.

     And yet, I was hardly aware of my predilection or at least did not sense its true nature until I was late in my teens. I vividly remember the first time I acted on the acute feelings that I had not yet learned to name.

     There was a family party, which was held every year, and attended by as many Mends neighbors and townspeople as could fit in our modest farmhouse. A fine young man named Jerry, who was remarkably thin and possessed of delicate features and a shy nature, was seated opposite to me. He particularly attracted my attention, it being the first time I had ever seen him. I was so absorbed in contemplating the pout of his lips, the length of the lashes on his eyes, and the lengthy taper of his fingers, that I could not take my eyes off him, so that he quite blushed.

     My avid gaze did not go unnoticed by our fellow dinner guests, including my father who delivered on to my shin an extremely sharp kick. Still, I could barely tear my eyes away, for in my mind he looked like nothing so much as a woman in ill-fitting men’s clothes.

     And yet in the days that passed, I could barely get dear Jerry out of my mind. I would keep thinking about his large and shining eyes, and how brown and shy they were, and how hurt they looked when I so callously stared at him.

     At night while abed, long after I should have been dreaming, I would create fantasies in my head wherein I would take poor Jerry and bind him and tease and taunt him. I would set about proving my daft theory of Jerry’s sexuality by removing his clothes piece by piece, and checking for bubbies, and by inspecting the roundish shape of his bum.

     Night after night I would run this most pleasing little picture show through my mind as I tangled myself in the bedclothes and rocked back and forth, thrilling to a strange and new excitement building in my young loins.

     Then there was one such eve perhaps a year or two later, where I was to discover the startling climax to my secret pleasure: