You've cracked a Patty Pan."
And from that night unto this day
Hodge in that crack would pop,
A prick as thick as any brick,
But the crack he cannot stop.
So maids beware, heed well your pans.
With this my tale is ended;
If your pan's cracked by prick of man,
It never can be mended.
Throwing down the manuscript, I had a finger in each of their cracks sooner than it takes to write. "What darling little pans each of you has! I long to throw you on the bed and kiss them. What do you think of mine with its soft curly hair? Only it's a broken pan, you know, my dears, as I've of course had my husband."
"La, and was that really so nice, dear lady? Oh, I love you so, do let me look," exclaimed Patty, slipping off my knee and kneeling between my legs to get a better sight of the object of her curiosity, which she first kissed most lovingly, and then, parting the hair, put a couple of fingers right up my cunt. This so tickled and delighted me that I leant back in the chair and pulled Annie close to my bosom as I hugged and kissed her, whilst I still had a finger in her little slit, as far as it would go. My legs also mechanically opened to facilitate inspection, as Patty exclaimed, "How deep my two fingers can go right up and it is so warm and moist. It makes me feel I could eat it!"
In a few minutes we were all tossing on my bed in a state of nature. They laughed, screamed and blushed as I excitedly examined and kissed their respective cunnies. How my tongue revelled around their budding clitorises till they rewarded me with those first virgin emissions which are always so deliciously thick and creamy. How lovingly they both repaid all my caresses, Patty paying the most ardent attentions to my cunt, which delighted her more and more every moment, whilst Annie seemed to prefer sucking my bubbies as I gamahuched her.
"What a treat it would be to see you both lose your maidenheads at once," I exclaimed.
"Ah! couldn't the pages do it for us, dear lady? I do love that Charlie so!" appealed Patty without consideration in her excitement.
"I'll try and manage it; but we must be careful not to let them into our secrets before I can find out how they are disposed," I replied.
"Oh, I know Charlie is a rude, bold little fellow, wicked enough for anything if he had the chance. What do you think, I once actually caught him handling his affair in the pantry when he thought no one was looking and when I happened to enter suddenly; it was sticking out straight and red-looking at the top. His face was quite red and he seemed rather short of breath; but the impudent fellow, like the daredevil he is, shook it fairly in my face as he asked me to give him a kiss, saying: 'What do you think of this, Patty? That's how it gets, when'-oh, mistress I can't tell you all he said."
But I pressed her and at last she told me: "It was when we had been waiting on his mistress. 'Oh, Patty,' he said, 'isn't she lovely, such mouth and teeth and loving eyes, I feel as if I could jump at her, I do!' "
"Very well, Master Charlie," I laughed, "perhaps I shouldn't so much mind if you did, when we are alone someday I will give him the chance and let you two dears know all about it. But I will first read you another song from 'The Haunted House' and to-morrow I will give you a copy, and I expect both to be able to sing it soon."
"LIVE AND LEARN."
Tune – Drops of Brandy
When I was little and good,
A long time ago 'm afraid, Miss;
A stiff prick was not understood,
I was a quiet little, shy little maid, Miss.
I knew but one use for my cunt,
I knew not what joy 'twould afford me,
The sight of a cock would affront,
And talk about fucking have bored me.
But now, oh, much wiser I've grown!
I'll stretch my legs open for any,
My modest shy feelings have flown,
And fucks, why, I can't get too many!
I like a stiff prick up my arse,
Though too much of that makes you bandy.
When I look at my quim in the glass,
It always pouts red and looks randy.
I like a fuck – morn, noon, and night,
On every weekday and Sunday:
If I'm fucked on the Sabbath, all right!
But I want to be buggered on Monday.
Oh! Let it be hot or be cold,
I'm always alive for a cock, Miss;
Men, fair, dark, young or old,
Here's a hole that'll take in their jock, Miss!
I can spend for an hour at a time,
My cunt is as hot as fire, Sir;
The man that says: "Fucking is crime,"
I say to his face, he's a liar, Sir.
Then give me a prick in each hand,
Turn my arse north, my cunt to the south;
And get all your jocks well to stand,
One in each hole and one in my mouth;
I'll fuck and I'll suck and I'll frig,
Until you're all quite bloody well spent, Sir!
Then I'll take in the lodgers again,
And never once ask them for rent, Sir!
Hurrah! for my cunt, my best friend,
Hurrah! for a cock to kiss, Sir;
I'll fuck till this life comes to end,
I hope too, there's fucking in bliss, Sir!"
When we awoke in the morning it was too late for a repetition of our tribadism, so I made them get up quickly and bring in breakfast, promising to look after Master Charlie during the day.
part VI.
After luncheon I ordered Charles to take several shawls and a floor-stool into the summer-house of the garden, as I wished to take a nap, and was sure the open air was more conducive to refreshing sleep than the close atmosphere of a room on a warm sunny day.
Annie and Patty exchanged significant glances as I gave the order, but my uplifted finger stopped any further manifestation of intelligence.
We had a fine large garden at the back of the house, in some parts beautifully shaded by umbrageous elms of a venerable age, especially on the banks of a small circular pond about twenty yards in diameter, where, facing the south, the summer-house stood under the trees by the side of the small lakelet.
I followed Charles as he carried out my orders, and arriving at our destination, ordered him to spread the shawls over a sofa which stood there, for fear the leather might be damp. Then he fetched a pillow, and placed the foot-stool at my feet.
I had nothing on but a loose morning-wrapper, with my chemise and drawers underneath.
"How very oppressive it is," I exclaimed, as I languidly sank back on the couch as soon as he had prepared it, allowing as I did so, a most negligent exposure of my neck and a slight glimpse 'of the orbs of love beneath.
"Ah! Oh, oh! My goodness; the dreadful cramp!" I almost screamed, as bending down in great apparent pain, I pulled up the robe to rub the calf of my right leg. "Ah, oh! what torture!"
Charles was on his knees at my feet in a moment.
"Oh, my Lady, is it so very bad? Let me bend up your toes!"
"No, no, not there, rub the calf, as hard as you can, Charles, there's a good boy!" I replied, my face wincing under the pain. "Higher, rub along my leg, the foot's no use!"
Somehow the toe of my bad foot touched his trousers just outside the most interesting part of his anatomy; the slipper had fallen off and I could feel his prick quickly harden and throb under my toes, whilst his face flushed all over, and I thought quite a perceptible tremor passed through his frame, as he went on rubbing my leg below the knee, and I need not say how my own lustful temperament was affected by the contact.
My robe had opened down the front so that he had a full view of legs, drawers and bosom, perhaps the wrinkle of love itself.
My blood was in a boil and I could no longer resist the impulse to enjoy such a beautiful Adonis.
"Get up, Charles, it's better now," I said in a low voice, "and pray don't tell what you've seen by accident. That cramp threw me into such an awful agony I did not know how I tossed about!"
"Dear Lady, your secrets are always safe with me," he replied, looking down bashfully as he rose to his feet. "I could kiss the ground under your feet to prove my devotion!"