Now Mary shall do the talking, and what follows in her own narrative in her own words.
I am thirty five now. I taught school from eighteen to twenty four. My father met his death when I was fourteen, and my mother died when I reached twenty. I had one brother five years my senior, who went West before I had my “accident", and he died there a few years ago, so that, as to immediate family relatives I am alone, and under the circumstances I am glad, for I shall, in a few years, when Liza is fifteen, sell out here and move to another city. So much for that.
Father and mother left me fairly well off or rather comfortable, but in my childhood days they must have lived very savingly, for we had only this small house where we are now. You see there is only this one room below, one bedroom and that whole of a room next to us. I slept in a crib as a baby I guess, but from the time I was three I was taken in bed with mother and slept on her side of the bed. We were always put to bed early; brother had a cot in that closet of a room, and I think my parents retired about nine o'clock. Just what year it was when I first began to notice things I do not recall, but I know I was five at the time I first remember what I now tell. Bear in mind we were of the Dutch, and with all their phlegmatic manner they are an amorous race. In the privacy of their homes there isn't so much care on the part of father as to concealing his sex tokens. On this particular night when they came up to bed, he stripped naked, and told mother to do the same. She whispered something to him about me, but he poo-pooed it and she obeyed I lay there with my back to the light coming in the window here, so that my face was in the shadow, while their bodies were fully revealed to me. It is strange how children can even deceive their own parents in such matters, and pretend to be sound asleep. Of course they naturally expected that if I did wake up I would stir first and make some little bit of noise or intimation thereby.
There stood my father (what I remember from having seen it often afterwards) with a big cock, standing straight up his belly, and he seemed to enjoy mother's hand on it when she came to him naked as he was. I saw the pubic hair around both their places, though mother's was rather scanty, just enough to barely cover it thinly so the lips were to be seen plainly in evidence as they pouted well forward from her well rounded belly and plump round thighs, like a regular little cushion.
They lost no time in all those little endearments and preliminaries of love's combat, such as we have, for such knowledge was then even far rarer than now, and even to day, during this so called enlightened age, when so much science is known and applied to every walk of life, so little is known of the divine laws of love by the average man or woman. Is it any wonder so many marriages turn out failures after the “first night” and all through ignorance, for both parties certainly desire to please each other in their respect. Well, as I was saying about father and mother, she lay down on the bed and he on top of her while I saw her hand down by his thighs doing something, and soon I became awfully afraid for mother when his big thing was pushed into her belly until it could not be seen. I felt I ought to scream at him to go away from her, but some fear held me still I guess, because she was talking nice words to him, and I must have thought it was alright and that she wanted it up her belly and liked it there, I could see his bottom rise and fall at each move, and her belly raise up to his at the same time. Occasionally I caught a glimpse of his big thing as it worked in and out. Then I wondered, after they stopped short after their fastest motions, and both muttered nice words and panted for breath. They lay quiet for awhile, and I saw mother put a cloth down there as he pulled it from her, his cock now bending down and all shining and just glistering — for I didn't know then it was all wet with gism. After a bit, with their nighties on, they came to bed, and I lay still and really went to sleep. After that, you may be sure, I slept with one eye open, as the saying goes, and saw many such sights. When alone, I began to feel around by my own bottom and “pee place” to find out what there was for me when I became a grown up woman. After much handling, I found a spot that seemed to feel good when touched. I soon now learned the art, and helped myself to it more often than was good for me, but, except to awaken my passions and curiosity very early, it had done me no physical harm.
When I was six they decided I was to sleep in with brother, being too big to be in with them, so I was put in the cot with my brother Frank, who was then eleven. For a child of six I was well grown, and more like eleven or twelve in size then six. I was very solid and chunky and very well formed in all places, even my titties were now showing up well. I do not have such recollection then of Frank's doodle, though I had seen it. Now I became curious to feel his thing. I only thought of them as “things.”
Within a few nights I had tossed the light summer covers down, and had slid about so that my nightie was well up above my waist. I wanted to see what my brother would do, when he'd see my cute little cunnie as I lay on my back with my legs slightly apart. I must tell you he was always a bashful boy, retiring, and not one of the noisy kind. I heard, rather than saw, that he had raised himself on the cot, and I felt he was most intently looking up my thighs with his head close to my cunnie but not so much as touching me in any place.
Being summer, it was twilight when we went to bed, and even before any moon came to our side, he could see my white skin. Besides, mother always left a lamp burning on the bureau over from the door. I turned over on my belly, so as to let him see my bottom, then, as if dreaming, I turned again on my back, kicked down with my feet, legs wide apart, threw both arms away from my side, my right hand landing as if by accident, on his leg just above the knee, and blew amp; deep breath as though I was in a deep sleep. I was more than ready to meet him half way, but I saw he did not like or was afraid to make the first advance. I waited thus. After a bit I felt him move toward me and in his pushing down in the bed a little, my hand came just so near his stiff thing that I felt my hand touch it. It wasn't long now before he gently put his hand softly and ever so lightly on my aching spot, stroking it so delightfully but very, very gently so as not to a-waken me. I let him caress it while never I showed him I was awake.
He stroked my thighs, then my belly, then my titties and then he put his hand in under my thighs and felt both cheeks of my bottom, Coming back to my cunnie he became more bold, seeing I lay so perfectly still, and began to put his fingers into the moist lips. At this point I opened my eyes and said, “Why, Frankie, what's the matter, what are you doing with my belly?” My hand was now at his cock, and I sort of instinctively in waking, closed my hand tightly on it. He leaned over and said, “Let's play with each other's a bit.” I said, “Alright, let's,” and moved close up to him.
He pressed my hand on his cockie and said, “hold it tight and I play with yours.” He did all he could or knew and it felt nice, He asked me to turn over on my belly so he could play with my upturned bottom, which he did, and enjoyed as much as my belly, for he stroked, caressed and patted each cheek, and gently smacked them, then he inserted his finger into it, and this made me squirm with a new sensation of joy. He now slid his hand in under to my cunt. There wasn't more done then, for soon our parents came up and we both pretended to be sound asleep. Mother came in her shirt only to see if all was right with us before Putting out the light. She must have seen Frank's stiff thing I guess, for she laughed to father over it. Frank and I then heard them take one of their pleasure trips before sleep caught us both. Next day, mother had to go to the farm for something, so Frank and I stripped naked and went to bed. He had me play with his stiff doodle, for that's what I called it then, saying to him that some boys call it a cock, and mine a cunt or pussy. As I fingered his cock, it made him feel good, and it felt nice to feel his finger in my pussy. I then showed him the spot to touch. Soon he said, “Faster, Mary dear, take a good hold of it at the end and rub real fast-fast-er, f-a-s- t-er, Oh, O-Oh O!” and he fell on the bed and told me to stop. I asked him what I done? He, in a wise way said, “You made me “go off”! and that's the end of it.”