'Mama, please stay and talk with us', Richard pleaded, but I would have none of that, merely saying that such foolishness was not proper and that it was time we all retired.
Thereupon I rose, settled my gown, and departed- leaving the two, as I thought, in a state of embarrassed, if not shamed, confusion. Such is the wilful simplicity of the human mind, that-having entered the hall and hearing them whispering-I assumed them to be exchanging regrets and even arguments over what had passed. Reaching my room, I lit a cigarette and threw myself on my back on the bed while uncaringly casting ash upon the floor. That small detail comforts me for in retrospect it at least indicates to me what a carelessly foolish state of mind I was in, which is to say that I had not let anger overcome me as it should have done. I am weak. I am prone to make excuses for others. How else could I have endured a marriage as fruitless in responsive desire as I did?
Were I to search my soul, I would say that I am also given to believing that others are as I myself am. Therein, however, lies a betraying irony in the light of what was to occur.
I know not how to frame these passages, and yet would be a coward if I did not. Extinguishing the cigarette, half-smoked, I rid myself of my dress, my drawers and my chemise and-being naked to my waist corset and stockings-brushed my hair, though more in absent-mindedness than otherwise and conscious that my steps were not entirely steady. The floor itself appeared to waver underneath my feet, and yet I felt in no mood then for sleep, was restless, knew my cunny to be tingling just a little with desire, though I believe that normal in a woman such as I-which is not to denigrate myself, I trust.
My mind was mazed. Do I excuse myself? Perhaps I do. The door opened and I made to turn about. Before I could do so it had closed again, and there to my considerable dismay, astonishment-or call it what one will- were Jeremy and Richard, naked, with their penises erect, their faces flushed with fearful eagerness.
'Ah! How DARE you!', I remember uttering, but in that fraught moment they had advanced upon me. Richard clasped me round my waist and pressed his throbbing pego to my belly, bidding me to shush or Amy would be disturbed. I gasped, I thrust against him wildly, but to no effect. Indeed, such efforts as I made to free myself were entirely frustrated by Jeremy who took up post behind me and pressed his prick upright between my bottom cheeks.
Dear heavens, how loosely could my pen now run if I should let it!
'Get out! My god, get out!', I moaned while Richard tried to kiss me passionately. Their cocks rubbed fore and aft-aroused me all against my will, though weakened as it was by wine and thought. My wrists were gripped by Jeremy who held them tight down at my hips and coursed his knob up-down between my nether cheeks while Richard's pronged itself beneath my fur.
'Come, Mama, let us-do it, please!', choked Richard.
Thereupon I screeched unwittingly-the last cry of despair perhaps.
'Mama! What is it?', then came Amy's voice from behind her door, along the hall.
'I t… t… trod upon a pin! Now, go to sleep!', I called, and knew perhaps that in my answer was surrender to their wickedness. They knew I dare not then cry out again. Such almost soundless struggles as I made availed me not, and I was urged and drawn on to the bed, cast down on my back thereon, my shoulders pinned by Richard while I gritted out my pleas to him. I threshed my legs, but Jeremy seized diem underneath his arms and scissored them apart, then-falling on me-probed his penis to my nest.
I bucked. I clawed at Richard all in vain. The knob slipped in.
'I'll fuck her first, then you, old chap', said Jeremy.
' Ri-chard!', I choked, but in the moment Jeremy was sheathed. Dear god, the stinging sweetness of that stiffened rod that pulsed its message to my clinging walls! — 'Ah, no!', I heard myself moan out. The cry, however, was but a cloud of out-pulsed breath in Richard's mouth. Jeremy's belly flattened down on mine. His rod grooved slowly back and forth-and not, as I expected, with excited thrusts. He has clearly had a mentor of some sort, a married one, perhaps. Despite myself, I came. Almost at once I spilled and further oiled his prick.
'She's coming on, old chap, leave go of her. I have her now', said Jeremy.
Dear heavens, had they only held me all the time! I could at least have snuffed my conscience out. Richard leaned up, and Jeremy sleeked full upon my form. I blubbered, blustered, yet he too captured my weakling mouth and stung his tongue to mine, panting his pleasure and yet not beyond control. 'Twas I who slipped across that boundary with my acquiescence to the wicked deed. The working of our lips was heard, and all such soft and liquid sounds as come when mouths and naked bodies move in an abandoned unison.
Of the long hour that followed in that darkling room, I have but a mosaic of lewd memories. I moaned, I whimpered, sobbed-and yet to all their crudities of muffled speech I uttered not a word, was as a limp and willing plaything to the pair who spermed my nest in turn.
I was not spoken to by Jeremy. I was spoken of, and that alone intensified in a most curious way the dark excitement that I did not wish to feel. After both had spurted their liquid treasures, I allowed my fingers to be drawn around their pricks-played with them feebly, as in some far dream, and yet I did. That, and their youthful ardour, brought them to a stand once more.
'I say, get her up on to her knees now, Richard. What an arse she has!', was said.
Inert and well-juiced as I was, I made to stall their efforts by dumb slothfulness, by mournful sounds that veiled my sad hypocrisy. As heavy as a sack full of potatoes was I rolled, urged up until my bottom bulbed to Jeremy who knelt behind me and, despite my gritting squeal, entered his knob between the deep cleft of my nether cheeks and forced the tight ring of my bottomhole. I jerked, or tried to, but he gripped my hips. In girlhood had I been invaded such, but never since. I grinched, I bit the pillow as the knob urged in, the helmet slipping past the rim, insinuating inwards till my breath puffed out. I bit the pillow, tried to glide down on my belly then, but Richard ringed my waist and held me up.
“Good fellow, Richard, hold her so. I have her now'.
'Oh no!', I sobbed-but did the words escape my lips, or sang they only in my head?
One long, slow thrust-a grunt-and he was in. His balls brushed underneath my sticky pouch, his hands replacing those of Richard where they clasped beneath the soft curve of my belly and thus held me corked. I whimpered. Thus we stayed, then he began to work it in and out with long, slow movements, making my head swim, feeling the suction of his penis there.
O dark miasma of desire-O dark! I heard my breath out-gasping, screwed the pillow up and strove not to cry out the secret pleasure I sustained.
'She's taking it, old chap, I knew she would!', gasped Jeremy, whose prick moved faster then, finding an easement in my narrow aperture, causing my fleshy buttocks on and on to slap against his belly as he worked.
'Come-work your hips more, Deirdre!' Ah that voice that came to me from a long, distant past, a bed squeak-creaking underneath my knees after the birch had done its burning work…
Do I excuse myself? Excitement dons a mantle often of confused delight and shame that mingle even while the deed is being done. If such is my excuse, then it must be. One's emotions oftimes are as hounds that willy-nilly chase the fox. I yielded, I received, first to the one, and then… But no, I'll write no more of that. The morning, come dimly to my eyes at last, found me alone in my much-tousled bed, the stains of sin like puddles on the sheet.
I cried a little-silent tears-then heard the maid approach, and she surprised to find me clothed still in my corset with no nightgown on. I spoke not to her, though, save just to ask if all were up.
'Master Richard's guest has gone, ma'am', I heard to my joy. The young rogue had risen early and had fled. My tears dried at the thought of that. He would live all day in fear of my appearance at his home-angel of vengeance with unfolded wings demanding audience with his Mama. Then came the sound of Richard's voice, asking the maid if I were yet awake. At that I sat up in the bed and called him in, to his astonishment, no doubt.