Amanda’s Honeymoon – a Swingers Sexstory

Amanda’s Honeymoon (MF, Victorians, 1st orgasm)
by Jenny Wanshel chilly2@biosys.net

Amanda lay in bed listening to the moans of the woman
in the next room.

They were honeymooners, just like she and Jack were.
The other couple had arrived at the hotel at the same
time as Jack and Amanda.

And that night, as Amanda lay in bed nestled close to
Jack, savoring the bittersweet pain of her torn hymen,
she heard the other woman cry out.

First there was the sound of something hard banging
rhythmically against the shared wall, over and over for
several minutes, then a series of muffled noises that
sounded like low moans and gasps, and then she heard
the other young woman’s voice cry out “oh oh oh!”

She’s just lost her hymen, Amanda thought. Just like
me. She herself had cried out, softly, when Jack first
entered her with his penis. She wondered if the other
woman had heard the low, gasping sob.

Thankfully, it hadn’t lasted long. Jack had wormed his
thing up inside her, as her moist vagina secreted an
oily lubricant that eased the way, and then he had
thrust in and out a dozen times and lay still.

He kissed her and said “Now you are a woman.” She
snuggled into his arms and whimpered, crying softly to
herself, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. Yes, now
she was a woman, a married woman, and she might have a
baby. It was just like Aunt Matilda had told her it
would be, when they had their little talk before the
wedding.

Aunt Matilda had explained that on her wedding night
Jack would take off his clothes and lie naked on her,
and place his babymaker inside her. And then something
would spurt out into her, and it might make a baby and
it might not. They would keep trying until a baby was
made.

She had explained that it might hurt at first. It
probably would.

She would get used to it, and might even come to enjoy
it in time. And eventually (this was the greatest
secret of all) she might feel a great rapture of
ecstasy like…nothing she had ever felt before. But
one had to be patient. It might be years before she
felt it, and even then she might not be sure what it
was.

“Jack will know what to do, dear. All you need do is
lie on your back and spread your legs open, so that he
may enter you. Don’t be frightened.”

“I won’t be frightened, Aunt Matilda,” Amanda whispered
in a quavering voice. But she was.

And then Matilda put on her bonnet and stepped out to
where her carriage was waiting at the curb, the horse
patiently chewing at a bucket of oats, and drove away.

The wedding was a gala affair. Amanda’s parents spared
no expense. There was champagne at a hurried reception
afterward, and then the wedding party raced to the
train station, where Jack and Amanda, giddy and waving
madly at their friends, boarded the train to San
Francisco.

They had a pleasant trip. They had a private car, and
the porter brought them coffee. The scenic view out the
window was wonderful.

Finally they arrived in San Francisco and made their
way to the hotel.

It was in the hotel lobby that they saw the other
couple. They were young, like Jack and Amanda, and
obviously in love. The man was tall and handsome, with
a mustache. The woman was smaller and delicate.

“That must be the other honeymoon couple, they go in
3C,” the hotel manager said to a porter, pointing them
out.

Jack signed his name in the ledger and she signed hers:
Mrs. John Avery.

A porter took them up to their small honeymoon suite on
the third floor and she noticed that 3C, the room the
other couple was to occupy, was right next-door.

Perhaps they might meet the other couple. It would be
nice to have someone to dine with at meals.

They unpacked a little, leaving most of it for the
maid. The little suite had its own bathroom, and Amanda
had a good soak in the tub, knowing that an impatient
Jack must be in a frenzy waiting for her to finish.

After she dried herself off she put on the heavy
nightgown Aunt Matilda had bought for her, and over it
a lacy peignoir. She inspected her hair in the fogged
up mirror. It was a wreck, and it took some effort to
fix it. A woman only had one wedding night and she had
to look perfect.

Jack rapped impatiently at the door, for the third time
in an hour.

“Coming,” Amanda said. She realized that she was afraid
to open the door. As soon as she realized this she knew
she had to make an effort to be brave and she opened it
and stepped out.

Jack was waiting for her. He took in her costume
appreciatively, with a smile, and gave her a kiss. Not
a deep kiss, like the ones he had started giving her
after they became engaged, that inflamed her down to
the tips of her toes. Just a little peck on the lips.
And then he let himself into the bathroom and shut the
door.

She hung up the peignoir and pulled back the covers and
got into bed. She was wearing nothing but the soft
flannel nightgown, and there was nothing under it, just
as Aunt Matilda had instructed her. She could feel the
flannel rubbing the soft tips of her breasts. Jack was
finally going to touch them, in a few minutes, not just
squeeze them through her clothes as she had permitted
him a few blissful times.

She heard voices, and a closet door shutting, and gave
a startled look around the room. Then she realized that
it was coming from the room next door. Evidently the
wall between the two rooms was not too thick!

Was it the other honeymoon couple? Amanda couldn’t make
out their words, just the tone of the voices. It
sounded like them, from what she had heard of them in
the lobby. She recognized the man’s hearty baritone
laugh and wondered what they might have to laugh about
on their wedding night. It was a solemn occasion,
surely. Wasn’t he as scared as she and Jack were? She
could tell Jack was nervous.

Then she had an awful thought. If she could hear the
couple in the next room, did that mean that they could
hear Jack and Amanda? In a few minutes she and Jack
were going to make love for the first time. Would they
be able to tell? She blushed deep red at the thought.
Why didn’t they have more privacy? Didn’t the hotel
know it was their wedding night?

But perhaps that was why the hotel had placed them
together on the same floor. It was the other couple’s
honeymoon too, and the man with the mustache would be
doing the same thing to his darling little bride that
Jack would soon be doing to Amanda.

She would not need to blush (well, not very much) when
she saw the other woman in the hotel restaurant, or
fear that she and Jack were the object of their
whispers and laughter. They shared the same secret.

At last Jack came out of the bathroom, wearing a robe
over pajamas.

He doused the gaslight on the mantle, and then laid his
robe aside on a chair, in the dark.

Then he slid next to her in the big soft bed.

Amanda had never shared a bed with a man before.

“Darling,” he whispered, and then their mouths met in a
deep kiss.

Amanda’s head swam with excitement and panic as he
pulled her close and embraced her. She felt his warm
strong arms encircle her. His tongue was in her mouth,
and one of his big hands slid down her back to stroke
her buttocks.

She reflexively reached back to seize his hand and stop
him, and then remembered that it was her wedding night.
Aunt Matilda had told her that Jack would touch her and
that she was to permit it, even if it felt strange. It
did feel strange.

Jack’s hand gave one of her buttocks a gentle squeeze
and she almost cried out in surprise, whimpering into
his mouth.

No man should ever touch you there…but it felt
exciting.

The touch of his hands was thrilling.

He unbuttoned her nightgown. “No, Jack, wait,” she
said.

He kissed her. “Wait for what? It’s our wedding night.”

“It all feels so strange.”

“It’s new to me, too, dear.”

They kissed some more, and as Amanda began to relax she
felt his hands pulling at her nightgown again. She had
to sit up to let him remove it, and she did.

Under the nightgown she was naked, and she quickly hid
herself under the covers as soon as the nightgown was
thrown aside.

Jack was removing his pajamas. The light was out and
the room was dark, but there was a little glimmer of
moonlight coming in from the windows overlooking the
bay, and now that her eyes had adapted she could see
his shadowy form as he stripped off his pajama top.

She could see the outline of his naked torso.

Then he sat on the side of the bed and removed his
pajama bottoms. She could see only his outline in the
darkness, and could not make out what his naked body
looked like as he slid back under the covers with her.

He was naked now, and so was she. They lay about a foot
apart in the bed, breathing hard.

He held her hand and moved close, until she could feel
his hot breath on her cheek.

“Dearest,” he murmured. “Did they tell you what to do?
Do you know what we are going to do?”

“I think so,” she quavered. “I think I know.” Aunt
Matilda’s instructions had been embarrassingly
explicit.

“Do you want to get on me?” she said.

He pulled her close. “Not yet, dearest.” Then he
smothered her face with hot kisses. She felt his hands
stroking up and down her body, touching her back, her
bottom, her arms, her thighs.

He kissed her throat and then her shoulders. His lips
wandered down her neck and brushed the upper part of
her breasts, and then they fastened on one of her
nipples, and his hands came up and each one clasped one
of her full breasts.

He licked her nipple and she felt it tingling as it
stiffened. His fingers squeezed her breasts.

“They are so big and full,” he whispered in her ear.
“They are beautiful.”

She thrilled to hear him praise her naked breasts. Her
friends at school had thought them rather biggish, and
laughingly called her corseted figure “well-endowed”,
and she had wondered what he would think of them when
they were finally unveiled on this night.

He licked and nipped and sucked on her breasts and she
felt them grow warm, swollen and taut, tingling with
excitement.

Her nipples grew hard and he tweaked them with his
fingertips.

“Oh!” she murmured in surprise as he flicked a hard
nipple and she felt an electric thrill course through
her breast. Then she wondered in embarrassment if the
woman in the next room could hear her.

“What is it, darling?”

“You may do that some more,” she said, blushing.

He flicked her taut nipples again, over and over, and
she luxuriated in the strange and wonderful new
sensation. Her nipples were so hard and sensitive. Her
breasts grew warmer as he fondled them. She could feel
little beads of perspiration forming in the cleavage
between them.

She stroked his strong back with her hands, feeling his
muscles, and wondered if she should do more. There was
more that she could be doing but she did not know what
it was. Aunt Matilda had hinted only that she would
learn.

One of Jack’s hands stroked her belly and slid down to
touch her thighs. Then he tried he slide it in between
her thighs. They were tightly clasped, and she realized
that she should be opening them for him on this night
so she parted them slightly.

His hand slid in and found her moist heaven.

“Ah…”, Amanda gasped. He was touching her there,
where she never touched herself. She had made sure to
wash it good when she bathed earlier, knowing that he
would touch it and wanting him to be pleased with what
he found.

She parted her legs some more. His hand clasped her fat
little vagina.

It was hot and damp.

One finger stroked gently up and down the rim of her
outer lips. Her labia, the doctor had called them.
She felt a most intense excitement there. Something
down there was swelling and wanted desperately to be
touched.

She recoiled in pain when he found it. His fingertip
hit the tip of her swollen clitoris and she gave a
startled jump and a muffled shriek.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”

“You must be very gentle there. It is very tender.” She
didn’t know what it was, but it was tender. And there
was something pleasing about the fact that he had found
it.

His hand caressed her vulva more gently now. She wanted
him to touch that tender spot again, but more gently;
and he did. She felt a feather touch brush it, and she
gasped. It felt better this time.

It was a long time before it occurred to Amanda to
wonder who taught Jack to touch a woman. It was all new
to her. Had she known that an older cousin had
permitted Jack to feel inside her undergarments and
fondle her through the slit in her bloomers, and taught
him some of the rudiments of the art of love, she would
have been deeply shocked.

Amanda had never even permitted a man to kiss her until
Jack.

She felt his gentle fingertips sliding in her moist
secretions, up and down her slit. There seemed to be
some obstruction to his movements and she realized that
her vulva was swollen up and her labia were sticking
out in excitement like her nipples.

So this is love, she thought, as Jack’s hand caressed
her hot, swollen mound of Venus.

She was eager and trembling for Jack to climb on her
now. She wanted to feel his babymaker touch her thing.
“Oh Jack,” she whispered. “Oh Jack.” She parted her
legs wider in invitation.

She stroked his back with her hands and one hand
touched his smooth, fleshy buttock. She snatched it
back as though it was burned. She didn’t know if a wife
was supposed to touch her husband like that.

Jack climbed over her legs and lay on top of her. His
face covered hers and his hair cascaded around her
head, and his hot mouth filled hers with deep kisses as
his tongue plunged into her mouth.

Amanda was panting. She felt hot and faint and feverish
as Jack seemed to engulf her with his big body. She was
pinned under him now, and the sacred mystery was about
to begin. She was his lawful wife and she couldn’t
flee. She did not want to flee, but she was terrified.

Something touched her vagina and she realized that it
wasn’t either of his hands. Something hard and warm and
insistent was pressing at her vaginal lips.

She wondered how his babymaker would find the secret
entrance to her womb, tight and sealed with a perfect,
unblemished hymen.

One of his hands reached down to feel between her labia
and then she felt the tip of his thing slipping between
her inner lips and sliding up and down her moist slit,
searching for the entrance. He pressed hard into her,
but it was the wrong spot. He tried again and a third
time without success.

“Darling, you will have to help me,” he said,
whispering in her ear.

She blushed in excitement and reached down between
their bodies to find it. She found his penis lying
between her legs and she grasped it in her hand.

She had never touched one before in her life. Her
fingers played over it, exploring it to see what it was
like. It was a tube of flesh like a big thumb, hard and
warm. It had an oddly shaped head like a bell. It
pulsed and wiggled as she felt it.

She thought she knew what Jack wanted her to do. She
placed the head of his thing against her moist slit and
rubbed it up and down, thrilling to the sensation as
the tip rubbed her clitoris. She found the tight little
opening to her womb and placed the tip against it.

“There it is,” she whispered. “There.”

She held him in place as he started to press into her.
He put his hand down and replaced her hand with his,
positioning himself, and then he pressed in.

It wouldn’t go in at first. “Am I in the right spot?”
he asked, puzzled.

“Yes, that’s it. Right there,” she replied.

He kept pushing and she felt a little pain. She opened
her legs wider and willed her womb to open to him.
Goodbye, girlhood, she thought, tears welling up in her
eyes as she thought of her lost innocence.

The pain grew worse as he pressed in harder. He pulled
back and thrust in, out and in, and with each baffled
thrust the sharp pain came. At last one thrust went
home into her and she felt a very sharp tearing
sensation and shrieked. She muffled herself quickly,
choking back tears.

“Are you all right?” he whispered urgently.

“Yes. Yes. That…was to be expected. Go on.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, but go on.”

Jack pushed into her a little farther and she gasped
with the pain and the strange stretching sensation
inside her. He pulled out and pushed back in, sliding
in farther with each thrust.

With each thrust he went deeper into her and she felt
the strange odd sensation of feeling herself opening up
inside in a buried place she never knew she had before.
She pressed her head into his shoulder and whimpered
softly to herself, trying not to cry. Aunt had told her
that there might be blood and she should be brave and
not cry if she could help it.

She could feel something warm and wet trickling between
their bodies and running down her thighs and she
suspected it was not her vaginal secretions any more.
Her blood was staining the hotel sheets.

Jack was working his thing up inside her more and at
last he seemed to have gone up as far as he could, with
his loins pressed into her crotch. She could feel his
body pressing on her clitoris. She did not even know
that was what it was called, although she knew she had
a special, sensitive spot there.

Jack pulled his thing almost all the way out, with a
motion that sucked at the inside of her vagina and made
her gasp. Then he slid back in, and worked his strong
body pumping it into her and back out again.

After about a minute of this thrusting he collapsed on
her chest and stopped moving.

Was he done? Amanda did not know what to think. She
hoped it was over. It had not been very much fun after
her hymen broke but that was perhaps to be expected.

Jack kissed her. “You are a woman now,” he said.

“Did you…is your stuff inside me?” She didn’t know
the words.

“I “came” inside you, yes. You could be getting
pregnant now.”

Amanda gasped and hot tears came down her face.
Pregnant! No one ever uttered such words in polite
society. But he was her husband and they were in the
privacy of their own bed. She forgave him.

“Promise me,” she asked. “Promise me.”

“What?”

“That you’ll always love me.”

“I will. And I do.”

She kissed him desperately. After a little while they
moved apart and when his regular breathing told her he
was asleep she got up to wash the dried blood and the
sticky mess of semen off her thighs.

Yes, now I am a woman, she thought.

As she returned quietly to their bed in the darkened
room she heard the sound of the couple in the next
room. She stopped to listen.

There was a sound of bedsprings creaking, and a muffled
thudding of the headboard against the wall. The woman
in the next room made a soft cry.

Was she suffering as Amanda had just suffered, she
wondered? Amanda’s heart went out to her in sisterly
sympathy. Their name was Jeffries, which was all Amanda
knew about them. She seemed like a small woman for such
a big man. She hoped he wouldn’t hurt her and that she
was not as scared as Amanda had been, although Amanda
thought she must surely be! Such a big male creature
covering such a delicate little female, scarcely
farther past girlhood than Amanda was herself. She must
be terrified.

Amanda slid into bed, under the warm down comforter.

“Oh god!” the woman’s voice in the next voice cried and
the headboard pounded into the wall with a heavy thud.
“Oh!” And another thud.

Goodness, Amanda thought. If she and Jack had not just
done what the couple in the next room were doing now,
she would not have known or even guessed what the
noises meant. She blushed and told herself not to
listen. But it was so quiet in the hotel night that she
could not help hearing, even as she tried to ignore the
noises.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The man must be thrusting, as Jack
had thrust into her.

Thud. Thud. There was a creaking of bedsprings, and
little gasping moans. The poor dear, Amanda thought.
She wondered if she dared make any expression of
sympathy, if she met the woman in the hotel. Just a
glance that might be exchanged between them, between
two fellow sufferers who each knew what the other had
passed through.

Could she hear us? Amanda wondered. She tried to recall
how much noise she and Jack had made.

Thud. Thud. The man was still thrusting, from the sound
of it. Why was it taking so long? Jack had made his
emission and spurted inside her after about a minute.
This man in the next room seemed to be taking longer
about it.

The rhythmic pounding continued for several minutes and
Amanda wondered. Then the woman in the next room cried
out: “oh! oh! oh!” and Amanda thought that she must be
in great pain to cry out so.

After this the noises subsided. Amanda drifted gently
off to sleep.

The next day dawned early and the hotel brought them
breakfast in bed. Amanda enjoyed the salmon and eggs,
and the strawberries and cream for desert, and the rich
sweet coffee. Jack ate heartily and before the dishes
had even been taken away he wanted to make love to her
again.

So this is married life, Amanda thought, as she
undressed under the covers. Jack stripped off standing
in front of the window in broad daylight and she saw
his naked body in the light for the first time.

He was lean and wiry, with hair sprouting on his chest.
Between his legs was a mass of curls and a white pillar
of flesh sticking out. Below it hung a dangling sack
like turkey jowls. Amanda shuddered faintly at the
sight, but she could not help staring with interest at
his inflamed male organ. Clearly he was ready to make a
baby again.

It is about the length of one of my gloves, she
thought. And as thick as two of my fingers.

Jack pulled aside the covers to see her naked. She
covered herself with her hands. It was broad daylight.

Then Jack made love to her again. Once again, the
preliminaries were delicious, as Jack nuzzled and
fondled her breasts and stoked her vagina with his
hands, bringing her to the point of physical
excitement. Then he mounted her and slipped in, much
easier this time than the night before, although she
was still sore. He thrust for a minute or two and then
stopped.

He pulled his thing out of her and she saw a long
string of sticky semen like a spider’s web running from
the tip of his penis to her vagina.

His stuff was inside her all right.

They kissed and he stroked her bottom. She wondered
about what Aunt Matilda had said, about “ecstasy”.
There was a special ecstasy that the woman might feel.
But she wasn’t to expect it at first, perhaps not for a
long time. Amanda wondered when it would begin and what
it would feel like.

The pounding on the wall next door began again.

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

Amanda flushed scarlet. She knew she was turning beet
red up to the roots of her hair. Now Jack could hear
them too! To cover her confusion she went to the
bathroom to make her morning ablutions.

When she came out 10 minutes later the noises were
still going on.

“It’s those newlyweds in the room next door,” Jack
said, smirking.

“They’re at it again. Like a couple of rabbits.”

Jack’s organ was hard. “Now how about you and me, eh?”
And soon Amanda was on her back and Jack was screwing
her again.

After he had finished, the pounding of the bed in the
next room was still going on.

It was lunchtime before they got out of bed, got
dressed, and went down.

The hotel dining room was crowded and the maitre
d’hotel seated them with three other couples at a big
table. One of the couples was the other newlywed party,
which pleased Amanda as she had been hoping to meet the
other woman. Introductions were made and the men
started in to discussing the business of the day while
the women were left to chat among themselves.

The other young woman’s name was Dorothy Jeffries. She
was as pleased to make Amanda’s acquaintance as Amanda
was to meet her.

“We’ve been married now,” Amanda announced, “24 hours.
It’s our one day anniversary.”

“Ours too,” Dorothy laughed. “We’ll be married 24 hours
in just 60 minutes.”

Dorothy did not seem very haggard from the pounding she
must have taken. In fact she positively sparkled. She
and her husband cooed at each other like doves. His
name was Thomas.

Thomas was a handsome, mustachioed fellow with long
auburn locks of hair and a friendly manner. His father
was in the mining world and Thomas had a place in the
family business. Amanda admired his good-looking
virility and almost envied Dorothy her catch. Not that
she was the least bit unhappy with her own! She liked
the easy, manly way Jack made friends with Thomas and
talked business as though they had known each other for
years.

In the course of their conversation Thomas made a
casual comment about not having gotten much sleep the
night before and Jack laughed. Amanda blushed. She had
not gotten much sleep herself and she wondered if she
looked it. Jack had slept like a top after they made
love, but she had lain awake feeling the ache between
her legs and thinking with dread and hope of the new
life she had entered upon.

Amanda wanted to extend to Dorothy the sympathy of a
fellow sufferer but Dorothy didn’t seem to have
suffered much at all. She was radiant. Amanda envied
Dorothy her poise. To be so merry only hours after
having her innocence ripped from her and having her
most secret sanctuary painfully violated! Amanda could
still feel a steady throbbing soreness in her vagina.
She even felt a certain pride in this badge of
womanhood.

Jack taught me how to f-f-fuck last night, Amanda
thought proudly to herself. She couldn’t even think it
without stammering. And Dorothy and her Thomas did the
same.

Dorothy asked her why she was so silent all of a sudden
and Amanda became self-consciously aware of herself,
forcing a rueful smile and admitting she was
woolgathering. Then she changed the topic.

“Jack and I were thinking of going coasting in a
schooner,” Amanda said.

“Yes, Thomas and I want to do that too. We’re also
taking a trip to Yosemite-they say it’s the most
gorgeous spot on Earth! I can’t wait.”

“Yes, we’re planning to go to Yosemite too. You take a
train up there. We are renting a cabin.”

“Well, I hope we shall go up together, for I would like
to get to know both of you better, and it would be
delightful to have another couple we know there. We can
stay next door there just as we do here.”

“Oh, that would be fun. Let’s do arrange it, shall we?”

The men were quickly persuaded of the wisdom of this
scheme and the necessary small adjustments in travel
plans were made to coordinate the expedition.

The scheduled and long looked forward to trip to the
cathedral of nature was set for the coming Friday.

Amanda and Jack took their planned trip in the coastal
schooner, as planned, getting ocean spray in their
faces and enjoying it immensely. Tom and Dorothy went
golfing-he had promised to teach her since she refused
to let him go golfing alone on their honeymoon.

Several days passed. Amanda and Jack made love three
times a day (“morning, noon and night” he joked). Tom
and Dorothy spent whole days alone in their room, and
sometimes the pounding of the bed and Dorothy’s squeals
were so loud that Amanda had to flee in embarrassment,
forcing Jack to take her shopping.

Amanda had begun to have a very strong suspicion, even
a certainty, that Dorothy’s cries and moans were the
sounds of enjoyment and excitement, not pain.

Amanda got over her initial soreness after a couple of
days and began to enjoy their love-making more,
especially when Jack began taking more time in pounding
her and kept up a good strong stroke like Thomas’s for
a few minutes. She could hear Dorothy speaking words of
encouragement to Thomas through the wall and she
imitated her words. “Oh yes Jack, like that. Yes! Keep
that up now.”

She liked it best when he sucked on her breasts. He
liked to undress her in the daylight, in front of the
window looking out over the bay, and standing there in
the fresh sunshine in her nakedness she felt rather
proud and vain of her body. Jack admired it and he kept
his admiration no secret from her. When he kissed her
breasts it was an act of worship. She enjoyed this very
much.

Once he had even put his head between her legs and
licked her clitoris. That felt very nice.

Once as Jack was kissing her they heard a loud shriek
from next door. Almost a scream. It started as a
huffing, blubbering bellow and rose to a keening wail,
so loud it must be audible throughout that wing of the
hotel. It was Dorothy’s voice. It sounded like she was
being murdered.

Jack and Amanda looked at each other startled. Should
they go next door and see what was the matter? Had
Dorothy injured herself?

Amanda started to put on a dressing gown, intending to
go next door and inquire. Jack stopped her.

“I think it’s all right,” he said. “Listen.” They heard
nothing.

Amanda wondered. Later, Dorothy seemed perfectly fine
when Amanda saw her at dinner. Amanda did not ask why
she had screamed. She was beginning to have a
suspicion.

While they ate Amanda watched her friend laughing gaily
and popping chilled berries into her mouth and she
thought about what Aunt Matilda had told her, about how
a woman might experience a sort of ecstasy in marital
intercourse.

Aunt Matilda had said not to expect it early in
marriage. It might take years to come and it might
never come at all.

Had ecstasy already arrived in Dorothy’s marriage?
After less than a week?

Amanda did not dare ask. She did not even dare ask Jack
what he thought. She looked at Thomas wonderingly, with
his perfectly trimmed mustache and his broad shoulders
and his laughing eyes.

Amanda did not know who to ask.

Jack had thought that Tom might have struck her. Amanda
looked carefully but there was no trace of a black eye.

That night, when the noises started up again Amanda
tried to rouse Jack but he was out cold. Amanda threw
on a dressing gown and went out into the hall and
pressed her ear to the door. She heard Dorothy cry out
“oh!” and then “oh!” again in a quick, agonized shriek.
Was Jack right? She did sound as though Thomas had
struck her. Were they fighting? There was a wooden
chair in their room and Amanda dragged it quickly into
the hall and placed in front of Tom and Dorothy’s door.
Then she stood on it and tried to peer through the
transom.

She wasn’t tall enough to see through the transom. She
stood on tiptoe and all she could make out was that it
was dark inside the room. She could hear the soft
sounds of the bedsprings squeaking now, which she
hadn’t heard before. And Dorothy’s soft voice murmuring
“yes, yes, oh yes, just like that, Thomas, oh don’t
stop. It feels so good.” Her voice was almost like a
groan but her words told the story. Whatever Thomas was
doing, she liked it very much.

Amanda returned to her own room and put the chair away.
She wondered what the hotel would say if they caught
her spying on the Jeffries’. She only wanted to make
sure that nothing was wrong and that Dorothy was not
injured.

Amanda wondered if she herself would ever moan and
groan like that with Jack. She wondered if it felt very
nice.

She said nothing to Jack about what she had heard at
the transom, but she did express the opinion that Tom
did not hit her.

Jack was as attentive and loving as a newlywed husband
should be and she had no complaints.

The day of the planned trip to Yosemite arrived and the
two couples packed for the mountains, carrying as
little luggage as they could, which was still far too
much in the eyes of the men. They made an early start
and enjoyed the scenic ride as the train wound its way
inland through the coastal mountains. There were
dazzling precipices and chasms, bright waterfalls
flashing in the sunshine, eagles gliding without effort
over the peaks. The little train floated along the
gleaming tracks like a chrome swan ride.

They at last came to the last stop on the train and
switched to a stagecoach, which was to carry them the
rest of the way.

They arrived as night was falling. The proprietor
showed the two couples to their cabins, and luggage was
unpacked. Dinner was Spartan but they were all as
hungry as wolves.

The full moon was out and after their late supper they
went for a stroll in the moonlight. The broad valley
was filled with the cent of grass and flowers and pine
resin. They saw a large owl flit past, chasing a mouse,
perhaps.

Jack held her hand in the moonlight and it was grand.
They went behind a tree and kissed. Perhaps Tom and
Dorothy did the same.

The two couples walked back to their cabins. Jack and
Amanda made love, and afterwards Amanda lay awake in
bed, thinking. The excitement of the day wouldn’t let
her rest. She had never been anywhere as exciting as
Yosemite in her life, and she wondered how it would
look tomorrow in the daylight.

Restless, she put on her robe and moccasins and stepped
out on the porch to get some air. Jack was out cold-he
slept like a baby. She wondered if the Jeffries’ were
still awake.

She stepped over toward their cabin, meaning to knock
gently if it seemed they were still awake and not
“occupied”. A light was burning in the window of their
cabin, a hurricane lamp burning oil. An old-fashioned
convenience compared to the modern gaslights of San
Francisco. She stepped up to the window to listen, to
see if they were awake, and as she paused in the
silence she at first heard nothing.

Then after a moment she could hear Dorothy’s low
moaning. That meant they were “occupied”, surely,
although they had left a light on.

“Yes,” she heard Dorothy whimper as Amanda stood at the
window.

“Oh yes, Tom. Oh god in heaven. It feels wonderful.
Don’t stop.”

Amanda could not restrain her curiosity. The window was
open, a red cloth curtain was fluttering in the gentle
night breeze, and a light was burning in the room. She
stepped up to the window and tugged an inch or two of
curtain aside and peeked within.

At first she saw only shadows dancing on the walls of
the cabin. Then as she peered carefully around the room
from her little peephole she saw the Jeffries’ on their
camp bed.

Dorothy Jeffries was on her hands and knees, with her
face buried in a pillow, moaning. Tom Jeffries was
kneeling behind her, with his body pressed up against
her buttocks.

Dorothy was moving back and forth with a steady rhythm,
rocking on her knees and elbows. Tom clenched her hips
in his hands and he was thrusting into her from behind.

Amanda could see his round, taut buttocks gleaming in
the lamplight as he thrust in and out. He had mounted
her like a dog mounts another dog in heat, or like a
stallion mounts a mare.

His perspiring muscles gleamed as he pushed in and out
of Dorothy.

She was wiggling her bottom in a frenzy, thrusting it
back onto him.

“Fuck me,” she murmured. “Oh, fuck me, Tom. Fuck me.”
Amanda had only heard that word before once in her life
but she knew what it meant. Jack had explained it to
her.

Tom was pounding it into her and she was taking it
eagerly, thrusting herself back onto him excitedly.
Dorothy’s breasts hung down from her chest and wobbled
back and forth madly as she rocked back and forth in
Tom’s grip.

Amanda and Jack had never made love like this. It was
always with Amanda on her back and Jack between her
legs. She wondered if doing it in this fashion
accounted for the gasping, appreciative noises Dorothy
was making.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she moaned. “Keep it up, don’t stop.
Don’t stop Tom I am almost there! Oh!”

Dorothy’s face seemed to be red and her breath came in
ragged, panting gasps. She looked like she might be on
the verge of having a seizure.

Then Dorothy shrieked. It was just like the shriek
Amanda had heard the other night. Her clawing fingers
clutched the bed and she gasped “Oh! Tom!” and moaned
like a pantomime ghost. Tom thrust a few more times and
then he was still.

“Oh, Tom,” Dorothy whispered. “Did you come?”

“Yes.”

They lay next to each other on the bed, cuddling like
two spoons.

Amanda decided she had seen enough and went back to her
bed.

She had a lot to think about as she drifted off to
sleep.

When she awoke the next morning Jack was already awake.
His penis was hard and he was smiling at her. They
kissed and he nuzzled her breasts. After he had aroused
her she told him “I have something I want you to do.”

She got on her hands and knees, with her face pressing
down into the pillow and her bottom wiggling in the
air, the way she had seen Dorothy last night. She
spread her thighs wide so her slit could be approached
from behind. She could feel how engorged it was.

“Like this,” she said, shyly, glad he couldn’t see her
hot face.

“Like what,” he said, puzzled.

“Like this,” she repeated. She stroked a hand back over
her buttocks and down until it touched her slit, and
with one delicate fingertip she touched the rim of her
entrance.

“Here, put it in like this. Come up close behind me.”

He got the idea and mounted her from behind. She used
one graceful hand to hold his organ and guide it into
her entrance.

He thrust in, going rather deeper than he had before,
she thought.

“Oh!” she said. It felt different. She thrust herself
back and forth onto him, awkwardly, trying to imitate
what she had seen.

Jack held her hips in his hands and pushed himself in
and out for a minute. “Oh,” she said. “don’t stop.” A
moment later he came.

“That was nice,” he said afterward. “What put that into
your head?”

“I don’t know,” she lied. It was all she could think of
to say.

Afterward they had a good if rather rustic breakfast at
the inn and prepared to make a hike into the valley.

Amanda had a tough corduroy hiking skirt of which she
was quite proud, and a new pair of boots. She knew her
feet would be blistered by the end of the day but there
was no help for it. Dorothy had a pair of mannish
looking pants.

Both wore colorful red and white checked shirts.

Horses were available but the men wanted to hike. They
had a map of the valley and the little party set off
not long after breakfast, carrying a big lunch in a
hamper.

Amanda wondered, after an hour had passed and her turn
to carry the hamper came around again, if they had
really needed to bring quite that much food. She was
perspiring under her sunbonnet.

The valley trails were gorgeous. It was high summer and
Yosemite was full of wild mountain flowers in full
bloom. It was an orchestra of color and fragrant
scents. Amanda sneezed-there did seem to be something
in the air that made her want to sneeze, try as she
might to hold it back.

Jack passed her his handkerchief to wipe her dripping
nose.

They hiked down the dirt trails for two hours, and
finally it was noticed that the sun was very high
overhead and it must be the noon hour. They stopped in
a grassy circle surrounded by pines, where a small
brook they had been following formed a deep pool. Tom
thought he espied some fish in it and Jack regretted
that he had not brought his rod and reel.

Amanda and Dorothy spread out the big flannel cloth and
opened the picnic hamper and luncheon was served. They
ate heartily of warm cheese and cold tongue. A bottle
of wine was opened and passed around. Amanda had never
drunk much wine before in her life and after a few
thirsty swallows her head began to buzz pleasantly.

It felt like a nice time to lay in the sun and listen
to the bees humming and watch the birds circling in the
distant sky as one gently drifted off into a nap.

She awoke an hour later. Jack and Tom were splashing in
the mountain pool. Their clothes lay on the grass
nearby. Dorothy was watching them.

“Oh, hullo, you’re awake now. Tom and Jack have gone in
swimming.

Would you like to join them?”

Amanda nodded yes and then giggled with shocked
amusement as Dorothy took off her trousers. Dorothy
took off her drawers and the rest of her clothes and
stepped into the pool, splashing big gobbets of water
out of the pool at Amanda.

“Come on then!”

Amanda had never gone swimming naked before, although
she knew her brothers had. It seemed very boyish and
very much like something only a married woman would
dare do.

Amanda stood up, rubbed her eyes and began to disrobe.
She was aware that the three of them were watching her
and laughing. As she unbuttoned her shirt she knew that
Jack, who had seen her naked now dozens of times, was
watching with his usual rapt admiration. Tom was
watching her too. That made her shy.

She struggled out of her boots and dropped her skirt.
She was wearing nothing but a chemise and bloomers
underneath her costume and she stepped up to the brink
of the pool, pulled the chemise off over her head and
tossed it aside. Then blushing she stepped out of her
bloomers and was naked. She quickly hopped into the
water and went in until she was decently covered.

Tom had seen her naked breasts, she knew. And the fine
curly thatch of hair between her legs. She wondered if
he liked her breasts-they were bigger than Dorothy’s,
rather.

She had expected the water to be cold, but surprisingly
it was a bit warm. She wondered. Natural hot springs?
Or the sun shining down relentlessly on the shallow
brook as it meandered through the valley meadows?

They all splashed and roughhoused for a while and then
the men stepped out onto the grass to dry off. Amanda
saw them only from behind as they stepped out, and then
they turned around to talk to the girls, and she could
see their naked penises.

Jack’s penis hung down between his thighs like a limp
thumb. She had seen it before, limp like this. She was
embarrassed that Dorothy could see her husband naked
and see his private part, right out in broad daylight.

She must look at Tom. She wondered if they would see
her looking, and what each would think-if Jack and
Dorothy would be jealous, and Tom vain that a well-bred
young woman could not resist the temptation to peek at
his nudity. But she must look, and she did.

Tom’s body was strong and tall. He was broad-shouldered
and muscled, his belly taut. And between his legs hung
his manly member. It was at least 3 times the size of
Jack’s.

Amanda gave a startled gasp and suppressed it, looking
away and covering her face with her hands. Was it
really bigger than Jack’s? She must look again, and she
did. It was long and thick and hung down quite as long,
even soft and limp, as Jack’s was when it was fully
hard.

She looked guiltily at Jack to see if he had caught her
admiring Tom. Jack’s attention seemed to be occupied by
Dorothy’s breasts. Well, of course it would be.
Dorothy was trying to cover herself, rather
embarrassedly, but she was smiling.

Amanda looked back at Tom again. There was no mistaking
it, his organ was quite big, compared to Jack’s. She
hadn’t known there were such differences between men,
in their private parts. Certainly one man’s hands or
feet would not be 2 or 3 times the size of another’s.

The difference was as pronounced as the difference
between a buxom woman’s large breasts and an adolescent
girl’s flat chest.

She wondered how big Tom’s organ got when it was
swollen and inflamed. It would surely be too big for a
delicate little thing like Dorothy to take inside her.
Perhaps that was the reason for Dorothy’s moans and
cries.

Amanda had watched awestruck in the privacy of their
bedroom as Jack’s organ grew longer and got hard and
took on shape. She wanted to see Tom’s do the same
thing.

Aunt Matilda hadn’t told Amanda about anything like
this.

It was necessary to get out of the water and do
something else before her staring at Tom was noticed.
Had Tom noticed? She had not been looking at his eyes
but thought that perhaps he had been taking in her
breasts, as Jack had been looking at Dorothy’s.

She got out of the water and Dorothy followed her. They
were all quite wet and they would have to sit naked in
the breeze and air dry a bit before they could put on
some clothes and resume a semblance of modesty.

What if other campers came upon them like this?

Amanda sat with her naked rump on the edge of the
blanket and pretended to busy herself with the contents
of the picnic basket.

Thankfully, Tom and Dorothy were walking off by
themselves and she was alone with Jack. She looked
hopefully into his eyes and saw no suspicion, only
love. He kissed her and she wished they were somewhere
alone so they could make love.

They had another snack of cold ox-tongue sandwiches.
After a while Dorothy and Tom came back and they were
all more or less dry enough to resume their clothing,
so they got dressed. She snuck daring glimpses out of
the corner of her eye at Tom as he slid into his hiking
pants and marveled again at the thick thing between his
legs. Not like Jack’s at all.

Oh my, she sighed to herself. Oh my.

She caught Tom looking at her breasts as she wiggled
back into her chemise, and she was not displeased.

“So, what did you think of Tom and Dorothy today?” Jack
asked her later.

“Humph?” she mumbled.

“Did you get a good look at Dorothy’s body? She’s got a
nice figure but not half as nice as yours.”

“Oh, I wish I were as slim as she is. She’s quite a
nymph.”

“She’s got nothing on you. You looked like a goddess in
a fairy tale, stepping out of an enchanted pool wearing
nothing but your long tresses.”

“Oh, Jack. You looked very handsome too. I was jealous
for Dorothy to see what a fine man I have.”

“I think I made a lucky match.”

“I too,” she said.

Jack undressed her and made love to her. Afterward she
lay awake, thinking of Tom. She listened but she could
not hear Dorothy’s cries in the night, only an owl
hooting in the distance.

The following day Yosemite was fogged in by low clouds,
and you could not see more than twenty feet in any
direction. Dorothy had caught a cold, and lay all day
in her cabin, miserable. Tom attended to her, bringing
her her meals.

Jack and Amanda stayed in bed most of the day. They
made love several times, but though he could excite
her, he could not take her across the threshold that
Dorothy had crossed in her love-making with Tom.
Amanda’s nipples grew hard, and her vulva salivated
warm lubricant onto Jack’s fingers. But he could not
bring the low, guttural moans to her throat which she
had heard coming from Dorothy, and he could not pound
her hard and steadily for a long time as Tom did his
young wife.

She felt the size of his penis, slipping in and out of
her, and wondered. Did it make a difference? How would
it feel with one twice the size? There would be more
friction on the sides of her vagina, she would feel
more full. That stretchy feeling that she had lost
after the first few times they made love would come
back. She wondered what it would feel like to have a
bigger penis stretch her vagina further.

The sun came up early the following day and flooded the
valley with sunshine, dispelling the remaining wisps of
cloud. Dorothy insisted that Tom get out and enjoy the
day. She didn’t want him moping around the cabin on
account of her. So he packed a little bag and took off
early, stopping at Jack and Amanda’s cabin to tell them
where he would be and ask them to look in on Dorothy.

Jack was sleeping like a log. It was early in the
morning and he was a late sleeper. Amanda did not
expect him to be up for hours. She watched Tom’s back
as he hiked jauntily down the trail, whistling a little
tune, and she thought to herself that instead of
waiting all morning for Jack to get up she should get
out and enjoy the bright sunny day herself.

She packed a little food in a rucksack and left a note
for Jack, telling him she had gone out for a hike and
would be back in a little while. She started to add a
P.S. asking him to look in on Dorothy, but then she
thought better of it.

And then she put on her bonnet, closed the cabin door
silently and started off. There were only a few trails
to choose from, and after hesitating she saw no reason
not to take the same one Tom had. As much as she
enjoyed a private solitary walk, musing to herself, yet
it would not be unpleasant to meet Tom on the trail, if
that should transpire, by chance.

It was the better part of an hour before she did
overtake him on the trial.

“Oh hello, Tom,” she called merrily. “I decided that
Dorothy was right and that we should not let this
morning go to waste.”

“Where’s Jack?”

“Oh, still asleep, I’m afraid. You can hardly rouse him
before noon sometimes.”

“Well,” he said. “Well.” He looked awkward. Here they
were, two nice married people, alone with each other in
a lonely spot. But they were not married to each other.
It was an awkward fix, deuced awkward.

What could she say, to indicate, to hint, however
delicately, where her interest lay? She could not.

“I thought I might do a little berrying,” she said,
showing him the small basket she had brought. “It would
be nice to take some to Dorothy. Have you see any?”

“Not by here. Over by that stream where we were
yesterday, there were some berry bushes.”

“Yes, I remember those. Shall we look there? If you
care to accompany me, that is.”

That “if you care to accompany me” was as bold an
approach as she had ever made to a man in her life.

He looked hesitant and awkward, as though he had
suddenly for no reason started to perspire a little.
For a moment he had a problem finding his voice, and it
croaked like an adolescent boy’s when he found it.

“Yes, I would be happy to,” he said.

“Very well then,” she said. She put her arm through his
and they walked side by side down the trail.

“I hope Jack won’t mind my being alone with you like
this,” he said.

“No more than Dorothy will mind my being alone with
you.”

“I think she might mind a lot.”

“Why?”

“Well, she thinks you’re awfully beautiful, you know.
She might think I felt that way too.”

“And do you?”

“I shouldn’t admit it to Dorothy.”

“When we were bathing yesterday,” she said, “I had
never seen a man’s naked body before in my entire life.
Except for Jack’s. I thought you had a very beautiful
body. Like a Greek statue.”

“I thought the same about you, Amanda.”

“I am glad the only two men who have ever seen my naked
body both admire it.”

“Can I be frank?”

“I will be very cross with you if you aren’t.”

“I envy Jack.”

“And I envy Dorothy.” They were walking hand in hand
now and she squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

They found the berry bushes near the brook and picked a
quantity of berries. Laughing, she fed him, popping the
ripe berries in to his mouth one by one until the dark
juice ran down his chin in rivulets.

“I’m hot,” she said. “May we bathe, do you think?”

“I think we may,” he said, in a nervous voice, averting
his eyes.

“Well then,” she said. They walked to the deep pool
where they had swum the day before.

She stood in front of him and unbuttoned her shirt. She
dropped it to the ground and then unfastened her skirt
and let it drop to the ground.

“Are you coming in with me?” she said.

He unbuttoned his clothes and stripped them off. He was
hesitant to remove his undergarment, so she took hers
off first, dropping her chemise and standing before him
in her white linen bloomers, with her breasts bare.
Then she took off her bloomers.

Tom peeled his underwear off awkwardly. He did not
bother to turn around to hide himself from her gaze but
he was clearly embarrassed.

He got clear of his clothes and stood naked before her.
His big male organ hung limp between his legs as she
gazed on it. She wondered how big it would get.

“You know, Tom, I really do like you a lot,” she said,
in a husky voice.

“I like you too, Amanda,” he said.

She sat down on the soft grass and lay on her back and
spread her legs apart wide.

“Tom, before we go in, there is something I should like
you to do for me.”

He stood between her legs gazing down at her plump
vagina. His penis started to grow longer.

Yes! she whispered triumphantly to herself. Oh yes!

“Come closer,” she whispered.

He knelt between her legs. His organ grew longer and
began to rise into the air.

Here’s where I get it, she exulted.

It stood erect, twice the size of Jack’s. It was as
thick as the handle of a boy’s baseball bat.

“Tom,” she said. “What makes Dorothy cry out so at
night? Is it because your organ is so big and strong?”

“I don’t know,” he said. His face was red and his voice
came out as a strangled gasp. He was breathing hard.

She took hold of it with one small hand, unable to even
get her hand around it, and then as he reclined over
her resting his weight on his arms she guided it until
the head like a plum touched her slit. She slid it up
and down the damp channel between her labia, rubbing
over her clitoris with an electrical sensation so
powerful she could feel it in her nipples.

He looked like a satyr, with his thick erect manroot
jutting out from his hairy loins, its head purplish and
its length encircled with a lattice of throbbing blue
veins.

She pulled his head against her breast and pressed his
lips to her engorged nipple.

“Oh, god,” he murmured in a throaty voice as his thick
mustache nuzzled her breasts and he sucked at her
nipple. His hand touched her thighs and stroked up
between them, as her hand caressed his hard rutting
penis.

“Put it in now, Tom,” she said.

She had him positioned against her entrance and he
began to thrust in, slowly and gently, but firmly. The
plumlike head split her labia.

She had to put a hand in her mouth and bite on it to
keep from crying out.

“It’s going in,” she whispered, feeling the swollen
lips of her vulva spread wide to receive his thickness.

She felt her entrance stretch wide to accommodate him,
as it had stretched for Jack when he first made her a
woman on their wedding night.

“It feels very big,” she whispered. Like a bull, she
thought. She remembered how in the Roman mythology
Jupiter had come to one of his paramours-was it Europa?
— in the form of a bull.

Her inner dampness welled up to meet his invading
thrust. He pulled out and then slid back in, more
slickly, her vagina more welcoming. She felt the walls
of her vagina stretching taut to accommodate him. He
thrust in deeper. Each inch brought her a new sensation
of fullness, within.

He pushed in deeper than the deepest point Jack had
reached.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“Fill me up,” she said. It was a strange intense
feeling that made her ache and thrilled her more than
any sensation ever had.

He pressed in deeper with each thrust until he was
fully seated in her, his long penis all the way up
inside her. She could feel him pressing into her stiff
clitoris as he pushed home.

“How does it feel?” he asked once he was in her up to
the hilt.

“It feels divine,” she says. “Oh you fill me so.”
He began pumping her with long, steady thrusts.

“Oh, god,” she whimpered. “Yes.”

Her arousal mounted as he steadily pushed her higher
and higher, as she rose to meet him hungrily with each
thrust.

He kept thrusting rhythmically, rock hard and steady,
his big penis pistoning into her willing womanhood.
“Fuck me,” she whispered. “Fuck me, fuck me.” Just as
she had heard Dorothy say.

He lasted five times as long as Jack ever had. After
the first few minutes, she didn’t care what happened,
she just wanted it to never end.

She felt as if the whole world was revolving on the
axle of his hard penis.

She heard her own voice sobbing and whimpering with
smothered joy as though it were another woman,
somewhere nearby. She bit his shoulder and blubbered
into it, gasping, her face red. Her back arched as she
rose to meet him, as with each thrust his manhood
filled her.

“Oh!” she whimpered. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried aloud.
There was a roaring sound in her ears and she could
barely hear herself.

She felt his penis throb and something hot gushed into
her as he spasmed. Then she felt her own spasms begin.
Starting at the center of her clitoris a great spasmic
wave passed over her body. She felt it raise the hair
on her scalp. Then another wave began, spreading out
like a great wave of warmth from her center until it
filled her body, and another wave and another.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” she cried out, first loudly,
then sobbing to herself. She was crying, hot tears
running down her face.

Tom’s big penis finished thrusting and spasming and lay
inside her, thick and limp.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, brushing her cheek with
his lips and tasting her salty tears.

“It’s too good,” she said, after a little while. “Oh
Tom, it’s too good.”

She wouldn’t let him leave the grove until he had
screwed her again. He taught her the word for the
mystery she had experienced: an orgasm.

Afterward they lay in a state of nervous exhaustion,
wearily succumbing. Oh my-ecstasy!, she thought.
“Does the man feel anything like this?” she asked.

“I think not. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the
world, to a man, but I do not think he feels what a
woman feels, when it is like that.”

“When I come, you mean.”

“When you come.”

They went back to their respective spouses, tired and
disheveled. She wondered if Jack could see what she had
been through on her face. She must be glowing. She felt
an inch taller. She wondered if Dorothy could smell her
on Tom’s body.

No one noticed. Dorothy was asleep and Jack was amusing
himself. He did not mind her few hours absence at all.
It was a wonderful day for a hike; he thought he might
get out and stretch his legs himself.

“I brought you some berries,” she said shyly, guiltily.
He opened his mouth and she popped them in one by one,
laughing, until the juice ran down his chin and soiled
his shirt.

Jenny Wanshel
chilly2@biosys.net

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *