“Oh! how nice of you, dear mamma,” said I, as I took her in my arms, and kissed her lovingly. “Feel, mamma, how much harder it is, so tell me at once how I am to relieve it.”
“Well, my dear child, we women are made to relieve such stiffnesses as this; we possess a sheath to put it in, and then it gradually softens.”
“Oh! where—where—dearest mamma, do tell me?”
She took my hand and put it down on her cunt, already quite wet with the excitement she had been in.
“There, feel that, do you not find an opening?”
“Oh, yes, but how am I to get in there—won’t it hurt you?”
“I will show you.”
She turned on her back, opened her legs, and desired me to mount on her belly, with my legs between hers, then guiding my rampant pego, and rubbing its great head up and down the lips to moisten it, she told me to push gently downwards, for it was so large that I would otherwise hurt her. Playing the novice to perfection, I awkwardly but gently soon thrust it in, up to the codpiece. She uttered an “Oh! oh!” when it was fairly hilted; then throwing her legs over my loins, and her arms round my waist, she begged me to move my bottom backwards and forwards, always thrusting it in as far as I could. Three or four pushes finished me off, in the great excitement I was under. She, too, died away with a great convulsive sigh. I took care to cry out—
“Oh! my dear mamma—oh! stop. I am dying—I—I—am dy—dy—ing.”
Her convulsive internal pressures were delicious, and quickly roused my prick up again. She also had come to, and had glued her lips to mine—giving her own, and then asking in return for my tongue to suck.