The Prodigal Virgin

An eBook By Anonymous.

Those same exquisite naked legs which had so rejoiced the eyes of Stanley Cochrane clapped together now upon a slender wrist as, with sudden increased agitation, Marion recalled the entire denuding of her rear mounds by her brother-in-law under the jesting pretense castigating them.  Quickly the thighs parted again, however, and the girl sighed, ashamed.  For, as she touched the lower rims of her bottom with investigating fingers, trying to make more vivid the recollection of what Stanley had done and said, that slim wrist was so located as to be caught directly in her warm crotch.

The consequent sensation, coupled with the embarrassed memory of what had pressed her nearly naked stomach as she writhed in the man's arms while learning those new kisses from him, made the maiden more distracted than ever.  She once more clapped her legs together.  She rolled them upon her wrist.  Her face waxed scarlet in the gloom of the chamber.  And then, bitterly ashamed of thus having yielded for the moment to the sensations that thrilled her, she determinedly parted her thighs once more.

Her breathing was agitated.  She gathered her memories of that scene upon the dunes with an attempt at chronological exactness.  Then – ah, yes – then he had bared her bottom, already so imperfectly and gauzily shrouded.  His fingers upon it in the process had so terribly shamed and – yes – excited her.  And she had seen how the tan of his face had shown a dull red and how his eyes seemed to gleam.  He had been actually rough with his strong fingers but she had not minded that somehow.

Then they had kissed with those kisses which Mildred called her a ninny for hesitating to accord her new brother.  But, heavens, they had kissed while he had both hands upon her naked bottom!  And then his amazing, entrancing, agitating use of his tongue!  No wonder she had almost forgotten for the time how he was handling her flesh.

But she recalled it all clearly now.  Yes, he had sunk his fingers in the yielding flesh of her buttocks while their mouths were yoked, while, with her nerves in flames, she had begun to respond timidly with her own tongue.

unmaidenly?  It had been his great finger projected with the grossest indecency between her legs from the rear!  That finger had nearly crazed her with shame.  And the only way she could get it withdrawn had been to humor him by letting her tongue play with his.

But almost immediately she had found her head swimming, her nerves singing.  She had lost herself in the deep delight of that strange and prolonged kiss.  It was a "kiss" undoubtedly.  He had said so – and, of course, since it was delivered with the mouth, it must be a kiss and hence permissible, according to the code of Mildred and of all these jolly, forward, indecorous young lights of the best circles of Chicago.  But what a kiss!  And Stanley had vowed to teach her other kisses.

Which reflection brought her to that amazing pair of kisses in the grooves of bare flesh just beneath her buttocks and her own intense and intimate reaction to those shameful caresses.  It seemed to her that she could still feel his warm mouth, his ardent breath, upon her skin.

With raised knees and elevated loins, she slipped her fingers from either side to touch the very spots where he had laid his lips.  She knew exactly where she had felt his mouth – in either channel.  Heavens!  Not three inches from the groove of her sexuality!  No wonder she had felt the reaction so intimately.

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