"Don't malign yourself," I replied earnestly, "that's just why you are seductive and excite a man."
"Really?" she cried, and so the talk went on while I cudgelled my brains for an opportunity but found none and all the while was in fear lest her father and mother should return. At length angry with myself, I got up to go on some pretext and she accompanied me to the stoop. I said "Good-bye" on the top step and then jumped down by the side with a prayer in my heart that she'd come a step or two down and she did. There she stood, her hips on a level with my mouth; in a moment my hands went up her dress, the right to her sex, the left to her bottom behind to hold her: the thrill as I touched her half-fledged sex was almost painful in intensity. Her first movement brought her sitting down on the step above me and at once my finger was busy in her slit.
"How dare you!" she cried, but not angrily, "take your hand away!"
"Oh, how lovely your sex is!" I exclaimed as if astounded, "Oh, I must see it and have you, you miracle of beauty!" and my left hand drew down her head for a long kiss while my middle finger still continued its caress. Of a sudden her lips grew hot and at once I whispered.
"Won't you love me, dear? I want you so: I'm burning and itching with desire (I knew she was!) Please, I won't hurt you and I'll take care; please, love, no one will know", and the end of it was that right there on the porch I drew her to me and put my sex against hers and began the rubbing of her tickler and front part of her sex that I knew would excite her. In a moment she came and her love-dew wet my sex and excited me terribly; but I kept on frigging her with my manroot while restraining myself from coming by thinking of other things, till