Sadopaideia

Vintage Erotic fiction from the early 1900s. The experiences of Cecil Prendergast, undergraduate of the University of Oxford, shewing how he was led through the pleaseant paths of Masochism to the supreme joys of Sadism

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Excerpt:

"You'll tumble me too much," she murmured as she gently pushed it away. "I can't have my frock rumpled, people would notice. Take that naughty hand away."

As I didn't obey, she took it herself and placed it with a dainty little pat on my own leg above the knee. "There it can't do any harm," she added with an adorable smile. She was going to take her own hand away, but I held it tight. I drew her still closer to me and kissed her again and again, my tongue this time boldly caressing her own. She gave a little sigh and let herself sink quite freely into my arms. By this time the old proverb that "a standing prick has no conscience" proved its truth. My right hand released hers and I took her in my arms, my right arm this time encircling her below the waist, with the hand clasping the left cheek of her bottom.

Modern dresses do not allow of much underclothing and I could distinctly feel the edge of her drawers through the soft silk of her frock.

"Oh, you darling," I murmured as I kissed her. By my taking her close to me, she naturally had to move the hand which had gently held mine. It slid up my leg and at last met John Thomas, for whom my thin evening-dress trousers proved an altogether inadequate disguise. She gave a little gasp and then her fingers convulsively encircled him and she squeezed him fondly.

That was enough for me, my hand slid down her frock and up again, but this time inside. It found a beautifully moulded leg ensheathed in silk, dainty lace, the smooth skin of her thigh, and at last soft curls and the most delightfully pouting lips possible to imagine. My mouth remained glued to hers, her hand grasped my eager weapon, and I was just about to slip down between her knees and consummate my delight when the lips that I was fondling pouted and contracted, and I felt my hand and fingers soaked with her love, and I realised that her imagination had proved too much for her, and that while I was still unsatisfied, she had reached at least a certain height of bliss.

Printed in a large 12 point font for ease of reading