Remembering the first two sexual exploits of my long-ago lover, Alan, has brought back further episodes in his bottom-quest. Further to 'Pygiaphilia' and 'Semper Figura Chapter 1,' here is the third coupling that came his way, in 1942, in what was then Southern Rhodesia. He was supposedly awaiting travel to the UK to take up a university place, but his real intention was to join the services, as so many wild colonial boys had already done, including the fiancé of this third pygiagasm.
The deprived womanhood of his small town were aware that he was available, and skilful in his ministrations, as attested by Jean and Rhoda. There were no secrets within that sisterhood and its members were happy to share this temporarily accessible orgasmaker.
1
He had met, and even danced with, Sally, whose conduct at the time had struck him as a little odd, possibly even neurotic. For she had snuggled close for several turns of the floor, and then had pulled away, refusing to look into his face. When the record ended she had given him a dazzling smile and a pat on the arm.
At his next orgasmathon with Rhoda, after yet another tennis match, she explained. 'Poor little Sally, her man went off to England when war began. He trained as a pilot and was killed in the Battle of Britain. Of course, it was terrible for her. It was worse because she and her man had done much fok, and she needs it ever since all the time very bad. She wants you to help.'
'But I can't take advantage of a young girl like that.'
'Not all you taking advantage. She wants taking advantage of you, too. She has heard about you from Jean.'
'But she's tiny. I'd be afraid of hurting her.'
'Small woman can have big kont. You can make, not break.'
'Where would we go. She lives with her parents, doesn't she?'
'You come here in the night. Tell her when you dance.'
'You're really sure about this?'
'I am the mother for all women in this verdamt dorp, and I look after them good.'
2
To his own rueful amusement, Alan found it difficult to suggest an assignation to this small, slight girl. She was barely five feet tall and delicately built. She probably weighed six stone at the most, and though she had to be in her twenties she looked like a schoolgirl. Which made him reluctant. But as they circled the floor in a nifty quickstep and he wondered when to make the advance - perhaps in a later number - she herself spoke up.
'Will you go with me?' she asked, looking up into his eyes and grinning. 'I know Rhoda spoke to you about me. You needn't worry. I'm tougher than I look, and if I had a baby that would be good. It would be like my Archie had left me pregnant.'
'Are you sure?' Alan felt bound to ask.
'I wouldn't be saying this otherwise. You should know that women usually say what they mean, if you listen, especially if they've thought about it for a while first.'
'Rhoda suggested we could use the sports pavilion.'
'That will do, yes. But first you can see me home tonight. My parents won't expect me to go with them. They're always hoping some eligible young man will escort me before happy ever after. No such creature here, though nowadays. They've all gone to war, just as you're going to do. I know you're supposed to be going to England to study, but no-one believes that - well, no woman.'
Thus, after a tightly-clinched last waltz, to the same record as usual, and Sally's brief visit to the cloakroom, Alan found himself walking down the rows of bungalows in fitful moonlight, her tiny hand paw locked in his own. He had to dispel the impression he was responsible for a child, especially as she was bouncing along beside him, swinging their joined hands, almost skipping.
She accounted for this exuberance by saying, 'This is the first time for two years that I've walked like this with a man who might be going to do me.'
What does a young man say to that? Alan said nothing, but when they entered a deep shadow he stopped, pulled her close and bent to feel for her lips with his own. She received him with appreciative murmurs and gave herself up to their eager lingual explorations for some minutes. But she abruptly drew back, and said, 'We can't be long, as my parents saw us leave together and will expect me home soon. They see themselves as guardians of my honour, which means my doing nothing more than a little flirting.'
'We'd better walk on, then,' Alan said.
'Another five minutes would be all right. You look quite strong.'
'Do you want me to carry you?'
She chuckled. 'In a way, yes.' There was a rustling of fabric, then, 'Put your hands one me, here.'
She was evidently holding her raised skirt round her waist, for he found himself holding her small, bare, bottom. She chuckled again. 'Put my knickers in my bag before we left. Now, just feel if I'm ready. Go on, it won't bite.'
He moved a hand onto her mount, with its tuft of soft fur, and traced a finger into her crevice. It was slick with her love-juice. He located the little ridge of her clitoris, but she said, 'No time for that now,' unbuckling his belt and pushing down his slacks and pants. 'Ah, yes, you're good and ready. Lift.'
As he grasped her under her thighs, finger-tips into her gluteal creases, she parted her legs and gave herself into his hands as he raised her and she secured a hold behind his neck. He felt for her opening with his penis-point, and she reached underneath a cheek to guide him He slid all the way in at once. She let out a little triumphant gasping cry, and came immediately, grinding her slippery labia against his pubic bone, as the orgasm intensified, to the point that she seemed to lose consciousness, her hand slipped from his neck, and he was holding her dead weight.
After a few seconds she came to, emitting a long sigh, and said, 'Phew! That was quick. Shows how much I needed it. But we haven't finished, have we? Go on. I want to feel you do it.'
He was, naturally, so keyed up and exhilarated that he needed only to ease her up and down a couple of times before, thrusting hard into her, he ejaculated, jerking and swaying, and she said, 'Oh, yes. You really did, you really did me. We really did it.'
