Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

was now unable to move the lower part of my body, and my no longer serviceable balls drooped help- lessly from their suspender. The pressure of her lousy but expert weather-gig gave me excruciating agony : for it was impossible even to work in order to produce ejaculation, on which I naturally relied to gain my point. But not for nothing had I been trained in the School of Mines ! (I thought you were at this time but seven years old, I ven- tured. He seemed not to hear.) By pulling at her bubbies by their nipples, which were an excellent grip, I was able to start a swinging movement, whose aim the charming but unscientific girl did not suspect. In a few moments my ponderous balls were again thundering on her already weak- ened isthmus, and at the same time I was gather- ing myself, excited by the voluptuous nature of the struggle, for a stupendous effort. My chance came at last : the tow-wow relaxed its agonizing pres- sure, and in one rush of boiling tapioca pudding I emptied my eighty odd pounds into her cloak- room, drowning three innocent old gentlemen, and the maid who looked after their hats and sticks. It was too much for her capacity : the internal pres- sure of so much liquor neutralized that of her now wearied India-rubber-plant, and I was able at lei- sure to achieve the fourteen fucks and a dry-bob which I had originally contemplated. Amid the plaudits of the entire assembly I withdrew my dripping banana from her now yawning grease- hole, and with a flourish of my hat and an exag- gerated bow to the company, I withdrew, having fairly (I think you will admit) won my spurs on the field of battle. Were you knighted on the field ? I now dared to inquire, seeing him silent. No, you young suck-shit, he answered genially, but I was bloody well poxed. [34]