11-24-2025, 04:25 PM
I'd like to tell you a little about myself. I was born in 1900, a very fortunate year. My parents belonged to an old, wealthy family, and I was their only child. They weren't close, but I knew they loved their son. I grew up, as they say, "with a spoon in my mouth." Our estate was in upstate New York and was enormous. My mother was sickly, and my father was away on business most of the time. For many years, I was cared for by various nannies and, by and large, led a comfortable life. By 16, I was a handsome, athletic boy who began to notice the legs and figures of the girls and women who worked as servants. One day, my nanny came into our library and found one of the kitchen maids (a pretty 13-year-old girl) in my arms. We kissed affectionately and listened while my eager, inexperienced hands caressed her underdeveloped breasts. Naturally, my parents found out. My mother was distraught and said it was a temptation from the devil. She dismissed the poor girl and hired a Bible teacher for me. When my father returned home from his trip, he called me into the library to give himself and my mother an advance and reprimanded me for a while about the evils in society. I didn't feel the sting too much, since he mostly lectured me. He didn't even mention my own indiscretion.
Two weeks later, at dinner, Father informed my mother and me that it was time for me to accompany him to New York City so he could show his son how he did business. I was thrilled and delighted. Of course, I had been to the city before, but not on business with Father. I had met many of his employees and even attended a meeting in one of his backyards. On the second evening, after we had dined at his club, Father told me he had planned a detour instead of letting us drive back to the Ritz. He explained that I was no longer a boy and that my recent behavior indicated an interest in the fairer sex. I blushed and nodded in agreement. Shortly afterward, we pulled up in front of a huge building, and Father asked me to follow him. We went up to the third floor, and Father knocked on the door of an apartment. I assumed we were going to meet another of Father's colleagues. The door swung open to reveal a statuesque woman in her mid-thirties. She had apparently been expecting us and ushered us inside while her maid took our coats. She called Father by his first name and was sweet and friendly when we introduced ourselves. She told me she'd been waiting for me for some time and that my glans had obviously fallen not far from Father's oak tree. She went to her sideboard and poured Father a drink. His favorite. How did she know? She poured another and, to my surprise, handed it to me. As I sat there listening to her talk and enjoy herself, I realized she was very pretty, full-breasted and slim. Her dress exposed her breasts more than any I'd seen on women in their homes. I couldn't help staring. She and Father seemed to get along very well, and I wondered what kind of business Father was involved in with her. (I was still an innocent, after all.) You've probably already guessed that I was in the company of Father's mistress. After some time and a few pleasantries, Father told Betty that I'd tried to flirt with the employee. My ears burned with heat, and I stared at the floor. Betty approached me, and I felt her gentle touch on my cheek. Then she gently lifted my chin so I could admire her beautiful face. "These are truly lucky girls who catch the eye of such a handsome, well-groomed young man as yourself, Mark. You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's perfectly natural for a boy your age to want to know about such things." The story ended with my father telling me to spend the night with Betty while he returned to our lodgings. I was quite frightened, but I pulled myself together. Father wished me goodnight, and Betty excused herself as she changed into something more comfortable. Her maid (a pretty little girl my age) made me another drink while I waited. I felt warm inside and as relaxed as I was scared. Betty came into the room wearing a shirt that looked as if it were made of air. My eyes widened when I saw her. I could clearly see her sagging, swinging breasts, her flat stomach, her narrow waist, a patch of brown hair in the same place as me between her legs, and her slender legs. I was sitting on her oversized couch and was obviously in an advanced state of arousal.
I spent the entire night in Bettie's loving, knowing arms. I became intimately familiar with every inch of her feminine charms and embraced her no fewer than five times during the long night. I was a man now. My father had told me the evening before that he would pick me up at ten, so I slipped out of the bed where that beautiful, naked woman lay and found her shower room. As I washed myself under a warm stream of water and recounted the events of the greatest night of my life, the curtain parted and in walked the young maid, as naked as the day she was born. I didn't even know her name, but she slid into my arms and asked if I would have anything left when her mistress was finished with me. Having never been in the arms of a naked Black girl before, I was immediately at ease and showed the maid what I had learned the previous evening. Father took a tired, happy young man with wobbly knees into his arms. He didn't say a word about what had happened, but spoke only about the events of the day. For a few moments I almost thought it had all been a dream, but the feeling of my withered and sore penis under my pants reminded me that I was indeed a man.
I returned home a wiser and more worldly young man. One of life's greatest joys had been revealed to me. The joy and glory of reality surpassed my innocent fantasies. The pleasure of thrusting into Bettie's wetness while playing with her enormous breasts was a life-changing experience. Fucking her slender young maid the next morning showed me that every encounter was like a glass of wine from different bottles. Every woman, every encounter should be different and enjoyed in its own way.
Mother returned to her sickbed and her spa treatments, and Father resumed his all-consuming business. I studied diligently and exercised, but now my previous interest in sinful thoughts had transformed into an unchecked, slave-like lust. I regarded almost all of our servants with lust. The young girls and the older women. The plump ones with large bottoms and breasts, and the thin ones. Every morning and evening, I rubbed my penis and imagined my night with Betty and her maid and all the women around me. Something interesting also happened during this time. I began to regard my fellow athletes and some of the male servants in our house in a similar way to how I regard women. This troubled me during my waking hours, but at night, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I wondered, if I could enjoy my own body so much, why shouldn't I be able to enjoy another man's penis? Women enjoyed it, didn't they? My lustful fantasies soon encompassed not only visions of the women in our household, but I also imagined what some of the young men looked like naked. I began to create fantasy couples with our servants and would lie in bed at night, stroke my hard penis, and imagine them fucking like Betty, and that's what I did. One day I needed an old volume of Latin American history, so I went to the library.
Two weeks later, at dinner, Father informed my mother and me that it was time for me to accompany him to New York City so he could show his son how he did business. I was thrilled and delighted. Of course, I had been to the city before, but not on business with Father. I had met many of his employees and even attended a meeting in one of his backyards. On the second evening, after we had dined at his club, Father told me he had planned a detour instead of letting us drive back to the Ritz. He explained that I was no longer a boy and that my recent behavior indicated an interest in the fairer sex. I blushed and nodded in agreement. Shortly afterward, we pulled up in front of a huge building, and Father asked me to follow him. We went up to the third floor, and Father knocked on the door of an apartment. I assumed we were going to meet another of Father's colleagues. The door swung open to reveal a statuesque woman in her mid-thirties. She had apparently been expecting us and ushered us inside while her maid took our coats. She called Father by his first name and was sweet and friendly when we introduced ourselves. She told me she'd been waiting for me for some time and that my glans had obviously fallen not far from Father's oak tree. She went to her sideboard and poured Father a drink. His favorite. How did she know? She poured another and, to my surprise, handed it to me. As I sat there listening to her talk and enjoy herself, I realized she was very pretty, full-breasted and slim. Her dress exposed her breasts more than any I'd seen on women in their homes. I couldn't help staring. She and Father seemed to get along very well, and I wondered what kind of business Father was involved in with her. (I was still an innocent, after all.) You've probably already guessed that I was in the company of Father's mistress. After some time and a few pleasantries, Father told Betty that I'd tried to flirt with the employee. My ears burned with heat, and I stared at the floor. Betty approached me, and I felt her gentle touch on my cheek. Then she gently lifted my chin so I could admire her beautiful face. "These are truly lucky girls who catch the eye of such a handsome, well-groomed young man as yourself, Mark. You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's perfectly natural for a boy your age to want to know about such things." The story ended with my father telling me to spend the night with Betty while he returned to our lodgings. I was quite frightened, but I pulled myself together. Father wished me goodnight, and Betty excused herself as she changed into something more comfortable. Her maid (a pretty little girl my age) made me another drink while I waited. I felt warm inside and as relaxed as I was scared. Betty came into the room wearing a shirt that looked as if it were made of air. My eyes widened when I saw her. I could clearly see her sagging, swinging breasts, her flat stomach, her narrow waist, a patch of brown hair in the same place as me between her legs, and her slender legs. I was sitting on her oversized couch and was obviously in an advanced state of arousal.
I spent the entire night in Bettie's loving, knowing arms. I became intimately familiar with every inch of her feminine charms and embraced her no fewer than five times during the long night. I was a man now. My father had told me the evening before that he would pick me up at ten, so I slipped out of the bed where that beautiful, naked woman lay and found her shower room. As I washed myself under a warm stream of water and recounted the events of the greatest night of my life, the curtain parted and in walked the young maid, as naked as the day she was born. I didn't even know her name, but she slid into my arms and asked if I would have anything left when her mistress was finished with me. Having never been in the arms of a naked Black girl before, I was immediately at ease and showed the maid what I had learned the previous evening. Father took a tired, happy young man with wobbly knees into his arms. He didn't say a word about what had happened, but spoke only about the events of the day. For a few moments I almost thought it had all been a dream, but the feeling of my withered and sore penis under my pants reminded me that I was indeed a man.
I returned home a wiser and more worldly young man. One of life's greatest joys had been revealed to me. The joy and glory of reality surpassed my innocent fantasies. The pleasure of thrusting into Bettie's wetness while playing with her enormous breasts was a life-changing experience. Fucking her slender young maid the next morning showed me that every encounter was like a glass of wine from different bottles. Every woman, every encounter should be different and enjoyed in its own way.
Mother returned to her sickbed and her spa treatments, and Father resumed his all-consuming business. I studied diligently and exercised, but now my previous interest in sinful thoughts had transformed into an unchecked, slave-like lust. I regarded almost all of our servants with lust. The young girls and the older women. The plump ones with large bottoms and breasts, and the thin ones. Every morning and evening, I rubbed my penis and imagined my night with Betty and her maid and all the women around me. Something interesting also happened during this time. I began to regard my fellow athletes and some of the male servants in our house in a similar way to how I regard women. This troubled me during my waking hours, but at night, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I wondered, if I could enjoy my own body so much, why shouldn't I be able to enjoy another man's penis? Women enjoyed it, didn't they? My lustful fantasies soon encompassed not only visions of the women in our household, but I also imagined what some of the young men looked like naked. I began to create fantasy couples with our servants and would lie in bed at night, stroke my hard penis, and imagine them fucking like Betty, and that's what I did. One day I needed an old volume of Latin American history, so I went to the library.