Dead. Yes I am dead. Been so for over two hundred and fifty years. It did not have to happen. It was my fault. I never learned to keep my place, to keep my thing in its place.
It started when Miss Josephine returned from that eastern finishing school. I do not know what they taught her there but I do know that she came back very interested in learning about sex. That is where I come in. You see, I am or rather was, two hundred and fifty years ago, a house slave. I was only six months into my training. I was being groomed to replace Jesse who spent his life serving dinner to the white folks. White gloves and all. Since I was the younger, it was part of my duties to bring in water from the well for the house. That is where it began.
Miss Josephine came to me one day while I was bringing water back to the house. Saucy thing she was too in that frilly dress. Practically begged me to do her. Took my hand and put it straight on her breast. Did not ask me, just did it. Probably figured that since her father owned me, she could do what she liked. It was the truth too, though, I do not think that her father had this in mind.
So what was I to do? I squeezed her breast. she took off her dress and hugged my face to her bosom. I proceeded to suck and tongue her nipple. Did she like that! My hands could not help it. I reached down to her womanhood and it was wet. This girl was horny. She was ready for me. We did it that first time on the ground between the trees. After wearing my self out, nothing happened. Neither of us had a climax. She was disappointed. I knew from other experiences that a woman does not always climax. I told her that when she was more relaxed with me, things would happen.
I do not know if she was a virgin but she took me in with ease, no pain, no blood. Months later, I learned that she was a virgin at least in the sense that counts. At that eastern finishing school, she did things with the other girls. I was the first man to put a cock in her but my cock was not the first thing that has been up there. I suppose that is what finishing schools are really for: to teach young ladies manners, music, french and how to fuck your husband.
Miss Josephine like to experiment. At first she wanted to do it in the straight forward manner, you know, the missionary way. Sex with a man was just then new enough to her that the old in-and-out was exciting. Later, she wanted me to lick her on her private just like those school girlfriends of her's did. So I did. Then she wanted to do me as I had done her. At first she did not like it. Claimed that the first fluid was nasty. I laugh and told her that this was only the beginning, that there would be more, a lot more, and just as nasty.
We did it all the ways we could think of. We did it doggie way, with her on top, sitting down, side by side, and so on. I even went in to the back hole. she was curious enough to try it but she could not understand its appeal as it did nothing for her. We were very good together. I came to look forward to our meetings. It was good to have a woman who had no reluctance with the act and would do any thing you could want. She was more a man in this than most men. She would ask me about other women. Who they were and what we did together. I did not tell her who they were though she could have easily found out from others. She asked me what the other women had said about me sleeping around with others, or how I felt about them. I told her that it did not matter because I always left my lovers well loved. I do not believe that she cared that she was sharing me just as long as she could have me whenever she wished. I see now that I did not understand. I know now that Miss Josephine hated to share me. This is the way of women who have choice in their lives. The other slave women I had sex with may not have liked me sleeping with their sisters, but they were in no position to do anything about it. I too was in no position to do anything about Miss Josephine.
We went on for months. I do think that we realized how lucky we were. No one seemed to notice at least anyone who counted. The other slaves knew but they also knew that their survival depended on seeing but not seeing. I have noted in the years since I died that this is the way of servants every where. We were lucky that there were no babies either. Maybe they taught Miss Josephine about things like that in the eastern finishing school.
Things slowed between us when Miss Josephine became engaged to be married. She would meet me less and less. Spent more time with him. It was a surprise when she told me to come to her room at night. In all these months, she always met me at the well and we did it among the trees. Most surprising of all was that she wanted me to come to her bedroom the night before her wedding. It would be difficult and dangerous but it could be done. If she wanted me this last time, I could not stay away. I believed that no woman could really do without me in them. I was some great cock, the golden dick.
We screwed for a long time. The danger pushed us to higher passions. We were insatiable. At long last, we were done. I was putting on my pants when it happened. Miss Josephine started to scream rape. I could not believe what I heard. After these many times, I could not believe I heard rape. I should have run but her father was too fast. He burst in to the room with a gun and shot me right there. I fell on Miss Josephine's bed and died.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/3if1zz/keep_it_in_your_pants
You had to.