More than a month had passed since Irene’s wedding when I finally saw her. She wasn’t looking happy. I sat her down, made a nice cup of tea and waited. She said nothing, then it all came out. After they returned from their honeymoon, they went to live at Henry’s parents place. I was right, Father was a martinet and mother a necessary appendage. Henry’s brothers and sisters did not leave them alone, allow them any privacy. Henry’s father was horrified Irene would refuse to resign her position and tend to the family home.
Irene’s logic, presented at the time, was that if she did not continue to work, they would not be able to purchase a home of their own. This did nothing to pacify the father-in-law. He wanted a scullery maid, Irene said, a house keeper. This was the only reasons, she suspects, that he allowed Henry to marry her and he made life more difficult for her than was needed. Having seen some families like this, I can sympathize with Irene. and in the course of our discussion, I found myself suggesting she talk to her mother, perhaps their moving in with her would ease a lot of that tension.
Then we started discussing more important matters, her wedding night. The night she lost her maiden head it was painful and wasn’t getting any easier. After some questioning, she descibed his yangu as big, very big. Her hand estimates placed it at some ten to eleven inches long and as thick as her wrist. I had to see this then, I thought.
Our conversation continued and after I had an idea of what the problems were, I invited her and Henry to dinner the next Friday night.
Friday evening came and just after six o’clock, Irene and Henry arrived. We greeted each other, I invited them to come dine. I talked with Henry about some things, he asked questions about China and was a little surprised at me describing them as more than just superstitious heathens. Being of Midlands stock, he was quite parochial in his outlook, but that wasn’t unexpected.
Dinner over, I set dishes aside to soak and Henry was quite complimentary about the food. I had made a very mild soup, some chicken in a sauce with stir fried vegetables. A very easily made sweet Portuguese coffee custard biscuit cake that everyone seems to like. Throughout the meal, I plyed them both with iced tea, being a warm day and very warm evening, but with more than a dash of a fine locally made brandy.
Dining over, sitting in the lounge, I spoke about giving talks in the Museum, describing my China to a largely unknowing and British oriented group of people.
“One topic,” I said, “Could be health and healing.”
Henry was surprised, “Really? What could they teach us?”
“Oh, believe me, a great deal,” I replied. “In many ways, we are centuries behind China, especially when it comes to our physical well being.” Politely, Henry didn’t scoff at this, but allowed me to continue. “For example, I can see that you, Henry, have a neck and shoulder injury and Irene has developed a hip problem.” Irene’s eyes widened but she remained silent. Henry though, was intrigued.
“Yes, I have a sore neck and my shoulder is often sore as well. How did you know?”
“I learned about it in Hong Kong. I found that Chinese healers have magic hands when it comes to such injuries.” I didn’t mention that I had been noticing Henry’s head and shoulder movements were sometimes restricted and had been all evening.”I also learned how some of these injuries could be attended to.”
“Really?” Irene asked, “You never said anything.”
“I hadn’t thought of it,” I said, “There being no-one around to be carrying such injuries, other that Henry.”
“And you say it can be treated?”
“Oh yes, quite easily, actually.”
“I’ve seen Doctor Shaw, but he stretched my head and neck and told me it would likely come back again.”
“Well, he doesn’t have my knowledge, or experience. But he is right about one thing, if it’s not treated properly, it will not just come back, it will get worse in the future.” I went on to explain what was happening and how it can be relieved. I told him then, I can help, and I can show Irene how to perform the same procedure so that when his symptoms return, she can treat him.
He was astounded by this. I then commented “There are a lot of gossips around and I would not embarrass you, your wife, your mother-in-law or parents by having you coming to my home for treatment setting tongues wagging. Also, what happens inside this house never leaves it.” I was rewarded with a suitable blush and a nod. I looked at Irene, “If you want to learn, of course.” Irene nodded and Henry agreed, after a bit more convincing.
I went and got some palm oil I had and when I came back, I asked Henry if he was having any leg pains as well. Even more surprised, he said occasionally his leg would get very sore and ache. “Then best we treat this now. What is happening is you have hurt your shoulder, you neck feels some pain, but to relieve it, you hold your shoulder in a comfortable, almost painless, position. This is not your normal stance and the rest of your body accommodates this change, but eventually starts to object to it. This is why it spreads.” I paused, “To treat this properly, I will require you to take your shirt off.”
Henry was shocked at my demand. “Cannot treat your shoulder with your shirt on. Don’t be embarrassed,” I said, “Irene is here and it will all be proper.” I had to laugh at Henry’s priggishness. If it all goes well, he will be cured of that before the evening is over.
Irene stepped in and said, “I am here and if Victoria says to take your shirt off, then please do so. It won’t hurt you.”
Struggling, Henry took his time and said that he wasn’t wearing an undershirt, it was too hot. I then told him I had seen naked men before, working in fields, men and women oyster divers off the coast of Japan, near naked coolies loading barges so men’s nudity was nothing. He really was shocked at this and I said, yet again, that Chinese people do not have to same sensitivities as we Europeans being a lot more free and open in many areas than we are likely to ever be. “And besides, your wife will be here, watching, learning, so she can perform this at home for you.”
Finally, he was naked from the waist up, even if blushing like the little boy he was inside. Strong, broad chested, no spare fat on him at all, really nice to look at. I sat him on a kitchen chair and started to wipe the oil over him. I began explaining what I was doing and why. I am no doctor or scientist so cannot explain why it works, only how it works.
Henry cried in pain as I pushed my fingers into the muscles across the back of the shoulder, “Oh yes, that will hurt,” I said, “These are very tight. You’ve been carrying this for a while and relieving these muscles will hurt, I’m afraid.” Irene was considerably less sympathetic, “Come on, you’re a big boy now. You can cope with a little hurt.”
“It will get better as the muscles ease.” I did not stop putting pressure on and Henry reported that the pain was lessening. I worked all over his shoulders, his neck and within minutes, even with my limited experience, I could feel the muscles easing. I talked to Irene through this whole process and asked if she would take over. She did, replacing me and she began to run her hands over Henry’s skin. She had been watching, emulating my patterns, the touches, the finger pushing, and I explained to her what she was doing.
After a few more minutes, I suggested Henry lay on the couch so Irene could manipulate his back muscles. It quickly became obvious to Irene this was unsuitable so I suggested that we retire to the guest room. The bed there is far higher than the couch and while still a little low, it is far better than the couch. Irene agreed, and I thought I saw a mischievous glint in her eye.
As Henry lay on the bed, Irene followed my instructions about releasing the tightened muscles over his back. When she had done this enough, I said, “Now, if you’re willing Irene, we can work on his leg.” She agreed immediately. Henry was a bit slow understanding what that meant, but he began to object. Irene told him to stop and think. If he already felt better, then the task should be properly finished. “Take your trousers off,”
Hesitantly, Henry did. I avoided looking at him, waiting until he was laying on the bed before looking and he was wearing these ridiculous drawers, almost knee length pants made of a flannelette fabric. I almost laughed, I had never seen anything like them before. I thought thank God that Chinese and Japanese men wear sensible under clothing. I started talking Irene through the steps to release the tensions in the leg and she could only go so far before Henry had to roll over to lie on his back. Again, Irene had to essentially order him to do so.
When he did roll over, the bulge of his manhood was, well, rather pronounced. I knew I had to go even further. For the next ten minutes or so, I again talked Irene through the essential movements to remedy muscular stress in Henry’s legs. When done, I told Henry to lie there and not to move, to breathe properly and recover his inner peace while I talked to Irene.
“Now, Irene,” I said, “For your problem.” Henry’s eyes flew open and demanded to know what problem. “The problem that makes her so sore and irritated she has trouble walking properly.” I replied, “The problem we are going to remedy now.”
He looked at Irene as she said to me, “I didn’t realize you would know.”
“Of course I know, it’s obvious, just as the cause of it is.” I looked at Henry. I could see that he was seriously baffled, amazed, embarrassed all at the same time.
“Me? I’m causing a problem for Irene?”
“Yes Henry and we’re going to fix it,” I said in my best ‘school ma’m’ voice, “Irene, if you would be so kind as to remove your dress.” It was Irene’s turn to look like a startled rabbit. She obviously thought I wanted to have a look at Henry’s private parts, which I did, but I’m not sure she realized I wanted more than just a look. I nodded and said gently, “It’ll be alright, if we do this properly, you will not have to worry about him hurting you again.”
I knew precisely what her problem was and it really was, their inexperience in matters of the bedroom. Henry started to move, to say something, “Stop,” I ordered, “Stay exactly where you are!” Startled, he did stop, “Henry, please, this will only help.” I took a breath, “You both need to understand the life you have chosen with each other and I can help here.”
“More Chinese wisdom?” Henry asked, somewhat cynically.
“Lots more,” I replied, “But only if you’re willing to learn. Otherwise you can continue to cause problems for your wife, but remain childless, likely permanently damage both your and her health.” I was being completely serious. Henry didn’t scoff as Irene turned a pale color.
“Yes, Henry,” I said, “In matters of intimate relations between husbands and wives, the Chinese have been far more open, far more knowledgeable than we in Europe have ever been. Sit up and watch, I will show you.” Henry stayed silent, “This will seem strange to you, but we all have to learn these things. We should not be so priggish that we cannot learn from the experience of others.”
I again instructed Irene to remove her dress, which she did, without a lot of hesitation. I smiled inwardly, knowing I was going to be enjoying both of them soon. She was wearing a similar wrap as Rose had across her breasts and bloomers. The heat of the days and evenings here make the layering of clothes very uncomfortable. I helped Irene undo the top and allowed her breasts release, on view for us to see. Henry’s reaction was one of pure male lust, although he did try to hide it.
I reached over and gently caressed her smallish breasts, complimenting her look. “A woman is not a frail flower Henry, neither is she a piece of old leather. She needs to be treated with care and respect. You begin with a kiss, like this.” I leaned in and kissed Irene, she responded. When we broke, I could see the swelling of her nipples, a sure sign of arousal. “These,” I said, running my hands over her breasts, “Will tell you if your wife is responsive to your kisses. And you can do this.”
I leaned down and kissed her breast, taking a nipple into my mouth. While doing that, I began to untie the knots holding her bloomers up. I lifted my head off her breast and eased the material over her hips. I moments, Irene was completely naked to my gaze. Broad hips, a dark thatch of hair over her meng si, covering her yin. Young and beautiful, fresh and tasty, I smelt. I laid her across the bed, with her knees on the edge.
“This is the first thing you need to know, Henry, how to pleasure your wife.” I kissed her again, then reached down with my hand and covered her bi. I began a soft circular motion and was rewarded with the feel of heat and moisture on my palm, completed with a gasp of pleasure. “Watch, Henry,” I said, “See my fingers caressing her,” I kissed a nipple, “My lips are arousing her,” I slid a finger inside her love canal, and pulling it out, I put it into my mouth, carefully watching him. Very nice taste. Henry was shocked, horrified and aroused all at once, I heard him gasp and saw the outline of his manhood, hard inside his drawers. “Come Henry, lie beside your wife, kiss her and feel her love for you.”
Henry moved and lay on the other side of Irene. He did exactly as I asked him to, he kissed her with a gentleness I hadn’t seen from him before. Glad he was listening. He reached down and caressed Irene’s bi, carefully, using the same circle pattern I did. “Time for you to get rid of those drawers, Henry.” He looked at Irene and she nodded. He moved, lifted his hips off the bed and I pulled them down, then off. Laying back down, I got my first look at his yangu.
Henry’s foreskin partly covered the knob, but that’s normal for a hardened yangu this size. He was much larger than the average male, I saw, about 2 hands long, and thick. No wonder poor Irene was so sore it was uncomfortable to walk. “I’m going to undress and join you, then show you both what to do next,” I said in a matter of fact manner and catching a familiar male glint in Henry’s eyes, the glint of male lust.
I had already prepared myself, with a light breast covering and silken underwear, smaller than bloomers, more comfortable, which I was able to quickly divest myself of. “Henry,” I said calmly, “There are things you need to do to show your wife you truly love her. Do these things and she will never even consider another man.” Henry’s look of surprise told me all I needed to know. “In future years,” I finished.
I took a gentle hold of Irene’s foot and lifted it. With my other hand, I began to caress the inside of her leg, working my way up to her knee. Skirting the knee, I ran the tips of my fingers over Irene’s inner thigh. she moaned and gasped at the feeling this aroused in her. I then bent and kissed the inside thigh, gently nibbling a little on the soft flesh. Irene flinched at the audacity of my assault on her flesh, but her gasp told me she liked it.
“There are many ways to pleasure your lover, Henry, but this is the most intimate.” I lifted his hand off her bi, then brought his fingers to mt mouth. I licked his fingers, saying, “Our mouths are a wonderful tool, so versatile.” I lowered my mouth onto Irene’s bi, and ran my tongue the entire length. “This little button, Henry,” I said exposing her yindi, “Is a source of great pleasure for her.”
I lowered my mouth and took her yindi into it and sucked gently on it. Irene moaned and gasped and shook, all at the same time, providing an indicator of how much she liked this. I lifted off slightly, and lapped, her yindi, then ran my tongue down her swollen lips, back up to suckle once more on her yindi. Her moans and gasps let us both know this was precisely what brought her pleasure. I lifted off her and looking up at Henry said, “Your turn.”
Henry looked rather dubious, and a little surprised. Obviously he had no idea what he was doing. I moved out of the way, encouraging him to move into the correct position. I went through it with him, explaining what he should do. In very quick time, Irene was again gasping and moaning and shaking in all the right places. I told Henry to keep doing what he was doing, to bring her to her high place. She started shaking then gasped loudly “What What was happening!” Henry lifted off her, startled thinking he may have been hurting her. I knew she had lost it, had stopped herself.
I patiently explained what was happening, that what she was feeling was similar to what Henry feels when he evacuates his seed, a perfectly natural response. They were both amazed, they had never heard of such a thing. What we don’t know we hide behind a cloak of respectability, making us ignorant savages, according to Chinese standards, but I didn’t say that to them. Most men, I said, do not understand that women too feel the pleasure of sexual congress, and that was the real secret to keeping her happy, I told Henry. I told Irene that this was something she would have to practice, to let herself go, to feel the full pleasure that a woman can feel. I complimented Henry on getting her to that point but suggest he allow me to complete the task, to let Irene know what she is going to feel.
They both agreed. Henry and I swapped places but I told him to be touching her, all over, to be kissing her, lips, breasts and i would take her forward. I took her bi back into my mouth, my tongue pleasuring Irene as she had never been pleasured before tonight. It only took a few minutes and Irene was back at that point, but she had listened and as my tongue lapped her yindi, as I suckled it, she shook, letting it happen, and was swept away in the sensuous feelings that a high ending can have. Her moans and trembling told me she was at that point, I inserted a finger into her love tunnel and she seemed to have every muscle seize at the same time. She pushed Henry off the bed a little, wrapping her legs around my head, pulling my mouth closer to her yin. I must admit, I could barely breathe, but I knew I had keep suckling her, she was having her first high ending.
When she fell back onto the bed, getting her breath back, releasing me, she asked, “What- was that it? The high ending you talk about?” I confirmed it. “You can do that to me anytime you like!” I had to laugh at that, then pointed out that it was her husband’s duty to pleasure her. “Oh he will, just you can too if you like.”
The audacity of her comment was quite a charm, I felt, “Yes,” said Henry, “If it makes Irene happy, then please, feel free.”
I had to shake my head and replied, “As fun as it may be, there is far more yet, and you may not want to do this any more after tonight. It may not be a good idea.”
“More?” Irene asked, “What more? How much more?”
“A lot, believe me,” I replied, “Now, it’s Henry’s turn to experience a similar kind of pleasure.”
“Similar?” He asked.
“Oh yes,” I replied, “Similar. Irene, you’re going to have to pay attention here, for this is not easy, not hard, but definitely not easy.” I told Henry to lay back onto the bed, which he did. I then reached for his yangu, “This is the first step, Irene. He is already hard, but there will be times when he is not.” I gently rubbed it, up and down in slow strokes. Henry was reacting positively to my ministrations, with sighs and small moans.
I leaned over and lowered my head so my mouth covered the crown of his yangu I allowed the hard rod to push open my lips, then used my tongue to wipe over the crown. I heard his gasp of delight, as soon as my mouth took his crown in, and every gurgle after that was a little like music to my ears. I lifted off, sensing a disappointment, and said to Irene, “And this is how you can keep your man from the arms of another woman.” I lowered my mouth back onto his yang, stroking him with my tongue and lips. I lifted off again.
“This take time to learn properly,” I said, “And practice.”
“Dick,” said Henry, “We call it a dick.”
“His dick,” I echoed, I knew the crude English word for it, but had refrained from using it. Irene moved closer and took Henry’s dick in her hand in a firm grip. Before she began to stroke him I said, “Be careful here, this bit of flesh can be easily injured if you grip too hard.” She lightened her grip immediately as she began to stroke him, up and down. “That’s good. Now make sure you roll the skin up over the crown, the ridge around the crown is the more sensitive part.” Irene did as she was instructed, clever girl. I let her continue for a minute or so, “Your arm will get tired, but only for now, you will quickly build your stamina here.”
I let her go for a minute more and saw that Henry was releasing some of his holy juice. “That juice mingles with your own when his dick is inside you. Gently squeeze the crown and allow your fingers to be smeared with it.” She did, “Now lick your fingers.” She looked up at me, surprised, “Taste him, taste his juices, as he did with you.” She complied, hesitantly, but did it.
“It’s not awful, is it?” I asked.
“No, not at all. Different, but a nice different.”
“The next part will likely be the most difficult for you,” I said, “Bend over his dick and lower your mouth onto it. But- when you do, leave your lips closed, keeping your teeth out of the way and allow the stalk to push them apart.” She started to maneuver herself into a better position. “Oh make sure your lips have enough moisture on them. Lick them.”
I watched Henry’s face as she lowered her head and saw a look of both lust and enjoyment pass over it. I explained how to take it in, without inducing a gag reflex. Not too much, don’t try to take any more, using your tongue, the inside of your cheeks, even your teeth but only very gently.
I explained how his juices would erupt from his yang and sometimes, pleasuring him with her mouth may be the only way she may be able to do so. “Keep sucking him,” I ordered, “You will soon receive his juices.” I had been watching Henry and he was getting close to his discharge. “Take it in,” I told her as her head bobbed up and down on that swollen stalk.
A few moments later, “Keep going! Don’t stop!” I said, “Swallow it all!” just as Henry began to eject his juices. Irene lifted off Henry’s yang in surprise, seemed to half cough and swallow at the same time. A second pulse hit her face and she flinched. Then a third hit her eye.
“OW! That stings!” She cried.
“Yes,” I said, reaching for the bedside drawer and a kerchief, “That’s why we don’t lift off until he is finished evacuating his seed. Let me wipe it.” I carefully wiped the cloth over Irene’s eye as Henry gasped his apologies but I told him it wasn’t his fault, it really was mine, not properly explaining what would happen and how to deal with it. Leaning in, I licked the juice on her cheek, and kissed her on the cheek, then the mouth.
She hadn’t opened the eye, so I kissed her eye, then kissed her again, telling her she did an excellent job for the first time she had a yang in her mouth. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down, sprawling on Henry who ‘oofffed!” with our combined weight. She kissed me back and fondled my bottom, then said, “That’s alright, I had to learn sometime.” She kissed me again, in of appreciation for what she was learning, I think.
“Come,” she said, “I’ve had a high ending, so has Henry, but not you. Let me pleasure you as you did me.”
I had to smile and lay down, allowing her an unencumbered access to my body.
“Hey! What about me?” Henry asked in a rather half drowsy voice.
“You can lay back and watch, Henry,” Irene replied, “then we shall see.”
“Yes, get your breath back and then you can have me too,” I said, “If you’re up to it.” I wasn’t sure that this was what Irene alluded too, but I wanted that yang in me, now that I had seen it, had it in my mouth. She didn’t say anything, and gave me what I thought was a hungry look.
Irene kissed me, fondling my breast. For someone so recently introduced to the idea of sapphic love, she was really taking it to heart- just like her mother. Her hand snaked down over my torso and into the fine bush of hair at the top of my yin. I felt her fingers explore my bi, then insert themselves into me. This was nice. Irene shifted, began suckling my breast, then slid down and in moments, her mouth was covering me. Her tongue slipped over my pleasure centers, and for a first time lover of women, she was performing well. She had paid a lot of attention to what I had done to her, a fast learner.
I looked over to Henry and he was watching us, his yang already recovering. I motioned him to come closer, when he did, I took hold of his dick and began to caress it. It wasn’t long before it was a lot more hard and the gentle ooohs and aahhs of pleasure escaped his lips.
The pleasure Irene was giving me was very nice, but I wanted more. Letting go of Henry, to his disappointment, I pulled Irene up my body then told her what I wanted to do. She couldn’t have been more eager to try this new, to her, idea, and neither could Henry.
I lay on my back, on the bed, with Irene’s knees either side of my head. Henry was mounting her, from behind and I had her tongue in my bi, watching Henry’s now engorged stalk pumping inside Irene. I was able to use my mouth on both Henry’s man balls and my tongue on Irene’s bi. Every so often, I would ask Henry to disengage from Irene and use my mouth as he would her yin. This continued for a long while, Henry wasn’t anywhere near another discharge, but Irene’s constant tonguing of my bi was increasingly exciting. Before she got too close, I asked to swap our positions. I wanted that yang in me.
I had Irene lay on her back, three pillows under her buttocks. I knelt between her thighs, lowering my mouth onto her raised yin, exposing myself to Henry, an invitation of which he took full advantage. This was the first live, hot pestle that I had inside me since coming to this distant post of Empire, and it felt good. Long and hard it filled me while I was able to lap at the yin that this stalk was meant to fill. I have no intention of taking Henry for my own, the scandal would be too great, none of us would ever live it down. That said, however, access to that manhood on a regular basis would be nice.
Oh how he filled me, and given that Irene’s yin was pure before her wedding night, I am not surprised she is still finding difficulty in accepting into her body. After tonight though, it will get better for her. I buried my face into her yin, wiping my tongue all over her, lapping at those fresh juices. It wasn’t long before she began to moan and groan as she approached a second high ending. She began to quiver, her legs trembled, I could feel the muscles of her inner thighs starting to shake. In the mean time, I could feel Henry’s pestle delving the depths of my secret channel, pleasuring me in a way I hadn’t been since leaving Hong Kong.
Irene’s cries of pleasure grew more insistent then her dam broke, she shook and squeezed my head between her thighs. I kept my tongue pressing and lapping at her bi, giving her as much pleasure as I could. All too soon, Irene fell back onto the bed like a dishrag, collapsing in the afterglow of a high ending that would have been as pleasurable as it sounded. Henry’s shaft delved deeply into me, providing me with that feeling of fulfillment that always comes when I am engaging in ta de ma, but there would be no moment of pleasure for me, not like this.
I kept tonguing her bi, suckling her yin, as she lay under my mouth. I could now concentrate on Henry’ yangu in me. The pleasure of his prong sliding in and out of me was growing. Long and thick, Henry’s pestle filled me, touching that spot at the end of my holy tunnel, sending thrills through me. I reached under me and fingered my yin, caressing that little button that provides me with so much pleasure, adding to the excitement his prong was providing.
I heard the slaps of his thighs on the cheeks of my behind, his moans of pleasure and effort mingling with mine to provide the music of an ageless dance. Higher and higher my body went until I could contain that feeling any longer. Henry’s yangu penetrating my yin and fingers caressing my bi. Release came as it shook me, exploding from my core.
Henry kept pumping himself into me, even after I had announce my high ending, and then he too, he pulsed inside me. His shaft felt so slippery as it thrust in and out of me. He didn’t stop, he kept pumping grunting loudly every time he pulsed, filling my love tunnel with his juice! Slowly, Henry stopped, then fell off me, I mean he fell off, exhausted. I had nothing in me to move, but Irene moved.
I felt her scuttling around me and when I cared to look, she had Henry’s yangu in her mouth, cleaning our combined juices off him. A few moments later, I felt her touch mu bottom, easing me on my side. This put me on the edge of the bed, so I rolled toward her, putting myself more to the center. She didn’t mind at all as she allowed me to roll under her. She kissed me, deeply, and said, “Thank you, this has been wonderful.”
I shook my head and replied, “No, no need to thank me for doing what should be natural.”
“But this is the first time he hasn’t hurt me when we have ta de ma’ed.”
“Good, then you have both learned something,” I said, “But just remember that if you want to enjoy this for many, many years to come, then you must play bed sports as frequently as you can.” Irene looked puzzled, “Why is a conversation for a future time, I would suggest,” I continued.
The evening, as pleasant as it was, was over. Having deep drainage and a gas fired water heater, I drew a bath and allowed my guests to share it while I washed them both. I must admit to paying particular attention to Henry’s organ, which looked like it wanted a third round, but I told him to wait until he got home. I was sure that if Irene was up to it, she wouldn’t mind another coupling.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12hbp6k/grandmothers_diaries_pt_4_april_to_july_1896_fmf