"Nay, Mr. Clarence, that must not be. If you do not mind, you can ride behind me. The pony can bear us both very well, and we can proceed slowly." "I am afraid to discommode you, Miss Percival." "Not at all--our ancestors, you know, used to ride pillion." "I accept your kind offer," he returned, and springing on the pony's back took his place behind me. He passed one arm around my waist for the purpose of holding himself securely in his position. We then slowly started in the direction of the lodge. We had not advanced a mile, however, before I felt something pressing stiffly against my bottom. My previous experience made me know what it was and you may easily believe, dear reader, that I began to feel a strange sensation running through me. Whether my companion detected my sensations or not, I cannot say, but certain it is that the arm that encircled my waist was raised until his hand rested on my bosom, outside my riding habit; however, I made no attempt to remove it, and encouraged, doubtless, by my seeming tacit consent to his enterprises, he furtively inserted two of his fingers in the opening in front of my dress and I felt them on my naked breast. The contact of my bubbies appeared to electrify him, for I felt his staff of love beating against my buttocks, still more plainly than before. "Mr. Clarence," said I, "this is wrong--remember you have a wife." "My darling girl," he replied, "I cannot help it. I am deeply enamored with you. My wife is sick and unable to receive my embraces. Dearest Kate, be kind to me. I swear I will not injure you." What could an amorous, love-sick girl reply? I was too fond of sexual pleasures to refuse them when time and opportunity offered. T made no reply whatever. My silence evidently encouraged him, for he now unbuttoned the front of my habit and placed his hand on my naked breasts, molding them and titillating the strawberry nipples. With his other hand he managed to raise my petticoats from behind, and I felt myself sitting bare-bottomed on his lap. This was not all, for between my fleshy thighs was his instrument, which he had managed to disengage from his pantaloons. He now raised me up slightly and in another moment his hand invaded my mossy crevice. No sooner did his fingers come in contact with the hair surrounding the domain of Venus than all reserve left him and, inclining me slightly forward, he directed his instrument and in a moment forced it into my moist and burning passage, and drove it home with a sudden plunge.