Father died and left us deep in debt, Mothers choice in 1890 London, Debtors Prison or marrying Mr Honeywell, she might have made the wrong decision.
My Mother married Mr Honeywell two months after my Father died, she didn’t want to but in 1890 London she had three choices , pay the money my Father owed Mr Honeywell , go to Debtors Prison or marry him. Her choice was very simple ,she married this horrible man and we moved into Mr Honeywells big house overlooking the village green on the day of their marriage .
I was 14 at the time,and I had said a total of four words to Mr.Honeywell in my life,which were “Good evening Mister Honeywell” on the first night he came to our house ” to talk” to my Mother. before my Mother sent me to my room.
He turned up at our house several times during the next couple of weeks , every time he did my Mother would send me to my room no matter what time it was, and I would hear them talking. He even took my Mother out for dinner one evening and when they came back my Mother once again sent me to my room.
That night I laid there listening to them talking,and although I could not hear most of what they were saying, several times I could here my Mother weeping, and begging Mr Honeywell for what I didn’t know.
I hated Mr Honeywell from that moment on, he was making my Mother cry and when I heard my Mother say ” please don’t make me do that ” I crept out of bed went down the stairs , along the hallway to the dark kitchen.
The door was half open but I could not hear any talking coming from the parlour,,maybe Mr Honeywell had left , but I was scared to look around the door incase my Mother or Mr Honeywell were looking in my direction. I heard Mr Honeywells voice, he was talking softly and said something like ” that’s nice” and eventually I plucked up the courage to count to ten, then peeked around the corner of the door.
Mr Honeywell was sitting near the fire, my Mother was on here knees between his open legs and she had her head in his lap going up and down with her mouth on his cock . I stepped back into the kitchen, my body shaking, and I found myself touching my cunny through my nightdress.
Some of the boys at school when they were being rude used to ask us girls to “prick eat ” them ,which meant suck the baby making stuff out of there cocks.
My friend Victoria used to do it to some of the boys for money on her way home from school, in the gardeners shed of an empty house that we went passed each day. The boys would save there pocket money and give it to Victoria and she would meet them in the shed and do it.
One day it was raining hard ,so I went in with her,I didn’t want to but it was better than standing in the rain waiting for her . A boy called David was already in there waiting , he gave her a few half pennies and she told him to sit on the bench the gardener would have used for potting the plants. She unbuttoned his trousers, pulled his cock out from his underwear, spat on it and wiped it with her hankie, and then started sucking it.
I didn’t really want to watch but the noise he was making made me watch, and it wasn’t long before he started saying saying aagghh ,aaaaggghhh out loud and he finished in her mouth. She came over to where I was standing and opened her mouth it was full of the boys stuff and she laughed and swallowed it, laughed again and said come on lets go.
Now I was watching the very same thing that Victoria did to the boys, but instead of Victoria doing it my own Mother doing it to Mr Honeywell . It never crossed my mind my own Mother ever knew there was such a thing as prick eating, let alone that she would do such a thing.
Suddenly Mr Honeywell started to groan, “suck bitch, suck, suck, suck”, he said grabbing my Mother’s hair. He was pulling her mouth onto his penis, my Mother was trying to push him off but she was nowhere near strong enough to escape the baby making stuff being squirted into her mouth, and when he let her go she got up and started running towards the kitchen .
I literally had just got around the door into the hallway when I heard her spitting into the sink, I could see her running the faucet and drinking from the tap before she spat the water out .As soon as she left the kitchen I crept upstairs and got into bed.
I laid there for a while but I could not get the sight of my Mother sucking Mr Honeywells cock out of my mind, and I could not stop touching my cunny just thinking about it.I found myself putting two fingers in my mouth and pretending it was a cock, then suddenly as I rubbed my little button I had this strange exciting feeling which made me want to rub my button harder and harder until something happened, I had my first orgasim .
I had my legs open wide my fingers were rubbing my little button real hard and I was shaking my head from side to side on my pillow and making noises I had never made before, and it sounded so loud I thought the whole world would hear me .
I laid there shaking,I had never felt like this in my 14 years of life, I had played with my cunny before but always stopped before I climaxed, because I was scared with how It would feel and if it would hurt me. But that night it was the most wonderful feeling ever, and when I woke up the next morning I did it again before getting up and going to wash and go to school.
A few days later my Mother sat me down to announce that she was going to marry Mr.Honeywell, and we would be moving into his big house overlooking the village green , and how nice that would be. I was stunned,it was only a few weeks after my dear Father had passed and I said to her” you don’t look very happy, and isn’t this a bit quick “?.
I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, your Father was a wonderful man Elizabeth she said softly, he was a wonderful Father to you and a wonderful husband to me, but a very poor businessman. He borrowed substantial amounts of money to try and save his failing business, and there is nothing left, the house is mortgaged to the hilt and basically I have two choices, Marry Mr Honeywell, or go to debtors prison, and although I am not very excited about my marriage, the thoughts of going to Holloway Prison for 5 years I find even more distasteful.
The marriage was a small affair, Mother invited a few of her friends, but it seemed that Mr Honeywell had even fewer friends than Mother , his 18 year old son was his best man and my Uncle James gave Mother away .
After the service we went back to my new home for the reception, we all had dinner, a few toasts were given,Mother tried to smile as often as she could and both Mr Honeywell and his son drank heavily.
As the guests were leaving it was obvious that just about all of Mr Honeywells guests were fairly drunk, and I could hear some of them making jokes about him sleeping with my Mother and there was lots of back slapping and crude remarks being made and they were all being made about my Mother., so after everyone had left I wanted to stay out of the way, and I went back to the bedroom I had been assigned and laid on my bed .
My Mothers bedroom was next to mine, Mr Honeywells was across the landing from my room and his sons was next to his. I laid on my bed in the darkness and then heard a knock on my Mother’s door. I heard the door open and Mr Honeywells drunk slurring speech say are you ready, but I never heard a reply, only the door closing and Mr Honeywell saying I have been waiting for this for weeks, as him and my Mother crossed the landing to his bedroom.
The bedroom door closed and within a couple of minutes I could hear my Mother squealing, she was making noises that sounded like she was in pain and not the sounds of love making one would expect from the honeymoon bedroom.
It wasn’t long before I heard Mr.Honeywells door slam shut again, and my Mothers door open and close. I laid in my bed listening to my Mother weeping then I decided to go and visit my Mother.
Tapping on her door she softly said come in, she was sitting on the edge of her bed crying and I sat down next to her and cuddled her.
Did you hear she said softly, and I could feel myself blushing. Yes I said, was it bad. She tried to smile and she gave a little laugh, maybe debtors prison would not have been so bad after all she said smiling at me as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
I am sure your now old enough to know what a man and woman do in bed, and I laughed and said Mother I am almost 15 years old, you got married to my Father when you were 15 , of course I do, and we both kind of giggled ,more in embarrassment than in anything .
Well honey she said my new drunk husband took me into his bedroom, told me to get on the bed, pulled my nightdress up until it covered my face grabbed my breast, pulled my nipple, said open your legs ,got on me pushed his thing in me, laughed and told me to shut up when I said he was hurting me because I was dry down there,but he ignored me,pushed it deep in me then he finished, got off me and told me to go back to my bedroom. She gave me a weak smile and cuddled me ,wonderful honeymoon she said trying not to cry again and I cuddled her real tight and told her not to worry everything would be alright, how wrong I could be.
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