remember that there are other fish in the sea and other pricks in the pool.' At the thought of never again being able to slip my member into her wonderfully welcoming cunney, I made a mental vow to be utterly silent on the matter. 'But now,' she said, 'let us seal our sworn agreement with a quick fuck. I hope that you have recovered from the rigours of the casting couch.' With that, she knelt before me and unbuttoned me. Mr. Pego eagerly leaped out from his hiding place.
Cupping my balls in her hand, without more ado she took the whole length of my staff in her mouth. Her tongue played lightly at the swollen head of my prick as she gently but insistently squeezed my throbbing balls. Her lips sucked hungrily up and down my staff. Then she pulled back. 'You are ready,' she said. 'I can taste the oil still on your prick. Madame has been using the orange-flavoured ointment that we have sent over from France. It is quite my favourite flavour.' 'So this is a regular part of the service,' I asked.
'Of course,' she said. 'It would be most unkind to leave our customers unsatisfied, when they have so kindly donated their likeness to posterity.' 'Now you must taste me. Meg helped anoint me with another citrus flavour.' 'Oranges and lemons?' I said. 'That is for you to find out,' she said, lifting her smock. Although I had by now enjoyed her ever-generous quim many, many times, I was still quite carried away at the prospect that opened up before me. As she lay back on the carpet, I parted her thighs and in an instant was lapping at her cave of delights. My tongue slipped deep inside her, I could feel her clit swell against me as I probed ever further. There was indeed a refreshing tang to her. Lemon combined with her own natural juices. Truly here was a recipe for ecstasy. My lips sucked hungrily at hers, which seemed in turn to suck back. With a soft moan of pleasure, she parted her legs yet further, forcing her splendid bush into my face. 'Andrew,' she said urgently, 'I need to feel you inside me.' I drew back and without pause thrust my prick straight into her. She whimpered, closed her legs a little to hold me tight and began that rapid rippling contraction of her muscles that I knew so well. This was to be no slow, lingering fuck. We were both urgent in our need to spend ourselves. As I thrust into her again and again, she rose to meet me with equal vigour. Great gasps shuddered through our bodies. 'Andrew, Andrew,' she cried out, 'I am coming.
Come with me.' I needed no urging. Already I could feel that first gush of my spending forcing its way along my huge member. One wave followed another as my cum jetted out into her. Her own juices were flowing liberally in response. She seized tight hold of me and we fucked and fucked quite uncontrollably, writhing and twisting on the carpet. All too soon we were both drained. We lay entwined, exhausted, sucking in great gulps of air. Neither could speak so overcome were we. She smiled up at me and puckered up her lips in a little kiss.
Still inside her, I felt her relax. As we shared our fatigue for a few moments longer I saw the flush that had suffused her whole body begin to subside. At that moment there came a soft knocking on the door. 'Who is it?' Hannah said sleepily. 'Meg,' came the whispered reply. 'May I come in?' I looked questioningly at Hannah. 'Hadn't we better make ourselves decent?' 'There is no need,' she said. 'Come in Meg,' she called out. Then to me she said: 'It is not the first time, nor indeed the twentieth, that I have been discovered in this position. Meg is a good friend of mine. I know what it is that she wants.' The door opened and there entered the lovely little creature who had first welcomed me into Madame's salon.
'Meg, this is Andrew. I know that you have already met,' said Hannah. 'Pray, Sir, do not get up,' said our visitor. 'I know that it has been a tiring day.' Remembering the events that had taken place when Meg and I had first met, to be followed so soon by the efforts that had attended the making of my plaster cast, I could not disagree. None the less, good manners dictated that I withdrew from Hannah's still welcoming cunt. As I half rose, Meg looked down at my no longer rigid but still swollen prick. 'You are so lucky, Hannah,' she said. 'Is that not a most magnificent instrument of Mister Andrew's? I had earlier offered my services but of course, until he had been modelled, I could not accept him.' 'Meg,' said Hannah. 'I know from repeated experience that he will be capable of rising to the occasion again in a little while. In the meantime, you and the others are more than welcome to come in and enjoy your after-work sampling of our wares.' 'What is this?' I asked.
'I think you already know, Andrew, that the employees are allowed, indeed encouraged to make use of our finished models before they are made ready for dispatch or collection. Two purposes are served. It is not reasonable to expect the staff to spend all our working hours in the creation of so fine an array of dildoes without our being able to relieve the tensions of the day by experiencing the pleasures of our handiwork. There is also the point that, however dedicated and skilled our efforts, it may be that an imperfection or two slips through. Finally, they must be delivered ready for use. Tell me Andrew, did you not play cricket when at school?' 'Of course,'
I answered, not fully understanding what she meant. 'And were you not taught that a cricket bat must be regularly oiled if you wish it to be kept in tip top condition. Linseed oil, is it not?' 'Why, yes,' I answered, understanding beginning to dawn. 'Well here we use the natural oils that are most appropriate to our product.'
As she explained this, the door opened fully and in trooped all the girls that I had earlier seen engrossed in their labours at the wheel and the painting and woodworking benches. 'Good evening, Sir,' they said brightly, one after another. For a moment embarrassment coursed through me. Hannah was still lying in an abandoned position on the carpet, carelessly revealing all her intimate parts, while I was kneeling before her with my prick hanging loose from my undergarments. However all our visitors behaved as though the sight spread out before them was the most natural thing in the world. Paying me scant attention, they hurried over to the display and one by one began to pick up the samples. There was a sudden outburst of chatter as they fell upon them, inspected them and fondled them. 'Oh please, Polly, let me try that one. I spent many long hours adding the finishing touches to it. Mr. Arbuthnot, is it not?'
'Then I must have that one. As soon as I saw it emerge from the mould I knew that I would have to sample such a tremendous thing.'
'A Member of Parliament, if I recall,' said a third. 'From one of the West Country constituencies.' 'Oooh, Harriet!' exclaimed another. 'The Rural Dean of Cleethorpes. I was amazed to see what a Man of the Cloth could have concealed beneath his clerical garb.'
'But there are three or four identical ones here,' said a slender little redhead. 'A military gentleman, posted abroad to Egypt. I understand that he is to take part in an expedition against the Mahdi in the Southern Sudan. Since he will be risking life and limb, he thought it would be prudent to leave a keepsake behind for his wife,' said Hannah. 'But four keepsakes?' I asked. 'Surely they do not wear out?' 'Well in fact,' said Hannah, 'shortly after he had paid us a visit, both the parlour maid and the cook asked, in all confidence, if they too might have copies.' 'To be followed shortly,' interposed Harriet, 'by the arrival of a message from Lady X-ordering another for herself.' 'He will be leaving a gap in several lives when he embarks for the wars,' I said. 'We were indeed a little surprised,' said Hannah, 'since in our experience, military men do not always live up to their boasts or the expectations of the ladies. They may strut and brag at their clubs and in the mess, but it seems that all too often they cannot match their words with their deeds.' 'We suspect that the tightness of their uniforms may have something to do with the matter,' said yet another of the eager workers. 'Cavalry officers are the most disappointing,' said another. 'I was most surprised, for in my experience, riding greatly stimulates the muscles.' 'That is because you do not ride side saddle as is the custom in this country,' said Hannah. 'Deirdre is from Limerick. It seems that over there women sometimes ride to hounds in a most unladylike fashion.' 'If you had once felt a well-conditioned stallion moving between your thighs,' said Deirdre, 'You would never again settle for the unnatural decorum of the position polite society decrees for the fair sex. There is nothing like a good gallop over rough country, followed by a good fuck while the blood is still flowing.' 'I have found that after a ride, I become quite sore and stiff,' said Harriet. 'That is because you wait too long. You must dismount and remount almost at once. You have no idea how exciting it is to have a vigorous tumble in the hay with a man still hot from his exertions. How I wish, sometimes, that I was back in Ireland.' 'But do you not fuck in bed in your home country?' I asked. 'Don't be so pretentious,' said Hannah.
'We fuck in bed, in the stables, out on the sweet green grass, even sometimes on the stairs,' said Deirdre. 'I have even done it in a fishing boat and whilst riding in a gig. Although there was a certain danger on that occasion.' 'What happened?' I asked. 'The pony bolted,' said Deirdre. 'We were so taken up in our exercise that we did not notice until too late. We went careering through the village street with people jumping frantically out of the way. We completely upset the local carter, totally scandalised the priest and I finally came just as we crashed into a stout blackthorn hedge.'
'You are sure that you are not indulging in that well-known Irish gift for telling tall stories?' I said. 'Look at you, kneeling there with such a solemn face on you, behaving like a Sunday School teacher, accusing me of telling tall tales. And all the time, you with your Thing hanging out like a lamb's tail at shearing time,' said Deirdre in most animated fashion. 'If we are talking of displays,' said another, Polly I believe it was, 'I suggest that Deirdre shows you some evidence of her open-air escapades.' 'That I will,' said Deirdre. She flounced round and whipped up her skirt.
