of democracy. The moment I walked inside I knew it was a feudal barony. The servants were all subdued, half visible, going about their work with their shoulders pulled up as though they were expecting a blow with a knout at any moment. The marble floors, the objects of art, the ornate ceilings, all told me where my place was. My fingers experienced a desperate urge to tug a forelock.
'Mr. McCanoczek?' A sophisticated woman swept along the marble and fixed me with a haughty look. 'I am Samantha, Mrs. Van de Kut's private secretary. I have been told to tell you to relax for half an hour or so until afternoon tea has been served. Mrs. Van de Kut is entertaining.'
'She might have told me,' I said. 'This will go on her bill, you know.'
'Mrs. Van de Kut will be upset,' said the secretary dryly. 'Come this way, please.' If I could have come that way I'd do nothing else; but I swallowed the little quip and followed her into a room that was less stately and more cozy, but still resembled a baroque ballroom. Samantha pointed at some antique chairs and left me to sit and twiddle my thumbs.
A few minutes later a bright, girlish face appeared around the door. 'Hi!' she said, coming in and closing the door after her. 'What are you doing here? Waiting for my mother?' Was this Van de Kut minor? My eyes travelled over her young body and my mouth watered. She was nineteen, give or take a year, dressed in jeans and riding boots, a scarlet jacket, and in one hand she held a riding crop. Her body was lean, a small ass and slender thighs, but somehow her breasts had developed at their own pace. They pushed out against her T shirt, arrogant and full, big nipples making emphatic dents. She stood in front of me, hands on her hips so that her jacket was pushed out of the way of her tits. I got the impression that she was using her splendid tits to break the ice between us.
'My name is Joe,' I said, after swallowing deeply. What was it with me, anyway. My cock was hard, my breathing seemed inadequate to keep up with my body's demands, all because a young girl came close. Was it the aftereffects of the grass? 'What's your name?'
'Martha,' she said pertly. She sat down beside me and peered into my eyes. 'Do you have a hangover or have you been smoking?' I tried to deny both, but she just gave me a mocking smile. 'Your eyes are too bloodshot, it must have been grass. Do you have any with you?'
'No, sorry, all gone.'
'What a pity. I'm so bored!' She crossed her legs and leaned against me. 'Nothing ever happens in this house. My father's always away and Mother's always entertaining. I wish I could go to boarding school like my sister. But they won't even let me do that… and you know why?' She lowered her voice and looked around before answering her own question. 'Because they say I'm a bad girl!'
Now she had my full attention. 'Bad in what way?' I asked.
'Do you want to find out?' When I nodded she beckoned for me to follow her out of the house. The French windows led into the gardens, and at the back of them stood a gazebo that was surrounded by trellises bearing a heavy load of vines in flower. Martha checked to see if we'd been spotted, and when she was satisfied that the gardeners were minding their own business, she went inside and closed the door after us. 'You know what I like to do?' she asked, looking impish. 'Try to guess.'
I didn't know what to say. There were many vices that I wanted her to have at that point but none of them seemed to fit in with that blonde, innocent-eyed, angel face. She was extremely attractive, all the more so because she was sitting in the dimness of the gazebo just where a beam of sunlight could highlight her face. Now her eyes looked almost colorless, glowing with light, and her cherub's mouth looked fuller and redder than before. The shading also did wonders for her breasts. She took off that scarlet riding jacket while waiting for my answer, and for a moment it seemed as though her nipples were going to poke holes in her T-shirt.
'You like to blow men?' I asked in a fit of recklessness.
'How did you know! Did someone tell you about me? I bet they did. Men are such gossips.' She pouted unhappily.
'No, no one said a word,' I assured her. 'I just thought of what I would most like you to do, and that was it.'
'You like to get blown?' Her tongue ran along her lips and she came a little closer. 'I do love to do it Mother said I should remain a virgin till I'm married, but she said nothing about my mouth. Can I do it to you, Joe? I love the feel of cock between my lips, always have. Perhaps I wasn't properly weaned.' She laughed shortly at her own joke but then the time for levity was over. Her hands strayed over to my lap where my cock formed a thick ridge of flesh that bulged up under the material of my pants. Briefly I wondered if this was worth risking a good job for. Of course it was. Her face closed in on my lap and her long blond hair fell over her face to make a little tent in which she could work in private. Now nimble fingers were opening my fly. I sat back and marveled at my good luck. She had my cock out and was nibbling at it in the confines of her blondness, hidden from my view but making me very aware of her presence. In my mind I could see those full lips circling about my glands as vividly as I could feel them.
But I wasn't content to just sit there. I wanted to find out what the rest of her was like, especially those outsized tits. While she sucked my cock I rolled her T shirt up until it was bunched about just below her shoulders. Even in that position her tits kept their shape, two full orbs that fitted into my palms perfectly. Her nipples were bigger than before and hard as rubber bullets. Squeezing them was pure joy-but what about the rest of her? Those lean buns intrigued me, and I wanted to see how blond her pussy would be. Martha made no attempt to stop me when I reached down to undo her jeans. It was an awkward business to take off her clothes without disturbing her delicious sucking. In the end she had to take a break to help me out.
'You want to do it to me?' she asked, taking off her T-shirt and then stepping out of her jeans. 'Do men do that to girls, or are girls the only ones who eat?'
'No, anyone can eat,' I said. My hands came to rest on her hips and I drew her toward me to illustrate my point. Martha grew shy for a moment when I ran a finger down the length of her pussy. She blushed and tried to draw away from me. But I held her tightly and kept caressing her cunt until she understood what it was for. There was a small table behind her. I made her sit on the edge of it and got down on my knees in front of her to pay closer attention to her cunt. It was a gem, a teenage marvel. Her pubic hair was sparse and golden, and it grew down the sides of her pudgy little labia, to peter away before it reached her asshole. Her pussy lips were slightly open and admitted a glimpse of the pink flesh inside. My finger titillated her tiny clitoris for a moment before sliding down deep between her lips. It pressed against that peculiarly convoluted area to have it yield easily, gladly. Her flesh parted now to let the rest of my finger slip inside her. Martha was still uncomfortable but she was also very interested.
'How does that feel?' I asked her, pushing my finger in and out of her moist pussy.
'Very nice,' she said, 'but my mother said I shouldn't let any man do that to me.'
'She's not here to see you, is she?' Martha nodded. That made sense to her, and she relaxed more, giving in to the sensations my fucking finger produced in her. My face came closer and closer, my tongue poked out and there I was, for the second time that day, eating cunt. But how fresh and firm this one was compared to Peggy's! Her juices tasted different, not very sapid, but the fact that they were virginal made all my taste buds stand up and take notice. I took my finger out of her cunt and put my tongue up there instead to suck down more of her nectar. So subtle, so sweet, thick drops of dew slithering down my tongue and right down my throat. Martha leaned back and her sighs were heartfelt. I took her whole cunt into my mouth and sucked as hard as I could, then released it and pursed my lips around her hard little clit. She had forgotten about cocksucking, all she wanted now was to be eaten into oblivion. That was a shame. My cock stood up in the air, quivering with impatience. Should I fuck her? It would be lovely to stick my dick into that channel of tightly packed flesh, to stir up more of her virgin's fluids and to see her initiation into the wonderful world of sex.
'Do you want to do it?' I asked her, looking up from her pussy for a moment. Martha was on her back on the table, her legs hanging over the edge limply. She shook her head but both her hands came down to her pussy and held it open for me. What did that mean? I decided to interpret her gesture freely. With one quick motion I was on my feet and my cock pressed into her cunt. My glands was almost inside her when she realized what was happening.
'No!' she cried, sliding back on the table and throwing one leg over the other for extra protection. 'I told you not to do that to me! You can do anything else but not that.' She got off the table and stood in front of me, close, her hand touching my ravening erection. 'Besides, don't you like what I do for you? Isn't that enough?'
'I guess so,' I said, but deep down I was disappointed. The knell of her teenage pussy still echoed through me. She was so deliciously tight, so young, so fresh, and if I didn't fuck her someone else would. I wanted to throw
