why, did I agree to this terrible thing? I wish I had never entered into this terrible agreement with your master. If I were free now, I would go and wrench from those degenerates the poor innocent girl whom I know from her screams and appeals is undergoing the tortures of hell at these miscreants' hands. Give me that key and allow me to go and I will grant you anything you wish.”
“I wish I could,” said Marie, rolling her eyes and sighing as though she were perfectly in accord with the young man's intentions. “But to be frank with you, Mr. Trant, the master is a terrible man and once he knew I was the means of assisting you in your freedom, I doubt if my life would long be mine.
“Much as I appreciate your feelings, I must consider myself first; and as far as your being remorseful over what is occurring, consider for a moment my own feelings. My lawfully wedded husband is there. Imagine that, my dear sir, if you can. My lawfully wedded husband is in there-in there with your wife-raping her, fucking her-the same as his lordship, whom you attach so much blame to. Does that not assuage your feelings a bit, my friend?”
“Two of them are-are-assaulting her?” said Trant somewhat stupidly. “I thought-thought-that-”
“What you think and what they do are two different things,” said the practical Marie.
“There is no use in your going there now as I am sure that all is over and your wife no longer possesses her maidenhead. It is now left for you to make the best of a bad bargain.”
As she finished, she crossed one leg over the other, nonchalantly exposing her well-shaped leg, faultlessly clad in sheer silk, and smiled up at the man in an ingenuous manner. It was in the maid's mind to make the most of the opportunity that was presented to her. She determined to even up the score with her husband by indulging in a little illicit pleasure with the handsome groom who had been deprived of his bride. She had been feeling randy all day, and this would be a pleasant change from what she was accustomed to, for under these circumstances he would never dare to say anything about it.
She saw Trant's eyes fall to her leg and, lying back in the chair, she closed her eyes languorously. Stretching her arms above her head as if tired, she caused her waist to tighten and outline the almost naked form of her matchless breasts.
All this pleasant by-play was not lost on Trant.
His eyes glistened and Marie, through partially closed eyes, saw a sudden bulge appear in his trousers in the neighborhood of his sexual handle.
“I'm so tired,” she laughed, “I could just stretch myself on that bed and go right to sleep.”
Marie feared that either the valet or his lordship might decide to visit their prisoner. In that event she would be lost and so determined to hurry things as much as possible.
“Oh, don't mind me at all,” said Trant. “If you are tired, I beg you to lie down and refresh yourself.” Hurrying to the bed, he smoothed the counterpane he had been lying upon.
Marie surveyed his back with amused tolerance and wondered to herself, What a dolt indeed is this young man! Why does he not take what is so freely offered to him?
But determined to make him approach her, she rose to her feet and, throwing herself on the bed, saw to it that her skirts rode up and displayed her legs above the knee, showing her yellow garters. She lay on her back and, opening her legs slightly, awaited the advances that were sure to come. She knew that Trant must be observing her, and moving about a bit under the pretense of finding a good posture to sleep, she managed to display all of the features of her form to the entranced man.
Sure enough, in an instant he was beside her and she, pretending surprise, opened her eyes and laughed.
She felt him pass his arms around her and her face was pressed to his as he kissed her passionately. She pretended surprise at this also, but fearing that she might frighten him away by an undue show of resistance, she returned his caresses with ardor.
“Why, Mr. Trant,” she murmured when he had allowed her to catch her breath, “what a fellow you are! Here is your wife upstairs giving her maidenhead to my master and my husband and you, far from thinking of her, are only concerned in seeking out your own pleasure. I am indeed much surprised at you, Mr. Trant.”
“Oh, bother her,” cried Trant irritably. His pecker was now a bar of iron in his trousers. “You are far better than she is, my dear, and I love you to distraction.” Drawing her to him again, he kissed her on the eyes, lips, nose, and mouth.
Nor did he stop here. He began to kiss her beautiful shapely neck and after having given it attention on both sides and on the back and front-especially the front-he pulled down her dress a little and partially exposed her splendid bubbies.
“Oh, you are going too far now,” said Marie with a look of pretended horror.
“Not too far, not far enough,” answered Mr. Trant as he looked with gloating eyes upon her delicate flesh.
Again he bent down and, applying his lips to the upper surface of her luscious globes, kissed and sucked them greedily.
“Oh, oh,” was all that Marie could now say with a low moan, more of pleasure than of pain or disgust.
“Oh, how delicious you are,” cried Mr. Trant in an ecstasy. “I believe that you are better than even Grace will be. I remember last year Adeline Smith whom I took out in the woods with me one summer's evening. I thought that she was the most wonderful girl in the world but now that you are here before me I think that you have her beaten by at least a hundred times.”
Saying this, he began to mold her delicate teats through her thin and diaphanous dress. He squeezed them and pushed them gently this way and that. Marie was full of intense feelings. She no longer offered any pretended resistance to Mr. Trant's advances. Growing bolder, Mr. Trant allowed his lewd hands to roam over her delicious person on a much lower plane. He began to paw and nudge her belly here and there, first feeling the navel, then traveling sometimes slowly and sometimes rapidly all around it. Meantime the rod in his trousers grew harder and harder. Then, catching sight again of Marie's yellow garters, Mr. Trant placed one hand on her knee. While he gently tickled this knee, with the other hand he grasped the dress and slowly lifted it, exposing the lower portion of two finely chiseled and silken-clad thighs.
“Oh, you horrid man! How could you?” moaned Marie in a whisper, but at the same time she opened her thighs a little more.
This had the effect of galvanizing Mr. Trant, who was now wrought up to a fearful state.
“I must!” he bellowed. “I must, oh, I must or, or-”
“Oh no, you mustn't,” Marie retorted with as much spirit as she could pretend.
“I must, oh! I must or I shall die,” repeated Mr. Trant, feeling his swollen and bloated member would surely burst through the front of his trousers in its largeness and energy. It thrust itself forward and into the open air with all the fierceness of the thrust of a lance wielded by an infuriated soldier in the heat of battle. It was fiery and red and terribly enlarged-far beyond its usual degree.
“I must, oh! I must or I shall die,” repeated Mr. Trant, furiously roaring like an angry lion. “I must and I will.”
So saying, he threw her skirts up and ripped her silk pink drawers off as if they were tissue paper, exposing in one sweep the beauty and charm of her nakedness.
“Oh, heavens!” cried Marie as she felt her drawers jerked away. “What are you going to do now?”
Before she could say anything further, Mr. Trant had mounted her and presented the fiery red tip of his prong to the palpitating lips of her welcoming quim. With a tweak he had nosed the red head in between the thick succulent lips and the head rested slightly inside the entrance to her quaking vagina.
“Oh, you really should stop this, for you know I am a married woman.”
“Re upon your marriage,” gasped Mr. Trant, while perspiration streamed down his forehead. “I too am married.”
He made a lunge and the head of his penis entered her vagina. Marie closed her eyes and let her head lie back now. Mr. Trant strained again against Marie's tender body and the whole length of his glorious tool slid easily in up to the balls, for Marie was a well-loosened woman, having been serviced by such great fuckers as Lord Roxboro himself, to say nothing of her husband and countless other men.
“Oh, you are really delicious, you are even better than Mrs. Smithson, the preacher's wife,” he gasped.
And not ceasing his labors, he began to strain and push in and out with clocklike regularity. He would go in to the very balls and then out as far as the base of the head and then in again with all the fury of an enraged lunatic. With each lunge Marie gave out a moan of concentrated sensation; with each draw she made a sharp intake of
