The Vicar's girl

was beginning to believe that all was a dream and that by no stretch of the imagination could he ever have seen his voluptuous Mama with her drawers off as well and his cousin's prick between her bottom cheeks.

Even so, he idly groped-groped a hand that grew ever greedier and to Mabel's mingled dismay and excitement touched her own fingers as they roamed the rolling hemispheres that Vanessa now betrayed to Hugh's searching eyes.

'Both of you, yes!' came Vanessa's cry. 'Play with my cunny, Hugh, while Mabel tickles up my bottomhole-oh yes!'

A greater fervour seizing her, Vanessa blindly sought both their hands and placed them where she wanted them while Hugh already felt a renewed tingling in the sperm-smeared head of his knob. That which he found was furry, plump and had two rolled lips into which his finger amateurishly slipped. Her lessons well learned from Mary, Vanessa thereupon forced apart the gap in Mabel's drawers the more and brought her quim to rub against the girl's.

Mabel moaned in delight. Her lips opened more to accept Vanessa's passionate kisses. Encouraged by the lifting motions of Vanessa's hands under her thighs, she ringed the young woman's waist with her crossed calves and heaved and squirmed and sobbed until delicious, creamy rivulets coursed from both their cunts while Hugh- ignored and almost bereft-could do naught in his naivete other than fondle and kiss Vanessa's heaving bottom cheeks as well as he could.

'How long have we been here? Oh, my goodness-the others-they will wonder where we are', came Mabel's soft, satisfied murmur long moments later.

'Perhaps, yes', Vanessa replied thoughtfully while Hugh still sat like one at a party who is not sure whether he has been invited or not.

Thereupon all restored order while Hugh cast lingering glances at both their shapely legs before they were duly covered.

'Really, I have never done such a thing before', Mabel said suddenly and could scarce look her cousin in the eyes.

'Then more's the pity that you have not, my pets, but you are ready to again, at the least. As to you, Hugh, you will not berate nor embarrass your Mama, I trust, for the dear lady was only doing what we all wish to. No, on reflection, I am sure you would be too timid to mention it, the which is a pity, for you must not be too backward in addressing yourselves to ladies. Indeed you might be a comfort to her yourself, did you but know it. But come', went on Vanessa before the pair could find reply to her bold proclamation, 'we must not dally, as you said. The scenes of pleasure will be over in the house by now, though even so we should tread carefully and not allow ourselves to be seen'.

'Shall you call on us, perhaps?' Mabel asked timidly, for very much like Vanessa-though she could not have guessed it-a whole new world had opened up to her.

'I may. Yes, I believe I will. I will leave my carte de visile in a day or two at least', Vanessa replied with caution, for she had other things, too, on her mind. Reggie had already confessed to her the Vicar's intentions in respect of other young ladies and had even had forced from him by both his sister and Mary the role that he was intended to play therein.

'You will do nothing save what I intend you to, Reginald', Vanessa had said with such hauteur as befitted the times when he was being berated or taught a further lesson. 'You may, of course, be accorded certain benefits. As to that we shall have to see', she had concluded. Her affair with the Vicar was not yet finished, she had decided, for-taking a feather from her brother's cap, as it were-it had occurred to her that such girls as the Rev. Jubstone might lure into his private sanctum would be of as much use to her as to himself.

But at the least now, Vanessa had taken her second most important step in her new life by commencing the induction of two young people who would now come under her wing if she wished them to. Hence Vanessa privately decided, upon taking her farewell of Mabel and Hugh, to indeed make a call and therewith the closer acquaintance of the latter's lubricious Mama, who, she had good cause to consider, was less discreet than herself.

As for Hugh, he had great cause now to scowl at his cousins and wished to, but made as much effort as he could to put on a good front. Margaret herself, being in a slight state of conscience at the way she had had to manoeuvre events, observed her son's unease and wondered what could have brought it about, for he was wont normally to lark and tumble with Frank and George.

Thus it was that with naught but motherly care, as she told herself, Margaret decided to make as silent as possible a visit to Hugh's room that night in order to extract from him what was wrong-if anything other than a moodiness of youth. That she might have done so fully dressed did not seem to occur to her. Attired solely in a crimson nightdress of silk, edged with white lace, she entered his bedroom and found him lying upon his bed in his nightshirt in quite a dreamlike state from the events of the day.

The maternal and yet voluptuous vision that thus appeared almost silently before him in the gloom served rather to excite his thoughts than otherwise as Margaret seated herself on the side of the bed and asked him what ailed him.

'Nothing-nothing at all, Mama', answered Hugh petulantly while his eyes did not fail to observe the thick and promising nipples that indented the silk which also flowed revealingly about her thighs and hips. Her tits wobbled heavily, complementing the weight of her full bottom of which Hugh had already seen more than he ever dreamed he would.

'Why, there must be something you have to tell your Mama', Margaret soothed, subsiding beside him and raising her legs so that they lay alongside and in utterly disturbing nearness to his own.

'Really, Mama…', Hugh began for in one way he wished to be left alone with his stirring visions of what had passed, though equally the warm bulging of her breasts to his arm stirred him as well. Knowing not which way to turn, he finally uttered what seemed to Margaret a doleful murmur and, rolling on his hip, cuddled into her much as he had done when little.

'Tell Mama', urged Margaret who then to her immense

surprise (or so she would have avowed) experienced the straining of her son's stiff penis against her belly, the knob being distinctly felt against her skin through the flimsy attire of the pair.

'Nothing', muttered Hugh again, though more shamefacedly, for a slight movement of his balls had caused them to swing for a moment and make the most moving of additional contacts against the thick brush of her mount whose curls burred through the silk.

'There must be something', Margaret uttered rather chok-ily. Being aware that she should draw her form back, she yet failed to do so and fell into an even greater laxity of posture from which she told herself she ought to stir. Second by second Hugh's cock seemed to grow even stiffer, impinging its length and heat into her flesh.

'Dunno', came her son's muffled murmur, for that which he wished to tell her he dare not, and that which he could not dare frustrated him the more. Throwing his upper arm impetuously around her waist, he rubbed himself pupplike against her, causing Margaret a great confusion of sensations for his weapon was gliding up and down her belly with a message that needed no translation.

'Hugh-IE!' uttered she, though it was little but a whimper and one that persuaded her son that her desires in that moment were no less than his own.

'Ma-ma!' responded Hugh in a tone that was at once wheedling, passionate and petulant. His hands clasped the rearing cheeks of her bottom which he could feel so exciting full through the silk. His fingers dug into the resilient half-moons, causing her nightgown to ruck up until his risen prick urged against her naked thigh.

Swimmy with desire and yet telling herself to stop, Margaret defensively slid her hand between their bodies and clasped his rigid weapon, causing Hugh to groan with delight and to attempt to rub it in her palm.

'No, Hughie, no, darling, this must stop!'

'Mama, please, let me kiss it!'

'Kiss what, kiss what?' asked Margaret chokily while endeavouring to use all her will-power not to fondle his throb-ber.

'Please, your thing-you know-in between…'

'Hughie, no! Oh my goodness! Remember who I am! Such things can never be!' cried his Mama who seemed momentarily to forget what she herself was so firmly grasping. Whether it was a fear of some untoward interruption that would find her in an even more guilty condition than were she sporting with her nephews, or whether she was actually resisting her own desires, she was not sure. Betwixt the two thoughts, she unleashed her fingers from around her son's very promising pego and rolled quickly off the bed to flounder to the door with her nightdress