sight such as might have raised the cock of an archbishop. Her cunny was well furred for her age, the dark curls massing in the crispest of triangles about it. Her hips had the fullness of young womanhood, her thighs were plump without merging into fatness, and the slender curves of her calves and her sweetly rounded knees were themselves an enchantment.
Emboldened by passion and a wildness of desire, Helen reached impatiently for the weapon which her fond Papa presented now fully to her view as-naked as she-he lay with her in rapture. Toying more skilfully now with the object of her desire, Helen asked softly between kisses-“Is this fucking, Papa?”
“By no means, my love, for I have yet to mount you,” declared the ardent knight whilst caressing the plump cheeks of her warm bottom. “There are several ways in which we may take our pleasure, but first I shall lie upon your belly and insert my prick slowly in your delicious cunny. Then, by slow and rapid movements between us, you will truly become intoxicated with delight. And then each of us in turn will expel our liquid pleasures-you upon my cock and balls and I within the velvety clinging of your slit.”
“Oh!” answered Helen with a long quiver. Unknown to him, she had already spent twice by virtue of his digital manipulations and the thought of entertaining his prick at the same time was as spoony as she could imagine. “F… f… fuck me then, Papa,” she murmured, quite unaware of the immediate effect this would have upon Sir Richard, who had never thought to hear the words pass her lips. It seemed to him, in fact, the most exciting invitation of his life. In a moment, he was upon her exquisite form, whilst the crest of his prick announced the fervency of his desire to breach the magic grotto.
In this, Helen assisted him by raising first one leg and then the other as Pamela had taught her to do. The breath whistled in unison from their very nostrils as the exquisite conjunction occurred. With a squeal of wonder, Helen felt the long thick peg of throbbing flesh ease slowly up between the soft and clinging walls of her slit.
“P… P… P… Papa!” she moaned and might have struggled momentarily had Sir Richard not manfully cupped her delightful bottom, raising it slightly off of the coverlet whilst he inserted half the length of his thruster and held it there.
Pamela, he was pleased to think, had already taught him much and he was pleased to hold it there during the brief, wild moments that the upper part of Helen's body threshed.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” she gasped again and again, though in truth she was endeavouring to catch her breath rather than expel it. Ever mindful now that her pleasure must at least be as great as his, her Papa continued to hold her wriggling bottom while amourously sucking upon each of her nipples in turn. Schooling himself sternly, he then commenced easing his piston within her half-inch by half-inch whilst Helen's soft bubbling cries filled the air. It was bigger within her than she had even thought it in her palm, but quite magically she was absorbing it in a manner that heightened her desire second by second to have it all.
“More, Papa!” she moaned as the fretful movements of her hips and bottom assisted him in his endeavours.
“To the hilt!” Sir Richard groaned. He felt her thighs enlace his hips, her calves crossing themselves firmly. Their tongues danced together in a veritable orgy of pleasure, and then with a rattling cry he was fully lodged, his balls nudging her bottom.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Helen choked yet again. It was quite different from Pamela's tongue, but it was all too exciting for words. Indeed, there were no more words for long moments as their lips and tongues engaged and Sir Richard began to shunt his hips slowly. Still cupping her bottom, he felt it swinging gently on his palms as Helen assisted in his delight. By moving herself, she could feel the mouth and the interior of her cunny gliding back and forth along his stiff prick. Clutching her arms tightly about his neck, she loosed her first liquid tribute in little rivulets of pleasure that Sir Richard could not help but feel sprinkling and tingling around his embedded penis.
“My pet, you are coming!” he exclaimed in wonder.
“Go faster! Oh, what heaven it is! Papa, you are fucking me!” responded the enamoured maiden, who would not have stopped then even had all the archangels floated in. Her bottom squirmed and rolled on his palms, her legs tightly clenched about him as they jousted now in earnest.
Sir Richard's pulses pounded, his senses swam. Never had he had a tighter or juicier cunny than this, and one which seemed at every thrust to suck greedily upon his cock.
“I shall come!” he choked, scarce knowing the words he spoke.
“Yes, Papa, you must! Oh, how delicious!” responded Helen, who cared not either now what they said so long as they were engaged in doing it. All thoughts of the world beyond had long passed entirely from her mind. The sturdy loins upon her worked their wonder. Jolting and gasping, she expended her pleasure for the third time, soaking her sire's balls even as the first shoots of his bliss sped up his cock and ejected their spermatic bliss in long, throbbing shoots within her, causing her bottom to writhe with ever more pleasure while the sweet nutcracker action of her lovepurse drew every drop from him and their panting cries of pleasure filled the room.
“Oh, Papa!”
“Oh, Helen!”
The heavings ceased. The last drops of their pearly essences were expelled. Still clutching one another dreamily, a blissful silence ensued. Pecking at her lips, Sir Richard murmured at last his divine pleasure even as his partly shrunken tool slipped from her oozing grotto.
“It was so nice, Papa,” Helen murmured hopefully, cuddling into his arms whilst they lay side by side. “It will be our big secret, shall it not? I shall not tell Mama or even Miranda.”
“Heavens, no!” declared Sir Richard in only the mildest tones of alarm, for he knew her well to be merely comforting him. Her young womanliness was now long apparent to him, as were the exquisite pleasures of her warm curves.
“Nor even Pamela. She must not know, must she?” Helen asked, for truly it was such an exciting thing that had happened to her that she felt she must tell someone.
“I think not, my pet,” Sir Richard answered, though in less assured tones. To his delight, his cock was already stirring anew against her thigh. With errant pleasure he fondled Helen's delightfully plump bottom cheeks, parting them delicately so that his finger might probe the puckered rim of her bottom hole.
At the first touch, Helen giggled and squirmed. “Oh, what are you at?” she asked softly, for Pamela had already inserted her finger there while tonguing her, and the sensations she had received had sent her quite to heaven.
“How tight and warm you are there, my sweet,” he answered, though not daring yet to divulge to her that he meant sometime to have her by that route also. Helen jiggled her bottom impatiently. He was touching all around, but he was not putting it in as she wanted, though she dared not tell him so. Slyly her fingers sidled down and clasped his cock, which had already assumed threatening proportions once more. Her thumb passed lightly over the crest, causing Sir Richard to quiver with lust.
“You little beauty, I shall have you again now!” he groaned. A soft answer, and he was upon her, gliding a trifle more easily than the first time into her now-spermy grotto though it clutched him no less tightly for that.
“Your bottom! By heavens, I shall have your bottom next!” he grunted when they were in the full throes of it.
“Yes, Papa,” assented Helen, her eyes rolling wildly. Her belly was melting again and she was coming. It would be too big for him ever to put it into her bottom, but it would please him to think that he might. Closing her eyes and rocking back and forth under him, Helen surrendered herself to the opportunities of the moment. There would be lots more to come now, she felt sure of it.
Chapter twelve
Lady Patricia Hemingforth De Lancey and her brother Harry were twins, and quite the handsomest pair in the country, it was often said. Both had enjoyed scores of the prettiest girls in Hertfordshire-and if not exactly between them, at least in full liaison with one another.
The twins were twenty-five, and neither saw any immediate merit in getting married since they already enjoyed all the boudoir pleasures thereof without any of its strife. Lady Adelaide, their Mama, knew not a bad word said against them, for such gossip as was put about was kept from her ears and it was she who had endowed the pair with a pretty cottage in the grounds of her manor where, as she innocently put it, they could meet their friends
