A Man With A Maid II

Now that I had skillfully led this beautiful black-haired virago from a state of inimical warfare to imploring surrender, I proposed to teach her that which her husband had utterly failed in attempting, namely, the achievement of complete voluptuous bliss in the gentle art of mutual fucking. This logically was the only way I could thoroughly convert my intended sister-in-law if I did not wish her at some future time to think back in retrospect and entertain malicious and spiteful recollections of the afternoon, which might even lead her to commit audacious folly. Yes, if I could tap the hidden reservoirs of her female emotions, spin out all the latent, pent-up feverish urgencies in her luscious flesh to such a point that she no longer had control or prudery in her reactions, then I should have made her as ardent a love-slave as her beloved sister had now become.

So, although I longed to lie with her upon the luxurious couch and to take my fill of kisses and caresses and demand the same from her once I had wakened her to passion, I had again to steel myself in not granting her any respite from her by now quite uncomfortable poses and bondage.

I went behind her to take up the globe-box again and returned with it to my chair, seating myself directly in front of her. She gave a little cry and looked down at me, blinking her tear-filled eyes as she stammered, “Oh, what are you going to do to me now? Won’t you have pity on me and let me go? My limbs ache everywhere, and it burns where you w-whipped me so awfully!”

“Presently, Marion, presently,” I told her. Opening the glove-box, I choose the two very longest feathers and then put the box onto the floor at one side of my chair. With a feather in each hand, I leaned forward, seated on the edge, so that I could command the full expanse of her legs and middle as well as reach up without too much strenuous exertion to attack the panting turrets of her delicious bubbies.

I advanced the feather in my left hand towards her navel, flicking all around into that delightful nook, and then with my right hand swept the plume at the socket of her svelte, quivering left hip, tickling the shivering skin with a lingering peroration. She gasped and wriggled, bit her lips, and then closed her eyes, apparently resolved to show me with her stoicism that she was truly repentant and submissive. Now the feather in my left hand glided down her stockinged thigh and stroked the fine black silk sheath about the knee up to where that lovely column joined her hip, while the feather in my right hand began to brush against her lower abdomen where the first black curls of her pubis flourished. As I lowered the tip of this feather toward the top of her cunt, Marion uttered a low sobbing groan and hoarsely stammered, “Oh, s-sir, I can’t resist you any longer, I’m so exhausted and I hurt so, I’m ready to grant you whatever you wish if you’ll only let me go!”

“Be patient, my gentle dove,” I mockingly retorted, “for what I am doing will guarantee your newly found desire to show me kindness!” And with this, I lowered the feather in my right hand down toward the very top of her cunt and began to tickle her. Marion’s eyes widened as she stared down at herself, and all of a sudden a fiery blush suffused her contorted, flushed tear-stained cheeks. Then she gnawed her lower lip and stiffened herself, but she could not help a sporadic trembling which shook her body from head to foot. I stared greedily at the thick verdure of that black crisp silky growth which so luxuriantly and protectively fleeced her slit. And I prodded the feather till the tip probed through the curls and touched the tip of her outer labia, then began very deftly to rasp it up and down the lip nearest me so as to sensitize it. Meanwhile the other feather continued its gliding touches all along her trembling thigh, now visiting the back of her leg with long and deliberate caresses. A tiny whimpering gasp escaped the naked victim as she tried to flex her muscles and renew their intrepid resistance to my blandishments.

Now the feather in my right hand moved over to the top of the other fleshy outer lip which helped to form that lovely fig, that sweet conch-shell which was her voluptuous cunt, and I proceeded to tickle it the same way. But now I glided the feather down to the very base of her slit and then back up again along that crinkly, fleshy pink lovelet, while the other feather now moved to the inside of her right thigh very near the furry gape which I was so intently beleaguering.

“Ohh, Oh what are you doing, oh my Lord, please stop-oh, I can’t stand this-truly I can’t-oh, sire, sire, be merciful, I’m only a helpless woman-ahh-ooohh-oh, no more, no more, in the name of mercy!” Marion panted as she began to jerk and twist, trying to wriggle her hips from side to side to disengage those feathers from their stealthy and relentless attack.

Now, slyly, I moved the feather in my left hand over to her cunt and in a trice had the soft downy tips of both of them moving up and down the two fleshy portals which concealed the road to paradise. Marion uttered a shriek and lunged her bottom backwards to escape this dual siege of her most sensitive and sacrosanct region. But all I had to do was pull my chair up an inch or so forward, and continue my ministrations. The ropes at her ankles as well as those dragging up her arms confined her to an extremely limited range of movement, just enough to excite me with her convulsive gyrations and her buckings and lungings which made her thighs and bubbies jounce and jiggle and express the luscious resilience of her naked flesh. And once again both feathers directed their diabolically persuasive caresses up and down the outer labia of Marion’s twitching cunt.

“Aah-oh my G-God in heaven, oh, you’ll drive me crazy, oh please, sir, oh, in the name of heavenly mercy I beseech you don’t-oh do stop-eeeowww-oh, Lord, oh, it’s too much, I can’t bear it any longer, oh do have mercy on a poor helpless woman and spare me, sir!” Her vibrant voice was choked with sobs and gasps and groans as she twisted and arched and wriggled back and forth, her eyes now fixedly staring down at the two white plumes aimed at her crotch, whose tips were slyly tickling the quivering coral petals of her love-slit.

I drew them away so that I could have a look at the threshold of my coming attainement. Yes, definitely the curly thicket of Marion’s pussy-hair was ruffled, and here and there I could perceive the exquisite crinkly surfaces of that voluptuous mucous membrane which was her temple of Venus, her nymph’s grotto of satyr’s delight. And then, with a cool little smile as I stared up at her, I thrust the tips of both feathers deep into her cunt and worked them back and forth!

The effect was magical! Marion emitted a wild, piercing shout of “Aaaah, Ohh, nooooooo!!!” and madly jerked her bottom backwards to draw herself away from the twin torments. But I followed, rapt with excitement, my prick throbbing with a ferocious urgency that told me I must not overestimate my powers of self-control in the face of such bewitching naked loveliness and enervation as my charming mature naked captive now evinced in my presence.

Once again the feathers dug into her quaking slit as far as I could shove them, then drew slowly out. Marion’s head rose and fell, turned from side to side, her eyes rolling and brimming with great tears which broke and rolled down her contorted and flushed cheeks, and her trembling lips exuded whimperings, sobs, and moans, while her glorious bubbies heaved with furious turbulence. The spasmodic flexions which visited her straining, slightly gaping thighs demonstrated that she had reached a state of feverish approach toward the very voluptuousness which I meant to unleash.

I laid the feathers down on the arm of my chair and then I knelt down before her, as an acolyte might to his high priestess. I gripped the backs of her stockinged thighs and I put my tongue to the warm twitching and palpitating olive skin of her left thigh just above the rosette. How warm and tasty it was to savor! Not only was there the subtle perfume with which she had evidently sprayed herself before her visit, but the stronger and more exciting compound of perspiration and the tang of her woman-smell coming from her delicious Venus-vent.

“Oh, don’t do that, for God’s sake!” Marion fairly shrieked, as she dashed her bottom backwards as far as her pinions would permit. But my fingers rose up to grip the base of those olive-sheened nether ovals, and I forced her back to me and my tongue rasped upwards till it attained the sensitive, soft twitching flesh of the groin as I made my way towards the sweet fig of her voluptuous cunt.

“Nooooo!!! Oh my God, don’t do that to me! Oh, I won’t, I won’t let you-oh, it’s shameful-please stop, Oh, sir, oh my God, don’t do it!” Marion wailed. I did not deign to answer. For now I pressed my lips full against the furry mound and I applied a loud smacking kiss on Marion’s exquisite slit!

Her head fell back, her eyes lifting to the ceiling as if appealing to supernatural powers to save her from my onslaught. The perfume of her loins was like a potent aphrodisiac in my own excited system. And now, thrusting out the tip of my tongue, I rasped through the fleece until I came into contact with the palpitating prism of her cunny, until I felt the fleshy outer lip of her love-hole in helpless contact with my ardent and expert tongue!

Another wild yell burst from her throat as she desperately tried to clench her thighs, but all she did was to arch and squirm herself further against me, so that my tongue could furrow this way and that, making the sweet circle of that plump fig of hers, and the violent shudders that ran up and down her tethered body only added to my rising erotic fury.