There being no ceremony whatever, she perched upon the side of my armchair and ran her fingers all around my neck- 'finger-whispering', as she called it afterwards.
'Is it not pleasant to be in a house where one can make free?', she asked. Jane was already being kissed, and Julie, too-they also by other ladies while the men waited, watched, and smoked cigars. 'I like it, yes', I answered, conscious that I was like a violin that was being gently tuned.' 'I was your age when I began to do the same', she murmured, and her velvet mouth touched mine, moved sideways slowly, and then drew away, leaning on sideways to me, and my chin upraised. 'You have a lovely mouth. The first thing is to learn to kiss. Were you taught that? Come, slide down on the floor and let us kiss. Show no timidity. A girl here once-your junior…' 'Yes, I heard', said I. My dress rucked as I slid, bumped on the floor, uncovering my knees. With a soft laugh she fell upon me, edged her own gown up and put a knee between my legs, was over me like a slim bird of prey. 'My husband will have you first. You do not mind?'
Before I could reply, she was gobbling up my lips with her warm own, one hand beneath my head, the other stealing up my thighs.
'You do not need to look at him. He likes to see my mouth upon a girl's while he is fucking her. I have the feel of what he likes, you see, and thus we stay in love. Extend your tongue-he likes to see them touch. Open your legs more. Let me get your gown up underneath your bottom, dear'. I wanted, wanted to say no. Her mouth was sweet, though, and her tongue agile. My bush was bared. I gurgled as she touched my quim, parted the dark, thick curls, the lips. Around, above us, kisses sounded, whispers, moans. Her finger circled suavely round my spot and made me jerk. Under the liquid velvet of her mouth I breathed. 'I have to hold you while he puts it in. It is the way of men-or some. But let us rub first; he adores to see my bottom up', came her soft voice, and then between my legs she slid, pressed back my knees, and squirmed the soft lips of her quim to mine. I managed to gasp 'HAAR!', but then her mouth was mashed again to mine, tongue twirling, rubbing slowly up and down between my legs, brush of her pubic bush to mine, soft face between my wondering palms, and a cacophony of passion all around. I heard my sister squeal, 'Nah! OH!
Not in my b… b… bottom! OOOH!', but then her cry merged in with others just as lewd. Our stocking tops were rubbing: silk of thighs to silk, our bellies smooth as oil together as she churned, then of a sudden bit my neck and shimmered out her spendings, as I did in turn.
Our fingers bit into each other's arms. I knew the scent of her, the perfume musky from between her thighs. 'Make me come more', I whimpered-knew it not to be my voice. 'She is ready, then, Elizabeth. Roll off of her and hold her shoulders down-and do it quickly, woman, dammit, for my prick is stiff', I heard. Then light invaded once again my eyes and I saw the man who stood above, naked of all save for his shirt, his penis rampant-heavy, hairy balls. 'Oh no, oh no, Elizabeth!', I begged. It was too soon, too sudden and too sharp. A haze of lust was on me, yet I wanted more of her own comforting-wanted a woman's tongue, lips, thighs-wanted the squishy rubbing of our quims. 'Hold her, I said!' 'Yes, darling, yes!'. She sprang up kneeling at my side and pressed my shoulders firmly with her hands while I, glaze-eyed, stared back at her. Her face was all faces-Julie's, Jane's and Constance's. 'Make me come again', I repeated. The utterance was mindless, but I did not care. I did not wish to see him more, and so meshed my lips beneath her own, feeling him kneel between my calves, feeling him come down upon me with a grunt and nub his prick between my oily lips. I remember the stamen-thrusts of him, full sheathing up at first without a pause, then moving strongly back and forth. And I remember her tongue and the baring of my breasts, which both their fingers managed. I was ridden lustily, my bottom bumped and bumping, and the dusty carpet and the cries and moans around, and then he came, too soon, too soon, the powerful, splashing shoot, his balls tight under to my bulbing derriere, and held there, letting it spurt in. At the last, at the last-although I did not want- he brushed his wife aside and mouthed his mouth on mine; and although I say I did not want, I knew a strange and uninvited thrill in his lying full weight on me, prick a-pulsing still and tongue within my mouth, I pressed flat down.
'OH-WOH!', I heard Jane cry out in that instant. One gendeman had succeeded another in pistoning her bottom and undoubtedly he must have found a foamy home therein. Julie was busy sucking on a cock while Harry nested in her quim. All three of us were being put 'to homely use' as afterwards was said. I thought the phrase dismissive, but Jane and Julie did not. 'After all, there is a grain of truth in it', said Jane. I put out my tongue at her. 'It means we are owned', I said. 'In part we are-but what's to that if we are being pleasured well?', she countered. But that was two days afterwards, I being one who sometimes broods on things and then repeats them later. My conqueror had meanwhile risen, cock-adrip in that heavy way it does. His naked toes stirred sensuously up and down my stockinged legs, he gazing down on me appraisingly. 'Such silky skin, such firmness everywhere', he murmured, making me feel like a filly rather than a girl. 'She must visit us. I love her mouth', his wife said, and continued leaning over me with quite a tender smile, brushed back my hair and kissed the corner of my mouth.
'Let me sit up', I said. I had gained possession of myself once more. My cunny throbbed agreeably. I shifted up and placed my back against the chair-seat. Jane-in a sweet agony-was receiving then her second spoutings, kneeling up upon a chair, her bottom poised to the invading prick. I saw with awe her orifice gripped like a baby's mouth around the rigid stem. Julie lay prone. Her lips were creamy, and her cunny no less so. 'She looks like you', the woman said of Jane, and asked, 'Are you sisters?' 'Yes', I said. I wanted the room to move away from me, and all to vanish. 'Good. Then you will both come and see us; I do hope you will'. 'I want to pee', I whispered and got up. The floor rocked a little underneath my feet.
'Sometimes he likes to watch us pee', the woman said. She made to get up with me, but I brushed her hand away. It is best to be unspeaking sometimes; sometimes it is best. The words that are not said are often the best words. Jane uttered up a little 'OOOOH!' and was uncorked. Hearing, I heard, but did not look, and passed into the hall and was about to mount the stairs when voices came from a side room. 'Bad show, yes, about Smithers', I heard a deep voice say, and recognised it for that of Jenkins, but of a different tone, and with an accent level with the other man's who then replied to some effect that one should pay one's gambling debts. 'Absolutely, old fellow', Jenkins said. I heard them make to exit and stepped quickly into the morning room where the half open door concealed me as they passed. Waiting till they had gone, I slipped without and stole upstairs. My need to pee had grown on me. I could not even wait to close the closet door. No sooner had I sat upon the bowl than Aramintha swept in, I gurgling out my wine and punch into the waiting water. She closed the door, knelt quickly inbetween my open legs, soothed both hands up my thighs to clasp my naked hips and murmured, 'Kiss me!' Awkward as the posture was, I bent. Mouths met. My belly tingled, straining. 'Open your legs more', she insisted up against my mouth and, as I did, she slipped her slim hand inbetween the porcelain's cold rim and cupped my lovelips to receive their golden rain. Had I not done this before?, she asked. I shook my head between our kissings, squirted yet again and felt it flow upon her fingers, felt a luxury of sin in my still lingering naivete. Drawing me up, she brought my wet thighs to her own uncovered ones, wearing as she was but a chemise and stockings. -'Nice! There are so many things you have to learn', she said, then spun us both around and sat in turn, and insisted that I did the same to her. O sparkling rills!
The strange act quite excited me; I knew not why, the splashing of her pee upon my palm. A relative, she said, had taught her this and made her piss upon his hand when she was young. Then he would raise her bodily up from the toilet seat and make her young legs wind around his waist, lowering her wet cleft slowly down to meet his rampant prick until it sheathed within her. 'Sometimes he made me pee first on his cock, or sometimes on his chest. How wet we were!', she laughed, and rose and wiped us both with a soft sponge. 'Jenkins', I said.
She knew immediately; she knew. 'Have you uncovered him?', she laughed, and I had nothing left to hide. 'Twice over now, but in two different ways. I heard him speaking downstairs with a friend of yours'. 'Oh, as to that… Well, yes-we have dissembled, I confess. He loves to play the role of servitor, and much good does it do him, as you know. It is a fair way to thread the ladies who come here to seek adventure, on the quiet'. 'His daughters, though; he is very roguish, is he not?', I asked. 'Along that road you travelled with him then? I must confess, it is his favourite sport.
But daughters, no; he has none, in real truth. 'Tis all a fantasy that he enjoys. He has his own estate not far from here. Men have their foibles, dear. You must play up to them in order that you profit most.
I have known dear Charles (yes, that is his real name), oh, on and off for years and years. Shall you tell him that you know? I do not mind, and nor will he, but if you are clever, Emily, you will play his little game just a bit more-though always have a hook in what you do'.
'A hook?', I echoed. 'He thinks himself to be the fisherman, my pet. His only trick, though, is to play the role
