True, they gave some coy signs of resistance, but no more than to churn their bottoms about, which, so far from dislodging the throbbing entrants, merely served to embed them further. The trestles creaked a little, but otherwise all was well! With each pumping movement the gentlemen's trousers subsided and descended until they were about their ankles. The smacking of bellies to bottoms sounded very juicily, as you will understand (and will envy me the hearing and the sight of!). Both the Minister and Jeannette's Papa made such noises-you may imagine!-as indicated their delirious enjoyment. Their balls swung back and forth as did the girls' hips. All was deliciously fluid and in rhythm and made more peculiarly thrilling by the general absence of words. What need of words when the music is beautiful? Heads hanging so that their hair all but brushed the floor, each girl's cheeks were delightfully as deep a shade of pink as their bottoms had been, and this of course from the virile attentions that were being accorded them. They grimaced pleasurably, they whimpered, they mewed-these sounds of complete surrender merging in symphonic delight with the groans and grunts of their two stallions. Then as the men bent their knees a little more-the tendons straining in the backs of their legs-first one blindfold began to slip, and then the other. I had anticipated this, with all the jogging back and forth, and most naughtily had done it to a purpose. She who was being reamed by Jeannette's Papa lost hers first-which is to say that it slipped quite slowly down her nose. Then the other's descended, too. For a moment, since all were riding up to their longed-for peaks and the honeypots were about to trickle forth and gush, both my girls continued keeping their heads well bowed, but then as if by a silent signal (which I had not rehearsed with them, but knew must happen), each lifted her shoulders slowly and gazed open-mouthed and flushed not only at each other but at the “riders” to their rears. AH! (Are you about to guess? But I swear you will get it the wrong way round!) Georges-whose sperm was in that moment already spurting up his embedded cock-found himself gazing over the bowed back of his young Venus straight into the eyes of Jeannette!
This visual encounter was immediate on both sides! “Goooo!” gasped Jeannette, though whether solely because she found herself staring open-mouthed at her panting parent or because the Minister was in that moment injecting her with his lubricious offering is difficult to say. “P… P… P… P…!” she began to moan.
“Gee-gee-gee-Jean-nette!” stammered he, though this was scarce a time for conversation since he too was emitting his manly juice, and I had no doubt at all that the sweet girl was also sprinkling. Her teeth gritted, her eyes closed and opened again while her Papa could do naught else but gaze hot-eyed on her the while he endured the sweet agonies of the mutual crisis to which all were called. Their faces must have swum before each others eyes and Jeannette, I noticed, could not but help continuing to shunt her supple hips back and forth as though to extract every creamy spurt and blob and drop from her amourous assailant. What then would you have done, sweet Caroline? I had of course already made up my mind upon the matter since the outcome had never been in doubt. I moved from my peephole-feeling not a little wriggly myself-and lingered for a few moments, giving all four combatants enough respite. Moving then with measured steps, I left the small adjoining room and quietly entered the gymnasium. There, as I had thought might be, the two gentlemen had covered themselves up, though the girls had remained unmoving! At my entrance both the Minister and Georges turned slightly pale-if, that is, one can do so while remaining flushed! You will divine what I mean. Their expressions were taut, confused, to say the least. The Minister would have had no more problems in identifying his companion's daughter than Georges had had himself. As to the other girl… no! It was not Dorothy! Certainly not! She was one whom you have not met, but would much like to. Her name is Cynthia and this was but her second sperming. In receiving her first, in England, she had struggled and squalled no end and so had been sent to me. You will judge from her performance that she has learned much better by now.
I clapped my hands in brisk and businesslike fashion, not addressing myself to the gentlemen at all. “Good girls! How well behaved you are! You may rise now while the gentlemen escort me to my drawing room to take refreshments. Tidy yourselves and clothe yourselves. For your valour in the field, my pets, you may quietly join us, if you wish.” If you wish, said I, but then I had told them beforehand to be obedient in all things on this particular evening, though I do admit to having played a wicked trick on Jeannette, for I had not told her that her Papa was coming and had merely said that the Minister would have a male companion. All this suited my purpose well. To Jeannette I could afterwards say that her Papa's arrival had been unexpected, but that I could do nothing thereafter to hinder events. As to the gentlemen, the Minister had threaded Jeannette and, in all effect, Georges had aided and abetted the voluptuous act since he could not deny that he might have known of his nubile daughter's presence. There was no malice on my part in this, of course. I had merely to assure myself that the gentlemen were tactfully “netted” and that their future conduct would be as I wished.
Each took his exit in some confusion, though with a smirk of satisfaction lingering on the lips of each. I dallied a moment with my girls, whereat Jeannette threw herself into my arms all a-quiver and uttered only, “Oh, Madam!” “There, there, dear, how delicious you looked, and you, too, Cynthia. Put on your dresses, draw your stockings tight again, see to your hair, and let us all be cosy,” said I. “But, Madam!” Jeannette's little fevered cry followed me to the door, but I ignored it as I knew I must. In the drawing room I found Georges and the Minister very quiet-indeed, one might say speculative, though as I entered I heard them softly avowing to one another their total discretion at all times. I made no bones about hearing this, either. “That is what I like to hear, gentlemen!
Come, will you not take some port with me? The girls will join us in a moment. You see how delicately I treat them? None of us need have remorse. You saw them strapped but lightly, felt their bottoms warm, discovered not a single weal or mark-is that not true?” I skirted the other “little matter”-well, of course I did. They had no means of knowing that I knew and so to great extent were mollified.
“Indeed, we are content,” Georges said, and with greater truth than I seemingly had cause to believe. “There will be no-er-unwonted visits any more,” the Minister said gruffly and downed half of his glass! “Excellent, Messieurs, though if both or either of you wish to come again then I shall welcome you, as will my girls-but you alone, of course,” I added meaningfully. Each coloured up a little at that but did not look displeased, whereat I turned the conversation to more mundane matters. Then a very hesitant knock sounded at the door. “Entrez!” I called, and in with simpering feet came Cynthia and Jeannette. Georges sat upon a chaise lounge, I in an armchair, and the Minister accommodated as was I. “Do not be shy, girls. Jeannette, would you care to pour, and perhaps refill our glasses? Thank you. Have you greeted your Papa at all? You must, you know. Cynthia, I fear there is not another chair. Pray take your seat upon the arm of the Ministers chair. Good girl!” Cynthia has delicious thighs. They showed through her thin dress as so she perched and crossed her legs, a slight flush in her face. As for Jeannette, she had nowhere else to go but on the chaise lounge next to Georges and there seated herself, armed with a glass, most sedately, gazing at me in much awe. Oh, but I have over-run my time and space.
Forgive me if I fly. There IS a little more to tell, but for the nonce I must keep it from you, though not for more than a week, I swear. How long it takes to write! Oh, that we both had magic pens and could cover twice the pages that we do! No matter, it will keep you in suspense. And now your news of Alison and Sylvia, please!
Devotedly Julie
14
Editors Note: Correspondents who address themselves to The Times and other worthy newspapers, frequently beg forgiveness of the Editor for taking up too much of his space-and this despite the fact that the said worthy has frequently had to cut half of their verbiage out. My own task in this respect has been much happier. I have omitted nothing that would be of immediate and stirring interest to the reader. Moreover, neither Julie nor Caroline nor all the others would have needed to beg my forgiveness for their “longeurs.” Had they indeed possessed “magic pens,” then this volume would have been happily twice as long. But now to Caroline's reply, since these two appear to be hogging the post!
My lovely Julie, How naughty you are! You have never done the like before. Well-not quite!
Can you imagine my desire to know what was further said and what transpired in your drawing room on that sultry evening? Even so, I will forgive you for not telling me immediately, for I know you have a penchant for teasing-and more than that, it was indeed a lovely long letter that you wrote me. I have read it countless times and envisaged all! Dick was in no doubt whatever about renewing his acquaintance with Alison, whose bottom
