Anonymous - Venus in the Country

“Fill me to the brim, Edmund-you must promise.”

“Yes, my darling. Ah! how luscious and tight your slit is, how glorious your bottom, your thighs and your tits!”

“Did you not want to before, you naughty boy?”

“Oh, my love, unendurably! How often I have wanted to take your drawers down! I realise now that it was the cause of all my gloom.”

“Silly Edmund, why did you not poke me years before-I would have loved it. Poke me now, for I need it. I shall not let you sleep until you have done it in me thrice! Oh, what a cock you have! Faster, faster, I swear you have lots in your balls for me, darling.”

“Ah, I have! Work your hips, make me come, let me feel your bottom-I shall have it next!”

Quite berserk, the couple thrust and moaned, causing the bed to shake considerably as Edmund's penis slewed joyously in and out of its blessed haven. Their moans sounded ever anew amidst the most lewd of exchanges, for both felt their minds entirely freed by their exchanges and the raptures they were experiencing.

“My b… b… bottom! Oh, you bad thing! Have you thought of that, too? Has it tempted you?”

“Such big cheeks… ah, so firm… ah, so… aaaaah!”

“You are coming, Edmund! Oh, what a lot! What heavenly jets-do it more! Flood me! Fill my cunny!”

So the lewd pair rode on and on through the night until totally exhausted they surrendered to the arms of Morpheus as the first light of dawn flashed its pale wings across the surrounding hills and dales. Ever waking early by habit, this time their amourous combats sent them deeper into sleep, whereby a catastrophe might have occurred. For at seven-thirty, entering the vicarage as was her wont at that hour and finding the place unusually still, their housekeeper, Carrie ventured enquiringly upstairs.

The Vicar's study was empty, as was his bedroom. But Agnes's was not. Sprawled across the bed beneath her very eyes, the guilty pair lay still enlaced, while Agnes, with a smile on her sleeping features cradled her brother's cock in her hand.

Making not a sound, Carrie descended the stairs and made herself a cup of tea to get over the shock. She had always looked upon the pair as the most respectable of people, but now her eyes were opened to a new light. Indeed to make sure that she had seen what she believed she had seen and that she was not bewitched, Carrie ventured up the stairs anew and once more gazed upon the orgiastic scene. Both combatants being naked, she could see all that she wished to see, including most of all the doughty plug of Edmund's prick.

Retiring again to the kitchen, which she ever considered to be her own domain, Carrie renewed her refreshments, this time with a liberal dose of whisky which she added to her tea. What to do about the whole matter she did not know. She was fond of Agnes, and while the Vicar was a gloomy man, he was not ungenerous.

Carrie liked having discussions with herself, so she debated whether she should make a scandal of it and so upset the entire parish, or keep the matter hushed. Such things happened in the big houses-all the servants knew it-but now it was on her own doorstep.

Being partial to a drop, Carrie had some more tea and whisky until she became rather merrier than she meant to and began to make a great to-do clattering pots and pans about. Naturally, the resulting noise rang through the vicarage and made Edmund and his sister start up. Indiscreetly having left the bedroom door open, both feared the worst and clung to each other like babes in the woods. Edmund found the morning embrace of his naked Venus so exciting that he would have had her under him again.

“Oh, Edmund, no! Good heavens, suppose she had seen us.”

“That I doubt, my love, for she never ventures upstairs at this hour. We are safe, I do believe. Let us close the door and make merry for a moment.”

“No, Edmund, you are very naughty to suggest it. Go, sir, to your own room and repair yourself. What a condition you are in!”

Indeed, Edmund had as fine a cock-rise as he had ever achieved and would have wrestled with her for his bounty had not some semblance of sanity returned to him. Gathering up his tousled garments, he made quickly to his bedroom, where he was forced to conceal his considerable penis as best he could in its stiff state. Agnes, meanwhile, being much concerned at the dire possibility that their sins had been unveiled, threw on her nightgown and made for the kitchen.

This she found in as great a disarray as she had left her bed. Pans were tossed in the sink. Pots lay upon the floor.

“Oh, Carrie, what are you at?”

Carrie was not herself. A woman of forty, whose husband poked her insufficiently for her needs, she had sat for the last five minutes entertaining wicked thoughts of what must have passed between Agnes and Edmund during the night. Like many who wrestle between conscience and imagination, the latter had won. Her mind was a ferment of erotic ideas which spread the more she tried to resist them.

“I, indeed, Miss Agnes!” she sneered. “I have been playing games, it is true, but none so nice as you. Oh, what will your dear sister say, for you know how proper she is, inspecting everything each time she comes.”

Thoroughly aghast that Carrie knew their secret, Agnes resorted to woman's best defence by bursting into tears.

“Oh, Carrie, we were misled by the devil. I fear we imbibed too much. Poor Edmund was not at fault. I acted as his temptress. Will you not forgive me and swear you will say nothing? The scandal would be such that we would be hunted from the parish and poor Edmund would lose his living!”

“Well, Miss Agnes, if you had such a nice time of it, then perhaps I should say nothing. I knows well enough my old man don't give it to me as much as he should, and those that falls only occasionally by the wayside is as bad off as I.”

“Oh, Carrie, you mean you will say nothing?”

Being somewhat loose of mind as of tongue in that moment, Carrie rose and embraced her mistress. A whisky-laden kiss bestowed itself upon Agnes's cheek.

“I won't say nothing, Miss. I thought you looked as fair a pair as I ever saw lying there in the Garden of Eden as it were and in a state of Nature. Did he give it to you nice?”

Quite overcome by such words, Agnes knew not what to say, though she was so overwhelmed with relief that her mind all but deserted her. That she must appease Carrie in every way she had no doubt. Blushing exceedingly, she hid her face.

“Yes, Carrie, he did.”

“Did he do it once like my old man does and then turn over and snore?”

“Oh, Carrie, why are we talking like this-it is quite improper. I know that I fell into sin, but shall not do it again, I swear.”

Carrie giggled. It did not seem to matter what they said or did now, for they were all as bad as one another, servants and masters. Clutching Agnes as she was she took a good feel of her bottom which felt nice and warm and round under her nightgown.

“Come, Miss Agnes, what hypo… hypo… hypopopcrisy,” said Carrie, who knew not how to say the word. “I vow he had it in you more than once by the manner in which you were holding his cock while you were asleep. If you refuse to say, then I shall have to change my mind.”

“No, Carrie, I beg you. Oh, you naughty woman, what are you lifting my nightgown for? Pray stop-you make me wriggle. Yes, I confess, Edmund did it more than once to me-thrice, in fact.”

“What a cock he must have, then, I always thought it. You means to keep it to yourself now, I suppose?”

“What, Carrie? Oh! Stop feeling me there-you make me feel quite strange. Take your finger out!”

Edmund was emerging from his bedroom and betaking himself to his study to arrange his papers for the day when he heard the strange sounds coming from below. At first he could not believe his ears, for Carrie was ever a quiet woman and he had prayed fearfully that Agnes had allayed any suspicions their housekeeper might have had.