Anonymous - Venus in the Country

Not being minded yet to insert it there until she had otherwise been breached, he contented himself with pressing it in the groove between the chubby warm cushions and-passing his hands to the front- commenced fondling and caressing the swelling melons of Mary's breasts.

Between the licentious pair, Mary all but swooned with pleasure. A wicked big thing such as her uncle had, and which her Mama had entertained, was pressed against her bottom whilst knowing fingers were agitating her nipples. At the same time, Belinda had passed her fingers down between Mary's thighs and was pleasurably fondling the sweet pink slit which nested in a froth of curls.

“Kiss me goodnight, my pet,” Belinda breathed.

All sweetness and softness and honey, Mary could not but obey. With swimming head, she felt the lips of her cunny grow moist and sticky as it was teased. Drawing the girl's upper leg over her hip, the better to present a first target for her husband, Belinda commenced to coo and whisper to her whilst dipping her forefinger up in Mary's oozing lovepot and sliding her tongue in and out of the girl's mouth.

In turn, Sir Richard's own hand sought the dell of pleasure. Adjusting his imperious prick more tightly upright into Mary's groove, he caressed her bottom fervently and then joined his fingers with his wife's in exciting the girl into a veritable frenzy so that it was but a moment later that, rolled wide-eyed on to her back, Mary found her nest presented to the cock.

A sigh of deep desire issued from Sir Richard as, under the glowing eyes of his spouse, he lowered himself slowly onto Mary's belly and nudged the glowing crest of his penis against her slit.

“Do you want to be fucked, my pet?” he asked, only to delay but a few seconds more the delicious moment of entry. Therewith Belinda bent over the flushed prey and kissed her softly while passing agile fingers over her erected nipples.

“You must always say, Mary. Ask him to fuck you.”

Clutching instinctively at Sir Richard's arms and feeling the increasing pressure of his knob, Mary could only moan. She did want it, she knew she wanted it, and she knew she must have it. It merely seemed terribly naughty of Lady Bromley to be watching but this- Mary decided hazily-was perhaps what all grown-ups did.

“Y… y… y…yes! Oh, yes! What a big one!” Mary stammered unguardedly, for she had already sat upon her Uncle Roger's after he had spanked her bottom and just before they were interrupted.

“You must say the magic words,” Belinda insisted lewdly. “Then you must put your tongue in my mouth and hold it there while it goes in you.”

“F… f…f…” stammered Mary, but at that moment of time she never got the words out for an impatient Sir Richard-desiring to be fully upon her and in her-had already begun to insert his pounding pestle in her silken sheath and with a suitable groan was already halfway in when Mary uttered the shrill cry, “F… f… fuck me-yes-OOOOH!”

It was then that Pamela, with her door ajar, leapt up. She had heard distinctly the wicked words and could no longer bear to remain discarded. Virtually leaping into Lady Waterhouse's room, she shook her so vigourously that the lady was roused from her dreams.

“Wh… wh… wh… whaaaat?” she stuttered, making little head or tail of the words that Pamela was tumbling into her ears.

Thereupon two other events occurred which were each in their own way if not to turn the tide, then at least to divert it a little. From the boudoir along the corridor was heard a mingling of moans and cries as the three occupants of the bed entered with abandon into the throes of desire. Pumping slowly, Sir Richard had cupped Mary's pert bottom on his palms and was slewing in and out gently whilst, in a delirium of pleasure the wanton miss coiled tongues with Belinda and even passionately caressed her pussy. Simultaneously a loud knocking was heard at the entrance and-the servants being abed-'twas Pamela who in much frustration hastened down to answer it.

Opening the big door, she found herself facing a gentleman unknown to her who quickly introduced himself as Lord Waterhouse. He had been informed, he said, that his wife and daughter were here and so had come to join them.

“Oh, sir!” declared Pamela all a-fluster and somewhat aware that his eyes were all about her night-gowned figure which showed its slim curves to perfection, so fine and clinging was the material about her limbs. “They… they… they are upstairs,” she stammered.

Quite entranced by the allure of Pamela's thinly clad bottom preceding him, a certain excitement arose in the good lord that he might even have a more entertaining night if he could find out where the girl's room was. Somewhat intrigued, then, as he was guided to the upper floor, he found the door of a bedroom open and his dear wife lying quite naked upon it.

“She is a… a… asleep, sir,” stuttered Pamela, who knew now not what to do or say.

“Indeed she is,” observed Lord Waterhouse. “Close the door, my dear, lest we disturb her. And my daughter is well settled?” he asked hopefully, observing with a twitching of his cock the proud standing of Pamela's breasts beneath the cotton of her nightdress.

“S… s… sir, she is c… conversing with Sir Richard and his wife-in there,” Pamela said, nodding hopefully toward the bedroom door from behind which some joyous sounds and the singing of bedsprings could be heard.

“Conversing?” exclaimed Lord Waterhouse in bemusement, “What an extraordinary thing to be doing, and what curious sounds. Really, I suppose I had best let them know of my presence.”

“Oh, no, sir-that is, I mean… oh!”

For too late, the intrigued visitor was already striding toward the door, even as Pamela stretched out a delaying hand. As in a dream, she saw him open it. There ensued then a gasp, for though the lamps within had been doused, the kindly moon shone its light upon the proceedings in a manner which no eyes could deny. In fact, several sounds were heard, including not a few fretful groans, for at that moment Sir Richard was climbing to his peak and, as for Mary, her tummy and pussy seemed to be melting with bliss.

Staggering back against the wall and quite unmindful of the fact that she had devoutly wished such a denouement in order to uncover the proceedings, Pamela awaited the eruption that must surely come. Instead, however, amid the quite inexpressible sounds from Mary and her lusting mount, there came Belinda's astonished cry, “Oh! Harry!”

Indeed there came many.

“Belinda!”

“P… P… Papa!”

“Richard!”

“H… H… H… Harry!”

“C… c… c… close the door!”

The door closed, and such a momentary silence enfolded the night that Pamela somewhat dizzily allowed herself to believe she had imagined the entire affair, though she much fretted with herself afterward for ever having entertained such a thought. Then to her ears issued more cries.

“Oh! Harry! Oh, you naughty man-yes, do!”

“Ah, Belinda!”

“Oh, Papa!”

Pamela could hear no more. It was a much more wicked world than she had ever brought herself to think-particularly as she had not arranged this unexpected melee. Quite put out at facing her first defeat, she retired to her room praying only that her two charges, Helen and Miranda, had not been awakened by such licentious behaviour. Then in but a few moments her agile mind and unconquerable spirit came once more to the fore. Returning to Lady Waterhouse's room, she entered, removed the key, and locked the door from the outside without disturbing its resident.

Going then boldly forward to the main bedroom, where the four were now ensconced, she knocked and entered.

More cries! More alarms! Both Mary and Lady Bromley would have sat up-had they been able.