Anonymous - The Vicar's girl

'Oh gawd!' Thomas husked in delight. In the past he had had several fine peeps at Elsie's apple-round bottom when she had flitted about wearing naught but a petticoat, and his fingers had ofttimes tingled to taste those prettily-bulbing cheeks.

With Elsie's new posture, he could view in totality the chubby halfmoons, the sweet crevice that divided them, and the nesting of curls around her slit.

Hearing Vanessa's hurried whisper of 'To your post, man!' and therewith a more wavering cry of, 'No, Dad, you can't!' Thomas saw to it that he could. Straddling his well-muscled legs behind those of Elsie, he suffered no warnings from a fascinated Vanessa as his swollen crest slewed up between the pouting lips and made its new home fully, deep between the satiny walls.

'Mum-mum!' Elsie sobbed.

'Hold hands, girls. Put yours over hers, Maude. Clasp them. Good! Not too quickly, Thomas, please now. Give her a good sturdy fuck. It need not be the last she will receive from you if you perform well'.

And with that-truth to tell-Vanessa began a slow backward movement towards the door. The gasps, the sighs, the breathless, incoherent murmurs from the two females as the males attended upon them-the utter certainty that all would now finish the course-filled Vanessa with immense pride. It would be pleasant, thought she, to witness the four of them in the dizzying aftermath, to know what was said and what passed-to know what further impassioned caresses they might enter into. But even so, such would take up too much of her time, and she could learn later from Maude what transpired. The thought of the sovereigns she was due to receive would hang over Maude as closely as would this voluptuous and perhaps overdue event.

Hence, raising the latch and quietly opening the door that led into the gathering night, Vanessa took one last lingering look at the fully-occupied quartet. Elsie had surrendered-haplessly, perhaps, but nobly, too.

'Can't help…!' she was moaning to a dazed and excited Maude whose fingers were interlocked with her own. Elsie wriggled adorably to every commanding stroke of the parental penis, which was thick, meaty and already glistening from the first eager little 'shower' she had afforded it, her polished bumcheeks rubbing amourously against Thomas's stomach.

Alfred would surely come now, and Thomas would come too soon, Vanessa thought, but such could not be helped in the first fervours of desire. There would be time again for more. There surely would.

The fever that was upon the Rev. Jubstone was a light one, albeit that it brought many strange fancies and fantasies into his mind. He had heard that Miss Markham had visited briefly, which had evidently been in order to relay a message that Mrs. Smith was poorly and could not attend upon him.

It might be-pondered he-that his housekeeper had fallen foul of the same sickness as he. On the other hand, a faint suspicion entered his mind that the hand of Vanessa was intrusive in this matter, though to what purpose he knew not.

Fever attends upon men differently, and in Percival's case it caused him to erect even more frequently than he was normally wont to do. He hoped that Mildred had not noticed it tenting up the bedclothes on her frequent visits to his room, bearing a hot-toddy or the like.

On the other hand, however, he equally hoped that she might, for he was curious as to what her reaction might be. Four years younger than himself, Mildred was a widow of considerably firm and protuberant charms over which he had not seldom cast a wandering eye. Now that he was abed, she had cause to lean over him often, and it was frequently with great difficulty that he prevented himself from fondling her mammalian beauties as they hovered close to his face or shoulder.

On the occasion of such further circlings in his mind as those of which we have spoken, he failed to control his errant hand and, in receiving a cup of tea from Mildred, allowed his knuckles to brush the nipple which was concealed firstly by her brown dress and, beneath that, by her chemise.

At the touch-accidental as she conceived it to be Mildred flushed and said that she had left the kettle on the hob, this causing her to retreat with a distinct tingling in her bosom and while leaving Percival in fear that she might be offended.

To the contrary, however, Mildred was strangely disturbed and blamed herself muchly for being so. Her brother she conceived to be the most upright of men and feared that latterly the nudgings of the devil were ever at her elbow. Modest and quiet in all her ways, there were yet stirrings in her loins that occasionally brought a sheen of frustration and self-reproach into her eyes. Reaching the kitchen and standing alone upon the cool, stoneflagged floor, Mildred leaned against the door and fretted mournfully at her wicked thoughts. She must remarry, she told herself, but just as quickly cast the thought away, for such unions frequently brought complications such as she did not wish to entangle her life with.

That single touch on her breast was the first such she had received in years, and so sensitive was her bosom that she had even felt a slight tingling in her belly as well.

'Oh, Percy!' she made to call out in desperation, there being no one else to whom she could appeal for aid and comfort-someone to solace and guide her into the paths of righteous thought, as she put it to herself. Her weight being heavy against the door, Mildred did not at first feel the light push upon it, but then started at the mention of her name and stepped forward-much flushed with guilt and anxiety-as her brother entered.

What instinct caused him to appear at that point is unknown. Perhaps it was but a passing motion of thought through his mind, or mayhaps that the single, furtive caress he had afforded Mildred had produced emotions that were stronger than his fever.

At his entrance, Mildred turned to the table and there leaned against it, so hastily producing a small handkerchief from within her bodice that the Vicar could not fail to see her state of distress, asking, 'What ails you, my dear?'

'Percy, oh Percy, I am in a state of sin! And why are you not abed? You should be abed'.

'It may be that we both should be, my dear', replied he solemnly and not without hope, for such signal as he was giving showed rigidly through his nightgown. Though being utterly concerned with her own thoughts, Mildred curiously failed to observe the projection and only heard him asking in return, 'What state of sin are you in, my dear? Confess to me, for surely I have the right to hear you first'.

'But it is so terrible! Oh, Percy, if only you knew!'

'It is of the mind or of the body, Mildred?'

'My thoughts, my thoughts!' she uttered hysterically.

'Tush, Mildred. What are thoughts save passing fancies through the mind? You are overwrought and tired withal, perhaps. I have been a burden to you, that I know'.

'No, Percy, you have not-never!'

Unthinkingly, Mildred then cast herself a few feet forward and embraced him, thus bringing her belly to touch against the stave that burned beneath the cotton covering. And, fearful that at its discovery she might draw away, Percy cast his arms about her waist and held her closer into him, savouring the thrusting of her large breasts to his chest.

'I, too, have sinned, Mildred, both in mind and body. Are we not kin? May we not speak freely in four walls of such? Even now-isolated and lonely as I am-the veritable beauty of your form pressed against mine…'

'No, Percy, stop! We know not what we say!' uttered Mildred whose consciousness of the throbbing of his erect tool against her could no longer be concealed even from herself. 'Let me go! Pray let me go!' she sobbed, and with that tore herself from his arms and fled, leaving the kitchen door to bang upon its latch.