Anonymous - The Vicar's girl

'Glah!' choked Mr. Partridge, his sperm forming a thick, mucous pool over and around its intended target. His jaw sagged. He was all but spent, as Vanessa saw, and was on such a point of imminent weakness that his slippery poker was easily pushed further back until its final pearls dripped warmly upon Mabel's right thigh. With a groan of mingling

despair and satisfaction, he then subsided, bringing his weight to bear upon his daughter's mounding tits and belly while in his final frenetic jerkings his head lay beside her own, his cock issuing driblets still upon her silksoft skin.

'You see?' Vanessa whispered with a smile to Mabel who lay limp and wondering, her eyes glazed as she continued to suffer the manly weight upon her. Mabel's parted lips were unmoving under the soft kiss she received while with one careful, nudging hand Vanessa caused Mabel's sire to glide off her.

With a little cry then, Mabel rolled onto her hip upon the very edge of her bed and threw her arms about Vanessa much in the manner of a lost child.

'Nice-is it not nice? It will be even better soon', her temptress murmured, stroking her nubile pupil's hair while Eric-guilt-ridden and yet containing within himself new fires of delight-groped his way off of the bed and quickly hauled his trousers up.

Blinded as she was by the looming of Vanessa's face over her own, and now more eager for the kisses that wafted over her flushed face, Mabel did not see the flicking of her tutor's hand which sent Mr. Partridge shuffling without and in so much wondering that he could not believe what had transpired, nor-since it patently had-why Vanessa had not allowed him to complete the sensuous act.

Pausing on the landing and undecided now as to how to act henceforth in respect of Mabel, or where indeed to take himself for the moment, he decided upon descending in order to quaff some restoring port or whiskey. Scarce had he begun to imbibe, however, and while reflecting on the perfect delights of Mabel's parted legs and snowy-mounded tits than Margaret made her entrance.

It had been for her, perhaps, an even more perfect day than for Eric. Her bottom tingled agreeably still from the dual assaults it had received in a quiet pasture from both the boys who-somewhat shamefaced at the thought of encountering their father-had taken to the rear of the house.

Unlike most adults, Margaret thought, boys in their youth did not allow their minds to linger upon acts of voluptuousness in which so far they showed much desiring effort but little finesse. It would be pleasant, for instance, to have her thighs licked, her bottom tickled by a teasing tongue, her nipples drawn upon more sensuously. With George and Freddy she was ever too hasty in the act, permitting their immediate, frolicsome pumpings of her bottom and her cunny. Even now their thoughts appeared to have moved elsewhere, for she could already hear the clickings of mallet and ball as they commenced a game of croquet on the lawn.

So, too, did Alice who, having returned, came tripping down, asking whether she might play in the garden, too- though therewith giving her parent an exceedingly searching and much-flushed glance which Eric immediately misunderstood, of course, for he feared that she might know of that which it were better for her not to know.

Receiving therefore his immediate and somewhat confused assent, Alice ran out, leaving Margaret to confront her brother-in-law who was in the act of handing her a glass of the selfsame comforter that he was imbibing.

'Your, er…', Margaret began with wondering amusement.

'My what?' echoed Eric.

Swallowing a little at her own temerity, but emboldened by the events of the day, Margaret approached him more closely and after some evident hesitation on her part whispered, 'The front of your trousers, Eric. They are open. I fear that Alice saw your-er…'

'My what?' jerked a confused Eric and then, glancing down, saw that the faintly-coated knob of his pego was indeed poking impudently out, for in his haste he had quite forgotten to button himself there.

'Your thing', giggled Margaret who had not intended to giggle at all.

'Margaret! Really!'

Turning his back on her, Eric fumbled with his buttons, first issuing one into the wrong hole so that a blush of guilty embarrassment flooded his face.

'My dear, I could not help but say it. How else was I to tell you?' Margaret enquired, holding the rim of her glass to her lips as though to prevent the exit of yet another giggle.-'Young girls are very impressionable, you know, Eric. Such things…'

'My dear, you have no need to emphasise the matter', Eric uttered stiffly while in that moment his eyes wandered to the lithe figure of his younger daughter whom he could see through the window. The sunlight shone through her dress.

'Forgive me!'

Offering a sudden change of mood, which was more contrived than impulsive, Margaret turned her back on him and bowed her head, adding in a low and seemingly quavering tone, 'One becomes lonely sometimes, Eric. Words come to one's lips-thoughts enter one's head. I have never spoken thus before, but when Alice saw it… It was clear to see, you know. Like a bird peeping from a nest. Oh, but I should not have said that either, should I? I will be in disgrace with you forever'.

As it appeared to Eric then, a sob-or what passed for one-came from his sister-in-law whose sumptuous bottom he had in full view.

'That which you had to say, you had to say. If Alice perceived my…'

'Your member?' asked Margaret softly, bowing her head while, with a sense of excited warmth, she felt his arm encircle her waist. One warm and bulbing halfmoon pressed back against his thigh. A quicker breathing sounded from both.-'What thoughts may be in her head now? Oh, Eric dear, how lewd you must think me for saying such, but yours is the first…'

'That Alice has seen?'

The words had escaped Eric's lips before he had thought to speak them.

'Indeed, yes-but the first I have seen for so long. Can you ever forgive me for saying such? My boldness frightens me indeed, and yet…'

'It arises from loneliness-loneliness, Margaret. What is to forgive, my dear? Do not distress yourself. Be comforted', uttered Eric in his newfound wisdom and therewith passing a comforting (if not also exploratory) hand around the protruding nether cheek whose companion moved a little to the pressure of his thigh.-'Perhaps, Margaret, we might retire upstairs and speak of it', he murmured, daring to feel right under her firm derriere at precisely the moment that Vanessa-who had overheard more of the conversation than either would have wished-strode into the room.

'It is I who will arrange such tete-a-tetes. Is it not?' she asked so meaningfully that both flushed and stared at her, while Eric hastily stepped back.

'We were discussing…', he began with wan hope of finding a suitable conclusion to his sentence.

'Arrangements for the night? I have already made such. Are we not civilised? Do we not bring sensitivity to such? I shall spend a while with Margaret first, if I might stay'.

'Oh yes, oh yes, an hour with me-of course!' interjected Margaret who otherwise feared that Vanessa's tongue might run too loose, as indeed did Eric.

'May we drink to that? Shall we drink to that? It is not what people say, but what they do that matters-is it not?"

'My dear Miss Markham, permit me to pour you some wine', stammered Eric.

'I would prefer a sweet liqueur at the moment-just at the moment', Vanessa said and settled herself in a grey armchair with much regal swishing of her skirts.

Just like a queen, thought Margaret with awe, and wondered what the night would really bring.

'I had to come, ma'am. Tried to control them, I did, but there's been ructions. Wants to go back to their cottage, they do, and I has a job to control them and…'