Helena Robertson - Miss M…

But she soon got another idea… As they thought that the weather was delightful, she proposed to carry some cushions by the window, and they all sat on the ground, facing the sea… She then cleared the glass table, feeling if it was solid, and then sat on it, avoiding to have her skirt under buttocks. Her flesh was in contact with the cold mirror. She crossed her legs, and the skirt was lifted over the knees… Monique was slightly reclining, her hands on the table… Smoking an oriental cigarette. Under the skirt, the closed thighs, half leaning on the table, were reflected in a symphony of blacks and whites…

The men, facing her now, were looking at the silk clothed flesh, and the little bar of the garters, on each side of her thighs. Little by little, Monique opened her legs, slowly displaying for them the inside of her highs and its reflexion. Through the screen of her eyelashes she was following the eyes of the men, impatiently waiting for the moment when the com ass of her legs will be open largely enough to allow a complete vision of her sex. Out of fun, she moved her knees very slowly, the suddenly she bent on one side, to put the ashes of her cigarette in an ashtray, on the table by her side, she opened her legs completely, uplifting one for more security. She remained like that for a good moment, excited by the sudden density of the silence, and also by the caress of all the looks that she knew were one her legs, on her sex… The men's throats were hard and dry… their eyes shining… They were contemplating, under the relative shelter of the black skirt, higher than the black silk stockings and the garters, between the plump and pulpy thighs, the fair hair of her pubis, as a crown on her cunt little closed mouth between the lips of her mount of Venus. The mirror was reflecting it too, and the men were facing a twin image… Monique innocently resumed a more natural position. Then tactfully started again answering the questions in the discussion trying to avoid the looks of the men on her anatomy… Including Max's… Then once again she opened her legs and played with the men's desires for several times… Max himself did not know what to think about the Monk's attitude, the were excited but nothing was happening.

Monique got up, and once again served some alcoholic beverages… At each time she was revealing her charms in the mirror of the table. A lusty ambiance was beginning to come in the darkening room. The sunset was giving strange red lights that accentuated the voluptuous character of the place… and of what happening and going to happen in it.

One of the monks clumsily spoiled his white dress with liquor…

“Monique, would you please show our friend to the bathroom and with your fairy fingers repair that little damage…”

“Of course… Please father, follow me.”

The stairs are dark… And Monique does not turn the light on. She climbs the steps slowly, side by side with the monk… He takes her by the arm… His hand shaking with desire:

“What a charming guide you are for such an escalade…”

She laughs softly… And through the dark and narrow passage, brings him in the bathroom. She turns the lights on, and easily with some water, fixes everything alright. He is blushing, his desire is evident, but he does not know what to say. Everything is silent the go out. She turns the lights off, and they are together again in the dark corridor.

“Damn it, says Monique, I do not know where the button to get the light is hidden…”

“I know it… says the man by her side…”

And his hands is on the blouse… He takes the young girl in his arms, and, through the thin material caresses the nipples, already erected.

“Oh… says Monique, indignated… No… You should not, it is wrong, you must lot, leave me alone…”

But she does not really resist when the two nervous hands lift her cardigan up, and free the two breasts… A warm breathing on her skin… A mouth that seizes her nipple… An intense sucking… Monique protests a little bit, just for decency's sage… and let the hands that have already lifted the skirt high above the waist, caress the buttocks and then the belly, the crotch. She pushes away from him.

“No… Not that… you are exciting me… and what would Darcourt say?…”

She takes him back to the sitting room, and leaves enough disorder in her attire so that everyone will understand… her breast are lubrically pointing under the cardigan. She serves some more liquor while the two monks are speaking confidentially together.

Shortly afterwards, the other monk, taking a avantage of the fact that Max is showing some drawing to his colleague, asks Monique to show him to bathroom… They have hardly reached the stairs, that she feels two hands caressing her bottom, uplifting her skirt… And a mouth glues to her flesh, in long warm kisses. She lets the man take her in his arms, and the cardigan is rolled around her neck, two hands are caressing the opulent teats… Soon after it is a mouth that sucks at her nipples.

Once again, her buttocks are receiving the caresses from nervous hands. An inquiring finger is titillating her asshole while a penetrating forefinger seeks at her sex… She feels suddenly under her hand, along her body, that the monk is placing his erected prick… She takes the shivering rod between her fingers and caresses the tool while the man masturbates her passionately.

The monk suddenly glues his belly to hers, and tries to insinuate his prick between her legs…

“No, no, not that… I am a virgin…”

He stops, surprised, and his fingers checks that revealed particularity… She twists surprised by that unexpected contact, and she turns around… He leans her against the wall and suddenly she feels, to her surprise, the prick sliding between the globes of her buttocks, like plough… She feels the hard texture of that musculous flesh… He whispers ardent words by her ear, one of his hands caressing her breasts, and the other one alternating between her ass, and her sex…

“Let me slide in you… Just a little, nothing… Yes, just a little…”

She shakes her head…

“No, leave me alone… Are you insane?… No…”

But she desires to be ass-fucked by that man who does not seem to be really master of his senses. She tries to move away, and only succeeds in presenting her teats to him…

He immediately sucks greedily at the nipples… While he caresses her, he places his prick between her fingers. She enjoys caressing that hard and soft flesh… She presses the cylinder and caresses the round head, she feels the pulse in it… The balls are round and full, the air hard and curly… She feels desire in her veins… If he could only guess it… He becomes demanding, bends to suck some more at the tense flesh of her bosom. The prick slides away from the finger's embrace and that breaks the enchantment… All of a sudden she is ashamed, and she fixes her dresses… He follows her downstairs, in silence.

In the sitting room, nobody is paying attention to them, but at a glance at Max, she realizes that he was not expecting them that soon… She is disappointed, and nervous she does not serve properly, and soon she breaks a glass, and answer Max's reproach very roughly…

Then everything moves fast, like in a dream… She sees the room turn upside down, feels Darcourt's arm around her waist, and then she felt Max's powerful thighs paralyzing her, and her skirt lifted up. Her bottom was revealed in the sunset light… The two monks were staring at the offered bottom, the closed thighs, and the propped buttocks. Already she was slapped on her fanny… She moaned and cried, was it pain? shame? pleasure? or merely surprise? She never knew it…

“No… No, not that, Darcourt… Are you out of your head?”

But he would not listen to the young girl's supplication, and would go on with his spanking of her rotundities… Oh it was not a hard one… He did not want to hurt her… but simply to bring her to that state of excitement that he knew so well, so that she would become his thing, and also his guests thing-He did not know whether she would let foreign pricks penetrate that perfect bottom, but he wanted his guests to take, at least intellectually, pleasure in contemplating her delicate charms… And the slapping went on, only punctuated by her cries and the sights of desire of the men, contemplating that beauty maintained between Max's knees.