Anonymous - Julie

“Let us be frank, Messieurs. It is by no means unusual for gentlemen such as yourselves to experience a state of arousal when finding themselves cloistered with so many adorable girls. As for my pupils themselves, they too experience all sorts of fancy desires when shielded as they are from male company. Hence Sylvia's letter, which, I must admit, I found not entirely unexciting. Did you not?” I asked, addressing myself to Horace. In so speaking, I rose and brushed myself as though by accident against the rigid pole in Horace's trousers. He blushed profusely. “Ah, yes!” he gasped as though possessed.

“Then so be it,” I declared, “for I see you are both in a fine state to refresh at least two of my beauties.” Sounds emitted themselves from both their throats which might best be described as gargles. Their minds had been all but fully taken over by the swelling of their balls and the maddened state of their pricks. Smiling my assent at both, I went to the door and beckoned those who waited. From an adjoining room along the corridor came Alison, attired as had been Blanche, save for the fact that she wore no drawers. Being a shade tallish she looked to my own faintly disturbed eyes (for you know, dear Caroline, what a penchant I have for nubile maidens, just as you have too) like a veritable Princess. Her proud tits bounced, their nipples fiercely erect. Guided along by Monica and Blanche, the eyes of Alison looked clouded, as indeed they might, for during all that had taken place in my drawing room, the sweet girl had been caressed and feather-tickled to distraction, having been cajoled to this by Sylvia herself. Tight frilly garters banded the sleek tops of her stockings. Her boots-knee-high-were of a fancy variety with gold inlaid into the fine scrolls that decorated them. With each step she took and with every parting of her robe, the dark bush of her quim showed itself plump and proud. And-I have no doubt-expectant!

Alison's now vibrant curves literally quivered as I stepped outside briefly and enfolded her in my arms, palpitating the tight half-moons of her naked bottom. “You will do your duty, my love, for the sake of us all- and for that of your own future,” said I. She swayed against me and uttered some soft sound that had no outward meaning save to show that she was by then submissively desirous, for so skillful had her “attendants” been that they had time and again brought her to the point of liquid delight and then on each occasion left her yearning for fulfillment so that her whole body was ablaze.

She was-as might be put- cock-ready. Taking her arm, I led her in and held her with her wrists lightly behind her back so that she was made to face her guardian and Sylvia's Papa. In such relatively small interval as they had had, each had stripped quickly to his shirt and showed his penis proud. At the sight of his ward-her titties, belly, bush, all bared-the face of her guardian became even more rubicund. A low moan issued from Alison. Her head sank back on to my shoulder. “You have not seen her before thus?” I mocked Horace.

Utterly beside himself with lust, he stepped forward. “Give… give her to me,” he gritted. I laughed. I could not help myself. The scene was utterly bizarre and yet with the help of my friendly aphrodisiac could easily be repeated with others and in other circumstances. “You shall have her. Your cock may work back and forth in her cunny until you have both come. Thereafter she will be your mistress and share your fortune. That is understood? Remember that I am witness to this.” “No!” moaned Alison softly, though without too much conviction. After all the delicious caresses that had been afforded her with tongues and fingers and feathers, she would come at the first touch of his knob to her lovelips. “It shall be as I say, Alison. You will benefit in future each time you lower your drawers to him-and that entirely at your own discretion. Come, lie on the couch and spread your legs. Be bold and wriggle your bottom well.”

“I must, I must…” she began even as I gently steered her there. She intended, I swear, to utter, “I must not.” Her rogue of a guardian, however, gave her no time to conclude her faint protest. All but thrusting me aside as we neared the brocaded edge of the sofa, he was upon her. A low cry came from Alison. In falling, her legs opened and raised themselves. Such lovely long legs they are as well-as I would have wished you to see! A distinct smacking sound of their bodies meeting echoed in the room. With a growl of desire he was between her thighs. Her lovelips, moist and petulant, appeared to open like the petals of a rose to the helmet of his charger, which, being so fearsomely stiff, needed no guiding in. The succulent mouth received his swollen knob. Alison's arms flailed. Her limbs remained open in a wide Vee as she received the sturdy plunging of his enraged penis between the silken walls of her slit. So well prepared had she been for such endeavour that it appeared to take but two seconds for his erection to sheathe itself completely. Her hands clawed the air and then settled on his broad back. Her fingernails dug into his shirt, impressing themselves sharply, as I felt, into his skin beneath. “My god!” he choked. “Mooo-hoooo!” Alison moaned and bucked her bottom as though to swallow into her honeypot the last half inch of his throbbing tube. So frenzied was he that Horace forgot even to kiss her and nibbled passionately at one ear-lobe as her quim tightened on him and expended its first juices. “HAAAR!” Alison shuddered and knotted her calves up over the hips of her unexpected stallion. Their loins heaved madly. A distinct squelching sound was heard! All this, as I say, taking place in but a few blinkings of the eyes, I felt a groping at my bottom and turned about from the enlaced, heaving pair just in time to prevent Sylvia's father from hauling up my skirt. As though defensively, I seized his rampant prick and felt its mighty throbbing in my palm. “M… M… Madame!

Permit me!” he groaned, whereat, on a perfect cue (Blanche having been listening at the door), the room was invaded of a sudden by Sylvia, who had no doubt needed to have been urged and thrust within. She, too, wore a floating robe, her stockings, bootees, and no drawers. The door slammed behind her so that she fell against it and gaped with seeming wildness at what she saw. Utterly closed off from the world by their unbidden passion, Alison and her guardian bucked and thrust and threshed in a perfect harmony of aroused desire. Had the roof fallen in they would not have noticed it. His balls slapped against the underside of her bottom, which reared to him at every urging-in of his pego. Their mouths were locked. Their tongues worked.

Still grasping the equally entranced member of Sylvia's Papa, I gazed at her as if in surprise at this interruption. The sight of what I was holding appeared too much for her. She swayed back and forth even as he croaked out her name in whatever anguish he then felt, whether it were of lust or dismay. “Oh, Papa!” uttered Sylvia and slumped slowly to the floor. To all intents and purposes, she had fainted, and swore afterwards that she did, but I believed her not.

Her head bumped a trifle on the carpet and then she lay still, legs parted just enough for him to see the crown of her glory with its bush of curls and saucily peeping lips. “S… s… syl-vee-aaah!” he moaned. Her eyes distinctly opened, for she lay some six feet from him and, in her prone position, had a very superior view indeed of the size and rigidity of his tool, which I managed to display to her as much as possible with the purplish head of his cock nuzzling out from the side of my clasping hand. A slight movement of my palm beneath the veined surface of his penis and he began to come. His knees sagged, as did his jaw. His come arced thickly into the air, noble and glutinaceous in its passage, directing its passage towards Sylvia's neatly-shod feet, though of course it did not reach them but plopped down on the intervening surface, to be followed immediately by another and another-all the while his thick pego pulsing madly in my hand as it discharged its first load. Half behind me then, a bellow sounded from Horace as he in turn performed the climax of his first major duty in respect of Alison, who-by a quick glance over my shoulder-was, I saw, still clinging beneath him blindly and seesawing her bottom to his spurting thrusts. “Blanche!” I called out sharply while yet the thick drops continued to pearl from the prick of Sylvia's Papa. Blanche entered and, appearing dismayed at the prone form of her friend, bent her knees and raised and shook her so that Sylvia's eyes opened wide again and she and her sire stared at one another as if in a trance. Then, stumbling to her feet and being much assisted, she was led out. Horace had come fully and was prone upon his ward. Her cunny frothed its pleasure around the half-embedded shaft that now grew limp but would not so remain for long. Sylvia's father, loosed from my admittedly guiding hand, tottered backwards and sank into a chair. A sniffling and snuffling sound came from the pair on the couch. The insides of Alison's thighs moved sleekly and encouragingly against the tree-trunks of his own. I could not see her face, which was hidden by his own. A throaty murmur came from him. I heard her whisper “Yes.” His buttocks tightened, his loins twitched.