Anonymous: Julie

Behind me, from the other pair, I heard much (as you heard in the meadow, dear), but took no note of that. Murmurings and whisperings reached my ears accompanied by the rustling of a dress that could be none other than Cynthia's. “Repeat what you just told me, Jeannette,”

I murmured. Georges knelt up and left the play to us, though hot-eyed at the sight of her bared thighs again and the stocking tops that rimmed the creamy flesh as tightly as they always should to give allure! “M… M… Madam… to d… d… do everything properly,”

Jeannette repeated, her own eyes aglow with wonder and her fingers gripping me as if protectively. Her teeth chattered a little-I swear they did-as then I pushed her gown up underneath her bottom and displayed her quim-a quim so thickly curled for one who is six months in sight of twenty still! Georges-glancing over his shoulder and both of us hearing a slight bump as Cynthia's bared bottom met the floor-saw what the Minister was at and (as I divined by mere sounds) prepared himself for battle, too. “No! No!” Jeannette skittered, for she sensed his actions, too. I ignored her fretful movements, words, and kissed her all about the neck, her cheeks, her slightly snubby nose, and big wide eyes. My mouth wandered to her mouth and found it soft. How delicious are such fleeting, teasing kisses when both females are coming up on heat! “I shall rise from you, Jeannette, in a moment…” “No, do not!” she whimpered then and clung again. I loosed her arms and heard the whisperings of Cynthia as the Minister went down upon her, cock to cunny warm. “You will be caressed first. Use your tongue, your fingers and your eyes, as I have taught you, Jeannette.” I was up at that and Georges with quite a growl upon her, feeling up her legs. Her back arched and she gasped a long-drawn “Oh!” “Jeannette!” I barked. She stared at me beyond his shoulder and lay still. Her lovely legs moved restlessly. With febrile, uncertain puttings of her hands to his shoulders, she turned her face away with cheeks ablaze and stared into the back of the chaise longue. “Slowly, Monsieur, she is a treasure among treasures,” I remarked and deigned to turn a moment and look down on the Minister, whose engine was chugging in dear Cynthia's tunnel. She, the cooler of the pair, could well look after herself and her own pleasures now, I knew, and so gave my attention quickly to my protege, as I was pleased to think of Jeannette. Her tight round bottom wriggled uneasily at first as first his fingers burrowed in her fur.

Evidently, though, he found her spot, for her expression changed. Her mouth took on a sullen, hungry look. “Spread your thighs more, Jeannette,” I ordained. Still staring in the opposite direction, to the wall, she let one elegant leg go lax and slip beneath her fathers to the floor so that her foot just touched it and her shoe was arched.

A snuffling through her nostrils then as an excitation in her grew.

Her tummy rippled and her fingers clawed a little at his shoulder blades. I, acting a love-nanny to her, bent upon the flushed pair once more and worked her dress up just beyond her tits that he might suck on them. He did! Once more her back was arched-again her moans! “Do not, do not-no, mustn't!” so she hummed, but only from a habit rather than conviction, so I felt! Her nipples rosy, stiff, he moved his lips up to her face and murmured to her incoherently. His trousers being doffed by then and puddled on the floor beside the couch, his penis beat its urgency against one milky thigh. “No, no-oh, no!” she mewed, though not with very much conviction.

“Wait, Monsieur, raise yourself a little. Jeannette, give me your hand,” I murmured while the bumping pair upon the carpet hissed their pleasure. “Noooo!” she whimpered, but I took it all the same, limp as it was, and guided it down, down, until her fingers touched against his prick. They lay there flaccid, then I smacked her arm, and then she gripped it, causing him to groan! “Still slowly, still slowly, Monsieur!” I urged, “and now, Jeannette, your tongue. Extend your tongue a little-offer it!” Kissing her neck as he then was and she holding upon the great stalk of his penis, Jeannette slowly turned her face upwards to mine, lips lax, eyes pools of wonder (or astonishment?!). “Do it, Jeannette. I shall then put out the light.” “Oh!” she moaned, though as you well know, Caroline, such is a sound beyond description-what you have often called “a little wobbly sound!” A great sigh issued from her lips, but then I saw her fingers move a little up and down his prick. Her cunny almost bubbling as it must have been, how could she for much longer contain herself? A short, pink stamen of her tongue protruded then and sullenly-or was it in a daze!-she slipped her mouth sideways beneath his own and their tongues met. Ah, how a visible quiver seized them both! I watched their little jerks that came in unison, then melted into one. He rolled upon her more, his penis ready, the plumlike bulb upon her belly pressed just where her pubic curls began. “Say yes, say yes, Jeannette!” he pleaded. All then was still for a moment. Gurgles, moans, came upwards from the floor-the slapping of the Minister's testicles beneath Cynthia's derriere. “Say yes or no, Jeannette-it is for you to speak now,” I whispered, for I wished to give her leeway just in this! She had not struggled overmuch, lay placid, waiting to be spermed, I knew, despite her palpitations, small alarms. The prodding monster of his cock now urged her on to this surrender, the crest quivering on her belly in delight. I moved, moved suavely to the light and turned it down until the gaslight all but flickered out and a semi-dusk of mystery was laid upon the room.

My absence for those seconds seemed to help. He had whispered something in her ear. I heard her little mewing cry, “Yes, yes, all right-yes, put it in-ooh!-oh!- PAPA!” Her cunnylips had yielded to his knob at last and, as I fell beside them once again upon my knees, she yielded inch by inch. I peered between them in the soft, dim light and watched his rigid penis delving in, the burrowing master of her fate that grooved its course between her sealskin walls and with a final jolt was full embedded to an “AH!” from her. My dearest, you will understand that the rest was such a melange of rising passion as even I cannot describe-nor even you, perhaps! The bout upon the rug was finished. Those two actors lay inert while Cynthia squeezed upon a dwindling cock. The creme de la creme was there, upon the chaise longue, underneath my eyes. “Jeannette! You are so tight, my pet!” “Am I?” Their voices sounded as if in some far dream. Some words were plain, lewd, passionate, and others lost between their hungering mouths. Her breath hissed out again. I knew her to be coming. Her once-limp leg that had lolled down at the side of the chaise longue was raised (by her!) and coiled his waist like a stockinged serpent of desire. “F… f… fucking you!” he groaned; she gasped out “Yes!” as if they had both each just discovered it! I left them to their play. Can you believe it? But yes, I did. I motioned my other players up. Awed and excited their glances fell upon the enlaced and heaving pair, and then they shuffled out, the Minister still holding up his trousers! I guided them to that small room where pupils sometimes take a little rest between their lessons. “Bid goodnight to him, Cynthia. A perfect pet you've been. I shall return, Monsieur, with your companion in due course to see you out.” “Yes,” he replied, and sounded like a frog. I closed the door and heard a giggle from dear Cynthia, who had become of a sudden much, much more advanced, but that is to the good. She will not fret nor struggle any more! I delayed my return to Georges and Jeannette until I thought them “decent” once again.