Anonymous - A Stately English Mansion

'Will you not be quiet, Miss?'

“They'll come down-they'll see us', Bella whimpered while allowing her hips to be raised, and Easton putting one knee up on to the seat of the sofa behind her.

An 'awkward' position is often the more stirring for being so, and Easton rediscovered this as, placing one hand in the small of her back-and remarking to himself how well Bella now bulbed up her derriere-he guided the glowing helmet of his pego into her warm, moist slot, this causing Bella to utter a soft 'OOOH-WOOOH!' which was compounded mainly of pleasure.

Clasping then her hips, Easton screwed his eyes up within the compass of sensations akin to his niece's own and sheathed himself between the spongy walls of her nest as slowly as the illicit circumstances permitted. With a grunt on his part and a moan from Bella, he rooted himself to the full and allowed his balls to dangle under her dark curls.

'There now, is it not nice?' he asked in the manner of one demonstrating something of infinitely greater innocence.

'Yeh-hess', came from Bella whose bottom wriggled a little and then was still, its two warm, bulging halves pressed into his belly.

'I should have fucked you when you were fifteen', murmured Easton almost soulfully.

'Mmmmm… ' came encouragingly from the cushion into which Bella's face was pressed.

'As I am fucking you now, Bella'.

Ah, the magic conjunction of words and deeds, Easton told himself in that stolen moment. His head hung back, his own eyes half closed. Withdrawing half of his steaming tool, he held it so and then caused it to re-enter her sheath and her firmly-fleshed buttocks therewith to slap satisfyingly against him.

'Oh, yes!' Bella whined, though whether in reply to his remarks or his motions mattered not. Vaguely, faintly, he felt the slightly-stinging spattering of her first joyous release of liquid pleasure around his cock and balls, and thereupon began to pump her in earnest while Bella sobbed her sensual enjoyment sometimes coherently and sometimes not.

'My love, my pet, my dove, give it to me!' Easton gurgled as men are wont to do even in the course of receiving it.

'F… f… f…!' stuttered Bella, churning her hips responsively.

'What? Eh? Say it, my love. Ah, what a cunt you have', Easton groaned encouragingly.

'Fu… fu… tuck me!' choked Bella for whom time all but stood still, as indeed it did for her uncle. SLAP-SMACK! her bottom sounded in its bouncing to his stomach, but even through that joyous miasma Easton had to force himself to remember that Ethel or Letitia-or indeed both-might descend at any moment.

'I am… am… c… coming in you, B… Bella!'

'OOOOH!' came her gurgled response. Their hips threshed the more. Her cunny, filled with every inward stroke by his cock, felt its wilder throbbing. Raising her head and dipping her back as Edwina had tutored her to do in such moments of delicious crisis, Bella stilled her own hips and then so employed her newly-learned nutcracker squeeze that her uncle's prick was gripped as in a powerful but cushioning vise while he was yet half-embedded, in mid-stroke.

'B… b… bitch!' Easton's voice rang softly, for he had not counted on such expertise in her as yet.

'Grip them halfway in and you will feel the jets better, Bella', Edwina had advised her. And Bella now did. The first powerful shoot spattered and bubbled against the gripping walls of her nest, and the next, and the next until an unmoving Easton expended his last more feeble urgings which pulsed out in thick droplets, producing from him a shuddering sigh.

Moments later, her dress adjusted and Easton suitably buttoned up once more, the pair separated themselves and relaxed at each end of the couch, their heads back, ears alert for sounds from above that fortunately had not come as yet.

'Perfect! Oh, perfect!' Easton uttered dreamily while Bella bit her lip with pleasure at the accolade. But then, as if the better to adjust themselves to the new moment-and as if indeed in preparation for an interruption-Bella ventured, 'Ethel will learn more with Miss Martin, I suppose'.

Easton opened the eyes he had laxedly closed. The room swam back into his view. Bella was flushed, but otherwise looked exactly as Letitia had left her. Her hair, being tightly pinned, was fortunately not disturbed.

'Yes-as you have done, perhaps', he murmured, enveloped still in the rapture of their passionate coupling.

'Oh! That is naughty!' responded she with a giggle which she immediately suppressed with an upward movement of her hand. Caution was no longer in order with her uncle, as it seemed to her, and besides she sensed that in some extraordinary and unknown way he knew much more than he had hinted at so far.

'Yes', Easton replied simply. His hand reached for her own, clasped it. He played with her fingers. In such moments men tend to be more carelessly romantic than they would otherwise be. Aware of such, Easton nevertheless spoiled himself. In default of the presence of Miss Martin, that of his voluptuous and now very much more satisfactory niece would extend considerable advantages.

'You do not mean it to be, do you?' Bella asked wheedlingly, her smoother fingertips moving back and forth against his own.

'One must learn what one must learn-must one not, Bella?'

Drawing her across to him so that her body slumped, he kissed her juicy lips anew, albeit that in cautious feminine fashion she soon eluded the embrace and moved back again, shaking her head and putting her finger to her lips. Even so, her eyes sparkled quite naughtily, causing Easton to remark to himself-in age-old fashion-that in some matters young females appear to possess greater tact and wisdom than males of twice their age.

Anonymous

A Stately English Mansion

The first entrants to Miss Martin's Academy For Young Ladies, as she had decided to call it, proved to be the daughters of a Vicar of a parish once removed from the Colonel's own. The younger, Maude, was fifteen-her sister, Adelaide, being some eighteen months older.

'Dashed tricky business, being daughters of the Vicar, eh?' the Colonel questioned Miss Martin tentatively, though an eager enough look had come into his eye when the two 'young flowers'-as their future teacher had referred to them-had stood somewhat timourously in her presence, and he observing them through a peephole in the wall that had almost overnight been hastily devised.

“The daughters of a Vicar, my dear-not your immediate and more local one. Remark that point, for it may have significance. Did I not take the precaution of interviewing him first? His eyes remarked the birch-new, supple and well-soaked-that I had placed of a purpose full in his sight, as you well saw, even as you did my little toy, which you made for me', added Miss Martin coyly.

'He did not ask what it was, either', remarked her listener who had, under her instructions, devised what he thought was indeed a toy. For whereas in the past he had himself employed the tip of a crop, or that of a schooling-whip, across a recalcitrant young lady's bottom, Miss Martin had a preference for a more teasing but equally insistent implement. It comprised a score of thin strips of leather, some twenty inches long, which at one end were knotted and, at the other, fastened in a circular bunch to a rod of lesser extent, the 'handle' end of which swelled out to resemble a slender pestle.

“The Reverend gentleman had a very seeking eye, my dear. His fancy took to my plaything, I believe, and he caught on to its purpose quickly enough. Vicarages are dull places, you know, and even duller if there is not some enlivening to be had. As he was careful to explain to me, he has had neither the time nor the opportunity to tend to them in a manner that will cause them not to be too fretful at first. The opportunities that I presented to him, in my most tactful manner, proved fruitful to his ears'.