Anonymous - Arabella

“Well, then, I think we shall to bed, Arabella,” then said Selina to my surprise, for it was comparatively early yet. Even so I caught the signals in her eyes and, giving his lordship's pecker a little peck, I rose and went to her.

“But here, I say!” came his immediate and rather plaintive cry.

“Perhaps you would settle Emily down-would you?” Selina asked him beguilingly and then drew me out, suppressing her uprising giggles as best she could. Seeing my expression caused her even more mirth, though being as quick-witted as she, I understood well what was about. Besides, I wanted her and well she knew it. Her room, having a double bed-for the most obvious of reasons- we were soon ensconced naked together between the sheets, our erected nipples rubbing together.

“You thought us all to have an orgy together, of course,” she murmured, “but I am quite sure that Emily would have felt shamed in the aftermath. One must consider the sensibilities.”

“Indeed, one must ever do that. An orgy in such circumstances would have been most unseemly, Selina. Let me tongue you,” I added for good measure, slipping my face down between her lustrous thighs while she jiggled her hips and pressed the moist rolled lips of her quim to my mouth.

“Ooooh, how nicely you do it-give me more-work your tongue,” she moaned while I, manouevring myself sensuously around and slithering all upon her, finally impressed my bottom over her face so that we indulged ourselves in a long and delicious soixante-neuf and in this and various other ways passed the most fulfilling of hours so that the trials of Emily were all but forgotten. Only when we lay at last in liquid languor, having refreshed ourselves through numerous libations so that our bodies throbbed most agreeably, did I remember.

“Shall we go and see if she was well settled?” I murmured while Selina's long eyelashes tickled my cheek and our arms enfolded each other warmly.

“I wonder if we are not all of a kind-you, I and Emily,” responded she obliquely to my question, “for while a good stiff cock is to be savoured at all times, so even more in some respects is a woman's tongue. But yes, let us slip along to her room for a moment.”

So, donning each a light robe, we made our way silently to Emily's bedroom, there to find her lying on her back, naked to her stockings with the bedclothes just below her knees and her eyes closed. Upon our entrance, she opened her eyes, gazed at us in bleary-eyed surprise and then immediately doubled herself up and turned to the wall with a little mewing sound that so caught my heart that I was the first to fall beside her and gather her into my arms. There being but one oil lamp lit, I could yet see and feel the flushed nature of her velvety cheeks. Presenting her bottom to me as she was, I sensed the delicious palpitations she was still evidently experiencing and-passing my hand swiftly under the lustrous cheeks-felt a betraying pulpiness and creaminess all about her cunt.

“Let me feel, too,” laughed Selina softly and, while I withdrew my sticky fingers, felt Emily all about her quim while she squealed softly and attempted feebly to smack our fingers away.

“Oh-oh, do go away-how naughty you both are!” Emily moaned.

“Oh, listen to who is talking! 'Tis you who have been naughty, have you not, and have had the best of it into the bargain. A good spanking, my sweet, is ever the best preparation for young ladies in taking the cock for the first time.”

“I don't know what you mean! Oh go away, do. I hate you, Selina, you know I do.”

“Stuff and nonsense. You love me dearly, as do I you. Give me but one kiss now and you can cuddle your creamy pussy and have a lovely sleep.”

“No-won't, I won't,” mumbled Emily, but having her face turned by Selina and I cuddling her from behind, she surrendered her lips as might a young girl being kissed for the first time. As she did so, I passed my hands up beneath her marbled tits and cupped them fondly. Peaking ardently to my thumbs, her nipples quivered as I caressed them, causing her lips to splurge more fondly beneath Selina's who, sitting upon the rather crowded single bed, leaned over her.

“Was it not nice, being naughty? You have had your legs opened at last and a good stiff cock working in your cunt at last. You see what good my training did for you?”

“D…d…didn't! Oh, the naughty things you say! Go away!”

At that I rose and drew Selina up. “Come-she has had her fill. Let her but dream upon it,” I whispered, to which Selina nodded and drifted with me to the door, casting one look back at Emily who hastily covered herself and turned her face to the wall.

Upon the dark of the landing we stood then for a moment, I casting open my peignoir and pressing my warm belly to Selina's. Our tongues met. Our hands passed beneath each other's moist quims. “How I would have loved to see her bottom bouncing to it,” I murmured thickly. The passion of the dark upon such occasions always arouses me. Our thighs spread lewdly as we caressed one another.

“You shall, my pet, for she will have to be put up to it again tomorrow. You are more sensuous a girl than I have ever known. What delights we shall have!”

All does not always proceed, of course, as one would have it. On the morrow I had cause to return home, for Mama was unwell and Papa was uneasy at my long and constant absences. Being of a tactful and kindly nature, he ventured few questions of me, however, for which I was grateful, giving me pause to consider how different indeed was my own domestic environment from the many I had experienced.

There is naught to be wondered about this, however, as I have long since learned. Each house, each residence, each manor-and indeed each lowly cottage and “model home”-as the phrase now is-becomes unto itself an island to which visitors come and from which they go, their intrusions leaving all unchanged, or slightly changed, or much affected. Within our enclosures we are all as natives who speak a different private language even to that of our neighbours. I have been into many a house where all outside seemed identical or much of a muchness, and yet within there reigned such varying degrees of decorum, dullness, boredom or loose and wanton living such as constantly intrigues and bemuses me.

I would kiss Papa frequently and he me, but never would his hands stray to any part of my person nor mine to his. It is not so much that such acts between us would have been unseemly as merely impossible. Such is my homily, about which I have been given occasionally to philosophising to Pearl.

“Oh, people are different,” is her sole response, and indeed I have good cause to know that there is not much to add to that save by way of extrapolation and repetition. There arose between she and I a private language, if such it may be called. Thus upon sight of a comely young lady one or other of us might say, “There goes a possible one,” or “What a nice bottom she has,” or indeed, “How I would love to take her to bed or have her put to a lusty male.”

Such remarks stirred us constantly, though to the outer world we were but two well-dressed and undoubtedly attractive females who went the ordinary way of the world.

“Tell me then what is sin?” I asked her once.

“Why, that is simple, Arabella, darling. Sin is the causing of pain or grief, mental or physical, to others, by whatever means and in whatever way. That in my simple view is all one can say of it. Naughtiness is not a sin, but is merely mischievous. Do you count us as having committed a sin, or caused such to others?”

I thought deeply upon this question and decided we had not. For this I shall doubtless be labelled by prudes and those of great stuffiness as a hypocrite. So be it. There is a lewdness-a mischief of lewdness-that dwells in all, whether it be the schoolmistress who takes her satisfaction from birching the bottoms of young ladies or the gentleman who merely wishes that he could follow her example but does not dare to. We who obtain the leisure accorded to us by wealth fare better by far than others. The wife left bereft of a husband who has turned to whores descends perhaps into poverty, which I count a most terrible occurrence. Both are at fault, of course, for she knew not how to entertain him, nor he how to be entertained. There is no solace, as I have often heard men declare, in the arms of a gay girl who lives but to fill her purse from each cock she receives. Better a warm hearth and several warm bottoms than a cheerless home or the over-rumpled and generally tawdry bed of a whore.