Anonymous - A Man With A Maid II

I heard her sigh and saw her blush more deeply. At last she turned her face toward me, her eyes shimmering with a lovely light through those penitential tears. Her lips trembled as if to speak, and then she glanced down at her slim hand, which was still lying atop my cock, and she gave a little gasp of “Ohhh, how wicked I have suddenly become, and it’s all your fault, sir!”

I laughed aloud in my joy at seeing her thus happily reconciled to destiny, and I said, “Sweet Marion, give me your lips and let us seal our bargain, our past of peace and companionship henceforth.”

She smiled then and nodded, and then my mouth was on hers, gently at first, until I felt the soft, moist petals quiver in acquiescence, and very delicately I advanced the tip of my tongue to hers. She quivered and moaned a little, and her fingers squeezed very slightly my now invigorated cock. Correspondingly, my left hand tightened on the soft thrust of her bubbie, my fingertips brushing the sweet, softly crinkly bud until I felt it turgify. And now my right hand, which had been dallying so gently and lingeringly over first one stockinged thigh and then the other, boldly marched along the bare olive-sheened skin towards the furry nest between them. With my forefinger, I began to tickle the lips of Marion’s soft, moist and quivering cunt.

As she felt that titillation she groaned a little, and then her arms flung round me and locked me to her as she sank back on the cushions, and the shifting of her beautiful naked body granted me total access to her most secret charms. My forefinger unhesitatingly moved back to find that lodestone of her being, the crux and kernel of all her womanhood. And very gently I began to rub the dainty button of sweet love-flesh, while my tongue foraged more audaciously still inside her nectared mouth.

When at last I released her lips she was panting and sighing, her thick lashes fluttering wildly, incontrovertible proof that she was withholding nothing from me now and that all hostility and mistrust had vanished. Exultance filled me, along with eager lust, to know that I had not only de-pedestalled Marion from that lofty and unattainable peak of hatred and contempt but brought her to the warm ebullience of communal passion.

“You are not afraid of me any longer, my darling Marion?” I whispered.

She shook her lovely head, closing her eyes and lowering her head demurely.

“Good! Now, since I have taken such liberties with your person, it is only fair that you should take equal freedom with mine,” I told her. “Explore with that sweet hand and learn the nature of this instrument which rises to your command and droops at your neglect. Constate its powers and its deliverance from ennui and frustrating frigidity. Touch it where and as you will, and learn its portents for that happiness to which nature destined you in giving you so delicious a body-yes, and so sweet and hot and tight a cunt in which to accept my willing weapon!”

She kept her face averted, but nonetheless the lovely brunette began hesitantly and shyly, like a new bride on her eve of wakening, to graze and tickle, to press and squeeze, to explore, to observe the dimensions of my now thoroughly erect phallus.

Her touch was velvety and soft and quivering, perhaps subtly different from Alice’s, and so the more enjoyable because of that delicious difference. She was perhaps more inquisitive because, older, she had denied herself so long and been denied in turn by that wretched Harry, to whom I daresay I should be heartily grateful; had he not withered the sprouts of affection in her voluptuous form, I might this afternoon have had no such triumph, a greater one than I had first envisioned when I had first lured her into my Snuggery.

“You must touch my balls too, Marion darling,” I instructed her, “for these are the sacks which contain the balm and the balsam of intense pleasure, a panacea to the most reluctant, the driest, the most frigid cunt.”

“Is-is that what you call my s-s-spot?” she naively queried, while her cheeks and throat and forehead flamed at her own sweetly scandalous obscenity. I observed the quivering curve of her red, moist lips as she said that naughty, image-provoking word, and my pulses leaped in salacious ecstasy.

“Yes, my dear Marion, that and ‘pussy’ and ‘cunny’, too. The more imaginative the lover, the more descriptive his names for that temple of Venus, that grotto of all delight, that haven of exquisite repose and languishing fulfillment.” I spoke in a mellow and poetic tone, to bring her still further from that pathway of guilty prurience which one finds in those of little imagination who still believe that the art of fucking should be under a cloud, in the dark and secretive and sinful.

Her fingertips grazed my balls, and they throbbed and ached, telling me that they still contained the wherewithal to offer tribute to my newly acquired mistress. All this while, my finger was touching her clitoris, though I had not been too active, so as not to bring her too quickly to climax. I wished that climax to be shared with me, to seal the bond infrangibly between us. For once thoroughly appeased of all her secret ardors, my beautiful sister-in-law to be would not again hold me in contempt or deem me guilty of insufficient homage to her charms.

But her sweet cunt was moistening, and the love-juices which had been gathering for so long were now readily appearing as Nature graciously showed my beautiful black-haired inamorata the felicitous bounty which comes only with candor and honesty in the way between a man and a maid.

She no longer clutched her thighs so perilously tight, and though her muscles shivered and flexed as I brushed the tender lodestone inside her temple, Marion in no way withheld herself. Once again I kissed her, and this time my tongue was met by her, with a little moaning sigh that welcomed me to take the amorous initiative, knowing it would be met and abetted by my beautiful partner. I left off touching her clitoris to rim the twitching inner lips of her cunt with the tip of my forefinger, and they were swollen and moist with the sweet cream of this prelude to bliss.

“Will you love me now, dear Marion?” I murmured, for now I meant to give her the choice, to let her see she was no longer the slave but freest of lovers, and I waited impatiently to learn whether she had profited by this lesson in the strategy of courtship and of fucking, between prick and cunt, between man and maid.

Oh, how well she had! With a little cry, she flung both her arms around me and dragged me down upon her, my chest mashing down the heaving goblets of her bubbies, and her tongue rapiered its way into my own eager mouth. Our tongues thus commenced a friction that was a portent of that greater and more glorious friction soon to be effected between us. I fitted myself to her, and my cockhead rubbed her inner thigh and then prodded at the gates of her domain, imploring entrance. With another little moan of acquiescence, she squirmed a bit, as if to make room for me, and with a shout of joy I felt the tip of my spear probe easily now into her moistened cunt, and as my hands slipped under her bottom to hold her tightly, I felt myself press forward into that gloriously tight channel to the very hilt.

She groaned, her eyes closed, her nostrils flaring wildly, as I slowly drew myself back to the gateway of this paradise of pussy, only to sink back as slowly again till I was buried again to my balls. Her buttocks jerked against my grasp, and their contractions told me there need be no more words between us, only sweet fucking.

Now, withdrawing my right hand, I edged it between us, and my forefinger once more sought the button of Marion’s clitoris, as I drew back from that charming nook which held my cock so snugly. Indeed, if I was any judge, Marion’s cunt was equally as tight as sweet Alice’s, which was not surprising since, despite three years of conjugal union to the dolt Harry, she was herself truly a virgin to fucking.