Anonymous - A Man With A Maid II

The moment my finger touched her lovebutton again, Marion uttered aloud, “Ohh my Lord! Oh, Jack!” in such a tone of panting rapture and wondrous delight that I shuddered with the afflux of an almost overpowering lust. It was as if she had come upon the gates of paradise itself! Flattening that tumescent nodule with my fingertip, I now thrust myself slowly back down into her depths, and even I was not prepared for the convulsive and frenzied clutching of her arms and of her legs, too-yes, her stockinged thighs and calves coiled over me as might the attacking serpents, pinioning me to her with such ardor that my pulses hammered wildly in sheer erotic joy. My lips met hers, and now our tongues had free coming and going, and I felt her fingernails dig into my tensioned back while under my left palm her naked, velvety bottom weaved and lunged and squirmed uncontrollably.

Back I drew again and again to the brink of her sweet cunt, whilst my forefinger prodded and pushed and flattened her stiffening clitoris. Her moans and sobs and whimpering cries were stifled in my mouth as I drank with savoring relish the onomatopoeia of her mounting rapture.

Now I quickened my gait, and my finger furled and pressed and rolled the stiffening little button; and Marion could not control her responses as her climax neared. Her legs threshed round me with their feverish lock, her nails gouged my back, her eyes opened and rolled and glazed, while her tongue slashed and stabbed and daggered at me, as she now seemed to thrust up her pelvis to meet my every down-digging plunge. She began to gasp and groan, and her bubbies wildly surged against my dominating chest, flattening their sweet turrets with such a brash exuberance as to belie completely the formidable prudish countenance she had once put on things… was it centuries ago?

Then suddenly she twisted her face away, her eyes wild and staring. She arched up her loins just as I thrust to the very hilt, and just as my finger thrust and flattened the love button back into its soft, protective cowl of pink love-flesh, Alice’s sister uttered a piercing scream that vibrated in my ears like the heralding of all the angels of heaven: “Ohhh-ahhhhh! Ohhhh, Jack, I am going to die! Oh, Jack, hurry-oh, darling, oh Jack-oh-oh-oh!” And with this she cleaved unto me, our bellies grinding together as I poured forth my last libation of the afternoon and felt it met by the responding torrent of her ecstatic climax-cream.

It was the little death the philosophers write of, and it was renascence for both of us, but most of all for Marion, whose lovely face was contorted in the sweet rictus of passionate fulfillment for what was undoubtedly the first time in all her lovely life.

I let her quit me for a much-needed respite in the bidet, while I put back on my silk dressing gown and poured out two glasses of wine, this time without any addition of cantharides to her glass. Seeing me in my dressing gown, she blushed again, and at once put her hand over her mount, murmuring sweetly, “You have the advantage of me again, Jack, so won’t you let me put back on my things?”

“Not quite yet, my dear, for your beauty should never be veiled and before you leave, I shall certainly wish to bid you a last tender farewell,” I gallantly answered as I handed her her glass. She seated herself on the couch, leaning back, arching out those wonderfully firm bubbies, whose nipples were very definitely darkened and turgified by all the excitement they had met in so short a space of time, concentrated into one afternoon and thus acquiring far more experience within that span than she had known throughout her three years of domesticity.

She looked so naughtily wanton in just her stockings that I could not resist rushing over to salute her on the throat and then on each gorgeous bubbie in turn, at which she actually giggled, then blushed divinely. Nonetheless, she crossed her legs one over the other, letting me admire the play of muscles and the firm swelling contours of her uppermost thigh ,and then, to distract her from self-consciousness, I remarked, “Did you know that Alice has learned from me how to chastise her maid, Fanny, when the latter is impertinent, as she so often is?”

This struck a responsive chord in Marion’s bosom, evidently, for she looked up at me, with those dark blue eyes quite wide with surprise, and shaking her head, replied, “Good heavens, I can hardly believe that, Jack. I have seen Fanny a great deal, as you know, but I never dreamed that my meek little sister could ever dominate her.”

“No, because you were such a past mistress at dominating her yourself,” I chuckled. She bit her under lip at this and glanced down, and I realized I was on a rather touchy subject, so I hastened on: “But it is quite true, and you have only to ask Alice yourself. Why, she has had Fanny here in the Snuggery, and bound her and tickled her and smacked her-and, I might add, loved her.”

“Loved her?” Marion gasped in echo, her eyes wider than ever.

“Why, yes, to be sure. You cannot mean to tell me you have never heard of the art whereby two lovely women can find affection in their own persons?” I chanced.

“No! Assuredly, no. But how can such a thing be?”

Yes, Marion’s sexual education had quite evidently been limited, and apparently it was going to fall to me as her initiator to edify her on many subjects. What a pleasant prospect to have before one!

“Yes, it’s quite common indeed,” I said casually, as I lit a fresh cigar and took a sip of my wine. “There is nothing so strange about it, for it took place thousands of years ago on the Island of Lesbos, when dear Bilitis was the favorite of the priestess Sappho.”

“That is all very well,” Marion primly remarked, “but it tells me nothing, Jack.”

“Is this my former haughty Marion speaking?” I laughed. “Here you are pressing me for the most intimate details and on a still more intimate subject, and only a little while ago you thought me the most contemptible brute and blackguard.”

“Oh, please, do forget that, won’t you, Jack?” she entreated, and she sent me the most exquisitely appealing glance from those lovely blue eyes.

I could not gainsay her now, after she had proved herself so passionately cooperative on the couch of love, and so I went over and kissed her again on the mouth, and I drew her free hand down toward my dwindled prick as a new test of her compliance. To my delight, she did not withdraw her hand or shrink in the least, but instead took hold of my weapon boldly and sweetly stroked the head and felt the balls, which had considerably diminished, as one can imagine.

“Well, now,” I went on as I seated myself beside her, “the fact simply is, Marion, that girls have as much passion as men, as you yourself have just demonstrated so beautifully-”

At this she drew in her breath sharply, and her blushes deepened. It was delightful to see her like this, almost like a virgin.

“And,” I went on as I shifted myself still closer to her, “sometimes some of the bolder and more ardent females even try to duplicate nature by artificial means to make up for the absence of that which you are so delightfully touching now.”

At this she drew her hand away from my cock, but I seized her wrist and drew it back to my cock, for I was beginning to appreciate her caresses. I did not think myself capable of still another spend, for I thought I had given her all my essence, but if we went on this way I could well chance the strenuous taxation on my vigor by assaying further amorous passages with this delectable young woman.

“Whatever do you mean, you wicked man?” she said with another slurred little giggle. “I knew it was a dreadful mistake as soon as I walked into your apartment, and now I am more convinced of it than ever.”