Eroticon Heat

by J. P. Spencer

  'Lick within also!'

  Her muffled assent came to me. I sank down slightly in the chair and eased my bottom forward. Her hands cupped the naked cheeks but she made no attempt to draw them apart.

  I murmured and twisted. Her tongue licked and lapped, sometimes darting within my folds like a warm snake and, at the others, twirling about my pleasure bud. Swirling mists of desire seized me. Ideas I had never entertained before spilled in my head.

  'Faster! Lick faster!'

  I was coming already. Delicious spasms seized me. The skin of my belly rippled. Straightening my legs forward over her bowed shoulders I spilled a fine, salty rain over her tongue and lips and heaved my bottom frantically. No man's tongue would be as subtle or agile as this. The pleasures of Lesbos - those with which I had but briefly flirted - captivated me as surely as that greedily darting tongue. Bubblings of delight came from my mouth. A second spasm shook me and I again inundated her mouth. Then I quivered and lay still.

  Releasing my legs from her shoulders gently, Madame Dalmaine rose to her feet. For a second or two I seemed not conscious of my surroundings, then I came to myself and sat up. I knew not whether to be pleased or cross with her at her impertinence. Perhaps something of this showed in my expression, for she stepped back and thrust down her own skirts. The slightly submissive gesture pleased me. Having ravished me, she was experiencing some doubt and shyness.

  I rose. Her eyes implored me. I embraced her. My lips tasted the musky salty taste upon her own.

  'Did I not give Mademoiselle pleasure?'

  For a moment I did not answer. I placed my hands upon her hips and felt their fullness. Still unspeaking I moved them about to feel the undoubted moon of her bottom. The cheeks were firm and resilient and not over-large.

  'I shall see you again.'

  I maintained an evenness of tone that would leave her in some little wondering. She had pleasured me more than she knew. I re-entered the atelier and there found Emma waiting in some dismay at my absence. I spoke to Dalmaine.

  'I have ordered a pair of long boots from your wife.'

  'Yes, Mademoiselle.'

  He affected, too, not to see my wedding ring which I had forgotten to remove, as I had intended to do for my own purposes.

  'I shall return for a fitting in two weeks.'

  The carriage awaited us still. I entered before Emma who seated herself with bright cheeks beside me. It was evident that she was choking to say something.

  'Oh, Eveline, that man - he felt my thighs!'

  My expression did not alter. I had had my own felt in a wise she would know little about. A warm moisture lingered about my cunny still. It was an experience I intended to renew.

  'I am sure he had need to, Emma. Did you order some nice boots?'

  'Oh yes - two pairs of black and two of brown.'

  'Well, then, you are content. I am sure your Papa will be quite busy in town, Emma. I shall escort you myself on your errands. This afternoon we shall order some little corsets for you - just for your waist, of course, so that you are fully tightened. It displays your hips and bottom better.'

  Her blush amused me. Perhaps it was the first real moment of interest that I showed in her. The word 'bottom' was evidently considered impolite, which surprised me. Rural folk are often coarser than town people. They observe more frequently the farm animals and their couplings. We lunched at the house alone. I saw to it that Emma took rather more wine than she would otherwise have done. It would loosen her a little from her rather prim and affected manner.

  By three-thirty we had entered a discreet little establishment just off Regent Street. I had learned of it vaguely from one of Lord Endover's female friends. The most delicate and fetching of waist corsets were made there, she had said.

  The entrance was but a vestibule. Within it stood a small showcase displaying three extremely pretty corsets in white, black, and rose-pink. Another door of frosted glass faced us and there we entered, to be received by a gentleman of somewhat military appearance and elegant attire. The small reception room was otherwise empty. Emma stood behind me. No doubt the fact that M. Dalmaine had felt her thighs had made her nervous.

  'The ladies wish to be measured?'

  I afforded him a slightly frosty look. 'There is no female assistant present?'

  'Alas, Madame, no. Both our ladies are unfortunately indisposed. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Clarence Partinger, the designer of such poor articles as we sell.'

  His manner amused me. His voice was graceful but clipped. The small moustache he affected suited him, as he did the cravat he wore which was tucked neatly into his puce waistcoat.

  'I fear, sir, it would be improper for us to be measured by a gentleman. We shall return another time. Come, Emma.'

  'Madame!'

  His voice sounded fraught. I turned.

  'There is no need for you, Madame, to remove your attire. I have but to take three measurements and with these I can make my estimates. Having then chosen your styles, you and your companion may return for a proper fitting with one of our ladies.'

  I read his eyes too well even though he endeavoured to cloud his expression.

  'Very well - if it is as simple as that. My cousin and I are of the same size, hence you have only need to measure me.'

  He bowed. Emma took a chair and picked up a copy of the Englishwoman's Domestic Magazine. Guided by my host I entered another room which was literally walled with ornately framed mirrors. To one side were more display cases revealing what seemed to me to be even smaller corsets. Along an opposite wall was a couch covered in red velvet. It had a somewhat used look. Mr Partinger took up a tape measure. I raised my arms.

  'The first measurement, Madame, around your waist. Ah! How delightfully slender it is! Now a trifle higher - so. And for the last, if Madame will permit...'

  His hands flirted now beneath my breasts. They moved higher. A caressing movement caused my nipples to erect.

  'Sir, is this necessary?'

  'The buttons, Madame, they worry me a trifle. Were I to be allowed to unfasten them a little...'

  'As you wish.'

  I could see all in the mirrors. His cheeks grew flushed as he unfastened my bodice. The orbs of my breasts rose defenceless to his hands. Standing behind me as he was I felt a distinct projection in his breeches. A trifle indelicately I moved my bottom against it.

  'And now, if Madame will please turn.'

  I did so. We stood literally face to face. My dress was now unfastened to my waist. The rosy buds of my nipples were as stiff as thorns.

  'You beautiful girl! What a superb figure! What legs, what a bottom, you must have! Black will suit you best. One of the smallest and tightest of my creations - a lacy frill to hide your pretty navel, but no more than that below. You should not wear drawers, of course, with such a corset. The long black straps reaching down to your stocking tops will frame your treasures divinely.

  'I do not wear drawers.'

  The words appeared to act upon him as an invitation. Gathering up my skirts so suddenly that I had no time to resist, he feasted his eyes upon all, right up to the junction of my thighs. A tremulous cry escaped me. Making as if to fall I seized his member which was all but starting out of his breeches.

  'Ah sir, it is I perhaps who should measure you!'

  His rude hands fondled the pert cheeks of my bottom, the skin glossy and warm to his fervent touch. I parted my thighs a little to steady myself. I felt in danger of falling. Of a sudden his hand cupped my mount. The moisture and the curls apparently delighted him. Our lips met.

  'Measure it you shall, but in the proper place.'

  Before I knew it I was lifted and carried to the couch. I knew now why there was a single indentation in the velvet, halfway along the seat. Many a female bottom must have been laid there.

  'Sir! My companion! She waits for me!'

  'The measurement will take but a minute. What divine thighs! What coral lips between! Lay your legs well open!'

&nbs
p; 'Sir, you affront me!'

  I lay back. My stockings tops, my thighs, my treasure pot, my uncovered breasts - all were in evidence. Kneeling over me between my legs he uncovered his member in a flash. Its size was impressive, its stiffness undoubted.

  I moaned and tossed as befitted my apparent coyness. He descended upon me. The swollen nut brushed my curls. Retracting a little it brushed my clitoris. As if frettingly I tossed my hips and endeavoured to evade his kisses. His palms descended upon the tops of my thighs, laying them flat and drawing them wider apart.

  'Now you may measure!'

  'Ah! One inch! Two, three, four! Oh sir!'

  Truly he was within me. I had counted well. The swollen flesh of his tool throbbed in my being. Our tongues met in salute at the delicious sensation.

  'Five inches! AH! Six - nay, seven! OH! You are filling me! No more!'

  'Work your bottom - dig your heels into the couch!'

  A further invasion of his hefty plug. He was almost in me to the root. Our tongues threshed. I moaned my pleasure. With a final brief lunge he swung his balls against my bottom and gripped me tight.

  'How many?'

  'Nine! Ah sir, you are well furnished. Withdraw and let me test the length of it again!'

  Moving with steady strokes he caused me exceeding pleasure. The old couch creaked as no doubt it had done many times before. Emma was all but forgotten in our transports. The oily lips of my slit gripped upon him greedily. I longed to feel his effusion but wished not to hasten it.

  'What a perfect mount you are! How deliciously the curls of your pussy rub and tickle! Press your belly up to me tighter and coil your legs about my waist!'

  'The things you would have me do! You must inject me quickly or my cousin may interrupt us. What would you do then - raise her skirts in turn?'

  'My God, yes! How wonderful to have you both together.

  AH! You are coming - I can feel it! What liquid bliss - you are soaking my balls!'

  My lips moaned beneath his. Dearly as I wished to express my most erotic thoughts I held myself in check. His cock sluiced me superbly. A gigantic quiver seized him. I tightened my stockinged legs about his waist. His balls made a loud smacking sound against my bottom. I was in ecstasy. My belly tingled with the oncoming of a further crisis. Even as he spilled the first jets of his sperm I anointed his indriving knob with my salty sprinkles. The couch was wet beneath me. His spermatic pulsings seemed endless.

  Finally we sank down, my legs holding high around him. Panting softly we exchanged such kisses as do those who have enjoyed so sweet a climax.

  'Sir, my companion.'

  The warning was enough, much as we would have preferred to remain bathed in our mingled essences. His doughty member withdrew, literally steaming. Small drops of sperm anointed my stocking tops. I rose and tidied myself quickly.

  'You will return? In two weeks?'

  'So long?' My tone was chiding but forgiving.

  I departed quickly for fear that my passionate nature might wish to enjoy a reprise. Emma had finished her periodical and sat looking annoyed.

  'Eveline, you took so long!'

  'So many styles, Emma - but do not fear, I have chosen well for us both, one of each shade.'

  'Oh, but do you not think that black is so dull?'

  'Not in the prettiest of their styles, Emma.'

  I forebore to tell her that drawers need not be worn with such enticing attire. The tightness of the corsets drew the waist in and so displayed the violin curve of the hips. Above the frilly top the breasts were left perfectly naked. At the bottom, the lace curved just below the navel, leaving a perfect vista below of the curl-fringed mount with the broad corset straps running down the fronts and sides of the thighs.

  It occurred to me as we entered our carriage that Madame Dalmaine's thigh-length boots would make an enticing complement to the little corsets.

  Emma would never comprehend such sophisticated attire, but I certainly intended to divest her of her drawers if an occasion arose.

  'What do you make of Mary, then, John?'

  'A lovely lass, Miss.'

  The fellow's face was quite florid. It was the first time for many a long week that he had enjoyed my presence privately. Cock Robin would have done little work in my absence, unless he had had one or other of the servants, or some street girl. I hoped he had not descended to that. I asked him openly.

  'Oh no, Miss!'

  There was such shock in his voice that I smiled. John wanted to be certain always that he had nice, clean girls, it appeared. And a young lady like myself, though he did not say it. The hump in his breeches did.

  'Poor John, has Cock Robin been idle in his nest? Show it to me. I love to see it.'

  Standing before me as I sat by my window, he rapidly unfastened the flap of his red plush breeches. Sturdy as a carthorse he displayed it, the head as rubicund and swollen as I ever remembered it. A passion took me. Beckoning him forward more I bent my head and slid my lips around the purplish crest. He groaned. Slipping my hand within his attire I palmed his balls. They seemed heavier than ever. Glistening with my saliva his knob exposed itself again to the morning light.

  'I am not in a mood for it now, John. Mary would love it, I am sure. Have you tried her yet?'

  'No, Miss. She's skittish and shy. I tried a kiss or two and it were lovely. She has real velvet lips, like yours if I may make so bold. I felt her breasts and touched up her bottom a bit, but we had no privacy so I couldn't as get her skirts up.'

  'Shame, John. You would make a handsome pair. Have her sent up to me and perhaps we can do something about it. Would you like that?'

  He nodded fervently and forced his stiff member back in his breeches. His disappointment was obvious that I had not invited its salute, but the promise of my words put a shine in his eyes. 'How shall I act, Miss? Shall I leave her alone here with you?'

  'Exactly that. Give me some fifteen minutes with her, make sure the coast is clear and then return. Lock the door quietly as you come in. I will have her ready, I swear. Fear not if she struggles a little - it will be mere shyness. Have her lustily and she will enjoy it. After that the way will be clear for you.'

  He was gone. Emma had left with her father to ride in Hyde Park. Papa was elsewhere. I knew not where. John would ensure that there were no other interruptions.

  A timid knock announced Mary. Sippett had produced a new outfit for her. She looked charming, pretty and fresh. I drew her to my bed so that we might converse. I reminded her of the awful fellow in the railway carriage. The episode had provided a bond between us, I said. I wanted to repay all her discretion in the matter.

  'Miss, there is no need. I has the money still. I'm wondering what to spend it upon for best.'

  'Perhaps something you would like for a little cottage of your own, one day, Mary. I know one who would like to share such an abode with you.'

  'Oh! Who, Miss?'

  'John: The poor fellow has such desire for you I fear his breeches will burst if you do not accord him your favours. He is a splendid man, you know. Very reliable.'

  Her colour ran high at my words. Mary twisted her fingers about and stared at the floor. The proposal quite flustered and flattered her all at once.

  'Has he kissed you? And felt you, Mary?'

  'A bit. I didn't mind it, but in the servants' quarters there's always someone about and Sippett is so nosey.'

  'Exactly, and there are no beds large enough or comfortable enough up there for your pleasures. Imagine on this bed, Mary, would it not be nice?'

  I passed my arm around her shoulders. She trembled like a bird. Fingering her skirt casually I drew it up to her stocking tops. Too bemused to resist she gazed at me with open mouth. Her thighs were plumpish, silky and warm. Casting up her skirt higher and drawing her down so that we lay on our sides, I uncovered her thatch. The curls were thick and brown.

  'Would you like him to, Mary?'

  'Oh, I dunno, Miss! Oh MISS!'

  Her further cry
was occasioned by the sudden but quiet appearance of John who deftly fastened the door as I had bid him. His cock was in a rare state of anticipation, forming a veritable flagpole in his breeches.

  'Lie still, Mary!'

  I held her shoulders. She trembled, endeavoured to rise, and then sank back. Her eyes gazed wonderingly up at mine and then endeavoured to hide themselves as John uncovered his flaming member. Truly, I could have entertained it myself, but a new whim was upon me. I wanted to view, to witness.

  'Oh, what a size!'

  Mary uttered a long wail that would have risen higher in tone had I not smothered her lips beneath mine. Truly her mouth was as desirable as John had said. I savoured its sweetness and the pulpiness of its interior as her top lip rolled back under the pressure of my own.

  She kicked and would have threshed wildly had I not pinned her down while John's brawny hands held her legs well apart. For a moment I dared not raise my head to look, being occupied with keeping her down. Her hips wriggled madly. A shrill cry lost itself in the enclosing warmth of my mouth.

  John was in.

  Or at least his stout member was all of one third in her grotto as I loosed my hold in order to allow him to fall full upon her. No sight was ever prettier. Mary was the dove beneath the lion. Her mouth was open as if in a look of perpetual surprise.

  'Ah! It's too big!'

  I bent over her anew. My tongue coiled around her own. 'Slowly, John - enter it inch by inch.'

  Grunting his pleasure he obeyed. His breeches slithered ever further down, leaving to view his big buttocks and the glorious appendages beneath his cock. My excitement was intense, yet curiously I felt no immediate erotic desire myself. I slid off the bed. I gazed at them. Half crushed beneath him, Mary herself seemed more and more entranced at the rude slow entry of his piston. The lips of her slit formed themselves in a perfect mouth about the stem. I raised her legs - limp as they now were - and crossed them over the hips of John.