by P. F. Kozak
“Pamela, what the devil are you doing? May will serve us our dinner.”
“She is busy finishing the main course. I’m famished and want to have some soup now.” Pamela ladled soup into each of their bowls before she sat across from Peter.
Peter shook his napkin and spread it on his lap. “I trust you will mind yourself while I am gone? No visiting Nellie’s or anything of the sort.”
“Why, Peter, I will promise not to visit Nellie’s if you will do the same.”
Peter shook his spoon at her. “You are an impertinent young woman.”
Pamela sipped the soup from her spoon. Flipping it over, she suggestively licked the spoon’s bowl. “If I am so impertinent, perhaps I should be spanked.”
Peter coughed, and wiped his mouth with his napkin before he spoke. “My dear Pamela! That can certainly be arranged! If you continue to push me, it could be sooner rather than later.”
Pamela stifled a giggle watching Peter’s composure slip with her suggestion. “Promises, promises.”
“How did this happen to you?”
“How did what happen to me?”
“How did you become a woman with such appetites? I am dumbstruck by the changes in you.”
“Peter, it has been there all along. Nellie told me you have always tried to protect my innocence. You have been so busy protecting the girl you remember that you haven’t seen the woman I’ve become.”
“You had quite the talk with Nellie, it seems. I would like to know what else she told you about me.”
“She said you are a complex and commanding man, in all matters. She also said I should tell you what I want, that you would be open to hearing.”
“What do you want, Pamela?”
Just then, May pushed the dining room door open and carried in a platter of roast loin of mutton, surrounded by potato croquettes and brussel sprouts. “What on earth have you two been doing in here? You haven’t finished your soup and I’m here to serve your meal!”
“We’ve been talking. If you leave the platter, I am sure Pamela will not mind serving the meal. She did a splendid job with the soup.”
If Pamela had been able to reach Peter’s leg, she would have kicked him. “Peter is quite correct, May. I served him his soup without spilling it on his lap. If he trusts me not to drop his dinner on the floor, I would be happy to serve the mutton.”
After putting the platter in the middle of the table, May gave Pamela a stern warning. “I expect you will eat a proper dinner, missy.”
“Oh, I promise you she will, May. I will take her over my knee if she doesn’t.”
“Well, if you don’t, I surely will. She won’t be getting any raisin pudding unless she cleans her plate!”
Peter gave Pamela a look that curled her toes. “That will be fine, May. I will take care of the spanking and you can withhold the pudding.”
“Mind him, missy. He means it.” May took the empty tureen and returned to the kitchen.
“If that is supposed to encourage me to eat my meal, I think you should reconsider your threat.”
“Quite the contrary. I think you should reconsider the full import of the suggestion.”
“You asked me what I want and I am telling you.”
“Indeed. Perhaps we should eat now and ruminate upon this matter.”
“I have ruminated upon it. I’m about to burst with rumination!”
Peter chuckled in amusement. “You have obviously given this some thought. Eat your dinner. We will retire to the library to have our pudding and discuss it a bit more.”
“Then, allow me to serve you your dinner.” With grace and poise worthy of royalty, she walked around the table and stood at Peter’s side. Reaching for the platter, she deliberately brushed his shoulder with her breast. She served the food slowly, making sure she pressed into him each time she reached for his plate.
She could feel Peter watching her as she served her own food. Reclaiming her seat across from him, she picked up her wineglass. “Would you care to offer a toast?”
Peter picked up his glass and raised it in the air. “To Sir George and his legacy. May the angels carry to him news of his daughter, so he knows the beautiful woman she has become.”
Pamela’s eyes filled as she said, “To Papa. May he also know I am happy with you.”
Chapter Eleven
Lucy removed their empty pudding bowls and closed the library door as she left. Peter stoked the fire and poured himself more brandy before sitting down beside Pamela.
Putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, he whispered into her ear, “Are you still ruminating?”
“Peter Rennard, I’ve been ruminating for many years.”
“As have I, my dear.”
“I still don’t understand why it can’t be tonight. Why can’t we be together right now?”
“Pamela, I will not have you give me your virginity on a sofa. It is tawdry and beneath you.”
“We could go to your bedchamber. Peter, please!”
“No, Pams, not tonight. I want you to be very sure it is what you want. Once done, it cannot be undone.”
“I am sure it is what I want.”
“We have waited this long. We can wait another week. My absence will give you a chance to settle in here and think about all we have discussed. I will keep my promise. When I return, the door to my bedchamber will be open to you if you still care to walk through it.”
“Then, if I cannot share your bed tonight, tell me what we can do.”
“Anything you want to do that will not compromise your chastity.”
“Do not say such things unless you really mean it.”
“Pams, I do mean it. You have had me in a state all evening.” Peter picked up her hand and kissed her palm before laying it on the hard bulge in his trousers. “Do you think I would jest about this?”
Pamela lightly caressed his cock. “I want to know of your habits with Nellie.”
“Pamela, do not speak of Nellie now.”
“Why shouldn’t I? I want to know what you do with her. She says you are inclined to many things.”
“You are not only invading my privacy with that question, but also being quite disrespectful. My dear, that spanking you mentioned is much closer than you might expect.”
Peter indulges his appetites, continue reading Peter’s hunger consumes him
“Do you think me a naughty girl?” Pamela breathed the words into his neck, sending a shiver down Peter’s side.
“You have been more than naughty, Pamela. Visiting a bawdyhouse in broad daylight is a seriously wicked offense, one that quite demands discipline.”
Pamela kissed his neck and then licked it, sliding her tongue to just below his ear. “Isn’t that why you go to Nellie’s, to keep the company of wicked girls?”
“Perhaps it is time you understand what happens to wicked girls who live in my home.” Peter grabbed Pamela’s wrist and yanked her over his lap.
“Peter! What are you doing?”
“I presume exactly what you want to happen.”
Wrapping one arm across her back, Peter held her down. He roughly pulled up her skirt and petticoat with his other hand.
“You’re going to tear my dress!” Pamela tried to get her footing on the carpet. She slipped and sprawled across Peter’s lap, her legs spreading wide. Before she could try again to stand, Peter clamped his leg over hers.
“If I tear it, dear Pamela, I will buy you another tomorrow. I will also buy you another pair of drawers. There is no question they will be torn.”
No sooner had he stated his intention than he found the opening in the crotch of her knickers. To pull them off properly, he would have to release her. Of course, that would be out of the question, as he had her exactly where he wanted her. So, he jerked the material upward until the seam gave way. Her knickers opened to the waist, revealing a gloriously round bum.
“My God, Peter, you ripped my pants!” Pamela squirmed again. He clamped her in ti
ghter, this time making sure her side pressed against the rock-hard ridge in his trousers.
“Yes, my dear, I did. You want to know of my appetites? You are about to discover one of them.” With that, he raised his hand high and brought it down full force on the smooth flesh of her arse. Pamela yelped and tried to raise herself. He held her fast. Again, he slapped her bum and again she resisted.
“Peter!” Even as she gasped out his name, he saw her legs spread wider.
“Are you enjoying yourself? Let’s see if you are.” Peter wedged his hand between her legs and curled his fingers deeply into her body. When he felt her maidenhead, he knew he could go no further. A soft, guttural sound escaped from her throat as he slid his fingers out and back into her.
“Are you ready for it, Pams? Are you ready to take me inside of you?” He pushed harder against her chastity. “Are you ready to let me break it, dear Pamela, and take your virginity?”
Pamela writhed on his lap, her arse pushing backward to increase the pressure inside her cunt. “My God, yes, I want you to do it now, tonight.”
“Not tonight, Pams, but soon.” He withdrew his fingers from her pussy and traced the crack of her arse with his slick finger. With no warning, he raised his hand and slapped her again. He continued until her bum turned pink under his hand. Each smack cracked loudly in the quiet room.
Pamela pressed her pelvis into Peter’s leg, trying to find some relief. “Peter, I am on fire. Please, rub me! Let me spend!”
“I think not, sweet Pams. I want the fire to grow hotter.” Peter caressed her warm bum as he spoke. “I will help you to spend, but not just yet.”
Peter noticed Pamela’s dress buttoned down the back. Making sure he had her pinned tightly with his leg, he reached up and undid each button, opening her dress.
“I’m going to give you a choice, Pams. I will let you stand and take your dress off, or I can pull it off as you are. If I allow you to stand, you will remove it and then return to your current position.”
“I will take it off. There is no need to risk tearing it.”
Peter moved his leg so Pamela could stand. She wobbled a bit as she got her balance, but regained her poise quickly. She lowered the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She picked it up and tossed it over the back of an armchair.
“Do you have stockings on under your petticoat?”
“Of course I do.”
“Leave those on. It would please me if you removed everything else.” Pamela removed her clothing, first her camisole and then her petticoat and drawers. Peter opened his trousers as he drank in her loveliness. “Would you take pleasure in knowing that you rival any of the girls I’ve seen at Nellie’s? They quite enjoy showing themselves as you are now.”
Looking at his exposed organ, she licked her lips. “I would also enjoy watching you take everything off.”
“Not tonight, dear heart. We will save that for my return.”
“At least open your shirt for me. I want to feel your skin against mine.”
“You may open it yourself before you resume your position across my lap.”
Pamela slinked toward him like a cat stalking a mouse. She stopped directly in front of him. With deliberate care, she slowly unpinned her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. Her stockings stopped mid thigh, held in place by her garters. She had nothing else on.
With no hesitation, she came up to him, straddled his lap and sat down. His exposed erection lay on his belly, only a few centimeters from the tight curls between her legs. Pamela methodically opened his waistcoat, taking care to unhook his pocket watch and tuck the chain fully into the pocket. Then, she undid his shirt buttons.
He stroked her breast with the back of his hand. She slid even closer to him. He could feel her feminine heat against his groin. Pamela pulled his shirt open wide. She leaned forward and kissed his chest, pressing her moist crevice against his cock. Peter pushed her back.
“Pamela, you only had permission to open my shirt.”
“I fancy being naughty with you. I thought you fancied it, too.”
Peter reached around and dug his fingertips into her still warm bum. “This naughty girl is courting another spanking.”
“Am I?”
“It seems you have a taste for it.”
“It seems so.”
Peter reached down and brushed her moist curls. “What else do you want to do with me?”
“Everything, Peter, simply everything!”
Peter chuckled at the enthusiasm only Pamela could bring to such matters. “Pamela, that is a tall order. Perhaps we best start slowly.”
“I thought that is what we are doing?”
Peter massaged her clitoris and watched her reaction. She grabbed his shirt and arched her back, her breasts begging to be licked. “You think this is starting slowly? Dear Pamela, starting slowly is sitting in the parlour having tea, chaperoned by May. This is not starting slowly.”
Putting his arm around her waist, he bent Pamela backward. Capturing her nipple with his mouth, he suckled her. Pamela’s hips undulated on his lap, the need in her belly great. Burying his face between the inviting mounds, he licked the valley between her breasts. Covering her chest with kisses, he worked his way up to her neck. Bringing his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “It is time. I want you across my lap.”
Pamela’s eyes had the look of someone who had taken too much laudanum. With her voice thick with arousal, she whispered in turn, “Peter, I will split in half I ache so. Please, I need to spend.”
“Lay across my lap, Pams. I will see to it.”
She did as he told her. Immediately, she pushed against his leg, desperately needing relief. Peter also needed release, the throbbing in his cock unendurable. But he would see to Pamela first. He wanted to send her higher than she had ever been and savour her moment of release against him. Pulling her in closer, he lodged his prick in the soft flesh of her side.
The pink flush on her bum had faded. He smiled, knowing that would not be the case for long. Raising his hand, he brought it down with a loud crack against her bottom. Pamela yelped in surprise. “Perhaps I should have done this years ago.” Pamela squirmed on his lap. He smacked her arse several more times. The squirming quickly became thrashing.
Opening her legs, he penetrated her virginal cunt with two fingers. Pamela lifted her arse in the air like a cat in heat. He finger-fucked her, bumping her maidenhead with each thrust. Pamela humped his leg with desperate need, her climax close. Peter reached under her and found her clitoris. Holding her tightly around her waist, with his leg over hers, he pinched her clit and twisted it between his fingers.
Pamela’s breath caught in her throat and she convulsed on his lap. He pinched her clit harder and a strangled scream escaped as she tried to say his name. Peter unhooked his leg from hers, to let her move. With the fury of her climax freed, tremors seized her body. She thrashed against his prick. He drove his organ into her side, sinking it into her flesh. His cream shot from him, spraying her bare skin. His trousers would be stained with the residue of their evening. He didn’t care.
“But Peter, I only want to know of your appetites. Nellie told me to ask you. That’s what I am doing.”
“Nellie is now your confidante, and your advisor? I remind you again, Pamela, she is also a whore.”
“And Peter, might I also refresh your memory? According to her letters, you have been keeping her company for at least fifteen years. It seems she is also your confidante and advisor.”
“You want to know of my appetites? Disrobe for me and you will find out more.”
Pamela studied him for a moment before making up her mind. “All right then, I will!” Turning around, she said to him, “This dress has buttons in the back. Will you undo them for me?”
“Of course.” Peter unbuttoned her dress. As he did, Pamela asked, “What would you have me do?”
“Disrobe and I will tell you.”
“Shall I leave my petticoat on?�
��
“Oh, no, Pamela. You will display yourself for me fully. I wish to see all of your charms this evening.”
Peter knew he challenged her. He wanted her to fully appreciate what he would ask of her. Better she understood now, before deciding to share his bed.
He watched her carefully. He saw no hesitation as Pamela stepped out of her dress and carefully draped it over an armchair.
“Do you have stockings on under your petticoat?”
“Of course I do! Do you think I go barelegged?” Her fiery sass made his prick twitch.
“With you, dear Pamela, one never knows.” As she watched him, he slowly opened his trousers. Her eyes followed his every move. “Take the stockings off next.”
She did as he told her, lifting her petticoat so she could hook her fingers under the garters. “Are you going to undress for me as I am for you?”
“No need, at least not this evening. You want to know of my appetites. I am showing you what I like.”
Pamela pulled off a stocking. “What about what I like?”
He stroked himself, watching her remove the other stocking. “Sweet Pamela, by your own admission, you do not yet know what you like.”
Pamela threw her stocking in his face. “How the bleeding devil did you get to be so cunting arrogant?”
“Now, now, your common tendencies are showing. You are a child of class and privilege. You should act as if you are.” Peter took the stocking she threw at him and caressed his face with it, before he held it under his nose to smell her on it. “You smell of being in a brothel.”
Pamela lifted her camisole and pulled it over her head. Her breasts tumbled free. She stood there, in full view of him. “Just how does a brothel smell, Peter? I wouldn’t know.”
“Of course you know. You spent the better part of today at Nellie’s, even being in her private quarters.”
“I didn’t smell anything!” With her hands on her hips and her breasts hanging in all their weighted glory, Peter didn’t know if he should laugh or pin her to the floor and fuck her until she couldn’t walk.