As a matter of fact her gaze had not left my sexual parts.
She was supporting herself against the bed on to which I was trying to push her.
'You're hurting me!'
'My dear lady, no one can see or hear you.'
Now she was sitting on the bed. I was still pushing. She lay back and closed her eyes.
My state of excitement was beyond all bounds. I lifted her dress, her petticoat, and saw a pair of thighs which fired my enthusiasm even more than had the peasant girls'. Between the closed thighs I caught sight of a small tangle of chestnut-coloured hairs, among which the crack was concealed.
I dropped to my knees, seized her thighs, felt them all over, caressed them, laid my cheeks upon them and covered them with kisses. My lips advanced from the thighs to her mound of Venus, her smell excited me still further.
I lifted her skirt even higher and looked with astonishment at the enormous bulk of her belly, upon which the naval was raised instead of hidden in a hollow like my sister's.
I licked her bellybutton. She lay motionless, her breasts hanging down on either side. I lifted one of her legs and placed it on the bed. Her cunt came into view. At first I was frightened by the big thick puffy lips coloured a reddish brown.
Her pregnancy gave me a chance to revel in that sight.
Her lips were spread and when I darted a glance inside I discovered a real butcher's stall of moist red meat.
Near the top of the lips was the pee hole, crowned by a small bean of flesh which I knew from my study of the anatomical atlas must be the clitoris.
The upper part of her slit was lost in the hair covering her overly fleshy mound of Venus. The lips were almost hairless, and the skin between the thighs was damp and red from sweat.
All in all it was not a very appetizing picture, but I appreciated it nevertheless because the woman was very clean. I could not help inserting my tongue into her crevice and licking it hastily before moving to the clitoris, which hardened under my passionate tonguing.
I soon tired of this sport, and since the crevice was by now well moistened, I replaced my tongue with my finger. Then I laid hold of her breasts, taking the tips in my mouth and sucking them by turns. I kept my finger on the clitoris, which grew harder and larger until it was as thick as a pencil.
At that point the woman came to her senses and began to whimper but without leaving the position into which I had forced her. I felt slightly sorry for her, but I was too worked up to really care. I talked to her cajolingly, trying to comfort her, and ended up by promising to stand as godfather for the child she was expecting.
I went over and, taking some money from the drawer, handed it to her. She had by then got herself decent again. So I lifted my nightshirt, but felt somewhat ashamed to find myself naked again in front of a woman, especially one who was married and pregnant.
I took her moist hand and placed it on my member. The touch was exquisite.
She squeezed, gently at first, then more firmly. I had grasped her breasts, which held a strange fascination for me.
I kissed her on the mouth, and she readily gave me her lips.
My whole being was attuned to pleasure. I placed myself between her thighs, but she exclaimed:
'Not on top of me. It hurts too much. I can't do it the front way any more.'
She got off the bed, turned round and bent over with her face on the bed. She said nothing else, but my instinct supplied me with the solution of the enigma. I remembered once having seen two dogs doing it that way. Following Médor's example, I lifted Diana's skirt - that was her name.
Her bottom appeared before me, a bottom such as I had never even dreamed of. Berthe's may have been pleasing, but it was really nothing next to this. My two cheeks put together wouldn't have made a half of one of these miraculous firm-fleshed buttocks. Like all beautiful breasts and thighs, her bottom was a dazzling white.
In the slit were some blond hairs, and the crack itself was like a chasm dividing her superb cheeks.
Below the colossal buttocks, between the thighs, lay the fat juicy cunt, in which my probing finger burrowed.
I placed my chest against the woman's bare backside and with my arms tried to encircle her elusive belly, which hung down like some stately globe.
I caressed her cheeks, then rubbed my member against them. But my curiosity was not yet satisfied. I spread her cheeks and inspected her arse-hole. Like her navel, it was elevated and though brown, was very clean.
I started to insert my finger, but she gave such a start that I was afraid I had hurt her, so I didn't press the point. I placed my burning prick in her cunt; it was like a knife cutting into a mound of butter. Then I went at it like a madman, slamming my belly against her elastic behind.
I was like one possessed. I was no longer conscious of what I was doing, but I reached the voluptuous climax, and for the first time in my life shot my sperm into a woman's cunt.
After the discharge I wanted to stay for a while in that agreeable position, but the bailiff's wife turned round and chastely arranged her clothes. While she was rebuttoning her blouse, I heard the sound of something dripping: it was my sperm running from her cunt on to the floor. She smeared it underfoot, and dried her thighs on her skirt.
When she saw me standing in front of her, with my red, moist prick partly erect, she smiled, took out her handkerchief and meticulously dried it.
'Get dressed, now, Monsieur Roger,' she said. 'I've got to go now. And for the love of God,' she added, blushing, 'don't let anyone hear about what happened just now or I'll never forgive you.'
We embraced, exchanged kisses, and she departed, leaving me lost in a flood of new sensations.
Sarah
On the day in question I had no knowledge of my true self. I knew I loved Nature - flowers, animals, scents, textures; the spidery crawl of Grandmother's fine lace shawl on the back of my hand, the soft fur of Olive's old tomcat when he allowed himself to be stroked, indeed the feel of my own smooth flesh on the insides of my upper arms and thighs gave me pleasure. I handled my body with care and confidence but up till now I had let it live its own life and it seemed to get on pretty well without my worrying about it. My breasts were full and firm, my hips rounded and womanly and my belly swelled gently down to a tidy thicket of springy curls, a shade of brownish blonde just darker than the hair on my head. Of the uses to which my attributes might be put, and of the power and pleasure my body could afford me, I had as yet no knowledge.
This night there was no family dinner to arrange as the family was dining out. To my surprise the atmosphere in the servants' hall was far removed from that I had come to expect. On the table stood a collection of bottles which Jarvis was fussing over with a proprietory air.
'Sarah, my dear,' he called as I entered the room, 'come and join our little celebration.'
I approached the table with some trepidation. I had so far received little in the way of friendship from my companions below stairs. Although they had not been cruel to me, until now I had thought of myself as an outsider and tolerated out of necessity. Of the three, Jarvis had been by far the most kindly though our respective duties had thrown us very little into one another's company.
Now he pulled up a chair for me and poured me a generous draught of liquor.
'Mr Jarvis,' announced Winifred for my benefit, 'has had a little fortune with the gee-gees.'
'A little fortune,' said Milly in an ironic tone which implied a weighty addition to the Jarvis coffers.
'A considerable stroke of luck,' cried Jarvis, 'for I claim no credit beyond the happy accident of running into the only honest Irishman ever to have quit the Emerald Isle.'
'Be careful, Mr Jarvis,' I said, the taste of courage, in the form of gin, burning the back of my throat, 'my father was an Irishman and he was as honest as he was poor.'
'Then let us drink to the memory of your father,' cried Jarvis, holding his glass aloft, 'and bless him for bestowing on the world a lass with such a delightful pair of blue
eyes.'
By this I took it that he meant myself and was totally disarmed. The other two hooted and made noises as are the aural equivalent of a dig in the ribs. I of course, observed that all parties were ahead of me in terms of liquid refreshment and as a consequence were somewhat drunk. Winifred gazed on me with a motherly benevolence I had not thought possible from one usually so stern; and Milly was as friendly and solicitous of my comfort as she was habitually reserved. I downed my gin and observed that the glass was smartly refilled.
I must make it clear that, though innocent at this time, I was not totally ignorant of the ways of men with women. I was not unduly modest by nature. I knew that my face and my figure rarely went unremarked by the male sex. It would have been extraordinary had I achieved my present age without having to encounter advances. And encountered them I had, though mostly of a fumbling, immature sort and, once or twice, of a more direct but fortunately also drunkenly ineffectual nature. Thus far my swift feet and sober wits had preserved me from nothing more dangerous than a few beery kisses and some heavy-handed fumbling at my bosom.
I could see, of course, that Jarvis was giving me the glad eye and, though surprised by the sudden turn of events, I was not displeased.
He was a compact man, upright and well-formed, only recently past his fortieth year - or so I guessed - with a kindly face and, at the moment, an unmistakably lecherous grin.
'I propose a toast,' he said, 'to the sweetest pair...' and here he looked at me '...of lips...' here he turned to Winifred '...in the kingdom.' At this he seized her and planted a smacking kiss full on her mouth - which did not appear to displease her in the least. In truth, in the half light, with her hair and bodice loose, Winifred looked fully worthy of any affection he might care to bestow on her.
'And now,' cried Jarvis, 'a toast to the finest pair of... thighs.' And he launched himself at Milly. There was a squealing and giggling and the scrape of chairs on the floor as Milly sprang up to avoid this sudden assault - thus facilitating Jarvis's attempt to lift her skirts and display her legs.
'Oh, you filthy beast,' she muttered as he hauled her clothing up to her waist. However it seemed to me that she did not protest overmuch and she could surely have done more to prevent the display of her trim and shapely limbs. Jarvis had now successfully laid bare an expanse of creamy white thigh, prettily framed by the close cut legs of her blue drawers and the tops of her stockings.
Still holding her firmly around the waist, with her skirts cleverly pinned out of the way behind her, Jarvis allowed his free hand to stroke and play across her exquisitely exposed legs.
'Look at these pretties,' he urged us, 'did I tell you a lie? 'Hasn't she got the prettiest, smoothest, whitest pair of thighs...?' and so on, all the while running his hand up and over and down the girl's naked flesh. I watched in fascination as his hand crossed over from one leg to the other, fingers running down under her stocking tops, then up underneath the hem of her knickers; then pressing gently with his third finger on the junction of her thighs as his hand fluttered over her most secret triangle. Then two fingers lingered, searching for her very groove beneath the material of her drawers.
'Oh my,' said Milly to no one and laid her head Jarvis's shoulder.
His hand was strong, stubby, coarse, with filed nails, blunt fingers and black hairs sprouting between the knuckles. A plain gold band twinkled on the finger - which now insinuated itself beneath the edging of Milly's underthings. Tantalisingly Jarvis opened the leg of the garment and lifted it up to expose a thatch of nether-hair. He teased the curls, twined and toyed with strands to reveal the pouting lips of Milly's most intimate portion. So slowly that I could almost feel its agonising progress upon my own skin, Jarvis's little finger slipped between those tender pink lips and into the very quick of her.
'Oh,' murmured Milly as Jarvis eased in up to the joint and then out and then in again. I watched without breathing as the finger withdrew and, moistened by Milly's evident excitement, slid up to that sensitive spot at the apex of her love-lips. Milly bucked and squealed and rolled her buttocks back against Jarvis's legs but he held her firm, determined, it seemed, to spur her agitation to fever pitch. The gold ring on his finger winked in and out of view, glistening with her juices. A heady smell hung in the air. As I leant forward to drink in the mesmerising sight, I crossed and uncrossed my legs.
Now Jarvis was running the slippery metal of his ring over the pink nub of flesh evermore protuberant at the top of Milly's slit. Faster and faster he rubbed as the breath came in short gasps, now interspersed with an uninhibited string of words that I'm sure she was unaware of uttering:
'Oh, yes, ooh yes, faster, faster, please, frig, yes, do me nicely please, oh Jackie, you beast, stop, don't let me come, poke me, poke me please, oooh, aaah, I want your cock Jackie, oh they're watching, God don't stop, oh so nice, in my cunt, cock, cunt, fuck me after - OH, OH...'
In a flurry of wriggling hips and quivering thighs Milly jerked and shuddered and, for a few seconds, seemed to quite lose control of her limbs - if Jarvis had not been holding her I'm sure she would have collapsed in a heap on the floor.
'And now,' said Mr Jarvis, fixing me with the eyes of a starving man, 'who's next?'
To my surprise Winifred said, 'I think it's time we saw exactly what our new girl is made of,' and she pulled me up from my chair.
Truth to tell, such was my state of agitation by this time that I would have happily thrown myself into the arms of Jackie Jarvis had we been by ourselves. But to display such intimate emotions as I had just witnessed before Winifred and the shameless Milly was too much to ask.
However the other participants in this scene of unbridled lechery had different intentions. At Winifred's suggestion Milly had roused herself from her swoon and now latched a firm hand round my wrist.
'Come on, Sarah,' she said, 'be a sport, let's see what's beneath that Goody Two Shoes pinafore.'
And before I knew it Winifred had my other hand and the two held me fast.
'Now Jack,' said Winifred in a voice of sobriety, 'I imagine you'd like to examine Sarah in detail to see if she measures up to the high expectations Lord Coddrington entertains of her.'
'Indeed I would,' said he, 'I know for a fact his Lordship is looking forward to a full report.'
Winifred had contrived to stand behind me and, using her advantage of height and weight, she had forced me up on to my toes with my chest thrust forward and my hands imprisoned behind my back. Milly now began to unbutton and loosen and untuck my clothing so rapidly that, held in the housekeeper's firm grip, there was little I could do to prevent her.
In seconds Milly had unbuttoned my pinafore and laid open the bodice to reveal just the simple undershift that lay between my bare bosom and the burning gaze of three pairs of eyes.
'Well, well,' said Milly, insolently running her hands over my breasts and feeling them through the material, 'ain't you a well-built girl.'
It was not possible to remove my shift without releasing my hands but, to my dismay, Milly proceeded to slide the straps of the garments off my shoulders. Thus she insinuated the article down my body then, delicately sliding her hands beneath the material onto the naked flesh of my bosom, she lifted my breasts free of their flannel covering.
I knew myself to be rudely displayed, my flesh thrust out into bold relief by Winnie's pressure on my back; my big breasts white and trembling, my shameless nipples pinkly engorged.
They then proceeded to have their fun with me. First Milly stroked and handled my tittles, making their delicate tips tingle in a disturbing way.
'Your skin is so smooth,' she said.'
'Have you no shame, Milly?' I asked.
'No,' she said simply and kissed me on the lips.
Winnie was less gentle with me in her turn but her rough handling only seemed to fan the spark that Milly's softer ministrations had ignited. Though I was now allowed freedom of movement somehow I made no attempt to break away.
'Take off her clothes
,' commanded Jarvis, 'I need to take a closer look at her for his Lordship's sake.'
They lifted me on to a chair in the full glare of the gas light. Eager hands pulled at the fastenings that remained intact. I made no protest and lifted my limbs as required to enable them to disrobe me. Very shortly they had reduced me to just my stockings.'
They lifted me onto a chair in the full glare of the light. I tried to cover myself with my hands but Winifred commanded me to hold them behind my back - or else she would make me.
I felt so exposed! I was mortified to exhibit my body this way - yet it had the hypnotic quality of a dream: a dream I often had in which I was displayed naked to faceless strangers and made to adopt poses for their amusement. It seemed that there was a part of my nature that understood what was happening to me better than I did myself.
My audience was delighted with the spectacle I made and generous in their compliments. These remarks were nectar to my vanity. Though I knew that I was fairly made, I had never before been so brutally exposed nor so carefully scrutinised.
'Isn't she a tasty morsel?' asked the housekeeper of Jarvis.
'My eye,' said he in tones of approval. 'A right cracker, I'd say.'
They made me turn back and forth, hold my arms above my head, then turn round so they could feast their eyes full on the flesh of my backside. The nip of my waist, the curve of my hips, the jut of my breasts, the swell of my bottom - all seemed to please them greatly.
Jarvis told me to face him and place my feet apart. 'Open up, my dear,' he said, taking a seat next to the chair on which I stood. 'I have Lord Coddrington's business to attend to.'
'Oh sir,' I cried, 'his Lordship must never know of this! You wouldn't tell him surely!'
'I might and I might not,' came the reply. 'But I can assure you that his Lordship would be most interested in that extraordinary treasure you are attempting to conceal from me just at this moment!'
'Feet apart,' cried Winnie and, seizing my ankles, she forced me into a position of some indelicacy. With Jarvis seated as he was, my most intimate portion was but a few inches from his prurient gaze.
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