İçeriğe geçmek için "Enter"a basın

MaudeMadeleine part 14

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Big Dicks

As I write this, Maria is entertaining one of Mistress Pickles’ ladies. True to her promise that kindly former employer, teacher and guardian has, since our departure from her house, sent a number of her clients to stay with us. Some have been convalescents, other merely wishing to enjoy a change from the normal social circles they enjoy or endure in the capital. Mistress Pickles sends us money to pay for their visits and we do not know, ask or care what she charges them. We have also found a few clients of our own, mostly through word of mouth. The occasional intrusions do not in any way mar our enjoyment of our independence or of each other. The lady in question arrived only yesterday and was tired after her trying journey. I do not expect her to feel less so after Maria has performed in her usual, vigorous way. I know all too well for I am oft too tired of a morning to rise from my bed. I swear my knees are strangers who need to be reacquainted every morning! My view is of the Cob. It is, I am told, a notable landmark but I have always thought since we moved here that it looks like a small harbour wall around a small and disappointing harbour. That aside, the view is perfect. It varies all the time, with the sea moving from violent anger to millpond calm and with boats and ships providing constant diversion. We have our own Jenkins now. Her name is Torrance and is of Scottish origin. Her accent is soft and her manner mild but she rules the household with an iron fist inside an iron glove. She has, too, a foul mouth which offends my ear but makes Maria laugh inordinately. It was important to Maria and I that we created a Sapphic household akin to Mistress Pickles’ but on a reduced scale. We have but three ladies who entertain guests now aside from ourselves. They are: Ella, a simple country girl from the local county of Dorset with an appetite for carnal pleasure that rivals anyone’s, Doris who served in Mistress Pickles’ house with us and came here to recuperate from the ague and asked if she might remain and Jemima, a foundling who started, much as I myself did, doing simple book keeping for us but who showed, as Maria put it, considerable potential. I have never minded that Maria pays attention to others for I am secure in my certainty that she would forego all others for me but her appetite is so insatiable I confess to being glad, occasionally, of the respite. Her dalliances are not only rare but always with my full knowledge and consent before they occur. I remember vividly when Jemima celebrated her eighteenth birthday Maria said quite naturally to me, ‘I think, my dear, that I shall introduce our Jemima to the mysteries. Would that be acceptable?’ ‘I am sure she will find it so my love and you know I shall both envy her and rejoice for you both.’ ‘You are truly a gem,’ was Maria’s response. It was, at least, her response in words; in actions she replied more deliciously. Both Maria and I entertain too, but only for selected guests. Maria’s current visitor is the wife of an Admiral, a companion of the late and much lamented Lord Nelson with whom, she revealed last night over dinner, she had spent a memorable weekend in Exmouth, but two doors from his abandoned wife’s house. ‘I know not how he behaved when he fought the enemy, my dears, güvenilir bahis but he boarded me with great gusto. He thrust most vigorously. I was impressed that he could hold his admittedly slight body above me on but the one arm.’ Maria and I had exchanged glances, hardly able to avoid breaking into laughter. ‘Let us both hope, my Lady, that I will please you as much as his Lordship did,’ said Maria. I thought to myself that her Ladyship would feel as if the entire fleet had boarded her now that she had thrown down such a challenge to my lovely Maria. It seems that I was correct in my musing for heavy though the door of Maria’s salon may be, no matter how stout the walls, I catch occasional if muted sounds of obvious enjoyment. It may seem odd that despite knowing Maria is rogering her I feel no jealously of her Ladyship There have, dear reader, been two events since our arrival here in Dorset that I dare hope may be of interest. The first occurred shortly after our arrival the second more recently. You may recall that Maria and I had, as a result of Mistress Pickles’ prudence, both amassed a substantial sum to fund our retirement from full time entertaining. It is indeed also thanks to Mistress Pickles that my mother was able to remove herself from poverty and, at her death, leave me further evidence of that good woman’s kindness. She had, without reference to me, paid my mother a stipend for undertaking all her household’s seamstress work that was beyond the abilities of her own staff and as a result mother had been able to buy a small house of her own which I inherited and which Maria and I keep as a pied-a-terre when we wish to visit the City. It was thanks to this wealth that Maria and I were able to appear to the local gentry as worthy of their interest. Maria has, I think I may have mentioned, the slight look of mixed blood although she cannot confirm or deny this since she never knew either of her own parents, poor dear. This notwithstanding, the locals accepted us as much, I think, out of a natural generosity as from the pleasure they took from having Maria’s beautiful presence in their homes. We were invited to a Harvest Supper by Mrs Palmer, the vicar’s wife shortly after our arrival in Lyme. This was not something that greatly appealed for, I confess, Maria and I do not have great faith nor do we attend church every Sunday and we suspected that we might receive a private sermon from the good Dr. Palmer. Happily this did not prove to be the case. The Parsonage was overwhelmed with guests some of whom had clearly enjoyed the wine more than the supper. Whilst at home, Maria still leans to the manly in dress but in society she is a woman ‘sans pareil’. On this occasion she wore a fine satin dress and a hat of small and delicate proportions. I was alone in knowing that under her dress she wore her ladyprick for it is our delicious secret. I had for my part another secret. I shall digress and reveal this secret to you. * On a Thursday almost exactly a month after our moving into our new residence I had been dealing with household matters and Maria had taken the dogcart down into the town, driven by Torrance who managed horses much as she did staff. It had become and remains our habit to take sherry together at four of the afternoon and güvenilir bahis siteleri nothing, no event or client, prevents this. We retire to our private withdrawing room and talk or, quite often, enjoy a deal of intimacy. ‘Come, Madeleine and remove your face from that ledger. It is our time now.’ She had returned! I looked up, startled, at the clock on the mantel and saw that, engrossed as I had been in the figure work, I had failed even to hear the chime of the hour. I hastily sanded, blotted and closed the ledger, tidied the papers away and followed Maria to our withdrawing room (here we see no servants except in extremis). Maria poured our wine and sat having handed me my glass. ‘How was your visit to the town, my Love?’”Uneventful barring one incident. Torrance is a most competent driver.’ ‘And the one incident?’ Maria smiled a wicked smile. ‘That is something you are about to discover most personally. Pray come and stand here beside me.’ Interest aroused I did as she asked and, also at her bidding, I turned away from her. I was not, as you may imagine, at all disturbed to feel her hand delving under my dress and opening the silk bloomers I wore. Her finger deftly stroked me until it was inevitable that my moistness was precipitated, whereupon her finger slithered deeply and most beautifully into me. ‘I do not see what relevance this has to your visit to the town,’ I said, laughing with pleasure. ‘Be silent, wench,’ said Maria with mock severity. ‘Learn you shall and soon.’ Her finger now slick with my juices left my cunny to my huge disappointment but, to restore my pleasure, slid up a fraction to press, after overcoming my natural resistance, into my darker entrance. Here she dallied for a few moments before withdrawing from me. ‘Now, my little guttersnipe, bend over the back of the chaise.’ Oft, when she was in the mood for urgent satisfaction it was over this piece of furniture that she had me bend and I was expecting her ladyprick to invade me imminently. To begin with all seemed normal. She unceremoniously lifted my dress and threw it over my head. She untied my bloomers and pulled them down and I awaited her delicious assault. I was not disappointed. I was however surprised that whilst I was experiencing an intrusion into my postern gate, Maria was not behind me but to one side, one hand on my mid back. I turned and she grinned wolfishly at me. ‘Be patient, child of sin, and you will learn.’ The pressure on my entrance increased almost to burning as I was stretched open and I gasped and protested but she was relentless, if slow. Suddenly the pain disappeared and I felt myself close around whatever the intruder was and felt her tap something that now nested between my buttocks. ‘Stand up straight, girl.’ I did so. ‘Now, walk around a little.’ Whatever she had put in me created the most delicious feelings as I walked. It was as if she were inside me. ‘My heaven, Maria, you are a magician. You invade me from afar. You are supernatural.’ ‘No, my love, I am oak. I had Moore, the joiner turn it for me. He thought it was an unusual ornament but I told him it was a replica of one such that your mother had owned and that I wanted to give it to you for sentimental reasons. It is made to my own design. Do you approve? I thought iddaa siteleri it might be a shared secret like that which I wear sometimes.’ ‘Could a lady ever approve of such depravity?’ I asked with a broad smile. ‘It delights me, my darling. You are the kindest and most imaginative of lovers.’ ‘My thought was that it would at least stop Torrance rogering you there.’ Maria laughed and so did I. ‘But not here,’ she said as she lifted her own dress and, pressing me back over the chair once more flipped my dress and eased her ladyprick into my now flooding cunny. It appeared urgency had over come her and I was not sorry for that. The combination of her extension and the ornament in my rear led me to a surprisingly violent climax which left me shaking and exhausted as I lay bent over the chaise. * Perhaps you now realise that at the Harvest Supper I was thus filled. Maria, ever the one to make merry introduced me to Mr. Moore the joiner. ‘Should you not thank Mr. Moore for his skillful replication of your mother’s ornament Madeleine?’ ‘Oh my, but of course yes Maria. Thank you so much Mr. Moore.’ ‘I ‘opes it satisfies, Miss.’ ‘More than you can know, Mr. Moore,’ I said almost in a paroxysm of laughter. ‘I will always keep it safe.’ ‘Do you have it with you now, Miss? I’d like to remind meself as how I dunnit’ ‘That,’ said Maria, ‘will not be possible Mr. Moore, but rest assured it is in the safest and most treasured of places. Miss Clench keeps it snug and safe.’ How we did not collapse with laughter I simply cannot explain. As we moved among the throng, Maria would make subtle references to our secrets. She stroked a sideboard and remarked that oak was truly a most fitting wood for so many purposes. She fondled lasciviously a brush’s handle and suggested that such a shape would surely be a welcome addition to any household. I tried in vain not to laugh for fear of being seen as irreverent by our hosts but there was so much noise and laughter from others that nobody noticed. As we entered a small sitting room with a view over the large, beautifully manicured garden we found a lady of considerable elegance seated at a window seat admiring the scene. She turned her head slowly and smiled. ‘Am I mistaken in thinking I meet the ladies of Upper House?’ ‘Indeed you are not, Ma’am,’ said Maria and she introduced us. It was unusual for me to hear her refer to me as Miss Clench and herself as Miss Lloyd. ‘And with whom do we have the pleasure of this encounter?’ ‘I am Jessica Tansley. I have a small apartment here in Lyme but I live mostly in London. Dr. Palmer is my uncle.’ I said it was our pleasure to meet her and it was no more than the truth. She bore herself with great authority and self-confidence. Her clothes were of the finest quality and her eyes, teeth and skin were almost perfect. She bade us sit and join her. ‘Do, please, call me Jessica and may I address you as Maria and Madeleine? I feel as if I have known you for such a long time. Mistress Pickles has often spoken of you.’ I sensed Maria react oddly to this news. ‘You are a friend of Mistress Pickles?’ I asked. ‘More, I should say, a recent client.’ We spent a few minutes talking to her. She was, it transpired, Mrs Tansley, her husband being a banker in the City of London. ‘He is a very busy man and, I fear, not at all a lady’s man, if you understand me?’ Maria and I of course understood perfectly. ‘But,’ said Maria, ‘in view of your acquaintance with Mistress Pickles, perhaps this was not a matter of great concern?’ ‘By no means.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

İlk yorum yapan siz olun

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak.

izmir escort izmir escort beşiktaş escort illegal bahis canlı bahis siteleri casino siteleri canlı bahis kaçak bahis bahis siteleri bursa escort görükle escort bursa escort gaziantep rus escort antep escort gaziantep escort izmir escort maltepe escort