Be A Dear And Give My Tight, Virgin Hole A Hard, Sloppy Pounding
Be A Dear And Give My Tight, Virgin Hole A Hard, Sloppy Pounding
Midpoint
Be A Dear And Give My Tight, Virgin Hole A Hard, Sloppy Pounding
Edmund Quimlove
Copyright 2015
Image used created by Luming/Bigstock.com
This eBook is for personal use only, and may not be copied, reproduced, or resold.
If you enjoy this book, check out other books by Edmund Quimlove:
The Pemberton’s Tea-Time Dalliances (Books 1-5):
Jonathan and Tabitha Pemberton are a mild-mannered, Victorian couple who are quite content to spend their afternoons relaxing with a hot cup of tea. That is, until Tabitha starts getting ideas. Naughty ideas. Filthy ideas. Thrilling ideas. Follow the Pembertons on their journey to explore the darkest depths of sexual bliss.
Teatime Dalliances collects Series One of the Pembertons Saga, Stories 1-5. Additionally, this collection contains an exclusive preview of what is to come in Series Two, which features a major departure for the couple, and a new, fantastical setting.
Dominate Me, My Darling:
When Jonathan Pemberton arrives home late from a night on the town, he expects that he and his wife will turn in for the night. However, she has a surprise for him. Rather than spend the evening with her sewing circle, she instead spent it purchasing a variety of bondage equipment, and she's aching for him to try it out on her. Jonathan is hesitant at first, but soon, Tabitha convinces him to tie her up and do unspeakable things to her body with whips, clamps, and hot wax. It's a wet, hard, and wild ride you won't want to miss!
I would like to dedicate this, my second book, to my second grade teacher, Ms. Primrose, who was a vile, hateful woman. You said I’d never amount to anything, but who’s laughing now, you smug bitch? WHO’S LAUGHING NOW!?
-Eddie
Jonathan and Tabitha Pemberton were just settling down to relax in the parlour after a lovely supper of mutton and roasted potatoes. Jonathan was quite impressed by Tabitha’s cooking this evening. Of course, her cooking was always of the utmost quality, but tonight, he felt that she had outdone herself.
“I say,” said Jonathan, “that was such a lovely supper that I rather hate to see it come to an end.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Tabitha, blushing, “but you flatter me far too much.”
“Nonsense,” said Jonathan. “Why, I believe that you may be the finest cook in all of New South-Chestertonshire. In fact, the supper we have just enjoyed was so delightful that I feel we must celebrate it, perhaps with a lovely dessert.”
“Oh?” said Tabitha. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, what do we have prepared? Do we still have some of that delicious cherry pie?”
“My dear husband, I must apologize, but I’m afraid I gave the last slice to the young lad who delivers our morning paper.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright,” insisted Mr. Pemberton. “After all, the lad does a good job. He’s always on time. It’s good to reward such behaviour.”
“We might yet have a bit of that lemon cake in the icebox,” suggested Tabitha.
“No, I’m afraid it is I who must apologize this time, for I devoured that cake around three o’clock this morning during one of my frequent bouts of insomnia.”
“Well, I could always whip something up,” said Tabitha. “I’ll get started right now.”
Mrs. Pemberton began to rise from her chair, but her husband was going to have none of it, and held up a hand to stop her.
“Nonsense, my dear,” he said. “The idea is to celebrate your hard work. It would hardly be fitting to allow you to slave away in the kitchen again.”
“Oh, but I really don’t mind,” said Tabitha. “In fact, I rather like making desserts.”
“I will not hear of it, dear wife! There must be some other way in which I can honour your culinary genius. There must be some sort of treat that you desire, and which I, your doting husband, can readily provide for you.”
“Well,” said Tabitha, “now that you mention it, there is one thing you could do for me.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Pemberton, “I thought there might be. And what, might I ask, is the thing which your heart desires so greatly?”
“Now, it’s not a dessert, mind you, or any sort of foodstuff.”
“That is quite alright, my dear. It need not be a treat of the edible variety. You may be treated to any sort of thing you wish.”
“Well, that’s just it,” said Tabitha. “It isn’t a thing at all. What I long for is more of an activity.”
“An activity, you say? What sort of activity do you have in mind, my darling?”
“Well,” said Tabitha, “the activity I wish to engage in is of the sexual variety.”
“Oh,” said Jonathan. “Oh, I see. So, you wish us to engage in a bit of after-dinner fornication, is that it?”
“Not just any fornication,” corrected Tabitha. “I have a particular kind of fornication in mind. One that we have not yet tried, but about which I have been ever so curious for some time now.”
“Why, we’ve just tried sticking my Sir John up your bottom only last week. You only have so many holes. I am unsure what is left that we haven’t tried already.”
“Oh, my sweet, simple husband, where is your imagination?”
“I am a banker, my dear. We are not renowned for our flights of fancy.”
“Oh, of course, how silly of me,” said Tabitha with a slight titter. “Allow me to explain. The variation I have in mind isn’t based on finding a new hole of mine to stuff your cock into, or a new position from which you can fuck me brainless. It has mostly to do with the way we relate to each other leading up to, as well as during, our rampant, carnal excursion. You see, I should like us to attempt a bit of what is known as role play.”
“Role play?” asked Jonathan, no less confused than he had been a minute ago. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Well, you see,” explained Tabitha, “in the past, whenever you have spread me wide open and given my cunt a good thrashing, we have been ourselves.”
“But of course we have,” interjected Jonathan. “Why, who else could we be but ourselves?”
“Do let me finish, Jonathan. Now, what I was going to say is that I’ve heard that some people pretend to be persons other than themselves whilst shagging in order to spice things up a bit.”
“You don’t say?” said Jonathan. “I say, the human race never ceases finding new ways to put a prick in a twat.”
“So, you’ll try it with me?”
“My love,” said Jonathan, “I do not claim to understand it, but I will do whatever you ask of me without hesitation.”
“Splendid! Then all we must do is decide what roles we shall play. Have you any ideas?”
“I must admit, I have not even the foggiest notion of who we should pretend to be. Being that it was your idea, I rather thought you’d have something prepared.”
“Well, now that you mention it,” said Tabitha, “I did have one idea for you. Someone exotic…a man with an air of adventure about him…a man who knows what it is to fearlessly stare danger in the face on a daily basis…”
“Yes? Who is it then? What role shall I be playing?”
“My dear Jonathan, you shall be a lion tamer!”
“Really? A lion tamer?”
“Do you not like it?”
“Oh, the role suits me fine. I believe there is much I can do with such a character. But why would a lion tamer come here?”
“Perhaps he’s offering his services,” proposed Tabitha.
“Honestly, Tabby, a door-to-door lion tamer? No one in a civilized country, such as ours, owns a lion. The poor man would starve.”
“Oh, Jonny, don’t overthink it. It isn’t as if we’re selling the story to a publisher. We simply need an exciting story we can act out while you bang me silly.”
“Very well, sweet woman. And what part shall you be playing?”
“Ooh,” sighed Tabitha, staring off into space as she painted a picture with her words, “I want to be a young woman, having just come of age. No man has ever laid hands on me. But something about this rugged adventurer awakes a tingling in my nether region, and I want him to take me, to ravish me, to—”
“Now, now, my love,” said Jonathan, “save some for the event itself.”
“Oh, but of course,” said Tabitha, coming to her senses. “Why don’t we begin? You go outside and knock.”
Jonathan did as his wife requested and vacated the premises. After waiting a few minutes to give his wife time to prepare, Jonathan knocked on his front door three times, in rapid succession.
“Who is it?” came a singsong voice from within the house.
“Door-to-door lion taming!” Jonathan replied.
“What’s that now?”
“I say, door-to-door lion taming, at your service!”
There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Shortly thereafter, Jonathan saw the doorknob slowly turn, and the door opened just a crack, allowing him to see his wife’s eye peeking out at him suspiciously.
“What’s this about lion taming?” said Tabitha.
“Good afternoon, young lady. My name is Nigel McTavish, and I am a lion tamer by trade. Is the man of the house available?”
“Oh my, no,” said Tabitha. “That would be my father. He’s at work right now.”
“Then, perhaps your mother is around?”
“No, I’m afraid she was recently abducted by a wandering band of nomadic savages.”
“Oh dear,” said Jonathan, taken aback by his wife’s narrative choice. “I’m quite sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, don’t be,” said Tabitha. “She was a bit of a witch.”
“Well,” said Jonathan, trying to steer this conversation in the right direction, “do you yourself have any concerns about lion safety?”
“You know,” said Tabitha, “I do have a few questions on the subject. But I don’t know if you should come in. After all, I’m so helpless…and innocent…and alone…”
“Nonsense, sweet girl. I merely wish to discuss lion taming. You’ll have no trouble from me.”
“Well…alright. As long as you promise not to take advantage of my youth and ignorance.”
“I promise that I shall do nothing of the kind.”
“Then, by all means, come inside!”
Tabitha flung the door wide open, bowing slightly and gesturing with her arm for Jonathan to enter her home. Jonathan noticed right away that Tabitha had put her hair into pigtails, and had thrown on a rather short skirt, which he hadn’t seen her wear since they were first courting; a rather risqué number that barely reached her knees. It excited Jonathan to think back on those days. Tabitha was always such a wild, unrestrained girl. It was what drew him to her in the first place.
“Have a seat, Mr. McTavish,” Tabitha said as she guided him back into the parlour. “Would you like some tea?”
“Thank you, but no,” replied Jonathan. “I’d rather get right down to business.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Now, does your family actually own any lions?”
“Oh, yes. We have one.”
“Really?”
“Well, he’s really more of a sheepdog, but I swear he has the heart of a lion.”
“All the same, that’s really not my area of expertise,” said Jonathan. “But you said you had questions on the subject, did you not?”
“Yes. How long have you been a lion tamer?”
“Why, I suppose it’s been about 15 years since I first graduated from the lion training academy. I travelled with a circus for a time, until I had enough experience to start my own business.”
“I see,” said Tabitha. “How fascinating. And you’ve tamed a great many lions?”
“Oh, yes. In my time as a lion tamer, I must have tamed more than one hundred lions.”
“Oh my, that is a lot. Aren’t you ever frightened?”
“Well, yes, from time to time. Any man who’s ever looked such a vicious beast in the eyes and claims not to have been the least bit frightened is a liar in my book.”
“You must be so very brave though, Mr. McTavish.”
“I suppose some would call me brave, but I’m simply doing the job I am paid to do, as anyone would.”
“Oh, you do yourself an injustice, Mr. McTavish. Why, I’ve only known you for five minutes, and I can already see how strong and brave you are. It looks as if your shirt can barely contain your rippling muscles. I’m sure you could face down any beast that came your way.”
“You flatter me, young lady. But perhaps there is something to what you say. I’ve yet to meet the beast that I cannot tame.”
“Truly? There has been no beast that did not bend to your charms?”
“None yet.”
“The reason I ask,” said Tabitha, “is that I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“Oh? How so, my dear?”
“There is, in fact, a most ferocious beast living in this very house. She is no lion, but I fear her just the same.”
“Not a lion? What sort of beast is she?”
“No, she is not a lion, per se, but I believe she is feline. I call her my little kitty. She is a beast more wild than any I have ever known. She hungers for the flesh of men. She seeks to devour them.”
“My, that sounds dreadfully frightening,” said Jonathan, finally starting to understand where his wife was going with all this.
“Do you understand what I’m saying Mr. McTavish? My little kitty…she has a hunger…a hunger for hot man-flesh. She wants it inside her.”
“Yes, yes, I follow you,” said Jonathan with a wink. “So, she does not seek to devour you as well?”
“She is normally quite well behaved for me, though she can be quite excitable. Sometimes she gets worked up into such a tizzy that I must spend several minutes petting her until she calms down. Sometimes she even spits at me.”
“Fascinating. That sounds like something I’d like to see. Do tell me more.”
“Perhaps you should simply come take a look at her. Would you mind?”
“Should we perhaps wait until your father is home?”
“No! Heavens, no,” said Tabitha. “The beast is mine alone. I wouldn’t want my father around while you were taming my little puss-puss.”
“You are suggesting that she is quite small?” asked Jonathan.
“Oh, ever so small,” insisted Tabitha.
“And is she quite hairy?”
“Not today,” said Tabitha with a coy grin. “She’s just been groomed.”
“I see,” said Jonathan, a note of enthusiasm in his voice. “Well, I should be happy to take a gander at your little kitty, though being that she is not a lion, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to quell her ferocious tendencies.”
“Oh, I understand, really I do,” said Tabitha, a note of desperation in her voice. “I just want you to have a go at her. And if she’s still quite riled up, perhaps you could have another go at her. You might even be able to have three goes at her before my father arrives home.”
“Very well, sweet girl. Where is it that you keep this beast locked up?”
“Oh, she’s in my bedroom. Wait here a moment while I go wake her up and get her prepared for you. When I call for you, head up the stairs to the second door on the right.”
“As you wish,” said Jonathan, rising to his feet politely as Tabitha stood. She exit
ed the parlour into to the foyer, then turned to head up the staircase. “I shall be waiting on the edge of my seat,” Jonathan called after her as he took his seat once more.
Jonathan spent the next few minutes twiddling his thumbs in his own parlour, doing his best to stay in the mindset of his character. Here he was, a traveling lion tamer, alone with a rather lustful young woman. Dare he climb the stair to her room? Dare he enter her private chamber, part her smooth, lily-white thighs, and gaze upon her most holy of holies? Dare he bury his musket betwixt the nether lips of such an innocent girl, whose father might return at any time?
“Oh, yes,” Jonathan mutter quietly to himself. “Oh, yes, I do dare.”
“I’m ready,” came the singsong call from up the stairs.
“I’m coming!” Jonathan called back.
“Oh, you soon will be…”
Jonathan climbed the staircase he’d climbed a thousand times before, but with new purpose. He was a brave man who looked ferocious beasts unflinchingly in the eye, and at the end of this hall was his next conquest. He reached the door and flung it open powerfully. The curtains were drawn shut, leaving the room very dim, but he could just make out the nude form of his wife poised at the edge of the bed.
“Quickly!” she shouted. “Shut the door, or she’ll get loose!”
Jonathan did as he was told, and after stepping inside, quickly slammed the door behind him.
“It’s quite dark in here,” said Jonathan. “How will I locate this beast of yours?”
“I will guide you to her. But first, you must prepare yourself. She is very sensitive to smells. Any errant odor might set her off. Might your clothing smell of other beasts?”
“My clothing? Ah! Yes, my clothing!” said Jonathan, catching on. “There have been recently tamed lions rubbing against my clothing.”
“Then, you’d best remove them,” whispered Tabitha through the darkness. “I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Not in the slightest,” replied Jonathan in a low voice. He proceeded to remove his shoes, his suit coat, his vest, his trousers, his shirt, his underpants, and his socks, until finally, Mr. Pemberton was fully nude and ready for whatever his wife had in store for him. “Now what shall I do?”
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