B00JORD99Y EBOK

by A. Vivian Vane

  Mary's bottom clenched around their makeshift cock. It stretched her wide, bending the firm muscles of her buttocks apart and straining the rim of her asshole, and Mary loved it. Her pussy drooled with desire, dribbling little gleaming strands of wetness that dangled until they broke and spattered on the sheets beneath her, but she wouldn't have asked Jennifer to switch holes for all the world. Vague notions of preserving her maidenhead aside, she was still too enraptured by the sensation of having her bum fucked to want to change anything. (Jennifer had, of course, also pointed out a few nights back that it was a bit unsanitary to pull the same thing out of one hole and stick it into another, and they hadn't yet fashioned a second toy for pussy-pounding.)

  Taut flesh sucked wetly as Jennifer leaned back and eased the baluster from Mary's well-fucked ass. The noblewoman groaned in protest. For a moment she stretched even wider, gasping in pleasure, and then the smooth wooden bulb at the head of the polished shaft popped free. A cool rush of air blew in over her strained flesh. Panting, Mary shuddered, a tiny part of her still deeply disturbed by how incredibly exotic she found being stretched so loose and wide.

  The door thumped again, making both of them jump. Jennifer laughed and gave Mary a swat on the bottom. "Go get it!" she urged, making frantic little waving motions toward the door. The bed bounced and swayed beneath them, making the redhead's tits jiggle and Mary's larger mounds slap against the sheets. "Grab a robe or something -- I have to clean this off!" She waved vaguely at the wooden cock, which Mary looked away from with a hasty jerk of her head. She was coming to accept that their new form of play occasionally meant a little cleanup afterward, but she still didn't want to think about it more than she had to.

  Unfortunately, the feeling of wet slackness between her cheeks didn't seem likely to give her a choice as she stumbled to her feet and pulled a peignoir out of her half-unpacked steamer trunk. A cooling trickle of wetness ran down the inside of Mary's thigh -- the mingled juices of her pussy and Jennifer's, both of which were used in liberal quantities to slick Mary's bum for penetration. Cursing, she swiped at the musky overflow with a palm, already tugging her robe into some semblance of decency and hurrying for the stairs as whoever was at the door thumped it yet again.

  "I'm coming!" the noblewoman cried, and ignored Jennifer's wicked chuckle at her word choice. Warm air blew out of her bowels as she jogged down the stairs, and she groaned, clenching her strong muscles to try and close the loosened hole faster. A little more of their slick juices squirted out onto her thighs as she hit the floor of the entrance hall and hurried over to the door.

  Yanking the door open just a crack, Mary peered out, awkwardly aware of how flustered and rumpled she looked in her green peignoir, with her dark hair loose and tangled in its short bob. Her eyes widened in shock.

  The visitor did not look out of place at the front entrance of their manor house. In fact, in his elegant riding clothes and polished leather boots, he looked like he should be the one opening the door, or better still having a servant do it for him. Mary was abruptly jolted out of the lovely paradise she had been inhabiting with Jennifer, and back into the real world where she had at least some noble duties to perform, not the least of which was being ready to answer the door in something other than her nightclothes!

  Fortunately, the handsome young man -- several years older than she, with dark hair much curlier and actually a bit longer than hers -- was one of the few people Mary didn't have to worry about embarrassing herself in front of. He had already embarrassed himself enough for at least two children, as far as their noble parents were concerned.

  "Mary?" her brother asked, a hint of surprise on his face as he took in her appearance. "I'm just back from London. Is this...a bad time for you?"

  A large coach stood behind him, with a footman driving, and Mary hastily tugged the front of her robe more tightly closed over her bosom. "Jack!" she replied, still stunned. "No -- no, it's fine. I'm always glad to see you. It's just been, um, a busy day." She cursed herself mentally; a silk peignoir didn't look like a "busy day" at all, except for the kind of busy day she desperately wanted to avoid making her brother think about.

  The two of them had never been particularly close, though always fond. Jack had been old enough to leave the home when Mary was just hitting her first awkward growth spurt, and had promptly made a name for himself as a dashing young gallant in the Navy, which meant that every time he came home the house filled up with eligible bachelorettes who crowded Mary out of the way.

  He had gone on to get ungallantly drummed out of the Navy for supporting a mutiny against his captain, which seemed to have disappointed the bachelorettes and everyone else along with them. Mary had never quite understood the scandal of it all, since it sounded like the captain had been a raving madman and the mutiny the only thing that got any of the crew home alive. But the commoners had still gone to prison, and Jack had been publicly whipped and discharged, and ever since then he had been a bit of a rover, about whom occasional odd stories floated back to dismay the Baron and Baroness.

  Mary had assumed that Jack would go on being more "absentee" than "landlord" as far as the new estates in Ireland were concerned, and she was not at all sure what to do with him on her doorstep, not least because it was, technically, his doorstep.

  "Er -- it's so good to see you," she began, lamely, acutely aware of his quirked eyebrow and curious expression. Footfalls sounded on the floor behind her, and a moment later Jennifer's slender hand joined Mary's on the door, pulling it wider to reveal the pair of women. A glance over Mary's shoulder reassured her that the maid had pulled on something like proper working attire (at least by the Smythe's relaxed standards). The redhead flashed Jack a sunny smile.

  "Hullo, Jack," she greeted him, with a familiarity that would have shocked any other noble family. "It's been a while. What are we going to hear from London when the gossip catches up with you this time?" She grinned, and Mary frowned worriedly. "We sent the other servants off before we arrived from the Continent, I'm afraid. It's been just us girls these last few nights. You're not planning on having your man stay with you, are you?"

  She nodded at the coach, and Jack glanced over his shoulder as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh," he said absently, "not at nights, I suppose, then, no. He can stay in town and come round in the mornings. Is that all right?"

  "Perfectly," Jennifer said with a sunny smile, and Mary could practically see possibilities dancing in her maid's eyes as she sized up Jack's handsome height and breadth. There was going to need to be a firm chat about what "off limits" meant, very clearly.

  "Well," Mary broke in reluctantly. "Come in, I suppose! Have you been here at all before? We didn't really know where to stay. Oh! But, er, why don't you take the bedroom at the back of the house? It's ever so much bigger, and the front suite is, is..." She froze, trying to think of an excuse that would keep her brother out if those were his preferred rooms, just in case Jennifer hadn't put all their toys away.

  "...is covered in mess from my sorting out the boxes that were left in the carriage house," Jennifer put in smoothly. "Old traps and springs and all sorts of nonsense. I do love to tinker -- always playing with some new toy or other, you know -- but half of them are probably still covered in some sort of slippery grease." She winked at Mary, who fought down the urge to throttle her maid. "We couldn't possibly make you deal with it. Take the master suite at the back, please! It hasn't been used at all."

  Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Don't tell me Mary's making you sleep in that closet that passes for servant's quarters at the back, downstairs?" he asked.

  "Oh, no," Jennifer replied earnestly. "We share a bed. Ever since she was little, Miss Mary slept better with company. And to be perfectly honest with you, the place is a bit draughty...we've been doing all we can to keep each other warm at night!"

  Mary blushed furiously, painfully aware that it was rather late in the day for her to still be in her peignoir even without Jennifer dropping hints tha
t a child could have picked up. Had her maid always been so shameless around Jack? Mary couldn't remember; it had been years since the three of them were all under the same roof. But if her brother noticed anything out of the ordinary, he did a wonderful job pretending to be blithely oblivious, and he simply smiled and nodded at the pair of them.

  "Well, all right, then," he said, waving for his man to start bringing his trunks in. "Is there any chance you could put a spot of lunch on? I'll settle in and come join you ladies. Oh! That's right. Mary, this is for you." Fishing in his jacket, he produced a small cream-colored square of paper and thrust it into the startled Mary's hand. "Can you dine with the Countess Antrim and her daughter-in-law tonight? I know it's short notice, but her man caught me in town, and she's apparently a bit cross you haven't looked her up yet." He looked mildly reproving, and Mary blushed, painfully reminded of the social obligations she'd been neglecting in favor of Jennifer's more intimate attentions. "We are her neighbors, Mo. Try to put a good foot forward, eh?"

  Chastened by both the gentle reproof and the use of her childhood nickname (which no one but Jack ever used), Mary nodded her head meekly. "Yes, of course," she said. "I'll have Jennifer lay my things out, and take your coach, if that's all right."

  Belatedly, she realized that dinner would leave Jennifer alone with her brother for hours...and her maid was plainly smirking behind her polite, patient, "don't mind the help here" smile.

  Damn, Mary thought. Somehow, this was all going to go queer, she just knew it -- queerer even than being fucked in the bum with a bit of bannister by your maid!

  ~

  Jennifer emerged from Mary's bathtub in a cloud of steam. She stretched luxuriously, feeling like a goddess rising from the sea. Lightly scented water cascaded down her body and gleamed in the light of several scattered candles.

  The manor's bath was primitive but effective. A shallow basin underneath the high-legged copper tub allowed a fire to be stoked directly beneath it, and then banked down to keep the water at something like a tolerable temperature. So long as you didn't mind feeling a bit like a stew being cooked in its kettle, it worked better than a number of more technologically advanced baths that Jennifer had tried.

  Over the course of her long, luxurious soak, the maid had paid more than a little attention to the soft, strawberry-pink folds of her pussy, fondling the dainty curves lovingly beneath the surface of the water. She couldn't believe her luck -- not one, but two dark-haired hotties to ogle around the house! And Jack was still the same charming rogue he'd always been, just like his sister had always been a prettily quiet little lady.

  A lady in public, anyway, she thought with a chuckle. The discovery of Mary's weak spot -- her incredibly sensitive bottom, and her lust for any kind of play that involved it -- had started one of the happiest weeks in Jennifer's life. She didn't even have to wonder whether Jack harbored any similarly wicked lusts, only which ones they were; the gossip from London (and anywhere else he traveled) was more than enough to convince Jennifer that a libertine streak ran deeply through the Lisle barony.

  That, of course, left only the question of how she was going to bridge the gap between Jack's well-traveled wickedness and Mary's more recent liberation!

  Stepping from the tub, Jennifer bypassed the robe she had worn downstairs entirely. She wrapped one of the manor's soft towels around her midsection instead, forming a tight little tube of a "dress" that barely hid her nipples at the highest point, and fell only just past the crinkled folds of her sex at the lowest. The rectangular cloth hid the curve of her waist, unfortunately, which meant she lost her enticing hourglass figure...but she wasn't planning on wearing the towel for long anyway.

  With a mischievous grin, Jennifer shook her wet red hair out and tossed it down her back, loose and dripping. Her breasts bounced with the motion, and she had to adjust the fit of the towel to keep it from sliding off her soft swells. A glass clinked down the hall as she fiddled -- Jack was still in the small living room, then, seated with a book and a bit of brandy where she had left him. Jennifer chuckled in satisfaction.

  Nudging the bathroom door open, the redhead padded down the hall on bare feet, shivering a little at the cold that seeped through the wood. She strolled into the common room as if she had expected to find it empty. Her eyes widened in mock surprise as Jack looked up to see her in nothing but her towel...and then she kicked a toe under the edge of the rug, pitching toward him with devastating accuracy (and with a dainty cry of dismay for his benefit).

  Jack rose to the challenge with all the muscular grace Jennifer had hoped for. Brandy snifter still in one hand, he came up off his couch in a fighter's lunge. The crook of his arm intersected Jennifer right around her midsection, breaking her fall and pulling her bosom snugly up against his chest. She gasped and squirmed as they met, undoing the halfhearted knot she'd placed in her towel with a wiggle of her shoulders; it slumped at once, held in place only by the pressure of their bodies against one another. Jennifer looked up through her lashes with a warm, grateful smile.

  "Oh!" she breathed, making her voice far more fluttery than it needed to be. "I am so sorry, Jack. I thought you'd gone upstairs. When I saw you sitting there, I missed a step and fell. Whatever would I have done without you?"

  The gleam in Jack's eye told her that he believed her innocent protestations exactly as much as she did -- and enjoyed them just as much, as well. When Mary had been younger, Jennifer had behaved herself for the girl's sake (although she was a good six years older and quite a bit more years beyond that in terms of worldly knowledge), but she'd always thought she'd caught Jack sneaking appraising glances. Finally coming into her opportunity to seduce him, she was pleased to find him every bit as willing to be seduced as she'd imagined.

  "You wouldn't have fallen, for one thing," Jack said smoothly. His eyes flicked down, and his eyebrows up, and Jennifer stifled a grin as the nobleman shifted against her, clearly transfixed by the tantalizing valley of her cleavage as it threatened to bounce free of the towel altogether. "You're all right, I hope?" he asked.

  "Oh yes," Jennifer said. She laid a hand on Jack's chest, flattening the palm and brushing his bare collarbone with her fingertips. Dressed down for the evening, the dark-haired man wore only a pair of linen sailor's trousers and a loose shirt with a rather wide vee at the front. Jennifer pressed herself eagerly in close, parting her legs just wide enough to let Jack's crotch nestle up against hers. She could feel a distinctive bulge through the linen trousers.

  Jack cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, clearly embarrassed despite his reputation. Jennifer did her best to work up a pretty blush of her own, though her inward glee was entirely shameless. She squirmed, knowing how pleasant her breasts felt when they squished up invitingly against a man's chest.

  "Forgive me," she murmured, tracing the curve of his neck with a fingertip. "It was so thoughtless of me to leave my robe in the bathroom. I've become used to it being just us girls, around here." Her other had ran along Jack's ribs, down toward the plane of his hips. She gripped him gently and pulled his crotch tight against hers. The hem of her towel draped over his bulge, letting the linen trousers brush her inner thighs directly.

  "I've forgotten how to behave with a man around," she whispered, twining the curls at the back of his neck around a finger. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly. Her bosom shifted with each panting breath, and she hid a smile by nuzzling up against his neck. "You must think I'm perfectly dreadful. Just a common girl with no class at all. Your sister is ever so kind to me, but I know I'm nothing like as good as your family expects."

  Jack's eyebrows rose again, and he looked back down at her. His embarrassment seemed to subside, replaced by amusement -- though the bulge, she was pleased to notice, was doing anything but subsiding!

  "I think," he said, switching his grip slightly and bending forward over her, so that she tilted back like a heroine on stage, "that you're every bit as good as I expected, Jennifer. And I think y
ou know just what I'm expecting now, too." He grinned, gripped her tighter, and thrust with his hips, nudging the cloth-covered dome of his cock right up against her cunt. Jennifer shivered eagerly. She had quite deliberately teased herself almost to the point of release in her bath, leaving her body eager for the chase, and her crotch throbbed with delicious desire.

  "Why, handsome Jack," she said, almost purring in her eagerness. She breathed in the smell of his skin, and the faint musk of her needy slit. "Whatever could you mean? You're far too clever for me, especially when I'm not used to being held by someone so noble. And so handsome." Leaning in, she brushed a kiss against his neck, feather-light, and was rewarded with an eager tremble in his arms. "You must think me dreadfully forward," she whispered, craning her neck upward so that her breath blew across his earlobe, "but I'm glad I tripped. You're so very noble, I feel quite comfortable around you. Why, I would even feel safe if I were...naked."

  Jennifer gave a rolling shrug of her shoulders as she spoke, and she pulled her bosom back just far enough to let the towel slip from her body entirely. Looking up, she met Jack's eyes, and she batted her eyelashes innocently as his gaze shot down the front of her naked form.

  "Miss Cooney," Jack said, chuckling and setting his brandy snifter down carefully, "you're a minx."

  Then he grabbed her and kissed her, pulling her head up to meet his with one hand while the other slipped down to grope her bottom eagerly. As their tongues intertwined and her legs parted, Jennifer had to wonder what the actual, proper noble response to someone like her would be. Was it polite to accept such an obvious offer, on the theory that spurning it would be a slight to the lady's attractiveness? Or was a nobleman supposed to resist all such temptations? (In which case Jack was being a very bad boy, as it was his tongue slipping past her lips and not the other way around.) Jennifer didn't actually care much, but it would be fun to ask Mary later, preferably at an awkward moment.