“Noo-noo-nooo!” sobbed Adelaide, her lovely tight bottom rotated much as does a small ball when placed on top of a fierce jet of water, her hips swivelling as though she were striving to shake off the dire stinging of the cane.
How cowardly I felt-for again I wished to shout out, “No!” in echoing of my sisters own sweet, plaintive cries, but already my ardent stem throbbed out in the enclosing palm of Lady Somner, and with some faint squeaking of the ottoman I was joined on the other side by Caroline who boldly opened up the gap the more through which we peered, for she knew well enough that my sister would give no attention to the distant wall. Her palm engaged my balls and drew them out the while her mother frigged my cock.
“How well she does, Mama, does she not?” asked Caroline in quite a breathless tone.
“Indeed she does-just as I knew she would, my pet.”
Already I wanted to come, but I gritted my teeth and held back my spermaceous flow. Their cheeks-warm-velvety-both pressed to mine. I knew nothing so lewd before, nor nothing so exciting as this was. My breathing sounded coarsely, as did theirs. Groping Lady Somner's skirt, I rolled it up and felt her large, plump bottom naked to my hand-my other being already engaged under Caroline's sweet globe and, with reaching fingers, feeling both their twats.
“Whee-hee-heee!” squealed Adelaide, for the cane appeared to meet her harder then and made her heated bottom writhe the more. Its cheeks were strawberries and cream and looked as luscious as they ever did.
“One more, and then Papa will cork her,” came from Caroline.
No sooner had she spoken than “zeee-aah!” sounded from Adelaide whose glowing orb received the fiercest and most biting sweep that caused her back to arch, her head to rise, both hands pressed down upon the counterpane.
“Down, Girl! Head and shoulders down!” barked Lord Somner who, without ado, cast down the cane and ripped his trousers open at the front, displaying to our view a massive prick thick as the handle of a garden broom and twice as long as Adelaide's slim, opened hands. At that her hips were clamped in his strong grasp and motionless were held as his stiff tool approached her hot-seared cheeks, the swollen crest urging between the riven hemispheres.
“Nooo-ah! Oh, it's too big, too big!” shrieked Adelaide whose titties swung, her torso twisting while he nubbed it deeper in, we viewing all in profile-the thick, throbbing stem engaged between her pink-scorched, cheeks. I watched her teeth distinctly grit, her eyes roll up, her head shake madly-all to no avail. He held her as an eagle holds a smaller bird and then-succeeding in engaging her tight nether hole-clamped tightly on her neck with his right hand and held her head down while he urged it in.
“Goo-ah! Goo-ah! Oh, no!” my sister choked. Her eyes bulged, hands clawed, but by then Lord Somner had sunk his yearning tool half in and thus with straddled legs he stood, his trousers slipping down to show his trundle-like thighs, his swollen balls.
A burbling came from Adelaide. Her shoulders sank the more, her bottom seemed to rear to him as if in abject surrender to his lordly whim.
“There, my girl, you are taking cock where all young ladies should,” he croaked.
“Oh, no more, please-oh sir!” and yet her cry was softer then, he standing statue with his prick half up her stricken bottom.
“Quiet now! You'll learn discretion thus! Were your Mama here, would you make alarms?” he growled at her-this admonition seeming to confuse my sister who fell quiet save for her intermittent sobs. Another inch she then received in her tight hole. Her face turned sideways and her eyes seem quite to stare into my own, though in all truth she saw naught, as she afterwards confessed. Or rather, saw naught but her own lewd dreams, as I suspected. “Give me your bottom, girl. Come now-or you'll receive the cane again. How else can you be trained?” he croaked.
“I… Oooh! Oooh! oh! gar-haaar!” came then from Adelaide, for with one mighty surging of his powerful hips, he corked her to the full and held her bottom cheeks pulsating, wriggling to his flesh, bringing a moaning cry from her, whereat he was then still again and indeed was “stilling” her as I learned it was called. Without restraint I then inserted a digit in each of the bottomholes that were at that moment prey to my own hands, receiving from both Lady Somner and my own dear love and eager, husky “Yes!” in full accord. Indeed, their hips surged back and forth, my balls rolling on the palm of Caroline while her libertine Mama caressed my horny prick.
“Did you not hear our moans, our cries?” I asked my sister afterwards. Naive as the question was, I failed to comprehend the utterly overwhelming sensations she had endured.
“I saw naught, I heard naught save for my own moans. I scarce knew where I was, Harry. I had not taken a prick as big in my bottomhole for years.” She blushed and dropped her head and still was timid-to tell me all, and yet I knew. I recall our sitting on the bed together-that is to say, the one she had afterwards been accorded. I recall stroking her cheek and bringing her soft lips again and again to my own in the sweetest of kisses. I recall caressing the polished gourds of her tits whose nipples remained stiff and eager for hours after she had once been put to her trials by cane and cock. Once more, indeed, for she confessed to me at last that it was Papa who had first cleaved her bottom cheeks after bringing the crop to her bare bottom and then stilling her by burying his penis slowly in her wriggling bottom.
“How badly you will think of me,” she sobbed, but I- a little wiser then-sensed that odd mixture of mutiny and surrender that brings so many girls to yield to the insurgent sperm, the throbbing rod of flesh to which their satiny globes must yield.
“You minx-you enjoyed it.” I chided her tenderly. She laughed despite herself and allowed me to bear her back and urge myself between her stockinged legs.
“I suppose you did it with Caroline while you were watching,” she rejoined.
“You enjoyed it,” I repeated, determined to be the victor.
“Perhaps I did.” A low gasp from her. By then my cock was already slipping upwards into the oily, silky recesses of her cunny whose walls gripped my cock spongily as if they had never received one before. “It feels rude,” she said, “but lovely once it's right up and you get u… u… used to it… Oh, Harry!”
Our tongues were licking out their love-game once again. We had been left alone to our pleasure by the Somners and by Caroline. There were dreams, desires, we did not speak of even in the bout. The best are always hidden in the mind and are as condiments to fleshly bliss. “That which cannot be spoken of, or is expressed only in broken, tattered words, is always the best of it,” so Caroline has truly said. The images form, are tenuous as silk scarves in the breeze, are butterflies, will not be caught nor rendered into words, for words are frozen things, are but the coinage of desire and may be freely interchanged, whereas desires are convoluted and will not uncoil to trap themselves within an alphabet.
“The only dictionary of love is in the eyes. The lonely and uncared for pick at cobwebs in the night, and cobwebs have no pages. Such a nonsense are my words, and yet you'll find them true.”
The words were Adelaide's, long after we had entered into this strange life.