'OH-WOH!', I heard Jane cry out in that instant. One gendeman had succeeded another in pistoning her bottom and undoubtedly he must have found a foamy home therein. Julie was busy sucking on a cock while Harry nested in her quim. All three of us were being put 'to homely use' as afterwards was said. I thought the phrase dismissive, but Jane and Julie did not. 'After all, there is a grain of truth in it', said Jane. I put out my tongue at her. 'It means we are owned', I said. 'In part we are-but what's to that if we are being pleasured well?', she countered. But that was two days afterwards, I being one who sometimes broods on things and then repeats them later. My conqueror had meanwhile risen, cock-adrip in that heavy way it does. His naked toes stirred sensuously up and down my stockinged legs, he gazing down on me appraisingly. 'Such silky skin, such firmness everywhere', he murmured, making me feel like a filly rather than a girl. 'She must visit us. I love her mouth', his wife said, and continued leaning over me with quite a tender smile, brushed back my hair and kissed the corner of my mouth.
'Let me sit up', I said. I had gained possession of myself once more. My cunny throbbed agreeably. I shifted up and placed my back against the chair-seat. Jane-in a sweet agony-was receiving then her second spoutings, kneeling up upon a chair, her bottom poised to the invading prick. I saw with awe her orifice gripped like a baby's mouth around the rigid stem. Julie lay prone. Her lips were creamy, and her cunny no less so. 'She looks like you', the woman said of Jane, and asked, 'Are you sisters?' 'Yes', I said. I wanted the room to move away from me, and all to vanish. 'Good. Then you will both come and see us; I do hope you will'. 'I want to pee', I whispered and got up. The floor rocked a little underneath my feet.
'Sometimes he likes to watch us pee', the woman said. She made to get up with me, but I brushed her hand away. It is best to be unspeaking sometimes; sometimes it is best. The words that are not said are often the best words. Jane uttered up a little 'OOOOH!' and was uncorked. Hearing, I heard, but did not look, and passed into the hall and was about to mount the stairs when voices came from a side room. 'Bad show, yes, about Smithers', I heard a deep voice say, and recognised it for that of Jenkins, but of a different tone, and with an accent level with the other man's who then replied to some effect that one should pay one's gambling debts. 'Absolutely, old fellow', Jenkins said. I heard them make to exit and stepped quickly into the morning room where the half open door concealed me as they passed. Waiting till they had gone, I slipped without and stole upstairs. My need to pee had grown on me. I could not even wait to close the closet door. No sooner had I sat upon the bowl than Aramintha swept in, I gurgling out my wine and punch into the waiting water. She closed the door, knelt quickly inbetween my open legs, soothed both hands up my thighs to clasp my naked hips and murmured, 'Kiss me!' Awkward as the posture was, I bent. Mouths met. My belly tingled, straining. 'Open your legs more', she insisted up against my mouth and, as I did, she slipped her slim hand inbetween the porcelain's cold rim and cupped my lovelips to receive their golden rain. Had I not done this before?, she asked. I shook my head between our kissings, squirted yet again and felt it flow upon her fingers, felt a luxury of sin in my still lingering naivete. Drawing me up, she brought my wet thighs to her own uncovered ones, wearing as she was but a chemise and stockings. -'Nice! There are so many things you have to learn', she said, then spun us both around and sat in turn, and insisted that I did the same to her. O sparkling rills!
The strange act quite excited me; I knew not why, the splashing of her pee upon my palm. A relative, she said, had taught her this and made her piss upon his hand when she was young. Then he would raise her bodily up from the toilet seat and make her young legs wind around his waist, lowering her wet cleft slowly down to meet his rampant prick until it sheathed within her. 'Sometimes he made me pee first on his cock, or sometimes on his chest. How wet we were!', she laughed, and rose and wiped us both with a soft sponge. 'Jenkins', I said.
She knew immediately; she knew. 'Have you uncovered him?', she laughed, and I had nothing left to hide. 'Twice over now, but in two different ways. I heard him speaking downstairs with a friend of yours'. 'Oh, as to that… Well, yes-we have dissembled, I confess. He loves to play the role of servitor, and much good does it do him, as you know. It is a fair way to thread the ladies who come here to seek adventure, on the quiet'. 'His daughters, though; he is very roguish, is he not?', I asked. 'Along that road you travelled with him then? I must confess, it is his favourite sport.
But daughters, no; he has none, in real truth. 'Tis all a fantasy that he enjoys. He has his own estate not far from here. Men have their foibles, dear. You must play up to them in order that you profit most.
I have known dear Charles (yes, that is his real name), oh, on and off for years and years. Shall you tell him that you know? I do not mind, and nor will he, but if you are clever, Emily, you will play his little game just a bit more-though always have a hook in what you do'.
'A hook?', I echoed. 'He thinks himself to be the fisherman, my pet. His only trick, though, is to play the role of a rough servitor and work on such susceptibilities as he can find. He has not missed his role as an actor, as some might say, for he plays it on the stage of life itself. He has two sons. I vow that had he had a daughter, he would never dared have touch her. Harry does not agree with me but I think that. Hence if you fulfill his dream, he must reward you. That is your hook: the fisherman is caught!' 'I shall not come down again', I said, whereat she tilted her head quite prettily and gave me a sympathetic smile. 'I am not wanting a needlessly long night, either, Emily. I will soon see them off, in any case. Elizabeth asks after you. May I say that you will visit her?'
'I may; I do not know; I may'. I edged towards the closet door; she followed. 'I will ask Jenkins to move your empty baggage', Aramintha said. I could feel the smile her lips did not produce. Her back towards me, she went quickly down.
CHAPTER 14
I have heard the cries of the forlorn who often say, 'I am at the crossroads of my life', and look to one to give directions. Being of occasionally morbid mind, I envisage immediately four muddy, empty roads, some flanked by trees and others by broad fields, and all an emptiness, a lonely sea of mud and waiting wet the farmers have deserted. There are no signposts. No one else invades that misty scene of silent grass, and fog amid the boughs of trees deserted by the birds. A cloaked and timourous one arrives, lamp held with little hope and-having cast around and finding neither light nor dark but only that unease that lies between the two-takes hopelessly upon one of the tracks towards an horizon that ever further moves away, away, oh on and on, the long, long lea away. Morbidity, however, brings me to desire. Moods come upon me when I wish to be slothful, desire to be unclothed almost against my will, and bundled, badgered, coaxed into being mounted, then to feel the stinging, surging, soothing of the prick inside my cunny, lying plaintive underneath the heaving male. I think of myself thus as 'being worked'. I do not mind. I may by turns, by other wendings of my mind, be maid or mistress, wife or daughter, whore or nun. So many words and actions can excite in changing roles. Whether I would see Elizabeth again or whether I would cast myself in the path of Jenkins, I did not know, and slept on it. Upon the morrow, however, the false manservant had left, or had appeared to do so by his absence. That small thing decided me. I had used the house for a moment, had been used in it as well. Even so, it had a comfort and an ambiance I liked, and hence I said to Aramintha that I would visit Elizabeth that afternoon. Her house being but four miles from theirs, I would return in several hours, I said. 'If you then wish to, Emily, yes, but take your nightgown just in case', she smiled. 'Oh pouf! Your mind runs in one channel, Aramintha!', I replied, but even so I sneaked a toothbrush in my reticule. Was it a journey that I really wished to make? I was not sure, but even so it got me out into the world again. Fears, wonderings, desires, doubts, hesitations, all mingle in the mind, and to no purpose usually, for what will occur will occur once the right foot has moved a single step before the left. Elizabeth greeted me with great pleasure in a drawing room far too ornate for my taste. Her husband was away, she said, though uttered it with some relief. All the time speaking, all the time speaking, she stood close to me and touched my face, my breasts, my thighs. 'I was itching for you to come again, and you have chosen the right day: a perfect day, in fact. I thought of you, upstairs just now, and wished you here'. 'Upstairs?' I have occasionally an empty, foolish habit in repeating words. 'Indeed, and I will show you. Fortunately he is very quiet. One has to depend so much upon discretion, does one not? I love your grey dress-how it moulds your breasts and shows your bottom to perfection, Emily. Come-the young man in question will delight you; I am sure of that'. 'The young…?'