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'It could,' she answered. 'We will have to be very careful. Above all, no-one must breath a word of what is to happen. So first we must all swear on our Honour-or rather our hoped-for Dishonour-not to say anything, not even a hint, to anyone.' By now all were becoming quite wrapped up in her plan, and quickly agreed to become sworn sisters in secrecy. There is not time to recount every detail of the plot but suffice it to say that Melissa's already well-thought-out scheme was seized upon by two of the girls whose fathers were both in the Army. Between them they had listened far too many times over the parental dinner table to accounts of military expeditions for them not to understand the necessity of good forward planning. The key to the scheme lay in the hands of Bess, the kitchen maid who had already promised to keep back enough food for their inviting guest. Unlike the Young Ladies, she was no stranger to men and their Things. 'I'm sure I'm not much of a one for reading,' she had confided in Melissa, 'nor for either of the other two Rs, but the Three Fs are another matter. Feeling, Frolicking and Fucking are an education in themselves.' She eagerly volunteered to be their accomplice. Melissa and four of the stronger girls had slipped out into the school grounds after dark. Waiting for them was Bess. She had led them down the lane and then to the edge of the common where there was a barn, half-filled with hay. 'I think I can get him to follow me in here with no trouble at all,' she had said. 'He' was a tall gipsy in the prime of life that she had already spotted while hanging round the camp.

'And as soon as he's in here, we grab him?' said one of Melissa's press gang. 'Not if you please, Miss,' said Bess. 'Beg pardon, but I would like to be repayed for my services.' 'Of course,'

Melissa had answered. 'I am sure that I can cajole a little money out of Papa when I go home…' 'Oh No, Miss! I didn't mean anything like that,' Bess had answered. 'All I know is that if I can get him excited enough to follow me in here, then I will be excited enough to want to offer him what he's after.' 'First fuck!' exclaimed Melissa. 'First fuck,' agreed Bess. 'That is only fair is it not?' 'Indeed, yes,' said Melissa. 'It was quite thoughtless of me not to have made the offer.' 'Besides,' went on Bess. 'He will be easier to capture when he is all spent. I may not have the benefits of an expensive education but kitchen work makes a girl strong in the arm and in the thighs. I can promise to quite drain him of any fighting spirit for a while.' 'So we should hide behind these bales and watch for our opportunity,' said Melissa. 'If you would, Miss. Although it is quite dark in here, I am sure that you will be able to see enough, and hear, to know when the right moment has arrived.' They had watched from the barn as Bess had gone down to the gipsy encampment. By the light of a fire they had seen her silhouetted by the gate. They could not hear what was going on but presently they saw a tall man leave the fire, where no doubt the gipsies were engaged in roasting a hedgehog or some game poached from the neighbouring estate, and walk over to her. They had heard an enticing laugh from Bess, a murmur of conversation and then she had turned back towards the barn and the ambush that waited within. As she approached, leading him by the hand, they had all hastily retired into the dark recesses of the barn. With a giggle, she had thrown herself down on the straw and raised her skirts to him. They saw a quick flash of naked flesh as her legs were spread in welcome. They saw him unbuckle and unbutton himself before first sinking to his knees before her and then covering her with his body. In the half-darkness, they could make out that Bess and the gipsy were clasping each other, locked in passionate kisses. Then he raised himself up and for a moment they saw his great swollen cock. Two of the party, this being their first sight of such an instrument of delight, gasped out in amazement and excitement. The gipsy, even in the throes of his pleasure, had looked up at the sound. 'That old barn owl,' Bess had said with great presence of mind. 'There is a nest up in the roof.' Not needing much reassurance, the gipsy had fallen to his work. Bess's thighs, the black shadow of her pussey deep between them, had seized him round the waist and she had drawn his engorged prick deep inside her. Quite beside themselves with envy, the school party had watched as the two of them coupled and wrestled on the straw. 'There was such a thrusting and a panting,' Melissa had reported, 'that it seemed some great threshing machine was at work.' Bess had been crying out and wriggling her bottom as though to clamp him forever in her. But he had continued to drive his way up and down her lover's lane as it opened up before him between the dense thickets of her pussey. Then she wrestled him, still embedded in her, over on to his back and began to ride him ever faster and faster. He responded like a thoroughbred, his prick rising to meet her downward thrusts. 'I shall never ride side-saddle again,' someone had whispered in Melissa's ear as they crouched in the darkness.

Then, as Bess and the gipsy reached their climax, straw and chaff rising in a cloud around them, he bucked and moaned and the watchers sensed the cream churning and spurting up along his great member.

Bess, like any good milkmaid, accepted every drop in her waiting receptacle, clutching at him and urging him on. Clamping his head in her hands, she pressed her open mouth against his as though she was trying to eat him, while his cum flooded into her and shudders of pleasure ran through both their bodies. Then, as their movements grew less frenzied, the watchers had to pull themselves together and remember there was work to be done. The gipsy gave one last pumping heave. Bess collapsed down on him and they lay locked together for a moment or two. The ambushers crept forward, not quite certain whether now was the time to pounce. As they hesitated, Bess raised herself up, paused, and then sat back on her heels, letting his still fat but limp prick slip out of her. Bending forward, she cupped his balls between her hands, sucked hungrily at the tip of his juice-wet cock and sat back again. She raised her arms and beckoned them forward. In a nervous scurry, Melissa and her friends scrambled across the straw and gripped and pinioned their quarry's arms and legs. Exhausted though he was, he began to struggle, looking round wildly at his attackers. Bess at once threw herself back on top of him, kissed him and whispered urgently in his ear. 'Lie still now, dear,' she had said. 'No harm is going to come to you. But there is something these friends of mine want you to do for them.' Quickly she explained what the plan was, how he was to be secreted in the school attic for no more than three days, how she personally would make sure he had three square meals a day. 'Food prepared with my own hands,' she said, giving his cock a friendly but firm squeeze. 'Better food than you'll get round that old camp fire of yours.' After having had to live on the school food for a number of years, there was not one of the girls who considered this possible, but a small lie was needed in the circumstances. Then, as the nature of the duties he would be called upon to perform became clear to him, at the thought of all the virgin pussey, the unawakened clits and the hitherto impenetrated passages waiting for him, he stopped any pretence of struggle and surrendered to his fate. So he was brought back to the school, smuggled in through a back door and led up stairs. Bess tiptoed up from the servants quarters with a big bowl of soup and several thick slices of bread. These he wolfed down like a man who hadn't eaten for days on end. 'Fucking makes you hungry,' explained Bess. 'And you've got to feed him up and keep him in condition. Anyway, I like him.' She turned to him. 'That was a fine country fuck, she said. 'Now you must trust these young ladies. There is a lot you can do for them. Besides, some of them are very well connected in these parts. I've no doubt that if you or your family are ever caught with the odd pheasant that you have poached, one or other of them will be able to have a quiet word with her father, invent some story of a small favour owed, a lost brooch returned, and nothing more will be said. The gipsy, who was not stupid, realised that he was being offered a free harvest of fucking followed by the free run of the game coverts of the area. He accepted this unusual turn of affairs with a good grace. Because we were all well brought up young ladies, it was arranged that he should be bathed and made quite clean before we would receive him. Bess meanwhile promised him that a message would be taken by her down to the camp to say that they were not to worry at his absence and that he would be returning to them in a day or so. 'But were you not a party to this plot?' I asked Gwendolen. 'Alas no,' she replied. 'I had had the misfortune to be confined to the school sanitorium with a slight chill for a couple of days, so knew nothing of it.' 'But they let you into the secret,' I said. 'They let the secret into me,' corrected Gwendolen. 'Both Melissa and Thomasina had absolutely insisted that, since had I been well, I would without doubt have played a leading role in our adventure, I should be given the opportunity to enjoy a Romany Ride.' 'That was very good of them,' I said. 'But how long did you keep him for in the end?'