Rick was surprised to find her cunt so full of juices. She had been as flowing, once she got started, as young Jane on the boat. She had been a finer fuck than Mrs. Cruise, who seemed to have some Pilgrim blood spoiling her from really and truly enjoying a young cock riding up, inside her. Mrs. Witherdine, being wealthy enough, could ignore all that and just enjoy it. Rick had not thought an old woman could summon such juice out of her loins, could enjoy fucking as much as Mrs. Witherdine obviously just had; he thought he still had a lot to learn about the very rich.
Just then a bell rang. Not a harsh warning bell, not one to jangle the nerves during or after a satisfying screw, but a soft, tinkling, gentle bell suggesting that there might be something else that needed doing.
Rick thought it meant that it was time for him to dismount, get off, but Mrs. Witherdine seemed to pay no attention at all to the bell, held him a little longer and kissed the side of his face.
Then, before he knew it, Rick found himself out of her, sitting upright on the bed beside her as Mrs. Witherdine wrapped a robe around her body and stood up. She passed a cool hand down his front to lift his limp but still long cock. It was slippery but drying fast. Mrs. Witherdine looked at it and felt a thrust of blood surge through it as it hinted at another rise.
"Thank you," she said. "Let me admit, Mr. Temple" -her voice had once again turned direct, officious, but this time there was a degree of acceptance in it -"Let me admit: at first, I thought you were going to be another one of those summer kids who get their rocks off at the very first touch of a cunt. Cod knows I've looked at enough and experimented with enough young bucks to know that most of you just get it in and move it back and forth a little and bingo, you hit the jackpot, you're coming and spilling over like an oil transport off the California coast."
She was unable to keep up her officiousness, however, and leaned over suddenly and sucked the long cock between her lips. She licked the head clean, slurped at the hardening shaft, then let it all go.
"I will be busy for the rest of the day. It's too bad. I scheduled some people. I didn't think I would like you this much." She walked toward the door that led to her office-bedroom-sitting room. She stopped before the three-way mirror and brushed her silver hair with a monogrammed brush, then walked to the door and opened it. Looking back at Rick, she said, "There is a bath in the adjoining room." She nodded toward another door. "Marie will be up shortly to help you, and she will show you out. I will call you again in a few days, but I will give you advance notice."
Rick sat on the bed, his hard-on in his lap. This old lady had really turned him on. He grinned at her with his best summery, cheerful, happy, promising smile and she blew him a kiss, then closed the door.
He flung himself back on the bed, sinking deep into her goose-down pillows. He pulled the top satin sheet up over his naked body, turned it down just over his cock, and lay with his hands behind his head. The world was going to be his oyster.
There was a soft rapping at the second door. Without waiting to be told she could enter, Marie came inside and stood at the foot of the bed. She looked at Rick's body as he lay in the mistress' bed and she noted the swelling under the sheets at his crotch. He grinned at her as if he would invite her to bite it if she wanted.
She grinned back. "You just tuck that in somewhere else, Mister Man. Don't you go bothering Marie with things she ain't going to have."
He spoke softly, but honestly. "It's yours if you want it." Rick had only fucked one black girl in his life, a coed at his college who had sworn she was a virgin as she was swallowing his cock. They had been lying on the campus lawn near each other, each studying their own books, and Rick had inched closer and closer to the girl and finally could reach her snatch with his bare foot and he set her on fire with his toes. She had rolled over finally and unzipped his pants and taken his cock in her mouth. The first words out of her when she let him go were, "I'm a virgin." Rick had promised to be gentle, then eased her into some bushes and slipped her pants off her dark brown hips. He had been incredibly excited at the sight of her very black, very thick and curly pubic hair and when she parted her legs he moved his lips down into the pink heady vulva and his tongue began to stroke softly, slowly across her clit until he had her on fire again and then his cock went into her as if it was sliding into a greased glove.
Marie only scowled at him. "Look here, Mister Man. I got mine somewhere else, and the mistress she gets hers where she can get it. We all got problems, but there's no use in mixing my problems with her problems. Now you get your white ass out of that bed and, let me, make it. As soon as you're slicked up I'll show you out and we can all get back to business."
Rick got out of bed, as she directed, stood in front of her bare-ass naked, and said, "Okay."
"That's better," Marie said, moving around the other side of the bed. She didn't give his cock a second glance. "Use the bathroom through that door there," she gave it a backward nod, "and I'll have your clothes ready."
He obeyed. He realized that people using the house were used to obeying the women who ran it, whether it was Mrs. Witherdine or Marie giving the orders.
When he finished in the bathroom, Marie handed him his clothes and he dressed and followed her toward a third door. He glanced back at the room and saw that Marie had stripped off the old sheets and put new ones on the bed, freshened the pillows, arranged a small cluster of flowers on the bed table. The room looked and smelled fresh and inviting, ready for Mrs. Witherdine to crawl into bed tonight in a dignified manner proper for a fifty-year-old matron.
They descended another flight of narrow back stairs and came out into the kitchen. Both Rick and Marie were startled to find a beautiful, raven-haired, black-eyed girl sitting cross-legged on a kitchen stool eating a piece of cake.
"Hi," the girl said brightly, more to Rick than to Marie.
"Miss Jenny," Marie gasped. "I thought you were in the study."
Jenny grinned like a mischievous child. "I thought you might have some cake out here." She lifted a piece on her fork. "And I was right." Her eyes stayed on Rick as her mouth opened just a little and the piece of cake slipped inside.
Rick knew at once who she was: the sole heir to the entire Witherdine fortune, Jenny Roman, the old lady's grandniece. One of the most beautiful girls on the Massachusetts coast.
Rick had never set eyes on her before, but now he would never forget her. She was nineteen, slim, with a fine pair of breasts and a bare, tight stomach dotted with a firm little belly button. He managed to say, "Hi," and give a sort of wave as Marie ushered him swiftly toward the back door.
He thought that her eyes, framed by the jet-black hair, were the brightest pair of captives he had ever seen.
The door closed behind him.
Forever.
He might get back in whenever the old lady wanted him. He was hardly aware of the envelope Marie had slipped into his hand as they had started dawn the stairs. He was welcome back at the mansion whenever Mrs. Witherdine's libido was acting up, but to want to meet the heiress, the gorgeous hunk of girlhood that he had seen in the kitchen, was never-never, forbidden, do not touch, reserved for some guy out now properly sailing in some regatta.
Rick walked back toward the resort along the road. Cool breezes came from the bay making the green reeds along the shoulders nod and wave. They swayed like lovers unable to touch.