ARABELLA (22 page)

I did not hint at as much, of course, for it would have been indiscreet to do so, but a turn of events was to uncover more that I might otherwise have learned, and in a most unusual way.

One fine morning, having ridden across to the house early, I encountered Emily, the older of the daughters whose age matched Selina's. Lolling in the garden with her was her brother, George, who was two years her senior.

“How thoroughly bored we feel today, Arabella, would you care to join us on a picnic?” Emily asked. Being fond of such occasions, I agreed on the instant, whereat she had much fun in loaning me a lighter dress than I had worn for my journey. “What a beautiful body you have,” she observed while I—clad in but a chemise, stockings and drawers—made ready in her room. Being not unaware of a certain warm look in her eyes as she said this, I made such small, subtle movements of my body as frequently give unspoken assent to those of amourous whims. In a moment we were locked in a loving embrace, our lips meshing, tongues entwining, and our hands fervently appraising each other's curves.

Dipping one hand down within the low neckline of my chemise, Emily fondled the proud snowy orbs of my breasts while I, raising the skirt of her dress inch by inch, caressed her thighs and all about and under her drawers. Not a word was spoken for a long moment and indeed none needed to be for we were too busy at our mutual if unexpected salutations. There is an especial flavour about the unexpected, however, and this lent salt to the occasion, for I had not suspected Emily of such inclinations before.

The more our fingers sought, of course, the more they needed to and in a trice we were upon the bed with my drawers to my ankles as were hers.

“We dare not dally long, Arabella, but what fun to tease one another before we go, for I would dearly love George to be able to mount you today,” said she to my uttermost astonishment while her hand caressed my cunt as mine did hers.—

“Your brother? Oh, how bold you are!” I laughed, “and would you be party to this dalliance, then?”

“Why no, for that would be incestuous, would it not,” replied she quaintly, though confessing with flushed features while our salivas mingled that she would love to watch such a thing, which she said she had rarely done. At that I reminded her that “rarely” meant “sometimes,” to which she replied artfully that she had but used the term as a figure of speech. By this time, of course, our bottoms and hips were squirming merrily as we each sought to extol each other's juices which, with a fine gasping and a maddening of kisses, we soon enough did.

“Has your brother not done even this to you, then?” I asked, to which she replied that he had not, though had several times attempted to raise her skirts. Alas that I cannot write an essay on the Emilys of this world, for it rapidly became clear to me that her inclinations were to others of her own sex rather than males, but that she delighted in seeing a desirable maiden well rodded and then to enjoy her afterwards.

After the merry adventures I had already known, this intelligence did not surprise me as much as it might have otherwise done, though I was eager to know whether she had been fucked at all.

“Perhaps and perhaps not,” she replied, with a strange admixture of both the prurient and the lewd in her tone which gave me to realise even more the complexity of her nature. “We must be careful, though,” she went on, “for I believe that Papa intends to join our party and to bring Selina.”

“Oh well, in that case it will not be possible, and besides I am not at all sure that I want George to mount me,” I said with a great air of fussiness. She appeared to have read rather more of my character than I had suspected and for once I was caught off balance, as it were. Being agile of mind and wondering much about such a curious arrangement, I allowed myself to adopt the air of one who was both uncertain and a trifle naive.

“We shall manage, I am sure, for Papa will not stay overlong in our presence. He has a great fancy for Selina, you know,” Emily said pertly and with all the apparent wisdom of the world. I will not, however, bore my readers with a further account of our conversation and will hasten forward an hour by which time the five of us found ourselves well accommodated in a secluded glade some five miles from the house. There we feasted and drank well and, being surfeited, lay back upon the sward and conversed idly of all manner of common things until I began to believe that Emily's ideas resided only in the realm of fantasy.

Upon that very thought entering my mind, however, Lord C. rose, yawned and looked all about him and then invited Selina to go for a “stroll through the wood,” as he casually put it. She not demurring, the two set off, George being between his sister and I. Out of politeness, I had sat up at the departure of the two, but then sank back again whereat George leant over me and, placing his hands lightly upon my shoulders, kissed my lips.

“Oh, what are you at?” I murmured, adopting a role of mild timidity and surprise such as I suspected I was meant to.

At that, Emily cuddled into her brother from his rear and, clasping her hand to the front of his trousers, passed her fingers all about his penis beneath. With some inevitability it then began to stiffen so much that I could not help but glimpse its protruberance. Meanwhile George's kisses became so increasingly amourous that I allowed his tongue to enter my mouth and responded with my own.

“What a naughty pair you are. Why, she is playing with your prick,” I murmured, for Emily's fingers were now even busier about the stanchion of flesh which his trousers still covered.

“She will do no other, for she ever teases me thus,” replied he, delving his hand then up beneath my skirt so that in a moment my cunny was being toyed with in turn through my drawers.

Finding his kisses quite to my taste, while Emily lay mainly hidden behind him, I replied, “Then you should take her drawers down and let her feel the length of it. Why do you not? Oh, you are tickling me so, I know not what to do. Pray, do not take my drawers down or your Papa might return.”

“That he will not, for he will be too busy with Selina,” came Emily's laugh, and at that she tumbled right over both of us, half squashing me in the process so that I then found myself lying between them. “Be a good girl, Arabella, for George has a fine pego. I have known him come twice in a girl without even taking it out,” she declared. Then, taking my face in her hands, she began to lavish kisses upon my half open lips while George deftly attended to raising my skirt to my hips and slipping the ties of my drawers. At that such a languid sense of desire overcame me, that I let myself be uncovered until my drawers lay at my side and George's not inconsiderable penis reared its rubicond head, he kneeling between my splayed thighs. Caressing them and soothing the moist lips of my lovenest he appeared in no great hurry, for he evidently enjoyed the spectacle of two young women kissing and caressing each other's breasts as we were.

“Let him do it to you,” I whispered sensuously to Emily whose tongue made bold reply in my mouth before she spoke.

“Why no, that would be most improper, Arabella, for though I like to touch it sometimes—though only through his trousers—I could not permit otherwise, but I adore to see him working it in a girl's quim and bringing it to froth.”

As many conversations as I had had with Pearl and others before, none was so strange as this, though I confess to enjoying every second of it. “Exhibit yourself to him at least. Push your drawers down while he is doing it to me,” I murmured and made to pull at her skirt as I spoke, though in a poor position to do so.

“Really, Arabella, what a naughty thing to suggest, to let my own brother see my naked bottom! Oh come, George dear, do not dally, for I am sure she is longing for it. Lift her legs up so that I can see!”

“Oh!” I ejaculated in apparent astonishment, for so bizarre was the situation that it mattered not what I said, and George in any event had already lowered himself—in apparent due obedience to his sister—upon my belly and inserted the crest of his charger between my cuntlips. The sensation, being as ever quite delicious—for he made the most slow and sensuous of entries—I raised my legs of my own accord and knotted my calves about his waist as the succulent rod of flesh buried its throbbing length full within my grotto and his balls couched themselves beneath my bottom.

Such an erotic pleasure
al fresco
is one never to be denied oneself should the opportunity arrive. The grass was soft, the earth warm, and the birds sang above. A glorious sense of freedom overcame me as he began to piston himself back and forth, thrilling me inwardly to the very core of my being.

Emily, of course, had slid down, the better to play spectator to the lewd and exciting view of our conjoined parts. It was a pleasure I knew well, for a sturdy, full-veined shaft urging back and forth twixt distended but tightly-clenching lovelips is at all times an enervating sight and one that never fails to stir. Even so, I did not intend to let her peer throughout the entire performance, so to speak. Reaching for her hair even as George and I panted and writhed on the first lap of our course, I drew her up in such wise that she was made to shriek at the suddenness of my gesture. Drawing her face alongside my own, I ringed her neck with my left arm and breathlessly commanded George to lavish as many kisses upon her mouth as he had been doing on mine.

“Oh no!” giggled Emily foolishly, but such were the electric thrills passing through him and I, that he would brook no refusal and delighted in passing his tongue into her mouth as I could see by the workings of their lips.

To attempt to describe such passionate moments by mechanical rote, as it were, is to destroy the very spirit of them. I began to come and jerked my hips more vigorously, being as I then felt more the mistress of the pair than their victim.

“Feel her cunny—push your hand up her skirt,” I blathered. At that, Emily shrieked again, but since my hold around her neck was tight she could do no other than let him, at which George's passion doubled—if such were possible. Moaning and twisting beside us, his sister endeavoured in vain to avoid the very caresses which I could not see directly but could measure in their boldness by the movements of his hand beneath her skirt.

“Aaaaah!” Emily gurgled, for he had evidently found her spot and was rubbing it through the linen of her drawers. Her thigh—now all but uncovered—moved against my own. Our stockings rubbed. The moment was one of true delight, for where she had wished to see me struggling, the tables were turned, and thresh as might her legs she was unable to prevent herself surrendering to the opportunity of the moment. That there was no artifice in her attempted defence I could somehow tell, for she was most visibly between resistance and surrender. Turning her face, I brought then her mouth to my own and found it sweetly moist and open. This additional titillation proved however too much for George who, alas, spouted all his hopes then and there and in such abundance that I doubted not what Emily had said.

“He is c...c...coming in me! Oh, Emily, what a lot he comes!” I blathered against her lips which caused her to hug the more tightly to me while George expelled his powerful jets so that I was indeed all of a froth, the lovely easing back and forth of his cock causing it to spout with every stroke. Then with such a sigh and a groan as men usually expend in such moments of fruition, he fell more heavily upon me and lavished kisses upon us both.

All three of us might then have savoured a lingering aftermath for George's searching fingers had clearly found their way in some wise into Emily's drawers, as the moisture upon them clearly evinced. Scarce had we settled, however, with his cock pulsing prettily in my well creamed nest, than a crackling of twigs sounded to our rear.

Ah, what confusion followed! George uncorked himself and was first to his feet. Emily, making to rise in turn, caught the heel of her shoe in a tuft of grass and fell again, showing her garters. I—more practised in such events— was up in a flash, though not so quickly that all three of us were not come upon too soon by Lord C. and Selina.

What I expected either to say or do, I know not, for George had not time to conceal his weapon which— although it had temporarily exhausted its immediate resources—was still of impressive aspect. Selina neither blushed nor cried out, however, but regarded his efforts to conceal it with some amusement.

“It is what you suspected of your offspring, Papa, is it not?” she asked in such a languid tone that I was amused rather than otherwise by her coolness. Emily, blushing to the roots of her hair, was then up and pushing down her skirt while throwing upon Selina the most revengeful of glances, though daring not to respond in the presence of her father who first addressed George.

“You, sir, will betake yourself elsewhere! I do not doubt that Emily has again led you astray, though I find this no excuse for the disgraceful scene which meets our eyes. Should you return ere nightfall I shall take it much amiss. Off with you, sir!”

Few young men there are who could defy such a father's wishes, and George was clearly not among them. Buttoning up his trousers he was off at a loping pace towards his horse while I, taking care to preserve my demeanour, soothed my hair all about and returned to Selina a look as cool as any she bestowed upon me.

“Papa, we were only romping—it was but a playful thing,” Emily declared in tones that would have convinced no one.

Such a feeble interjection was completely ignored. “Guide them back to the house, Selina,” Lord C. announced grandly and then betook himself to his own waiting steed which stood tethered to a tree. As to ourselves, there was no hurry about the matter—Selina declared—for Lord C. would have his son gone before he dealt with us.