ARABELLA Read online

  Taking advantage then of my position, the Comte neatly drew his penis from my grasp and, taking hold of my hips and bending me further over my cousin, deftly inserted his knob at the portals of my lovepot. I wriggled. Two inches slipped within. Holding Elaine's chin I drove my tongue in her mouth. All three of us were now at her and the rising delirium of her pleasure was obvious from the excited stabbing of her tongue around mine.

  Sheathing himself fully, the Comte took full possession of me, bringing my bottom to mound into his belly while his balls hung beneath.

  “Elaine! He is f...f...fucking me,” I moaned. My legs straightened, my back dipped. I knew well how to present myself to such a lubricious assault. His cock tingled in my velvety depths, clamped as firmly as in a baby's mouth, as afterwards he was at flowery pains to tell me. He worked himself—I moved my hips in response. Roald, having been released from my hungry clasp, fell to having his cock sucked by Pearl who—bending forward for the task—then received my uncle's prick in her cunt.

  Thus were we arranged, in as lewd a tableau as might be imagined. Naught sounded but the soft hissing of our breaths and the combined smacking of our bodies. Spreading his legs and with his balls swinging gently, Roald made the fullest of offerings to the mouth of Pearl who was not loathe to take advantage of her double offering. I, who had thought to do the same thing, raised my mouth from Elaine's and watched the pair through bleary eyes while the Comte pumped me sturdily. His hands held my hips in a manful grip which I liked, occasionally descending to caress my thighs or titillate my clitoris.

  In the very midst of our transports, however, a new fancy took him. That he was so in command of his senses to effect it, I much admired. Withdrawing his steaming prong but briefly from my dell, he motioned the maids aside and set me astride Elaine in such fashion that my cunny came over her mouth, though an inch or two above it.

  My cousin stirred not, nor could. Gazing down into her hot eyes, I smiled, though my expression was not long held for the Comte then inserted his penis again so that Elaine was brought to suffer its contact with her mouth. Surging into me as it did, not much was then left of it for her to attend to, wherewith the Comte gruffly commanded her to lick his balls.

  Whether or not she did, I know not for I was then bent further forward until my hands came at the end of the divan. Truly I could feel movements beneath me, but by then our course was already almost run, as were those of the other combatants. I had come already several times and well splashed the Comte's balls with my offerings. Now, with a satisfied groan, he afforded me his due. Pressing the warm orb of my bottom back into him so that we seemed as if glued together, I received every long shooting of his sperm in the selfsame moment that Pearl was inundated front and back. Therewith I seemed to feel Elaine's tongue gently licking, but my sensations were too overwhelming for me to judge. The lips of my cunt oozed along the steaming tool of the Comte as he injected me thrice and fourfold until the bubblings of our liquid treasures merged and I turned my neck about to meet his mouth.

  The last quiverings seized us. I balled my bottom deeper and absorbed the finer spurts of his sperm which then as always I was greedy to receive. So enraptured we stayed with our warm, pulsing bodies close-pressed until the gradual weakening of his tool in my grotto announced the regretted finale. In withdrawing he spilled his pearls upon Elaine's chin, as I also doubtless did, though so heady was the scent of sperm and the finer feminine odours in the room that it mattered not.

  Being drawn off of my cousin, I took to the cushions on the floor and lay there as might any Eastern princess. For such I felt, well knowing that I was to receive two more libations at the very least. About us flitted the two maids. Wine glugged into glasses and was well received. Elaine lay as one who cannot help be perceived but who wishes not to be. Of a sudden she curled up and turned over upon her hip to the wall, so presenting an ardent bottom to view.

  I knew her well by then. She was “presenting,” as we say, though would have denied it. Being flaccid of organs, the men said little save by way of desultory conversation that was but lightly sprinkled with lewdness. We were not, after all, whores, but ladies with gentlemen. The two maids, having seemingly performed all their duties, went out and closed the door upon us—perhaps regretfully, as I thought, though in aftermath I realised that they were the fortunate participants at many such entertainments, as Pearl was always pleased to call them.

  Elaine, as I say, lay as if upon a soft platform, for we were all by then seated at our ease amid the cushions—or rather, lolling upon them. Most hopefully Pearl and I both kept our legs open. For what we were about to receive we would be duly thankful. The night had but begun.

  “Recount us your adventures, for you must have many in this very room,” invited Pearl of our host. So began our first session of “Parisian Nights,” for that was the name I gave to them and how I duly recorded them in my diaries and notebooks. In vividness of narrative, the Comte was never failing, for this was one of several evenings we were to pass there during our sojourn in Paris. He spoke of virgins and cocottes, of mature ladies and of younger ones. The pleasures of the birch came readily to his lips for he avowed that a sweeping of green twigs across a recalcitrant bottom was the finest method by which to prepare a maiden for the cock's entry.

  Much was the badinage that occurred of course during his discourse, and not few the questions on my part, he delighting occasionally in what he deemed my naivety, though much complimenting me on the sweet way that I interjected.

  The birch, I suggested, was a fearful instrument. This I announced for the ears of Elaine who lay still and was mainly disregarded by us, though her round bottom and the partly-offered fig. of her slit looked most toothsome, being well seen from our lower vantage point.

  “Ah, but the English have not the art of it,” the Comte replied, “they think to birch their girls into submission whereas we perform the finer arts of inducing their bottoms to rise to the occasion by the more gentle but insistent sweeping of the twigs which naturally must be well softened for their task. Thus is heat slowly induced, causing the hips to wriggle not so much evasively but in full concord with the tingling which is induced.”

  “Is that not also done to males and would it not have similar effect then?” I made bold to ask.

  “Why indeed that is so with some men, though I would say few. It depends, I believe, on the subtle conformation of the nerves beneath the skin. In rampant youth the effect is more marked and many a boy's pego has been made to stiffen agreeably when under the maternal hand. Thus does he learn to grope while being spanked and is perhaps smacked the harder thereby. However, this little game continuing and the promise of his stiffened penis being felt upon the maternal thighs, the spanking eventually becomes other than a disciplining and resolves to more licentious acts, as also occurs with young ladies whose drawers are down.”

  Seeing the twinkle in his eye, I laughed, for he would have me confess—I knew—that I had both suffered and enjoyed such, but I was loathe to make up stories of that nature for Papa had never put his hand to my bottom nor indeed any other part of my person.

  These discourses having lasted some forty minutes or more, the arousal of the males again became evident. In some part this was secured by Pearl and I asking ever more licentious questions which caused the Comte to expand upon every detail of events that had occurred in the mirrored room.

  “Would you then force a young maiden to take the cock?” I asked, fingering his own rising tool as I spoke.

  “If I know she will be the better for it, yes. There are many signs to be followed in such circumstances, for their eyes are to be watched more than their lips should be listened to. A young girl say of fifteen or sixteen is often more easily brought to it, however, than a spinster whose longing for the manly prick has become too well submerged in false shyness.”

  I raised my eyebrows and asked whether a spinster might be sufficiently attractive to warrant such attentions.

  “A few. They
are rare and yet as jewels, for if well-formed of figure their bodies are exceedingly ripe for it. The ladies take as much pleasure in converting them as do the males. I might instance, for example, the daughter of a cure—a vicar, as I believe you say. She was in her thirtieth year and deemed by many to be as warm-bottomed in bed as any, though that exceedingly attractive part of her anatomy had until then encountered naught but her own hand. Being brought here, she was duly courted and flattered, much to her surprise, I might say. The wine then took effect on her—unfairly perhaps, though she was put to her trials more fully the next day when out of her cups. Even so, it took much to encourage her to raise her dress so that, as was said, her legs might be admired. At first she would display only her knees, but then by persuasion conceded to mid-thigh. Her legs were superbly fashioned—even as are your own,” the Comte said gallantly. “Several other ladies then showed their garters and invited comparison with hers. I fear I bore you with such a recital, but being slowly enacted and with much deliberation, all proved most exciting. Her drawers and a finely-curved belly were seen at last. Assistance was then given, if I might so put it, to holding up her dress, while she continued to tipple. At what was deemed the right moment, her drawers were then descended. Being a trifle inebriated—which I regretted, for a woman must know what she is about—she was then laid back upon the table and fucked by several of the gentlemen. Each she received dumbly, as if it were a great surprise—which I am sure it was. I then saw her put to bed, my maids acting as chaperones.”

  I guessed in what wise the two delightful girls had “chaperoned”— no doubt having kept the tempted lady busy thereafter.

  “You spoke of the morrow,” I said. His penis was now fine and glowing. I bent and gently sucked the knob for a moment.

  “A lust had come over me for her—I scarce know why, save that she had one of the finest figures I have ever seen, firm and round in all its aspects. Having been bathed and breakfasted in her room, I had her brought to me. She was dressed but without drawers, for they had been confiscated. In my nightshirt, I lay upon the bed and spoke to her gently, holding her wrist the while. I spoke to her of pleasures. She listened for a moment, but then would have tugged away. I grasped her more firmly. I know well how a woman who has been in lust succumbs to the lure of erotic words that are not too crudely spoken. I apprised her of what I intended—that my prick was to enter her bottom. She cried out at that, but knew in her heart that I would have her, or so I do believe. The maids entered and the birch was brought. I had little doubt that her Papa had oftimes basted her bottom, if only to see her knickers.

  “So it proved, for though her struggles were at first gallant, she yielded finally. Held by the two maids as she was, I brought her bottom to a fine glow, having cast up her dress. Her squeals and cries were at first loud, but she finally settled, as I knew she would. I twitched the twigs more gently, noting every movement of her hips and every tightening of her bottom cheeks. She should have been finished off long before this and perhaps knew it. Her bottom yearned for the final assault that I afforded it. Parting the richly-fleshed cheeks, I inserted my knob in her orifice, telling then the maids to release her. She beat then at the counterpane and moaned, but made no attempt to delay my entry which was slow and deep. Within the passing of a minute she was fully cleft. Her bottom worked to me—she sought the forward movements of my prick. I said naught, but continued working her, causing her buttocks to urge back and forth against me. Her effusions wettened the bed long before I came. The sleek interior of her rosehole sucked my sperm in. All was well and all was done. Twice more I had her that day before she departed, laden with gifts and more glowing of visage than she had been for years.”

  “This then you called bringing her to her trials?” I asked, moving my hand gently up and down his shaft as Pearl was doing to my uncle and Roald, for they had listened as entranced as I.

  “Why, mon chou, I believe it to be a useful phrase and in many respects a correct one,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

  My gaze wandered across to Elaine who seemed to have huddled up ever more tightly.

  “There is one here who has not yet been put to her trials,” I said. “Or, at least, not in that respect,” I added with a smile.

  CHAPTER nine

  Poor Elaine—she was the subject of my mischief that night, but it could not be helped. Her benefits, however, were considerable and so mollified the wrath she might other wise have poured upon me.

  We have argued about it since. “You were sulking,” I have said. “Oh, you story, I was resting,” would come her reply, though said with a smile she could not conceal.

  Had we been in less civilised company, our host might have demanded or at least enquired why my cousin was not party to our merriment. Being of great experience, he knew her predicament to be one of seeming shyness which, like an egg, but waits to be cracked open. It was for me to spring the hare, so to speak, and this I duly did since all were again ready for the fray. All eyes then being fixed upon the reclining beauty, I rose and tiptoed across to her, quite certain that she had absorbed every word and was as ready for her dosages as I. Placing my hand under her bottom, which she had left uncovered, I whispered to her that she must now take her choice of the men's pricks.

  “I want to go home!” she whined, this being heard by Pearl who hastened across.

  “What nonsense is this?” she demanded merrily. Then, giving me a wink, she reached beneath the divan and drew out a small birch, the bound handle of which was prettily decorated with a blue silk ribbon. “This young lady must be warmed for the feast, and who else to give her bottom pleasure but her Papa? Come, Harold—to your duty.”

  “No!” shrieked Elaine, becoming thereupon quite lively, though at the sight of her father rising and advancing with his cock waggling eagerly, she sat up and hid her face. “Oh, Papa, you would not!” she implored, by which time however he had reached one arm beneath her knees and the other under her armpits, so lifting her that Elaine uttered a wild cry and appeared to faint. That she did so was partly to her undoing for she was carried easily enough to a convenient table, at the sight of which she abandoned pretence of swooning and sobbed and kicked to such effect that my uncle, all but persuaded by her, would have put her down had it not been for Pearl.

  “None of this, now—put her over!” she cried whereupon the Comte proved his worth yet again by demonstrating that the table was designed for such recalcitrants. Positioning himself to the side of the table as Elaine was lowered from her father's arms, he took one of her wrists and so drew on her arm that she was bent over the further edge, screeching the while that a strap—fitted to the underside—was snapped about her wrist, Roald, acting as his accomplice—saw to the other so that my cousin was as well secured as could be with her toes just touching the floor and her bottom perfectly poised for action.

  “No, Papa, no!” Elaine squealed unendingly until Pearl— securing my cousin's gown well up above her hips—afforded her such a resounding smack on her pert nether cheeks as made her howl with outrage and then sob more quietly. Flushed with pleasure, anticipation—and doubtless many other emotions—my uncle then took the little birch from Pearl's hand while we, easing away from the table became enraptured spectators of what was to follow. Save, that is, for a piece of advice that the Comte thought fit to offer.

  “Monsieur, if I may so suggest, a dozen firm strokes would be most fitting upon this occasion—the first to be applied from the right—sweeping right across her bottom, the second to be given from the left, and the third coursing a little more lightly up under her bulge. Spare her not, for she will best be brought on to your cock in this way.”

  “And time it is for her indeed to be,” murmured Pearl who then began massaging his cock while I attended to Roald's, the pair of them holding us about our waists while we leaned against them and Elaine's sobs and cries of despair echoed all about.

  “Oh, Papa, you shame me, you shame me!”

  “Take no notice, H
arold—the little minx's quim will pout even more appealingly once you have warmed her bottom,” chuckled Pearl. “Let us take to the divans, Arabella, for if we kneel upon them on either side of the table we can then receive our partners' cocks from the rear at the very moment that your uncle presents himself to her.”

  “Oh-ho-ho—NO!” sobbed Elaine who looked perfectly adorable, I thought, for her enforced posture showed well the curving lines of her stockinged legs, the pale orb of her bottom, and the coy peeping of her slit beneath.

  The marvel was that my uncle did not breach his daughter's offering then and there, for his knob was but twelve inches from it and Elaine's cunny was most succulently poised to receive it. What her real state of mind then was, I would love to have known, for her outward protests counted as nothing to me.

  Having taken up postillion at our rears upon the two divans, as Pearl suggested, and all being comfortably if teasingly placed, the feting of Elaine's bottom began the while that the crest of Roald's tool waited menacingly poised towards the cheeks of my derriere.

  Tentative in the raising of the birch as my uncle appeared to be, yet the determined first swish that he rained across Elaine's out-thrust orb seemed to presage all the earlier frustrations he had doubtless felt.

  “Yooooh!” my cousin screeched. Her hips waggled wildly, her feet teetering this way and that as the spraying twigs sparkled their points of fire into her globe. I was yet to know—though much later—the sensation myself. It burn, it stings., it taunts, causing the bottom to rotate and so offer itself ever more invitingly to the male prong. Should it belay the bottom too hard, then the very purpose is lost, for one cannot sustain too deep a stinging and pleasure at the same time. Of this I thought little at the time, for the pink streaks that began to appear in contrasting hue upon the pale bulb of Elaine's bottom were exciting in the extreme. Twice, thrice, and four times did she howl to the searing strokes, the third of which— coming up beneath her bottom in accordance with the Comte's instructions—caused her to reach beguilingly up on her toes.