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As Beccy lay there, recovering from her first real orgasm, a moment’s epiphany dawned. For the first time in my life I had assumed a dominant role – and I had enjoyed it.
Beccy looked at me.
“Gosh Lady P, WHAT was THAT!”
“That, my darling girl was an orgasm.”
“I am still all tingly.”
She looked shyly at me. But, as a submissive myself (usually) I picked up the signal.
“In that case my girl, turn over for me.”
In one elegant movement Beccy turned. She really did have the most breath-taking figure. I straddled her.
“Ooh Lady P, I can feel your wetness on me.”
“You’ll do more than that soon, darling!”
It seemed I had a willing pupil.
Moving her hair, I kissed her neck, gently licking, and continued all the way down her spine. She moaned, ever louder the closer I came to her pert bum, and when I licked the delicious hollow at the base of her spine, she gasped and said:
“Can I rub my fou – I mean pussy, Miss?”
“Is my girl all wet again?”
“Yes Miss, I am such a wet girl.”
On impulse and instinct, I spanked her firm, taut bottom, twice, three times. She gasped, pushing up as though she wanted more. So I obliged. As I spanked her, she rubbed all the more.
“Are you a dirty little girl rubbing your fou-fou like a slut?”
“Yes, Miss, so dirty, spank me, I need to be punished for being a bad girl.”
And even as she got the words out, her voice rose higher as she was powerless against a second orgasm which overwhelmed her.
“Oh, oh, oh, Miss, Miss!”
It felt so good. I always loved to please my lover, but this was not at all my usual style, any more than I usually went for younger women from my own class. But what mattered to me was that it felt good.
Once she had finished groaning, Beccy turned over.
“Oh Lady P, is that what my husband-to-be will do?’
“If you are lucky darling, though somehow I doubt it.”
“Could I persuade him do you think?”
She looked coyly at me – well as coy as you could look, stark naked with your face flushed by two consecutive orgasms.
“Beccy, I suspect you might well be able to persuade the dear boy into your way of thinking. Men, I am told, do like to think they are in control.”
She blushed even deeper.
“Oh that’s good Lady P, and I think I rather like being bossed about – in the bedroom anyway. Now, at the risk of getting another spanking, can I please taste your pussy?”
Well, what was a girl to do?
I had already thrown my own nightgown to the side and was as naked as she was.
“Of course, darling.”
“But I have never done it before, will you help me?”
She suddenly looked what she was, a shy nineteen-year-old with a strong libido unused to being allowed an outlet.
“Thank you,” she smiled, “you are being so good to me.”
“Well,” I replied, “time for you to return the favour and be a good girl for me.”
Her response surprised me:
“Yes, Mama, can your Beccy lick your pussy?”
“You want to be my step-daughter?”
“Yes Mama, let me please you, teach me how!”
Opening my thighs, knees up, I showed her where I liked to be licked, as my hood was already back, she could see my little clit clearly.
“So if I lick and suck you here Mama?”
She promptly did so. My reaction seemed to please her.
“And Mama, what about your inner fou, I mean pussy here?”
As her fingers slipped inside my inner labia, I gave a loud moan.
“And if I press up here?”
“Fuck!” I exclaimed as she slipped two fingers in.
“Just be careful darling, Mama is quite tight there!”
She looked up.
“Yes Mama, I will be a good girl for you.”
She was gentler with her fingers, thereafter, concentrating as though she knew by instinct, on orally pleasing me. Her tongue, at first hesitant, grew more confident, and imitating what I had done to her was the right instinct. I relaxed into the pleasure, gripping her head, and gently pushing her face into my pussy.
She was eager, there was no doubt, but I slowed her down. I was not a randy nineteen-year-old and lacked the libido which needed to orgasm quickly and frequently. I wanted to, and did, savour her.
But eventually, I felt my abdomen tighten, and the tension rise and, giving in, came on to her pretty face, just letting the sensations shoot to my core.
As my spasm subsided, I raised her head and looked at her. Her face was all wet with me. She looked almost anxious.
“You did well my girl!”
“Oh Mama, did I, did I really?”
I smiled at her pleasure and pulled her up to hug her.
As I pulled her to my small bosom, I felt her tongue and lips finding my nipple, so I let her suck. She seemed to need it, and it made me feel good.
We lay there for a long while, just enjoying the moment.
“Mama Pixie,” she said, eventually, “will you be happy to help come out this season? My own Mama is a bit of a stiff old stick, and it would be fun if you came too.”
I had met Beccy’s bahis şirketleri mother, Lady Ethel, and could see just what she meant. I loathed the whole idea of “The Season.” I had been lucky enough to find Archie in my first season, and having no offspring, had been spared the experience ever since. But for Beccy, I thought, as I told her, I could.
“Thank you, Mama. I shall call you Auntie Pixie in public then!”
And so it was settled.
Lady Ethel and Lord Robert came round for lunch on the Tuesday before the start of the Season on Friday and both seemed delighted that I was willing to help out. Ethel really was a stiff, rather reserved woman, whilst Robert was a lecherous old goat who kept flirting with me, much to his wife’s displeasure and Archie’s amusement. But it was all settled, the Honourable Rebecca would come out from Eaton Square.
That rather settled the next few weeks, which were a round of dinner parties and balls. I had read somewhere about how ruthless men could be in sporting competitions, but they, surely, had nothing on mothers trying to get the best match for their daughters!
Every ounce of social status was milked, Who was going to Bend ‘Or’s ball. The Duke of Westminster was the richest and grandest Duke in the Empire, and everyone wanted in. Fortunately, Archie’s father, as another Duke, had the entrée, and so Beccy was able to compete in the highest stakes market. At the Duke’s, the most eligible bachelors in England and Scotland were present. Perhaps there were some Welsh bachelors, but none were eligible enough.
The other major plus I had was my old friend and one-time lover, Lady Dora Carrington. Rory, Lord Carrington, was quite the ladies’ man, but had managed to father a son with her, and young Jack, the future Baron Carrington was, although only the heir to a barony, a wealthy young man with a bright future. He was also stunningly good-looking. So, of course, I used our old friendship to persuade Lady Dora to come and lunch with me a week before the Westminster Ball.
“Oh Pixie, it’s such a delight to see you again!”
“You too Dora, and I have such fond memories.”
“Me too,” she blushed, “it’s just, well you know, after I got pregnant.”
I smiled and reassured her.
“Actually it was about Jack I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh Pix I do worry about him. He is so sought after, and he’s a nice boy, but he’s never going to settle for one girl, he’s like his Papa. I don’t want to break some poor young thing’s heart. But on the other hand, well, he is quite a catch, and I doubt that he’ll be single after the Season.”
“Have you and Rory a favourite candidate?”
“Not really. The Westmoreland girl is something of a bore, and with one or two exceptions, I am not sure I have seen anyone who’d suit him.”
“What about Beccy Stewart?”
“Bob and Ethel’s girl?”
“The very one.”
“She has a fine seat on a horse and rides to hounds well, and I know Jack took something of a shine to her. But isn’t she a bit young for him? Why do you ask?”
I explained that Beccy was “coming out” from our house,
“How would she cope do you think?”
“With Jack being like his papa?”
“Yes, that’s my worry. Of course one should simply say ‘buyer beware’, but, well you know how I felt in the early days darling.”
Which was the origin of her anxiety for Beccy, or any future daughter-in-law. Dora had been miserable when she had discovered Rory’s rampant adultery, and that had been in part, why she had slept with me. She had eventually decided not to let it make her life miserable, and had affairs of her own; but it was characteristic of her to worry about a future daughter-in-law. Most Mama’s simply wanted a marriage and after that, tough. The best advice to new brides came from Lady Melbourne: “You owe your husband an heir, and after that, please yourself discreetly.” Well, she should have known.
I suggested to Dora that they should come down to Sussex for the week-end – there was a hunt on Saturday, and perhaps young Jack and Beccy might find that an opportunity to explore how they felt.
Beccy was delighted when I told her.
“Oh he’s dishy. I know he fancies me, but would he marry me?”
“You need to know something.”
“What?” She said, anxiously.
“He’s like his papa, so he won’t be faithful.”
“Oh is that all? I thought he had two left feet or something. Aren’t all chaps like that?”
I looked at her.
“You’re a remarkable young woman, Beccy.”
“Oh thank you Mama. I have my own Pa, who, let’s face it, is only happy to have me here because he knows your husband won’t attempt to seduce me, and my own Ma who, well that can I say except that I have sympathy with Pa, as Mama has all the warmth of one of those refrigerator things! O golly, that’s a bit harsh of me!”
Her rather infectious giggle suggested that she expected forgiveness for her words.
“Do you think Jack might, erm, pop the question then?”
“I’ve asked his Mama to let him have a chat with me at the week-end darling, but I think there’s bahis firmaları a real chance.”
“Golly! Well Ma and Pa will be delighted, and to be frank, I’ll be glad to be spared the meat market. But there is only one thing, Mama Pixie.”
As though I was not well aware of what it was she was alluding to, I played the innocent (all right, rather poorly as I am not).
“And what, my darling, might that be?”
“Well, I still don’t, um, know about, um, the wedding night stuff. What will he expect? You will tell him I am a virgin, won’t you? What we did doesn’t count does it? It’s not like I didn’t lose my hymen out riding years ago. Do men like virgins Mama?”
She was a delightful “rattle”, and if talking had been an Olympic sport, she’d have been in the running for gold. But I noticed she used her talent carefully. If you watched and listened, you could see that underneath the prattle, she was asking the sort of questions which were needful but hard to ask.
“They say they do, my darling, but given their propensity for tarts, and married women, I suspect they rather prefer a girl who knows what she’s about. The thing is not to look as though you are not happy with what he does.”
“But Mama, what if I am?”
“Then teach him how to do better.”
“But Mama, that’s the thing. I don’t know how to do better. Do we have time before bed for you to show me?”
I could not help smiling, as finally, she got to the point.
“Of course. So, my darling, I think we shall have that dress and petticoats off – down to your undies my love.”
“Oh yes, Mama, of course!”
She looked an utter delight in her knickers, corset and garter-belt. Slender and graceful; who would not want her?
“Let Mama help,” I said, going behind her and unfastening her corset, which left her in just her knickers and stockings.
I went back round to face her. Her nipples were hard already, so I let my fingers brush across them; she moaned. She was clearly already worked up. I envied her libido. It was plain that young Beccy was both a major flirt and had the potential to be a great lover, if she could but find herself. That, I decided, was my job – and a pleasurable one it was too.
“You have such delicious breasts darling.”
Looking down she smiled dreamily.
“And you do such things to them Mama. Oh yes, yes, suck harder, I like that!”
So I did.
I was not used to roughness when love making. I did not care for it myself, and did not count spanking and being told what to do as “rough,” but it was clear that Beccy wanted something more than I ever did.
So, as I sucked her nipples harder, I gripped her bum with one hand and then yanked her knickers down. Looking briefly, I saw they were soaked.
“Mama, could you, could you spank me again, I feel such a naughty, dirty girl.”
“Across my knee, NOW!”
There was something delicious in having the taller woman across my knee, and I could tell she felt it too. She wiggled her bum as I tugged her knickers to her knees, and as my hand began to chastise her, she groaned and pressed herself against my knee.
“Oh, oh yes, harder, Mama!”
As my hand was already beginning to get sore, I reached out to the dressing table and picked up the wooden hairbrush, which both gave a satisfying THWACK on her beautiful derrière, and made her moan even more loudly. She began to writhe as her bum reddened. Then, on instinct, I turned the brush round and as she had said she had lost her hymen, pushed the handle into her wetness.
“Oh my gosh! Yes, oh fuck, yes, fuck me, fuck meeee!”
I twisted and turned the brush, and as I pushed in and out, she squelched beautifully, pushing herself back on the handle.
There was, I decided, nothing for it. I had the strap-on harness I had brought back from Berlin in my closet, and it was worth making her wait a moment or two whilst I got it.
“Oh Mama, please, please!”
“You are a dirty girl, Beccy. Now, waddle over to the corner, make sure your knickers don’t fall right down, and stand there with your hands on your head!”
Gingerly, she raised herself.
Her face was almost as read as her bum cheeks, and she moaned as she carefully waddled into the corner, keeping her knickers at half-mast.
“You look an utter delight!”
And so she did. That firm bum, turning a nice shade of pink, as she stood with her knickers down in just her stockings and suspenders.
That gave me time not only to take in the view, which was one to savour, but to get the harness and don it.
The question for me was could I do it? I had been fucked by experts, and loved submitting. That feeling of being both exposed and in a somewhat humiliating position, always sent shivers to my core. I decided I would use that experience with Beccy. I hesitated. Could I really do this? I was submissive, always had been. But somehow, looking at her, the urge to please her in the way I knew she needed overcame my hesitations.
“You may turn round my girl, but keep your hands on your head and your legs apart.”
Beccy kaçak bahis siteleri gasped.
“W, what’s that Mama?”
“That is a girl-cock darling, straight (if that is the word) from the bordellos of Berlin, and I am going to fuck you with it!”
I swear I saw her nipples harden. The glint in her eyes told me all I needed, and sent me into erotic overdrive.
“You may now step out of your knickers. Get on the bed, head down and arse up, legs spread!”
“Oh yes Mama!”
Bless her, not even the pretence that this was something her modesty needed to protest against. Jack Carrington, or whoever married her, really would be in for a treat, though they might need more stamina than was common.
She was a natural.
Seeing Beccy like that, her taut, pink arse cheeks open, I got behind her. I teased the entrance to her wetness with the head of the girl-cock, eventually easing the tip in. All the while she was rolling her hips and gasping before, eventually she could take it no more and just thrust herself back so hard that my mound ended up pounding her arse.
“Oh gosh, Pix, fuck me, fuck me so fucking hard. Can I rub myself; I need to!”
Oh my! That girl was a force of nature. I never met anyone with a more rampant libido. I had my work cut out as she thrust her delicious arse toward me. I gripped her hips and jerked forward as I had felt Annie and others do to me. Her cunt was so wet and open that she virtually fucked herself, such was the vigour of her thrusting.
The experience gave me new respect for men. I suppose they are equipped, physically, for the thrusting, but I found it a bit of a strain, albeit a most pleasurable one because of the response it produced from Beccy.
“Can I rub my clitty, Pix, please. pretty please, I neeeeed to!”
How could one resist? So I gave her permission, and gave her a fresh push, which, as she was now one-handed, almost pushed her to the mattress. Not that it mattered because she came at once, hard, and long with a huge cry of “Yesssssss!”
I stayed in her as the spasms overtook her. Her whole body seemed to shimmer as the orgasm overtook her; she shivered with the aftershocks for minutes, pushing herself against the girl-cock every now and then, whimpering softly.
“Oh gosh, Pix, that, oh my, is, is it?”
I pulled out slowly.
“Oh no, want!”
“On your back my love!”
I doubt I had ever seen a woman move so fast. As she lay there, pert breasts just slightly flopping to the side, her pubic hair a mess, I wanted to take her again, and I thrust in, her legs gripping me as we kissed.
“Oh yes, yes, Pix, take me again. Is this how it will be”
I smiled as I fucked her.
“With you, I suspect it just might be!” I said, as I began to pound her, our nipples touching, which sent electric erotic shocks through me. As our lips me, she opened hers to allow my tongue to explore her. It felt, she felt, so good.
“Oh yes!” She exclaimed, breaking our kiss, “this is what I need, oh Pix, Pix, fuck me harder!”
I was not sure I could have gone harder, but thrust deep and hard. I kissed her hard nipples, arching my back as I fucked her. She adjusted the angle so that the vibrations of my thrusts reached where she needed. I bit her nipples.
“Oh gosh, yes, yes, like that!”
So, I did. She came again. I felt her wetness against me as she squirted. She gripped me tight, our hot, sweaty bodies joined as she orgasmed.
As she began to recover, she looked at me.
“Oh Pix,” she giggled, “I think I squirted!”
“I think so too – Squirty Beccy!”
I never met anyone else who did, but then I never met a woman whose libido surpassed Beccy’s.
“But Mama Pix, what about you?”
“Don’t you need to cum too?”
Bless her, that was the other thing about her, she was one of the most thoughtful women I ever knew.
“That would be nice my darling.”
“How shall we?”
“Let me show you a ladies-only trick!”
“Oooh yes Mama!”
Extracting myself from her wetness, I asked how sensitive she was feeling “there.”
“Oh don’t worry about me, Pix, I think when I am like this I could go on all night!”
I rather thought she might be able to.
Undoing the harness, I slipped her sideways so my leg could slide between hers, and then manoeuvred into a position where my wet and aching pussy lips could press against her rough wetness. It sent shivers through me.
“Oh I am going to like this. Gosh Pix, you are almost as wet as me!”
I lifted my leg to allow her to press her fullness against mine. As our clits touched, I gasped – and to my amazement, so did she.
“What’s this called Pix?”
“Scissoring!” I gasped.
The energy she put into pressing her rough pubic area against my smoothness just turned me on even more, and I shifted to push so that our clits met again, which just encouraged her to rub even harder. She really was an enthusiast, and her energy lit my fires which burnt ever brighter.
“Oh Pix, you have such lovely little titties, can I kiss?”
I pushed myself forward until her lips were fastened into my left nipple. Her sucking drove my passion higher until, as she came, yet again, I joined her, feeling her wetness engulf me. She really was Squirty Beccy!
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