Dewy Kittow grew up with the practical realities of sex. In his early years, he learned the basics from watching the animals on his father's farm. As a young man, he learned human skills from willing girls in the nearby village. He thought he'd learned everything, but he was wrong. Nothing could have prepared him for the first time he had sex with Virginia Windlesham.
A crow moon bathed the Long Livery Estate with a wash of eerily pale illumination. The evening air was still and cold, the woodland silent except for the occasional owl's hoot and the rustling of nocturnal animals through the undergrowth. During the previous week, the cawing of crows had signalled the end of winter, but mellow nights were still many weeks away. Throughout Cornwall, country folk waited patiently for spring to meld into summer.
Inside the Long Livery gamekeeper's cottage, the small sitting room was pleasantly warm and scented with the earthy odour of lovemaking. A wood fire crackled merrily in the grate. Flickering flames cast wandering shadows around the rough cob walls. It also bathed in its orange glow two young, naked bodies stretched out before the fire on a sheepskin.
Keeper Dewy Kittow felt trickles of sweat run across his skin. He felt distinctly uneasy, as if he was out of his class. This wasn't the way he liked to engage in sexual union. In his previous experience, sex had always been undefiled by worry. He was good at it; he knew it because the rural girls told him so. He gave them great pleasure while his cock was moving rhythmically inside their vaginas, rasping against their clitorises. They approved of the way he always took them to a peak of excitement and then finished by ejaculating into their throats to avoid making them pregnant. Yes, he'd been good at it, but he'd also known only country girls, rural young women who had no pretensions towards class. Like him, they thought they knew all there was to know about sex and, like him, they fucked with animal passion. They were raw and earthy in their approach to sex, and so was he when he stripped off his clothes and mounted them.
But this was different.
He breathed heavily and more beads of sweat dribbled across his skin. His muscular torso was enclosed within Virginia Windlesham's legs: shapely legs she held neatly enfolded about his waist. The head of his rigid cock was pressed against her moist vaginal lips, seeking entry. He hesitated. Would she be ready for him if he pressed forward now? His sweat intensified, his breathing grated faster. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against her perfectly formed breasts and he moulded his lips to hers. When she moaned with pleasure, he pushed her lips apart with the tip of his tongue and savoured the sweetness of her mouth. Hoping she found that initial taste of his exploring tongue pleasing, he drew back and waited for her reaction. Would she like the way he was building up her sexual emotions?
Slightly built, with dark green eyes, she responded by kissing him firmly on the lips before taking hold of one of his fingers. It was wet and sticky with the sex juices he had drawn from inside her, but Virginia smiled as she slid it between her lips and licked it. Country girls did that, but he hadn't expected it from a young lady of breeding. Maybe she preferred the earthiness of the rustic classes. Taking it as a positive signal, Dewy pushed his cock-head halfway into her vagina. Again, he stopped to judge her reaction.
"Is that all right, Miss Windlesham?" He studied her face, hoping it would express total acquiescence, hoping she was fully lubricated and ready for him to go further.
She laughed--a low, mirthless laugh--and ripples ran lightly through her silky hair which was spread out on the sheepskin, a jet-black frame about her face. "It's a start, I suppose." She reached down between their naked bodies and used a finger and thumb to test the continuing firmness of his erection, the part of him still waiting to penetrate her.
A shiver of enhanced excitement ran right through Dewy. Had she been a lusty village girl he would have had no qualms about taking the lead in their sex games, no hesitation in thrusting his erection fully into her at a moment of his choosing. But Virginia was no common village girl. She was the only daughter of Brigadier-General Sir John Windlesham, the owner of Long Livery Hall and Dewy's employer. Their lovemaking was a dangerous game.
Virginia was, Dewy realised, the creme-de-la-creme of male sexual desire, a centrepiece in the most erotic dreams of any highborn man. She was so far above his status in life that he felt obliged to concede the lead to her in their sexual encounter, even though he was physically straddling her. He was, however, fully aroused and desperate to press his cock all the way home. What would she expect of him when the crucial moment arrived? A sudden thrust followed by a rhythmic pumping action? Or something more genteel, something befitting her highborn status in Cornish society? His confusion intensified. How was a mere gamekeeper expected to behave in the arms of a woman who held such an important place amongst the county's gentry? He cursed himself for his ignorance.
"What are you waiting for?"
Virginia's cold smile disarmed him further. She was such a rare beauty, so young and so vibrant. So why had she come to his cottage in her search for sex? She could surely have taken many a noble lover to her own comfortable bed up at Long Livery Hall. There were rumours that she frequently did just that. So why him? Why poor Dewy Kittow?
Perhaps she needed to feel a sense of superiority and dominance over her paramour, a dominance more easily achieved with a servant than with nobility. Or did she simply prefer the attentions of a rough, country lad?
"Wasn't sure if you were fully ready for me, Miss Windlesham." He thought he detected a hitch in his voice.
"Ginny. Call me Ginny when we're making love." Her smile turned into a fierce look of determination. "And for heaven's sake get on with it."
"Yes, Miss Ginny." He pushed his erection a little farther into her, slowly and carefully, afraid of hurting her. "Is that all right?"
"Of course it is. Don't be so soft, damn you. I'm not a piece of porcelain, you know. You don't have to handle me as if I'm fragile."
"Yes, Miss Ginny." He gently pressed further with his cock until he was fully inside her. After a brief pause, he pulled back a couple of inches before easing it forward again.
"Harder!" she snapped.
"Yes, Miss Ginny." He moved his cock back and forth, accelerating until he was closer to the speed and technique he would use with a girl of his own class. His passion intensified, but anxiety was still a hindrance to his full enjoyment. A week ago, when he was living at his father's farm, he had been at ease with the simple rural folk who were his neighbours. A week ago he knew how to behave with the girls he took to his bed. Today he was lost.
Virginia moaned softly. "That's better. You do know how to do this, don't you?"
"Yes, Miss Ginny." He had settled at a satisfying speed and tried to keep to a steady rhythm. It wasn't easy because he was certain she was mentally assessing his sexual prowess. That was off-putting.
"You don't seem to be enjoying this." Her voice sounded so well-controlled. "I suppose you're just not sure how to fuck a proper lady. That's it, isn't it? You're too used to doing it with common sluts."
"If you say so, Miss Ginny." His voice was hoarse, almost breathless. How the devil could Sir John's daughter find the effort to chat in such a manner when they were in the middle of illicit sex? Was his technique so bad this time? After all that previous success, was he now a failure?
"The trouble is, you're out of your depth, aren't you, Dewy? You're lying naked on top of me, desperately trying to fuck me properly, but you're not sure what to do next. That's because I'm socially so far above you."
She sounded almost totally composed, as if the sex were nothing at all to her. Nevertheless, she bucked her hips perfectly in time with his thrusting.
He drew a deeper breath, astonished at her using the 'fuck' word yet again. It came unexpected and unseemly from her sensual lips. "Suppose your father found out, Miss Ginny?"
Dewy hoped she was right.
He drew a longer breath and thrust into her faster still, rasping his shaft hard against her clitoris with each frantic stroke.
"That's better!" she cried out. "Now you're getting into your stride."
Her bucking hips went into overdrive and he struggled to keep up with her.
A climax came upon her suddenly. She arched her spine, raised her hips up off the sheepskin, threw back her head and opened her mouth wide, as if she was releasing a silent scream of pleasure.
But Dewy had yet to reach satisfaction. When Virginia's orgasm waned and she slumped back onto the sheepskin, he withdrew his cock and saw that it was wilting without having ejaculated. It was the first time he had been with a girl and not come to a climax. The first time he felt a complete failure.
Lizzie Hudson walked away from Exeter railway station feeling dangerously unprotected. The evening was damp and drizzly. Her bonnet and coat were soaked. Worse still, men were looking at her. She sensed it, just as she sensed that one of them was following her.
She'd broken her journey from London to Plymouth because the train had developed a fault and ran very late and she was insufferably tired. She had insufficient funds for a comfortable, well-padded seat in an express train. She grimaced at a nagging headache that resulted from her long, slow journey in an uncomfortable third-class carriage. After hours spent sitting on a jolting wooden seat, her backside was sore and her stomach felt nauseous. Now it was dark and cold and she wanted to rest in a warm bed for the night before travelling on to Plymouth the next morning.
She ducked into the doorway of a butcher's shop to look behind her. Sure enough, a man in old working clothes was stalking her. He stopped and pretended to look in another shop window, but the move didn't fool her.
"Sure, he's been following ye since ye left the station."
"Oh!" Lizzie spun round to see another young woman standing only a few yards away from her. "I didn't notice you."
"Ye were too busy keeping an eye out for that dirty old man, so ye were."
The girl looked about Lizzie's age: eighteen, almost nineteen. She was plainly dressed, even plainer than Lizzie, but she had a pretty face and a soft, lilting Irish voice. She wore a long brown coat that had clearly seen better days and it was getting wetter by the minute as the drizzle turned to rain. Her head was bare and her red hair fell about her face in damp straggles. She moved up closer to Lizzie.
"The likes of him hang around the station looking for girls like us. They think we're tarts, fair game to be robbed. If the bastard could get one of us alone in a dark alley he'd steal everything. Money, clothes...the lot. God, but I hate men. They're so insufferable."
"Not all men?" Lizzie replied.
"Yes, all men. Every bloody one of them. Give me a woman any day." The girl grabbed at Lizzie's arm. "Come along. Can I walk a little way with ye? For safety."
"Of course. You know Exeter?" Lizzie fell into step beside the girl. Already she felt safer.
"Well enough. Where are ye going?"
"I need to find a hotel for the night. Somewhere not too expensive." In fact, the cheaper the better. She held back from saying so. Her lack of money was an embarrassment as well as an inconvenience.
"Well, ye're in luck." The girl smiled. "I work as a maid at the Commercial Hotel, just a street away from here. It's the cheapest ye'll find in this part of Exeter. The name's Colleen, by the way. Colleen O'Callaghan."
"Glad to meet ye, Lizzie."
The Irish girl nodded, seemingly scrutinising her as she spoke.
"Are ye looking for work here?"
Lizzie thought for a moment. "No. I've secured a post in Plymouth. I'll get an early train in the morning. I'm not expected until tomorrow so it doesn't matter if I stay a night here." She called it a 'post' because it sounded so much better than a menial job in a seaman's mission.
"Well, this is the hotel."
Colleen led her to the front of a shabby three-storey building in a street of equally shabby buildings. Chunks of dirty plaster had broken away from the wall and two of the ground-floor windows were cracked. A faded sign carried the legend: The Commercial Hotel and Bar. Colleen gestured to the door. "Come on in out of the rain and we'll see if they've got a room for ye."
Lizzie followed the Irish girl inside, turning up her nose at a heavy smell of sweat, tobacco smoke and ale. The interior decor was as run-down as the exterior, but she took that as a good indication the rooms would be within her means. So it was grubby? So what? She would stay for only one night.
A tall, bearded man lumbered out from a room near the front door. He glanced first at Colleen. "Where have you been?"
The girl instantly adopted a servile manner. "To the post box, sir. The one at the railway station. I needed to send a letter to me mother in Galway."
"Sending money home?"
"More fool you." The man sniffed loudly. "I don't pay you to post letters in my time. Get into the kitchen. The guests will be wanting their food."
"Yes, sir." Colleen gave Lizzie a knowing nod before she scampered away.
The man watched her go and then turned his attention on Lizzie. "You looking for work here?"
Lizzie drew back her shoulders. "No. I want a room for the night."
"Just one night? Thinking of taking in a customer or two, are you?"
The man leered at her, raking his gaze up and down as if he was mentally undressing her. "Don't pretend with me, girl. I know a woman of the streets when I see one. That's what you are, aren't you?"
"No! How dare you say that!" The thought horrified her. Maybe she had come to the wrong hotel after all.
The man didn't look entirely convinced. "Please yourself. There's plenty of trade round here for wenches like you. Anyway, we're full."
"You've nothing at all? It's so cold and damp outside." Lizzie felt deflated. The last thing she wanted now was to walk the streets looking for another hotel. She tried to adopt a pleading expression.
The man shrugged as if he didn't care. He seemed about to turn away and then he scratched thoughtfully at his bearded chin. "You can share the maid's room if you've a mind to. It's not a big room, but I'll only charge you a shilling."
"A whole shilling?" Lizzie shook her head firmly. "You think I'd pay a whole shilling to share a room? No. I'll pay you nine pence and that's all. And I'll expect supper and breakfast as well for that price."
"Money in advance." The man shrugged again and held out one huge hand.
Lizzie curled her lip. He had given in too easily, perhaps even nine pence was too much. She took out her purse and carefully counted out the copper pennies. "I hope the bed is clean."
"If it's not, you can kick the maid. It's her job to keep it clean."
The drizzly evening turned into a cold, damp night. Lizzie ate a meagre cold meal in the hotel's shabby dining room before climbing up to the attic floor where Colleen slept. A single candle lit the maid's tiny room which was dull and lifeless, a reflection of the life she endured here. Lizzie shivered with an incipient sense of despair. Was this the sort of life she would find when she got to Plymouth?
She hurriedly undressed and released her long, golden hair so that it fell about her shoulders. With the cold air biting into her skin, she put on her nightgown and clambered into the maid's narrow bed. At first it felt hard and inhospitable.
Maybe it'll warm up when there's two of us between the blankets.
She'd never shared a bed. A room, yes. But not a bed. She hoped Colleen didn't snore or thrash about in the night.
Lizzie was still awake when Colleen came into the room an hour later and slammed the door shut. She sounded tired. "Jaysus, what a night. Them bar customers just didn't seem to want to go home. Are ye comfortable in that bed, Lizzie?"
"Comfortable enough." Lizzie didn't point out that it wasn't really wide enough for two and the mattress dipped in the middle. Colleen would be already aware of that.
The young maid stood facing the bed and stripped off her clothes, throwing them down onto the floor where Lizzie's clothes were piled. She seemed to have no shame or embarrassment about it. Lizzie watched intently, fascinated by the way the candlelight illuminated Colleen's nakedness. It was the first time she had seen another girl undress completely and she found it surprisingly exciting. She couldn't shift her gaze from the Irish girl who, despite her slender figure, had well-rounded breasts, prominent nipples and a thick mass of red pubic hair. Something about the vision made Lizzie's heart beat faster. She drew up her knees and clamped her hands together between her thighs. A tremulous feeling ran down her spine making her squirm like a kitten with a ball of wool between its paws.
"Bunch up and make room for me."
Naked, Colleen bundled herself into the bed which creaked beneath the weight of the two occupants. She nestled up close to Lizzie, reaching an arm across her chest.
"What about the candle?" Lizzie queried.
"It'll soon burn itself out."
"If you say so." Lizzie straightened her legs and pulled one of the maid's arms about her shoulders, struggling to find space for both of them. "Your skin is so cold." She nestled into Colleen's arm and felt a shiver run through her; a shiver of excitement at the feel of the naked girl's touch. It was something so new, so different to any other form of excitement, almost as if it was advertising its own wickedness. She chewed at her lip and wondered whether it was right or wrong to feel like this.
It's not as if I'm lying with a man. That would be wicked.
So what could be wrong with sharing another girl's bed? And if it wasn't wrong, why did she feel a strange sense of illicit pleasure?
"'Tis so cold tonight, but we'll keep warm if we cuddle up together."
Colleen cupped a hand over one of Lizzie's breasts and gently massaged it through the nightgown. Instantly, ripples of heightened delight grew out from her crotch and radiated through her body.
"You'd be warmer still if you wore something in bed," Lizzie pointed out, aware that her voice was raised a full octave. She trembled and wondered if the other girl could feel it. Something physically strange was happening to her. Her nipples were hardening and pushing up against the nightgown material and she was becoming noticeably damp between her thighs. She had only a light, filmy layer of blonde pubic hair, nothing like as thick as Colleen's forest, but it was wet.
"Don't like to wear anything when I sleep with someone," Colleen responded, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "It spoils the fun of it."
"The fun of it?" Lizzie tried to hold in check the warm strange glow she now felt inside. She suspected she ought to tell the maid to move away, to release the hold on her breast, but she couldn't. It was growing more exciting by the minute.
"The fun of having someone cuddle up beside ye."
Colleen squeezed the breast enclosed within her grasp.
"Don't ye think so?"
"I don't know." Lizzie breathed heavily. She ought to stop this now, before it went any further, but Colleen seemed to be treating it as perfectly normal. Maybe it was normal, maybe Lizzie Hudson was the one who was out of kilter. If she was...well, perhaps she could allow it to continue a little longer. It was, after all, a way of keeping warm.
Colleen leaned closer still and hovered her face over Lizzie's, holding her lips partly open. It was obvious what the maid intended, but Lizzie couldn't bring herself to prevent it. The kiss, when it came, was planted firmly on her lips. It was a long, gentle kiss that sent another tingle through her body. She'd never before experienced anything like it, never known such exquisite pleasure. It wasn't right, of course, she was sure of that now, but she couldn't bring herself to make Colleen stop. It was too enjoyable for that.
When Colleen broke the kiss Lizzie became aware of her own erratic breathing, and the thump of her heart. It grew louder still as Colleen slid her mouth down the length of her neck and lingered above her racing heart. Still kissing Lizzie's skin, she deftly undid the nightgown's laces and pushed it down to expose her chest.
Lizzie pictured the Irish girl's nicely rounded breasts and hoped her own were good enough to be seen. She let out a small, hushed sound as Colleen used a thumb to circle the crest of one nipple. Moments later, Colleen's lips were firmly around the nipple, sucking, caressing and drawing it into a solid little soldier.
Colleen brought her head back up to kiss Lizzie's lips again before drawing away far enough to smile into her eyes. Her soft, warm breath feathered against Lizzie's cheek.
"That was nice. Ye've got titties like an angel's titties, so ye have. Bet you'd like me to kiss them again. Before I kiss your cunny."
"Your cunny. Down there between your legs. I'll suck it and kiss it for ye. Wouldn't ye like that?"
"Oh! I don't know." Lizzie suddenly sat up and dragged Colleen's hand from her breast. The caressing and kissing of her breast had been pleasant, the kissing had been especially exciting, but the idea of having her...between her legs...sucked and kissed! No, that surely was going too far. Wasn't it?
"What's the matter with ye?" Colleen sounded surprised.
Lizzie struggled to put her doubts into words. "I've never done anything like this before. I don't know if I can let you do thatkiss mewhere you said."
Colleen reached out and gently pulled her back beneath the blankets. "Ye've never been with a woman or a man in bed? Never had your cunny sucked or licked?"
"God help ye. Surely such a lovely girl like ye has had a tongue inside her cunny once or twice?"
"I haven't! How dare you say that!" Of course she hadn't been in bed with anyone, doing what she was now doing with Colleen. Her father was a Church of England vicar with high moral standards: strongly imposed standards that were probably far too high for her to ever attain. She forced her breathing to calm down, forced herself to think clearly. Her father would be horrified at what she was doing.
She gazed into Colleen's eyes, expecting criticism, but she saw only compassion and surprise that she was so inexperienced in these matters. She felt immediately sorry at her harsh response. Her father would never approve of two girls sleeping together, but why did she have to pay heed to his difficult rules and standards? He had, after all, as good as thrown her out of his home.
Again, she breathed deeply. Maybe her father was wrong and Colleen was the one with the best ideas. Maybe she had a lot to learn this night: valuable learning. Taking another deep breath, she lay back close beside the Irish girl. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude to you. It's just that I'm not used to..."
"Not used to having someone make love to ye?"
Making love? Was that what they were doing? If this was love, there could be nothing wrong in it. "No. I'm not used to it at all." It came to Lizzie then that the one thing that had been missing from her life all along was love. Her father's house was a cold place, devoid of real affection. If this was what real love meant, she ought to embrace it, welcome it, enjoy it.
Colleen snuggled closer. "Forget about having a man in bed with ye. Ye haven't missed anything special. If ye take my advice, ye'll steer clear of them bastards. They only want pleasure for themselves. I'll show ye something much better." As she spoke she reached down beneath the blankets and pulled the hem of Lizzie's nightgown up around her waist.
Lizzie gasped. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to show ye something no man will ever show ye. I'm going to show ye how to get real loving pleasure in bed."
Lizzie froze as she felt Colleen push two fingers into her sex cleft: not a sudden thrust, but a slow, gentle caressing motion, as if the Irish girl was kissing with her fingertips. Lizzie pursed her lips. Something strange was happening to her; an even more exciting experience than anything she had felt so far. It was somewhat reminiscent of how she felt when she played with herself...but so much more intense.
"You like that? You like me feeling your cunny?" Colleen cooed as she rubbed her fingers against the most sensitive part of Lizzie's vagina.
"Oh...yes. It's lovely." Lizzie breathed out the words softly. Whether it was moral or not no longer mattered. Why worry about what her father would think? This was nice. If this was love, she wanted more of it.
"You can do it to me at the same time," Colleen said, an invitation delivered in soft tones.
Lizzie blinked. "You want me to feel you? Down there?"
"Course I do. Imagine ye're feeling yourself, rubbing yourself off. Put two fingers into me cunny and rub me the same way."
Lizzie's mind went hazy. She wasn't exactly sure how to go about it. She knew the layout of her own sex place, but would Colleen's be the same? She hesitantly slid two fingers into the maid's thick bush, searching for the opening to her vagina. It was damp, making her fingers wet and sticky. Her own arousal was gaining further momentum as she tentatively slid her fingers between Colleen's vaginal lips, teasing them apart.
"That's right. Now, ye know what bit to rub?" Colleen whispered into her ear.
No, she wasn't entirely sure, but she thought she ought to find the little bump she had discovered in her own sex place. If it worked for her, it should work for Colleen. She slid her fingers deeper into the maid's vagina and wriggled them about until they detected the magic spot.
"That's it, Lizzie. Ye've found it." Colleen shuddered. "Now rub it properly. Make me really feel it. I'm not a virgin so ye can push your fingers right it, as far as they'll go."
"Oh." So Colleen was no virgin? She must have been with a man. But any shock Lizzie felt was muted by the growing excitement of the sex play that was doing wondrous things within her own vagina.
Lizzie's heart beat faster as waves of pleasure ran through her, each more exhilarating than the last. She tried to rub Colleen at the same speed and rhythm as the other girl's fingers worked her own cunny. Cunny: that's what Colleen had called it. Lizzie had never heard the word before, she wasn't even sure if it was a proper word. Such things were never mentioned in her father's house, not even in private. But cunny sounded like a nice word, the sort of word that rolled easily off the tongue.
She closed her eyes in her enjoyment, savouring every moment until Colleen shifted in the bed, pulling her fingers out with one long motion. Lizzie withdrew her own moving fingers and wondered why the maid instantly crawled down beneath the blankets.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Colleen didn't reply. Instead she manoeuvred herself between Lizzie's legs and kissed the inside of her thighs, feather-light kisses that brought out further tingles of reaction. The sensation was so pleasing, especially when the kisses moved closer and closer to her vagina lips. Lizzie squealed as Colleen nosed into her filmy pubic hair and parted the lips. Without a pause, she slipped the tip of her tongue into the cleft, licking, caressing, rubbing against that special spot she had already aroused with her fingers.
Lizzie felt the muscles tighten in her back. She moaned with uninhibited liking because she couldn't help moaning. Playing with herself was never like this, never so beautiful. An overwhelming sense of physical and emotional release was quickly followed by another even more heightened peak. And then another.
Oh, dear God, don't let this stop.
It didn't. Yet another burst of emotion washed through her, like a slowly exploding sneeze deep within her body.
"Was that good?" Colleen asked, her voice muffled beneath the blankets.
"Thought you'd like it." Colleen continued licking, rubbing, kissing for several minutes before she broke off and crawled back up the bed. "Now ye can do it to me, Lizzie."
"Oh, but I couldn't." Lizzie trembled at the thought of it.
"Of course ye could. I bet ye'd be good at it." Colleen adopted a pleading expression. "Please do it to me. Please, Lizzie."
"If you say so." What was the point of refusing? If it gave such exquisite pleasure, it was worth doing.
As Lizzie wormed her way down beneath the blankets, her nightgown scrolled up her body until it was an encumbrance rucked up above her breasts. On a whim, she pulled it off and threw it out of the side of the bed before positioning herself naked between Colleen's legs. Wasn't this so wanton, so wicked? So wonderful? She'd never understood how such deep feelings could be brought to bear in her own body.
She followed Colleen's example, kissing the insides of the maid's thighs, slowly working her lips towards the thick bush of pubic hair. She pushed the tip of her tongue into the vaginal cleft, tasting the juices that lubricated Colleen and made the entry so easy. It was a not unfamiliar taste, almost likelike roast chicken...soft, juicy roast chicken with nuts and stuffing. She was tempted to laugh at the thought, but her tongue was too busy to allow it, working its way inside Colleen's cunny and instantly finding the magic spot it was seeking.
"Oh Gawd!" Colleen stiffened her body as Lizzie's tongue ran over the little bump.
The more she licked, the more Lizzie liked it. It felt good, it tasted good, it excited her and it was clearly giving the Irish girl great pleasure.
There was no mistaking the moment when Colleen experienced that slowly exploding sneeze. Her back arched off the mattress and she let out a long cry of joy. Lizzie felt satisfied. She could not only experience pleasure, she could give it. She licked at the maid's cunny juices one last time and then crawled up the bed to lie close beside her.
Colleen kissed her again on the lips. "Jaysus, but that was good. Wasn't that good, Lizzie?"
"Very good. Is that how it is with a man?"
Colleen snorted. "No, it is not! It's far better than you'll ever get with a man." She turned to face Lizzie and kissed the tip of her nose. "Listen to me, you're too damn good for any man. It'll take a decent woman to really appreciate you. So, don't ever let a man put his erection inside your cunny. Keep that place pure for a decent woman who'll use it properly."
With no other experience to fall back on, Lizzie had no option but to believe her. "If you say so, Colleen."
"But only a decent woman," Colleen said forcefully. "Taking all me clothes off for a bad woman was a mistake I once made. Will ye just take a look at this." She turned in the bed and lay on her stomach. "Look at me arse, will ye?"
Lizzie pulled back the blankets and looked. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth. Colleen's buttocks were scarred with a series of welts.
"A man did that to you?" she whispered.
"A man? Gawd, no. A slip of a girl! I was working near Plymouth and this high-bred girl wanted me to strip off and have sex with her. Great, I thought, until we actually got down to the business. She made me get down on me hands and knees and I thought she was going to suck me cunny. She was a good-looking sort of girl and I was just gasping to have me cunny sucked. But she didn't do it. Behind me back, she took a cane and beat me until the blood ran." Colleen turned over and pulled the blankets up to her chin. "She'd split the end of the cane so the sharp edges would cut into me flesh. I tell you this, Lizzie, that girl was evil. Some would have taken it without a word of complaint, but not me. I went to her highborn father and told him all about it. Told him straight, so I did."
"What did he do?" Lizzie cuddled up beside the other girl.
"He didn't seem surprised by it, that's for sure. It was almost like he'd heard it all before. He paid me to keep me mouth shut." She shrugged, a small movement of her slender shoulders. "Gave me a wad of money and sent me off to find meself another job. The money didn't last long. I wasted most of it."
Lizzie thought for a moment. "You told me that all men are bastards, but that was a girl who beat you. I don't understand."
Colleen sniffed and kissed her cheek. "Don't try to understand, my sweet. Just take my word for it; all men are bastards and so was that one bloody evil girl. Now, go to sleep. I've a busy day tomorrow."