Venus in the Country E-Book

James Jennings

• Herausgeber: Scrivere
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

"Venus in the Country" is the story of Pamela, a young maid, fostered from the age of 15 by Mr and Mrs Rumple. Pamela is informed by Mr Rumple of her new employ with Sir Richard and Lady Belinda Bromley, but having harboured a letch for the pretty girl for some time, he takes full advantage of the situation by giving an accurate education before she departs.
Expected to act as governess to her new employers children, Pamela avails herself of every conceivable opportunity to exercise and educate all about her in her new position.

Leseprobe

Venus in the Country

James Jennings

Venus in the Country 1895James JenningsThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy.First edition 2014

Chapter One

"The girl will have to go, Horace," Mrs. Rumple declared soundly to her husband. "She's getting ever a healthier appetite and a new dress needed every year. It's all become too much. We can get a cheaper skivvy who will do twice as much housework as she and have her room into the bargain."

"Yes, my dear," Horace Rumple agreed sadly. He had no wish to see Pamela go. Now approaching eighteen, she was as lovely a lass as he had ever seen and many a time had given him a fine tingle in his breeches.

At the age of fifteen, Pamela had come into the care of the Rumples, who were considered by one and all in the district to be the most charitable of people. Her parents, it was said, had been lost at sea, her father having been the captain of a fine merchant vessel en route to India. Mrs. Rumple had looked the girl up and down and considered she would make a nice servant to open the door to their guests and to do the housework and all manner of things.

But little by little the good lady had begun to find Pamela a bit highborn in her ways. Not that the sweet girl intended to be. She was quiet by nature and well spoken. Perhaps her accent was a trifle superior to that of her guardians, which upset Mrs. Rumple considerably.

"You must tell her today, Horace, and have done with it."

"Yes, my dear, but we can scarce put the poor thing out on the street."

Mrs. Rumple was only waiting to produce her trump card.

"There is no need, Horace. I have made due arrangements. An advertisement in The Times called for a companion. I answered it. I gave them the highest credentials. They are pleased to say that they accept. She may leave tomorrow."

Horace Rumple gazed across the breakfast table in awe at his good lady. She was ever resourceful and he lived in some fear of her. Had he not, he would have hopped into bed with Pamela ere this. Now he saw his chance. If the girl were to depart tomorrow, she would have little enough time to say anything to Mrs. Rumple about it. As luck would have it, his wife was to attend a social occasion that very afternoon. Beyond the windows of the house the sun shone bright in the garden. In every way it seemed a very fine day, he thought.

"I will attend to all, my dear," he murmured.

Mrs. Rumple nodded. A clatter came from the hallway where Pamela was dusting. Finishing her tea, the good wife entered the hall and addressed the girl.

"I am to have my hair dressed this morning, Pamela, and I shall not be here for most of the day. Mr. Rumple has some news to impart to you. Attend him now."

"Yes, Mrs. Rumple."

Pamela never curtsied, which annoyed her guardian. She would teach the next servant to do so as she believed they all did in the grand houses. Glaring slightly at the lissome suppleness of the girl's figure as Pamela dutifully, made her way to the dining room, Mrs. Rumple attended to her own affairs.

Horace received Pamela graciously. By his reckoning she had grown prettier by the month. Her chestnut locks fell thickly to her shoulders, which - such as he could see of them - were dazzling white. Her nose was neither too long nor too short and perfectly straight, being enhanced by two large, liquid eyes that ever seemed to hold an expression of wonderment. Of moderate height, the incurving of her waist and a certain fullness to her bottom - added to which was some impressive thrusting in her corsage - Pamela presented a picture of considerable allure.

"We - er - have something to discuss, Pamela. I think perhaps if we take a turn in the garden? I rather wanted to look at the summerhouse."

A trifle surprised, Pamela followed him out. The grass was green and lush on the lawn, and many pretty thoughts came to her as she gazed at the flowers and shrubs. The summerhouse lay at the end of the garden and it was thence that Horace led her, to be well out of sight of his wife. Within all was cosy, for this was in part his private den. The floor was carpeted and a pleasant divan stood in one corner. Next to the divan was a cabinet which - although Mrs. Rumple knew it not - contained a number of saucy photographs of naked and half-naked maidens which her husband secretly collected.

Horace cleared his throat and commenced to impart his news without delay. A look of astonishment and disbelief came over Pamela's lovely features, for she had never expected to leave the house and indeed had given no thought to such a thing despite all the work she had to do there.

"As I understand it from the gentry concerned, Pamela, the house is a fine one, well situated in a most pleasant part of Wiltshire, and your tasks will not be onerous. Indeed, I believe you will not have any housework to do."

"Oh! And I must leave tomorrow?"

"A conveyance will call for you early, my dear. However, there is one proviso. I needs must examine you before you leave. It was the express wish of Sir Richard Bromley, your new employer."

"Examine me? Oh, Mr. Rumple, you mean I must t... take my dress off?"

Her guardian's expression assumed a sly but pleased look.

"I do fear so. It will take but a moment. Wait, I will lock the door so that you may not be embarrassed by any disturbance. You wear not too much beneath, I trust?"

"Only my petticoat and stockings, but..."

Pamela's cheeks were rose-pink at the thought of unveiling herself in such a manner, yet at the same time her initial disappointment at the unexpected news was already diminishing. She loved all Nature, and the thought of actually living in the countryside instead of in this stuffy suburb quite enchanted her. Hesitating only a moment, therefore, while turning her back shyly on Mr. Rumple, she unbuttoned the back of her dress and began to raise it.

Horace Rumple held his breath. At first he could see her calves, then the dip of her knees at the back, and then, at last, rising above the tops of her rather coarse stockings, the ivory columns of her thighs. For a moment, he thought that Pamela would not raise the hem of her skirt farther to disclose that which he most longed to see. Valiantly aware that he was waiting, however, Pamela took a deep breath and with a sudden single swoop of her brown dress, cast it off her head and shoulders together with her petticoat.

Except for her stockings and shoes, now, she stood naked - a vision of such wondrous, subtle curves that the buttons of Horace's breeches almost burst thereupon. Her bottom was a perfect peach - its cheeks chubby and full, posed alluringly above the Venus-curves of her legs. Deeply tingling as it already was, his cock swelled up to many times its normal proportions and stood rock-hard.

"And now if you will turn, Pamela."

Biting her lip, the maiden obeyed, bringing her firm, ripe breasts to his view. Her brown nipples were like small berries and looked particularly succulent, but as much as he wished to dwell on them, Horace's glance fell promptly to her bush. Thickly curled, it presented on its slight mound a delicious triangle, so neatly formed that it almost appeared that Pamela had trimmed it.

The faint blush on Pamela's cheeks added to the allure of her appearance and a quiver of astonishment ran through her as Horace promptly approached her and fell to his knees. Never had he seen such a sinuous, curvaceous creature, her navel a veritable whorl of cream on her silk-smooth belly.

"Part your legs, Pamela, I must look properly," he husked.

Pamela closed her eyes, quite unable to believe that this was really happening. But, never having been out in the world before save when she had first come to the Rumples two and a half years ago, she could only think it was necessary. Shifting her feet apart little by little, she permitted Horace to gaze entranced at the moist lips which parted stickily in their nest of curls.

Horace trembled violently. Slowly his hands rose and slid up the backs of her thighs. The sensation of first feeling her stockings above her knees and then tasting with his fingers the creamy, swelling flesh above almost made him faint. His nostrils twitched at the delicious aroma she exuded. Feeling her quiver at his touch, he tightened his grasp and with an avid hunger pressed his lips up to encounter the juiciness of Pamela's nether mouth.

"AH!" Pamela gasped. Horace's mouth was ravaging her. Indeed, she even felt his tongue glide up within her. It gave her a feeling the like of which she had never known. The jellied cheeks of her bottom trembled as his palms sought upwards to cup them. Her knees bent and she found herself surrendering to the feeling.

Horace licked. It was perfect bliss. The curls massed about her plump mount tickled his nose exquisitely. Delving his tongue upwards, he found by chance rather than skill the sensitive button which immediately erected itself like a tiny penis under his labial caresses. Half-swooning, Pamela jerked and gasped. Her bottom gyrated.

"Oh! Mr. R... R... Rumple!"

"My dear, oh my dear, let me examine you further on the couch. Move back."

Quite dizzy with delight, Pamela obeyed. The edge of the seat caught the backs of her knees, and she fell back with a small cry that was quickly silenced by a gesture from Horace, who had risen and stood over her.

"We must be quiet, Pamela, and disturb no one. Raise your left leg and let it he along the back of the couch. Let your other leg dangle down to the carpet. I can then examine you better. I have the very instrument with which to do it."

Pamela thereupon hid her face in her hands, for Horace was doing no less than unfastening his breeches which slid immediately to his ankles. His legs were brawny and muscular, but the biggest muscle presented itself to Pamela in the very moment that she incautiously spread her fingers to peep and Horace raised his shirt.

His penis stood proud as a flagpole, the head rubicund and gleaming. Thick veins knotted themselves along its rigid length. Beneath she could see two hairy balls.

"Oh! Mr. Rumple! Indeed, you mustn't. Oh!"

"It is most necessary, Pamela," Horace breathed heavily. Lowering himself rapidly, he gave Pamela no time to adjust the position of her legs which her posture had brought wide open. With a little shriek, she received him on her belly and felt his thick drumstick beating a rhythm against her silky skin.

"Wh... wh... what are you doing?"

"Injecting you, my sweet. 'Us very necessary for your long journey. Let me cup your bottom and raise it a little. Ah! what plumpness - what divine cheeks! Can you feel it, Pamela?"

Crushed beneath him, Pamela knew not whether to wrestle or submit. The crest of his charger had slipped backward as he drew her hips up slightly and now it nestled menacingly at the soft entrance to her dell.

"Yes!" Pamela gasped. "I can feel it - but you can't... no, you mustn't... oh, it's going in... Ah!"

Pent up as he was, Horace almost spilled his manly juices in his excitement. Even Mrs. Rumple in her distant youth had never been so sinuous and curved as this, nor so infinitely enticing. As the lips of Pamela's quim yielded, he groaned. She was going to be damned tight, but the journey within would make all worth it. Feeling her fingers clutch protectively at his shoulders, Horace urged his cock as slowly as he could.

Pamela held her breath. It seemed such a monster, but its head was lovely and smooth and the manly grip of his fingers beneath her bottom excited her. Her breath puffed out-too long withheld-as the stiff rod inserted itself three inches and then stayed for a moment. The velvety walls of her slit clung to it. She could feel it throbbing madly.

"Oh! No more, I beg you! What will you inject me with?"

"Sperm, my love - the life - giver. You will feel its vibrant jets, its splashings. You will quiver with desire for more. Lift your right leg and raise it over my buttocks. Twill ease the passage. Ah! another inch! And another! Oh! It is going right in!"

"Ah! No! No! It's too big - take it out! Oooh!"

Pamela's back arched. The meaty shaft was conquering her. Amazed that she could receive so much, she clung more tightly to her rider and bent her knee over him as he instructed. Somehow she found her mouth under Horace's. Timidly at first, but in her rising excitement she parted her lips and felt them crushed passionately beneath his own. Sensing that her tongue had something to do with the matter, she protruded it a little, moaning fretfully as at last his entire cock sheathed itself within her.

Fearful to move again, lest he come, Horace contented himself with pecking on her cherry lips and taking full advantage to feel her bottom and breasts all over. Her little sobs of pleasure and surprise were lovely to hear. His balls pressed to the tight cleft of her bottom. Swimming in wonder, he lowered his head and began to suck upon her nipples which erected themselves like thorns.

How passionate Pamela could prove she was about to discover. Her slit had received all of his cock and clenched as tightly upon it as a baby's mouth. Feeling infinitely wicked, but knowing she must do as she was told, Pamela obeyed his every husked command and began to move her hips sinuously, finding that she could work the mouth of her cunny up and down his prick as she pleased.

The thrill was such that both partners were quickly overtaken by lust. Sucking upon her pointed pink tongue, Horace began to heave his buttocks. He had suspected her often of being a juicy little thing, and now he had full proof of it. Her nipples burned beseechingly beneath his chest, her stocking tops rubbing against his thighs.

"Ah, Pamela! I am fucking you! How delicious!"

"... t... t..." Pamela stuttered as if about to repeat the word. She didn't want him to stop - it was so lovely. Her bottom answered his thrusts with little jerks. The couch creaked. Easing her left leg from beside his own, Pamela joined and crossed it over the other so that they were wound about his waist.

"I shall c... come in a moment!" Horace panted.

"Yes," Pamela mumbled dizzily. It meant she was going to have her injection, she knew. He had promised that it would come jetting out of his big thing.

Horace groaned and grunted. He marvelled that he had lasted so long in her tight grip, but being ever a generous man, he had wanted her to have her pleasure of the bout. His eyes bulged, his complexion becoming ever ruddier. His balls smacked a fine dance against her bottom with every thrust. Pamela whimpered and clung. The loveliest, most delicious thing had now happened to her twice. It was as if her tummy had melted in liquid fire which had sparkled in her and then erupted in tiny thrilling spurts all over his cock.

"Give it to me - oh, do!"

"P... P... P...!" Horace stuttered, trying to say her name. But already the tingling flood was rising.

"F... f... f...!" Pamela spluttered, trying to say the word he had said. She was melting all over again and, just as she was, a giant shudder took Horace and he impelled the first thick jet of come within her.

"Oh! I can feel it! Do more, more, more! Oh, it's so thick and creamy!"

Clawing at his back and crisscrossing her stockinged legs fiercely, with whirling senses Pamela received her due - the big spouts filling her in such abundance as to soak her completely. Then they began to die away and she clamped more demandingly upon his cock, feeling the last fine spurts until all was done.

Limp, he sank upon her, his mouth buried in her neck. The dreaminess that follows upon such a bout took them in its net and they lay quiet. Pamela continued to signal her pleasure with fond little squeezes around his prick which slowly grew smaller again and finally slipped without. Dreamily she allowed his kisses to smother her face before they finally arose.

"What thighs, what breasts, what a bottom!" Horace murmured and clasped her to him as they stood upright. "I must inject you again, Pamela, before you leave."

Pamela cast her eyes down. She was more and more convinced that what they had done was very naughty, but it must be true-as Mr. Rumple had said-that she needed it. Softly acquiescing, therefore, she put on her dress again and smoothed it out sedately before they emerged as master and maid into the sunlit garden.

"Mrs. Rumple will not return until five this afternoon, Pamela."

"No, sir, I know."

"I will give you a further injection after lunch."

"Yes, if you will. Shall I have to take my dress off again?"

"It may not be necessary. A very pleasant way of absorbing it is simply to raise your skirt and bend over some convenient piece of furniture such as a table or the arm of a sofa."

"Oh, but then my bottom would be upward toward you, Mr. Rumple," Pamela replied. Her eyes were quite warm at the thought of receiving his big syringe again.

"A most convenient posture, my pet," he answered. He was wondering if he dare tell her that it would also offer alternative routes for his manly piston to take, but just then Mrs. Rumple descended.

"Mr. Rumple has told you the news, Pamela? Good. It will all be much better for you, I am sure. Horace, see to it that she does what she has to."

"Yes, my dear."

With Mrs. Rumple's departure, Pamela gazed after her wonderingly. From what she had said, it appeared that she approved of her receiving her injections. It was something all young ladies must have to have, though it surprised her that she had never heard of it before. Venturing to tell Mr. Rumple this while he was fondling her after lunch, she received his comforting smile.

"So it must always be, my dear. 'Tis a strange convention of Society that wishes it done but does not always wish it to be known that it is done."

"Oh, what a funny idea! However, I shall remember that always! Shall I bend over now? Will you do it in me?"

"Not yet, Pamela, for I have several things to teach you. See how it throbs to release its essence. But first you must take the knob between your pretty lips and let it ease within. Ah! how luscious your mouth! How divinely you suck! There is but one other route for it to take after this, and then you will be truly prepared for your future."

Chapter Two

Preparing to leave the next morning, Pamela was a much-changed girl, though no one would have thought it from the demureness of her expression.

Her greatest ordeal had come the previous night, when Mr. Rumple had dared to venture into her room. Mrs. Rumple had already been accommodated with a sleeping draught which her thoughtful husband had slipped into her sherry after dinner.

The events of the day had been too much for her, Horace declared, and helped her solicitously up to bed. Beseeching him not to leave her since she felt quite queer, Mrs. Rumple undressed and bid her husband do the same. Horace obeyed with alacrity, knowing full well that in but a few more moments even the greatest thunderclap would not awaken her.

Whilst Mrs. Rumple undressed, he attired himself in his nightshirt and held her lovingly in his arms until her first faint snores sounded. Still ever cautious, Horace laid down the bedclothes, parted her plump thighs and gently tickled her quim. At first Mrs. Rumple gave an answering twitch or two of her large bottom, but even such sensations as he was affording her by twirling a finger around her button could not allay the onslaught of sleep.

Finally her body grew inert and her snores louder. Wishing devoutly that he had thought to use this device before, Horace left the marital bed and went to the far more exciting one in the attic where Pamela lay. Herself a little drowsy, she received first his kisses hazily.

"Oh, sir, Mrs. Rumple may venture in!" she protested when her nightgown was raised.

"Nothing to fear, my love, all is well. Now I shall teach you to raise your bottom and to waggle it prettily. Come - no nonsense, or I shall bring the birch to it first. You would not like that?"

"No, Mr. Rumple - Oh! but what are you doing!"

"Presenting my cock to your bottom, Pamela. The first salute may prove a trifle harder than in your cunny, but we shall manage it. Lift well up, now - let me part the cheeks. Ah, what a rosy treasure!"

Fearful lest her shrieks might bring forth Mrs. Rumple, Pamela acquiesced to the lewd act, though it was necessary for her to muffle her mouth in her pillow while the sturdy rod urged its path slowly between her bottom cheeks. Being gripped tightly by Horace, she could move but little.

"No, I hate it! Please don't! Must I have an injection there?"

"In all your orifices, my sweet. Have patience. In no time at all you will begin to enjoy it. You will feel the rush of my sperm more sensitively within your bottom, I vow. It is a favourite sport among the gentry, I am told. I am breaking you in."

"Oh! But do not break it completely! I swear you are splitting me! Go more slowly, I beg! I cannot take it all!"

Long was the time that Horace laboured, for he was an understanding soul and was by now well aware that Pamela could become a pleasure-maiden beyond compare. Holding his well-gripped prick but four inches within her rosette, he allowed it to throb mightily, the more to lure her into taking it.

Finally his lubricious persuasions overcame her. Little by little Pamela found the sensations more attractive than they had at first appeared. With many a little puff and pant she received another inch and another, until with a delirious groan Horace was sheathed full within the wondrous globe of her bottom.

Thereupon, leaning over her and fondling her melons, he began to whisper many lewd words that Pamela had never heard before. But that she was being taught things she ought to know, she had no doubt. The feeling of having a big warm pole of stiff pounder in her bottom began to attract her more and more. Extending her tongue and turning her face to him, she indulged in exciting kisses whilst endeavouring to reply to Mr. Rumple in kind.

He appeared delighted that she was learning the words and began pumping her in earnest, entreating her nevertheless to be discreet at all times and to remember the attitudes of Society. Not meaning to ever forget these lessons, Pamela absorbed all as eagerly as she was then entertaining his cock.

"Oh Mr. Rumple, you are f... f... fucking me!" she bubbled, only to be corrected.

"No, my dear, I am buggering you - or sodomising, as it is also called - and what a rare delight it is, especially with a bottom as round and tight and smooth as yours. Push a little now - work your bottom back and forth. 'Tis the most secret of pleasures and gives the girl a rich injection!"

"B... b... I will remember that!" Pamela answered hotly. Everyone knew but no one must know, she told herself again and again. But then her sweet, innocent mind quite clouded over as she felt her tummy and slit melting again even though Mr. Rumple was engaged elsewhere. Her passage had eased considerably and now the piston was tight and smooth within her, working back and forth with a joyous lustiness until at last his donation was made. With infinite trembling and a great revelation of pleasure, Pamela felt it jetting and spilling and frothing into her in exactly the way Mr. Rumple had said.

Remembering it hours later, Pamela wriggled agreeably as she took her seat in the carriage that had been sent for her. She wore her grey dress that was only three months old, white silk stockings that Mr. Rumple had filched from his wife's chest of drawers, and a pink bonnet. Her travelling companion was a housemaid who had been sent to chaperone her. Her name was Lucy and she appeared about twenty.

"You must be awful clever, Pamela - are you going to teach the girls?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure I shall teach nicely. I know a little French, for I learned it at school. Are the girls my age?"

"Miranda is sixteen and Helen eighteen. You'll get on famous with them, I'm sure. Was you a companion where you lived?"

Pamela nodded. It was partly true. She had been a very close companion to Mr. Rumple these past hours. Rather than talk about herself, she wanted to hear about Sir Richard and his family. He was a military man, Lucy said - a fine, upstanding gent. She didn't take to his wife so much. A bit hoity-toity she was, and got up to all sorts of things.

"What things?" Pamela asked curiously. She felt suddenly more grown up now that she was out in the world.

"That I can't tell you. There's rumours galore, but it all goes on behind closed doors when they hold these balls and things. On top of that there's the riding and hunting," Lucy added with a sniff.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to hunt poor foxes!" Pamela exclaimed.

"I ain't sure it's the foxes wot get hunted as much as the young girls and the newly married ladies. You want to watch out, Miss."

"That I shall," Pamela said.

Her mind was all a-spin again now that she had heard this. However, it occurred to her that Lucy was probably exaggerating in order to make an effect. Pamela's visions of very well-to-do people - the "toffs" as they were rudely called - were exactly what Mrs. Rumple had instilled into her. Well-born people, Mrs. Rumple had often said, set the tone for Society. Their manners were always to be followed.

Pamela wondered if Lucy meant that the girls and young married women received injections during the hunting and at other times. After all, it was such a pleasure to receive them. She wondered if she dare ask Lucy, but decided not to. Toffs would not descend to telling their servants such things.

After her journey, Pamela felt quite tired, but she revived when she saw the manor house. It lay in beautiful rolling countryside and quite nestled in its own little valley. Tall elms appeared to guard it, and rooks and crows rose with a great fluttering of black wings when the carriage rolled down the long drive.

Pamela almost clapped her hands at the sight of the well-laid-out gardens which surrounded the old house and seemed to stretch forever behind it. There were rose bushes with blooms of many shades and colours, and she felt quite breathless with happiness at the thought that she would be able to smell them all.

Awaiting her arrival was a grave-looking footman dressed in black with gold braid. He helped her down and looked about for her luggage. Pamela blushed at the thought of how little she had. Mrs. Rumple had always impressed upon her to tell the truth, but after her adventures Pamela knew a little better.

"My other luggage will come later," she said. Then she was led as gravely as ever within a hallway that was almost as large as the Rumples' drawing room. A maid appeared, neatly attired in a starched white apron and cap over a black dress.

"I will show you straight upstairs, Miss. Miss Miranda and Miss Helen are waiting to see you."

Up the broad, curving staircase with its heavy polished rail they went. Pamela expected to find the bedrooms on the first floor, but another flight had to be climbed before they reached them. Arriving at one of the doors, the maid knocked. Almost immediately it opened.

"Oh, Miss Rumple (for all believed her to be the daughter of those who had commissioned her coming), how pleased we are to see you!" Helen exclaimed. Expecting to find an old maid, she was pleased and delighted to cast her eyes upon such a young and attractive girl.

"Oh! isn't she pretty! How glad I am you are not an old frump!" Miranda declared, bouncing forward.

Pamela found the two sisters very much as she had expected them. Miranda was a perfect cherub and possessed an exquisite figure for her age which was overshadowed only by that of her sister. Both had the same dark locks as Pamela herself. Smooth of skin and with large, liquid eyes they looked enchanting. They shared a large, cosy bedroom, and each girl had a small four-poster bed prettily draped with lace curtains. In the winter velvet drapes let down to keep them lovely and snug, they said.

As soon as Pamela had cast off her cloak, they all began to chat. Aided by a bottle of wine which Helen kept hidden at all times, they were soon as merry as three young ladies closeted alone can be. Fairly soon, though, there came an interruption. A very handsome young man entered.

"Ronald is our favourite cousin!" Miranda said proudly. She promptly threw herself into his arms and kissed him. During this sweet interval, Pamela was excited to see that Ronald's hands were straying. One found its path upward to Miranda's bubbies, which were already the size of small melons. With the other he boldly caressed her bottom.

Helen laughed and looked at Pamela.

"You see, he is very forward! He must greet you next."

"No, it is not my turn. Two sisters must be kissed one after the other," Pamela replied, though secretly she was agog to feel the young man's arms around her.

Then Helen jumped up and took her turn. Coiling her slender white arms about her cousin's neck, she announced the intention of giving him "the longest kiss in the world."

"Oh, come, we shall time you, then! Let us count Miranda. One, two, three, four..."

It was the most breathless kiss Helen had ever given, but she had been dying to do it and to feel Ronald's tongue all around her own. Besides, Ronald always handled her very naughtily - much more so than he did Miranda. When their lips met, his hands immediately cupped her bottom and felt the lovely resilience of its cheeks.

Quite forgetting herself, Pamela clapped and said, "Oh, yes, hold her thus!"

"Quickly - let us pull her skirt up," Miranda whispered. Both were sitting on one bed while the enlaced couple stood quite near them.

"No, it is too bold!"

But no sooner had Miranda jumped up than Pamela followed. Quite absorbed in her long kiss, Helen did not hear them or sense their [...]