The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The door to the sauna opened, it was Lady Lyanthe, a white towel wrapped around her. And there was Hannah with her hand very clearly grasped around Sir Hugh’s cock. Caught almost in flagrante delicto. A few more minutes and almost certainly Hannah would have impaled herself again.

Hannah was more than embarrassed but Lady Lyanthe did not so much as raise an eyebrow.

“Ah, Hannah, did you enjoy your walk? It seems to have been raining whilst I slept. Perhaps you got wet again?”

The delightful ambiguity of the word. Hannah was undoubtedly wet. The heat from the sauna saw to that, damp with perspiration, but of course between her legs the smooth liquid wetness of sexual arousal was there. Very much there.

A slight tug and the white towel slipped from Lady Lyanthe. It would not be fair at all to call Lady Lyanthe fat—but voluptuous would certainly be apt. The years had added a little here and a little there and had left Sir Hugh’s wife curvaceous in all the many places. Big breasted with unusually large areolae, not quite like saucers but certainly not pennies! They wobbled as she sat down.

Lady Lyanthe’s sex was so very different from Hannah’s own; not the revealed mounding of the mons, all naked with the sweet little divide showing, but a profusion of curls—indeed untamed might be an apt description, a striking chestnut colour, curling here there and everywhere.

Hannah uncertain at the etiquette. Should she unhand Sir Hugh and pass him over to his wife to toss; what was the correct thing to do in the sauna? “It rained a lot—we went into the folly, you know.”

“I hope Hugh lit the fire.”

“Oh yes. That made it warmer. Not as warm as here though!” It was so much easier talking but should she take her hand off Sir Hugh’s cock? It was so big in her hand. She did not dare move it.

“No, the sauna is so right for a damp afternoon. We often come in here. Please, don’t let me interrupt. I mean I’ve done all that so often with Hugh here, it’s not like it’s new to me!”

“Would you rather...?” It seemed only polite.

“No, no carry on. I am a little fatigued and I am sure Hugh has worked you up a little. He has a way about him. Please do pull on him, my dear, he does so enjoy that.”

So strange to be moving Sir Hugh’s cock whilst his wife watched, covering and uncovering the shiny dome—to be invited ‘to pull’ as Lady Lyanthe had quaintly put it. So strange to be watched whilst engaged in sexual play. But Lady Lyanthe did not seem to be paying much attention. Glasses perched on her nose she had begun reading a book.

Sir Hugh continued. “I prefer the hamam. Perhaps I might yet build one. I fancy constructing just a small one perhaps based on the one I saw in Nicosia. We holidayed there a few years ago. Small and intimate but I do think the domed roof has so much more than the pine of the sauna. Studied with small windows letting in the light. I have sketched some plans even.”

“Unfortunately Hugh will want the girl masseuse for his day dream. I much prefer the strong young man for the task, don’t you Hannah. Naked and oiled. How pleasing for us to lie there and be worked upon—massaged, my dear, massaged!”

Lady Lyanthe smiled at Hannah and mouthed something. To Hannah it seemed she was suggesting Hannah should take Sir Hugh in her mouth. A hint of a wink and back to her book.

Hannah had only first sucked on Sir Hugh’s erection a few minutes before and that had really been, she thought, to warm what seemed such a poor little penis. How small and shrivelled they became in the cold. Now though it was standing proud and it would be a much more substantial organ she would slip between her lips. It seemed it was for her to be the instigator of the sex play. Sir Hugh had not yet really touched her at all that day. He had talked a lot and she had both fondled him in the folly—had even impaled herself on his erection—and fellated him in the sauna but he had not so much as caressed a breast. It had frustrated her and built her excitement—the anticipation strong.

“It is certainly nice and warm in here.” Her hand slowed and she stared at Sir Hugh’s erection and moved her head a little closer. The dome so rounded, so shiny and so close. Such a strange and intimate connection—the wrapping of lips around a man’s knob. Up close the thing that had been inside her and most certainly inside Lady Lyanthe many, many times, seemed so strong, swollen and so deliciously masculine. Hannah’s lips opened and her tongue slid gently around the smooth skin, wetting them before descending.

As Hannah moved she looked up and saw Lady Lyanthe watching; watching as Hannah’s lips slipped over the smooth skin of her husband’s knob and then Hannah held it, just the plum head in her mouth, her lips closing just below the corona as if to prevent escape. Lady Lyanthe smiled and nodded encouragingly, though she could not see Hannah’s tongue caress and feel just how smooth the skin was—that was hidden.

Lovely to suck on a man, lovely to do so in the heat of a sauna, lovely for Hannah to slide her lips down the shaft taking more and more of it in. Lovely of course to feel the sap rise and drink but Hannah did not want that. She wanted the organ in her properly, wanted to bounce on it again, feel its rugged strength and feel her orgasm building. She did not want it losing its rigidity. How nice it would be to have other men there—what it would be like to be fucked by one whilst she sucked—and drank—another. The situation was all rather wrong—two women and one man. Bring on the young Turks with their long curved sheathless scimitars, what had Sir Hugh said, their penisin sertlešmesi! Would Lady Lyanthe be bothered by them?

Hannah’s hand sought Sir Hugh’s scrotum, the testes hanging low in the heat, and held. It was all very exciting. Her head bobbed up and down, her mouth like a vagina seeking to be filled; faster and faster as she lost herself in the sexual rhythm. Thoughts of gushing fountains in her head.

Hands on her head lifting her. “Careful, Hannah, my dear. We don’t want to lose that erection too soon do we?” It was Lady Lyanthe. “You were getting quite carried away. Understandable. Perhaps you can taste later. Why don’t you sit on Hugh’s lap? I’d like to see that. No, no, the other way around so I can see better.”

Normally—or at least the one time she had had intercourse sitting on a boy’s lap—and indeed just recently in the summer house—she had been facing the man: but Lady Lyanthe had her sitting facing away. And before she had pushed the penis into her by herself, but this time it was Lady Lyanthe holding it ready for her, pointing it at her hole so Hannah just had to descend and let it slip back up into her for the second time that day. Lovely to feel herself being opened again. Lovely, at last, to feel Sir Hugh’s hands on her breasts manipulating, teasing, pulling.

“Gently now, not too vigorous. Hugh has great staying power but you are very young and sexual, my dear, and you do want to ride him for a little while don’t you? Exercise those lovely smooth thighs. We must see you mounted on a horse sometime. You must look very fine in a saddle with—or without—the jodhpurs!”

And ride him Hannah did. So strange to be riding—well fucking—a man whilst his wife was watching and encouraging. So very strange. And then there was the allusion to her riding a horse and the suggestion of riding without jodhpurs. What would it be like to fell the hard leather of the saddle between her naked thighs and against her perhaps completely unprotected sex? Did Sir Hugh or perhaps Lady Lyanthe ride like that sometimes? Surely at least there would need to be restraint to a woman’s breasts?

Hannah rode, as Lady Lyanthe put it, Sir Hugh. Up and down the firm pole, her thighs working.

“You know, perhaps, I might after all. If you don’t mind.” It was so very odd; so very matter of fact; so almost normal; so very genteel as if Lady Lyanthe was deciding, after all, to take a slice of seed cake with her tea.

“No, of course not, I...” What could Hannah say?

“Shall I?” Hannah was fully impaled, Sir Hugh’s penis completely inside her, its smooth dome right up to her cervix, her sex deliciously filled and expanded.

“If you wouldn’t mind, my dear.”

Hannah pushed herself upwards, the muscles of her thighs tightening, and off she came, leaving the erection to fall back against Sir Hugh’s stomach all shiny and wet. Embarrassingly wet really. It showed just how excited Hannah was about the whole experience. And, of course, Lady Lyanthe had been able to see it all—the penis embedded, the penis coming out, Hannah’s whole sex exposed, open and—it could not be denied—very wet.

It was not missed by Lady Lyanthe. “That looks wonderfully slippery. So nice to be able to borrow a young girl’s lubrication! I shall slide just so deliciously.”

Lady Lyanthe moved across, her ample body shiny with the heat, and, adopting the same position, slid easily back down Sir Hugh’s erection making it disappear once again.

There was something decidedly sexual in Lady Lyanthe’s comment. Sex had a lot to do with mixing of fluids—saliva with saliva; semen and girl wetness; saliva and semen; saliva and girl juice—but this was a mixing of the wetness of women plural with, at least at some point in the future, with the semen of a man. It struck Hannah she was being drawn into something else. Two women sharing a man could become very personal indeed. Lady Lyanthe had not asked Hannah to touch her—but would she?

It was clear Lady Lyanthe was a horsewoman. Her thighs were strong and she bounced up and down on Sir Hugh’s pole as if she was in a saddle. It would be difficult for her to ride naked without restraint to her breasts thought Hannah again. As she rode, they were bouncing up and down like anything until Sir Hugh reached and held them still in his hands, her large areolae in his palms. Into Hannah’s mind came the image of them riding horseback together one in front of the other, Lady Lyanthe holding the reins but Sir Hugh behind and restraining her breasts.

“It is funny, isn’t it, Hannah how good a cock feels up you. I suppose, though, it must soon be your turn again.”

Her flushed face and enthusiastic bouncing indicated just how much she was enjoying the cock.

“Such a shame we only have the one. I remember how good it was out in India when my good friend, um, Sophie, no need for you to know more, and I would spend happy afternoons chatting away as we each rode one side by side and sometimes, would you believe it, took tea at the same time. Can you imagine that! Hot, hot, ridiculous decadent afternoons but we had so many men to choose from in the barracks. If one came too soon we would just smack him on the bottom and send him drooping – should I say dribbling—away for another! Can you imagine it? Another young cavalry officer arriving all firm and enthusiastic, ready to leave us dripping. But I am hogging Sir Hugh...”

Once more the erection slapped back upon Sir Hugh’s stomach as Lady Lyanthe arose. From sitting across from them, Hannah had been able to watch the sliding penis and seen it come out, see Lady Lyanthe open vagina denuded of its visitor before the older woman arose and made space for Hannah. It did not seem any less wet.

“May I?” Lady Lyanthe was holding her husband’s erection as Hannah positioned herself. “Down you come, my dear. Yes, in it goes. So naughty seeing his knob push at you. Such a pretty sex you have and such a sweet little clit.” Her finger actually touched the little button. " There, in it goes all—the way!”

It was so strange—a sharing of a man’s penis and talking during intercourse.

“When did you first?” A question from Lady Lyanthe.

Hannah rose up the shaft.

“First, err, with a boy?”

Hannah descended.

“Yes my dear, when did you first feel a knob pushing at you—not your or another’s fingers or a banana or something. Not trifles but the real thing—a firm erection?”

Hannah reddened; it had all been a bit silly.

In the pause you could hear the squelching sound of the ongoing intercourse.

“Well it wasn’t really very long ago. I was going out with this boy. Not anymore. You know how these things happen. Kissing in a bedroom and it all gets a bit carried away. His hand in my blouse. Yes, first time a boy had touched there—them. So nice! Of course he wanted to...”

“Of course. But I expect you did as well, Hannah!”

“Well, maybe, OK, yes. Of course I did. Wanted to see what boys were like. But had he any protection with him? NO! The awful thing was I did. I had a packet of Durex in my knicker drawer. I’d bought it to see what they were like. Awful really for him to see the open packet. I could hardly tell him I’d tried one on a banana to see...”

“And did you... with the banana?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to tell him that!”

“Did you?”

“OK... yes!”

“Nicer to have the real thing.”

“Isn’t it!” And Hannah was sliding on the ‘real thing,’ the very real big banana of Sir Hugh’s erection. And Lady Lyanthe could very much see it.

“I made him put it on before we really started. So unromantic, or not sexy looking back, but I was worried. I got him to take all his clothes off before I did—even his socks – and, dreadfully, I giggled. I think I was a bit embarrassed but yet seeing an erection for the first time sticking out like that. It looked so, well, funny. That put him off and he started to go down.”

“So you had to help?”

“Yes. So different from the banana! I held him and he showed me what to do.”

“How to wank.”

“Well, yes!”

“So very different, not just from the banana but from, well, us women.”

“And up he went?”

“Oh yes, and then I got the packet. So funny really. Him, Dave, ripping open the packet and trying to roll it down. He’d got it the wrong way round! But he did get it right the second time and down it rolled. Not really awfully sexy with that teat at the end!”

“No, even less so when it’s filled and the thing is half coming off!”

“And I was still dressed and there Dave was, you see, wearing just the Durex!

So strange to be discussing this early experience. Something she would not really have discussed with anyone only a day or so before.

“I let him undress me and then...”

“I think, ladies, I can hold out but a little longer.”

Hannah made to rise.

“No, no Hannah.” Insisted Lady Lyanthe. “You have it; after all I have felt the lovely sensation of Hugh’s spurting many, many times in my own... place—more than I can count I suppose! I remember the first time with a man, oh, so vividly.”

Again, what was the right thing to do—ask what happened or treat the statement as complete and needing no elaboration?

“I was a virgin, at a convent school: I knew nothing of men.”

Hannah had no need to say anything, it was clear Lady Lyanthe was going to reminisce. Again what was the right thing to do? Do what she so wanted which was ride some more and come whilst feeling Sir Hugh fill her with his semen or sit very still whilst Lady Lyanthe talked? It seemed polite to sit still. It was not easy. Would Sir Hugh hold?

“Though something of women if I am honest. It was nice to cuddle up to a friend in the dorm and talk. We would talk about men and what they might be like and it seemed, you see, so much easier, pleasanter and friendlier to touch your friend rather than yourself. You can understand?”

“Mmmm, oh yes.”

What about you?”

“No, not with girls. No, never.”

An eyebrow raised.

“It was the boys though that really interested us or the conception of boys. We knew very little. As you can imagine. And our imaginings were plentiful. We had little idea. Not even of the size of their, well, ‘equipment’. Even the word ‘penis’ was exciting to us! We had that so wrong it was laughable looking back. We had such a shock.”

Hannah nodded in agreement. It had been a surprise to her as well.

“Unlike you I was not alone when I first... I first saw—and touched.”

“Really?”

“No it was not a boyfriend or anything like that. As I said we had no idea of men really, locked away in a convent boarding school. Not even biology books showing cross sections of genitalia; perhaps the most helpful were classical paintings and statues but you know how small the Greeks portrayed the penis. Such little things compared to the reality—as you can feel.”

Hannah could feel alright!

Sir Hugh interjected, “Depiction of the male organ as small and tapered with a long foreskin was the fashion with the Ancients. Perhaps, but we do not know, it was to contrast it with the size of the tumescent organ. The Greeks regarded the exposure of the glans penis as inappropriate—rude if you like—due to its connotation with sexual arousal. The depiction as small may have been to emphasise the non-sexual nature of the ‘resting’ member. Not obscene at all. The large penis regarded as gross and comical whereas the idea of male beauty...”

“My story, I think, Hugh. Not your pontificating on the subject.”

“I was with two friends on a country walk. It was near the end of term, a hot June day and we were judged old enough to be allowed out. Ridiculous really. I am sure we were eighteen: not little girls at all! A hot day and the river so tempting for a swim.

We debated the idea. No swimming things. Should we go into the cool water in just bra and panties? But we had seen nobody and it seemed silly to get such things wet. So funny, the three of us naked like that on the river bank; our little piles of clothes left behind as we stepped into the crystal clear, beautifully cool water; giggling a lot I expect, as young girls do. The swimming lovely; and such fun splashing each other with the hot sun beating down and the water droplets shining as they flew.

And then he was there. Right there on the bank, between us and our clothes, looking at us. Just the one man. ‘That looks nice,’ I think he said. Whether he meant us or the water I wonder thinking back. Well what were we to do? Scream? I think we just sunk lower and tried to talk casually. And then he asked if he could join us.

I think it struck us all at the same time. He meant come in the water and that would mean taking his clothes off. He was not our age. We thought him old but I do not suppose he was really very old at all. We had seen him in the village. He and his wife ran the sweet shop. We knew him and he knew us. I don’t think we thought he would just stop at his pants – the phrase ‘join us’ seemed to imply more. The prospect of seeing a naked man suddenly presented itself to us. We looked at each other and knew exactly what each was thinking. Of course we said yes.

Thinking back it must have been a high point in his life. The opportunity to strip off and expose himself to a group of young girls! And it is not that we did not watch or pretend not to be watching. We just stood in the water and stared. He was facing away from us when his trousers and pants came off. I remember that so clearly, the sudden exposure of his tight buttocks—and then he turned around. Well, I am sure all our mouths were open.

What we had been so keen to see; so very interested to see in the flesh; was nothing like those statues; nothing like it at all! Clearly seeing us and perhaps the undressing had had more than a little effect. He was standing as firm as Hugh is now and there we were down below in the river gazing up at his... I should not say enormous because I don’t think in retrospect it was but it seemed something like that to us by comparison. Yes, this great male horn curving up from his pubic hair. And dangling bollocks of course. And standing above us made it all so much more impressive. The male rampant! I think we just stood rooted to the spot as he stood there for a few moments, no doubt he was enjoying the feeling of exposing his manhood to these young girls – to us. Thinking back, the dramatic turning to us must have been deliberate.

Yes, he definitely paused for a few moments before he climbed down into the river our eyes glued to his penis—his erection. We had not seen such a thing before!

We had no idea it got big like that. I am not sure we even knew it got bigger. I think, and it is difficult remembering back, we knew it got stiff but not like that! We could see, could imagine, the little thing made solid ‘going in’. We at least knew that was where it needed to go—but our imaginings were nothing like the reality... the dramatic difference between the supposed and the actuality! I am sure one of use must have whispered something to that effect—the impossibility of it ‘going in.’ And there it was getting closer, this fleshy horn with its big knob at the end!”

“Did he?”

“He didn’t even touch us! Just came into the water. Said something about how cool it was and started swimming as if there was nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I thought there’d be more...”

“Not straightaway.”

“Ah!”

“No, it all settled down. There was a bit more swimming around. Him talking to us but when he stood up in the river we were amazed to see the horn had gone. It had shrunk away almost to normal – well to us anyway! Ancient Greek size—what we had originally expected.”

“One of us, I don’t think it was me, must have said something. He cannot have missed where our eyes were looking. I can remember him explaining how the penis worked. He must have appreciated our lack of knowledge. Probably really enjoyed our attention and the opportunity to explain. I mean, being able to talk about his cock to a collection of schoolgirls! Being able to lift it up and show it to us as he talked.”

“He explained the effect of cold water and contrasted that with the effect of erotic stimulation. Assured us that the erection really could go into the vagina—I am sure I remember him using the word ‘glove’ to describe the fit! The idea that we could provoke such a reaction just by a man looking at our bodies.”

Hannah had smiled. Boy’s magazines gave more than a clue about that!

“We climbed out and had not a towel between us to dry us with but the sun was hot. Imagine us standing on the river bank naked and with this naked man. I don’t know if it was him or one of us but the suggestion was made to jump up and down to get dry. Well, that was something; seeing his penis flopping up and down as he jumped but, there again, our breasts bounced and you can imagine what that did to him. Men are so silly about breasts! There we were all jumping up and down—what a sight—and he was getting an erection! We just stared and stared.”

“I think it was he who suggested a walk along the river bank to get properly dry. It must have been a high point in his life, walking with a bunch of naked schoolgirls in the sunshine. It was such a funny feeling leaving our clothes behind and just going like that! And we were walking with a man—not just a man but a naked man with this great curving horn! Of course we talked about it; of course, we were fascinated; and of course he suggested we could touch it ‘if we liked.’ If we liked! You can imagine just how much he must have liked that! Thinking back you can almost imagine him saying ‘you can suck it if you like’ but we had no idea about fellatio—so virginal it was not true.”

“And we certainly took up his offer. First one then another; none wanting to be left out; one hand after another; a tentative touch and then a real ‘feel.’ The firmness of it let alone the strange feel of those eggs in their wrinkled sack. I wonder if he had to warn us not to squeeze too hard—that funny vulnerability of men. I think I managed more of a feel than most—I think I held him as we walked along but perhaps one each side had a grasp. Of course he kept hard the whole time. Not surprising given—well of course he did – he asked if he could feel our breasts. And that was nice—the first time a man touched us. We must have been so wet actually—and I don’t mean from the river! Him holding our breasts in his hands, probably bouncing them and certainly tweaking our nipples. Imagine that. Us all pausing and all that touching.”

“We walked back along the river bank and when we got back to our clothes he asked if he could see between our legs and we let him. We lay down and opened our thighs and let him inspect. He must have remembered that for years. Perhaps in bed with his wife—we knew his wife, she was in the shop—he would be thinking back to that hot summer’s afternoon when he had three schoolgirls’ pudenda spread out for him to view. I can remember him looming over us—with his great horn! And of course he asked if we would like to feel his penis inside us—and we were all too scared! He did not get that from us—he did not take our virginity! We did not take up his offer of only going in ‘a little way.’ But the feel of his stumpy fingers—ah well—stirring our little nests.”

“Did you make him come?” Hannah could not see them all just getting dressed.

“I think he told us we were probably wise not to risk the penis inside because of babies and that lead to him explaining more about semen and ejaculation; he asked if we would like to see that and, what a surprise, we did! I am sure he got us all to work him. I am sure he explained what to do and what was best. What a joy for him. One naked schoolgirl after another, flushed face, bare breasts, pulling at his cock.”

“I know what happens, but do tell Hannah where he came. Lyanthe has told me this story before!”

“If men cannot come in your mouth, vagina or bottom where do they most like to come?” Lady Lyanthe asked.

It was a question to Hannah. “I suppose... on your breasts.”

“Of course! And the breasts he came on were mine. It was not by my hand but it was on my breasts. We had not let him get his knob near our bits but I said I didn’t mind there. I knelt and one of my friends worked him. We were amazed something else could come out of the hole he weed from. We did not really know what to expect. Did not really expect to happen what happened. He’d told us but I don’t think we quite believed.

He’d told my friend not to stop moving her fist when he started but to keep going and I think, it might have been Sandy, did not stop. He did warn us it was about to happen but the surprise when these gobs of spunk started spurting was still considerable—and I could feel them raining down on my breasts. I am sure we just stared and stared as his penis produced and did not even look at his gasping no doubt ecstatic face!”

“Of course he thanked us. Said what a lovely surprise and afternoon it had been and as we stood in a group, there was me with my breasts literally dripping cum. I think he hurriedly dressed and was off. We felt so peculiar when we next went in the sweet shop and he didn’t say a word about it. Hardly could with his wife there! I expect he went for plenty of country walks but never again... but I don’t know—certainly not with us because we were soon away for the summer holidays and away from school for good.”

“So there was I on the river bank with this cum all over my breasts and my friends not really knowing quite what to say about it. I think, but I cannot honestly remember, I hugged each in turn so our breasts were squashed together and we all ended up as messy as each other—three schoolgirls with sticky, spunky shiny breasts.”

“I wish I could have seen that!”

“I am sure you do, Hugh—and would have liked to make them the stickier!”

“So you had to go in the river again?”

“I expect so—and walk up and down to dry again.”

“Without anything to hold on to?”

“I think we all actually masturbated together but it is a long time ago.”

“Nice to imagine,” said Sir Hugh, “three naked schoolgirls working themselves up on the river bank—fingers between thighs—did you help each other?”

“Hugh!”

But Hannah noticed Lady Lyanthe did not really answer the question.

There seemed to have been a suitable gap. Perhaps a time for Sir Hugh to become a little less ‘excited’ though, there again, possibly not with the idea of the three schoolgirls on the riverbank fresh in his mind! For Hannah her excitement had not abated one jot—the story had been erotic for her and she was desperate to be moving again. Desperate to feel that wonderful sliding sensation of a cock moving within her. Hannah’s thighs began to work once more. Not fast but sufficient to give relief—the piston was in motion again.

“Have you ever held more than one, Hannah my dear?”

“What?”

“Penes, penises,” interjected Sir Hugh.

“No, not at once. Why have...”

“I remember once in a sauna in Denmark having my hands full of the most delightful cocks sprouting from two of the most delicious Nordic men I have ever met.”

“Did you?”

“No, no, it was all a bit surreptitious, cocks pulled from under towels. It was not the done thing. I remember so clearly how they came together in my hands, one spurting over my left thigh as the other did the same on the other side. Absolutely together, they really were, yes so good to see and that lovely feeling of warm drops of semen all on my skin. They were only just tucked back in cover—the penises I mean, not yet fully ‘down’—when in came another woman. We were all covered in towels but she must have seen the tell tale droplets all over my lower thighs and knees. You could not really miss what it was—and there was a lot of it I can tell you! What she must have thought of me! She frowned a lot—perhaps she was jealous.”

“And did you ever?”

“No, alas I never saw them again. I would so liked to have been fucked by them—the two together, yes, them and me in bed for a whole weekend! Such a handful! You must, though, Hannah at your age try sex with several—yes with more than one boy at a time—it is wonderful. All that hardness to play with—all that cum if you like that. Do you?”

“I...”

“Sir Henry bought me a ridiculous book—‘Natural Harvest’—I shall show it to you. It is about cooking with, how shall I put it, cum.”

“No!”

“Though the man made oysters – yes, that is all there is in the shells, well, perhaps with a little lemon and pepper—are hardly cooked! Not at all. There are other recipes though. It is funny and erotic all at the same time.”

Hannah did not know what to say. That could not be so.

“Harvesting would be fun I think. We might get sore wrists!”

Hannah had to laugh.

And all the time Hannah was going up and down on Sir Hugh. Such a lovely feeling but so strange to be talking and fucking—still stranger to be talking with two people and one, indeed. the wife of the person she was copulating with!

Sir Hugh certainly had staying power. The day before he had described it to her as a problem of age but to Hannah it was anything but a problem. A cock she could ride for a long time without it suddenly coming and going limp on her—lovely!

“Do you want to change position like...” Should she mention yesterday when Sir Hugh had taken her from behind? It was still difficult to mention such things with Lady Lyanthe present.

“Hugh I do think it really is time for you to release. The poor girl is getting tired.”

It was not actually what she meant.

“Of course, my love.”

Hands on her breasts, a pushing against her and then she felt it and in her mind’s eye could see it: the cock suddenly spurting semen just like the man on the riverbank—the hot liquid within her. Pulse after pulse. It had taken Sir Hugh a long time to come but he was coming very well indeed. Hannah did her best, bouncing as fast as she could to really milk the pleasure from Sir Hugh.

Breathing heavily, her skin awash with perspiration in the heat of the sauna Hannah came to a stop. Her vigorous riding done. She turned and smiled at Lady Lyanthe, feeling herself almost on fire with the sex. It was lovely, it had been lovely. Only she had not quite...

“But you haven’t come my dear.”

“Well nearly....Oh!”

It was unexpected, so unexpected. Astride and facing away from Sir Hugh, her sex was so open and so exposed and within it there was the still inserted, still hard, penis. Hannah was open and vulnerable and Lady Lyanthe had simply crouched down on the wooden slatted floor and, almost before Hannah realised what was happening, was lapping—using her tongue right on Hannah’s sex ranging from the embedded penis to her clit. It was unexpected but so sexual, such a lovely soft rasping on her exposed and erect clit. Held by Sir Hugh, Hannah was soon coming, there was no stopping it. There was the strong feel of Sir Hugh’s hands manipulating her breasts, the still present feeling of a cock in her vagina and the strong wet stimulation of a tongue on her clit. No, there was no stopping the climax!

“Oh, I, Oh....”

What could Hannah do? She had not expected this help, this feminine help from Lady Lyanthe. All she could do was accept and come—and come she did! Pushing herself against the now shrinking penis and the probing tongue. As she came, Lady Lyanthe stuck to her task sucking on her little clit as the electric waves of orgasm came and came.

Coming down from Cloud 9, Hannah could still feel Lady Lyanthe at her sex. Her eyes opened wide in surprise. Lady Lyanthe’s tongue was in, not at, but in her vagina. Another woman had her tongue in her vagina! Pushing in alongside Sir Hugh’s still present but now thinner cock.

Lady Lyanthe rose. “Look, my dear, what I have found!”

On the tip of her tongue—undoubted semen, creamy and fresh from Sir Hugh—fresh, what was more, from Hannah’s own vagina.

Lady Lyanthe was close; without really thinking Hannah put out her tongue and they touched tongue to tongue and then they kissed; tongues in each other’s mouth and the semen shared. Hannah had not tasted Sir Hugh before. It was so salty on her tongue.

She had not kissed a woman like that before either. She was doing things she had not expected to do that day. Hannah knew it was Sir Hugh’s doing; knew she had fallen under a spell in that workman’s hut; she knew this for certain but liked it; her tongue played with its sister.

“Well,” said Lady Lyanthe, “time for tea, I should think.” So ordinary and matter of fact after the copulation.

“But you haven’t—you haven’t...”

“My dear, you should know. Orgasm is not every time and Sir Hugh looks rather incapable at the moment. Not really ‘up’ to it!”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Unless, of course, you would like to...”

It was left unsaid. Hannah had not meant anything of the sort but it must have seemed very like an offer to Lady Lyanthe. It must have given very much that appearance. It was rather difficult to back out once the statement had been made. Not least considering what Lady Lyanthe had just done to her!

“Perhaps my bedroom. I am beginning to find it a little hot in here.”

It was unbelievable. Hannah was being led by the hand, being led by a naked Lady Lyanthe up through the house to Sir Hugh and Lady Lyanthe’s bedroom, to where she was going to be expected to ‘go down’—engage in lesbian sex—on Lady Lyanthe. It could hardly be anything else.

The bedroom door closed behind them and another kiss. Breast to breast. Hannah could feel the hardness of Lady Lyanthe’s nipple pushing at her own. A nipple catching against another nipple, a sensual caress. Not quite believable to Hannah—was she really doing this? Lady Lyanthe not quite falling back on the bed but taking Hannah with her so she was lying upon her.

Hannah was lying skin to skin atop another women face to face, breast to breast, tummy to tummy, sex to sex as if she was the man atop a woman readying himself for intercourse. Their mounds together and then Lady Lyanthe’s legs were up around her, ankles locked around Hannah’s back; their curly hair intermingled; and then they began to move, rubbing against each other. Missionary sex without the penis. So strange to be like that with a women; their bodies so slippery from the perspiration of the sauna; Lady Lyanthe’s tongue in her mouth.

And then the rotation. Hannah finding her head between Lady Lyanthe’s thighs, Lady Lyanthe’s wet sex before her and Hannah just doing what she so liked the boys to do to her. It was not something she had to learn—she knew exactly what to do. And as her tongue probed so did Lady Lyanthe’s – back where it had been before.

The sex was passionate, the tonguing enthusiastic – the outcome orgasmic.

Hannah rose, her face flushed and awash with Lady Lyanthe’s copious lubrication. Lady Lyanthe drew her towards her on the bed and they kissed.

“Very nice my dear, I did so enjoy that. Did you?”

And Hannah could but say the truth—she had indeed.

“Perhaps that cup of tea now? Shall we shower first?”

Dressed again in her little grey dress, afternoon tea just seemed so ordinary after the events of the afternoon. It was really nice: lovely with scones, jam and cream and everything but just so ‘normal’ with everyone dressed again. The conversation was just so what you might expect over tea: interesting certainly but not a hint of the erotic, no detailed exposition by Sir Hugh on some theme—the eroticism of the teapot or the like. Hannah could just imagine Sir Hugh being able to talk on just that topic and explain how the spout represented the penis and the filling of teapot was...

“Hannah, my dear, would you mind if Hugh copulated with you again before you go? He might be less of a nuisance when it is bed time. I am sure he would like to take you in that pretty dress. Shall I hold your panties?”

Hannah’s thought was broken. She had been thinking of sex again, just at the moment the subject was broached once more by her hosts. Certainly she was not averse to the idea: there was something about being with Sir Hugh which just made her feel—what was the word—yes, lascivious.

So unreal again. Standing in the marble floored hallway in her grey dress and slipping her panties down as her hosts watched and then handing them to Lady Lyanthe.

“Perhaps if you hopped up on this table.”

Hannah did as she was told. The table almost suspiciously at the right height for the task, a beautiful table with concave sides to its beautifully polished top—Walnut perhaps—adding further convenience to the act.

“Open your pretty legs—there’s a good girl.”

Lady Lyanthe’s fingers at Sir Hugh’s fly extracting the organ and bringing it into the open and working it to erection. Sir Hugh in his tweeds but with his not unimpressive erection sticking out of his trousers. Just so unreal to see—a respectable married couple immaculately dressed yet with the woman holding the man’s erection in one hand and Hannah’s panties in the other and all out in the open in the beautiful hall of this country house—and there she was, Hannah Hutchings sitting on a table in her little grey dress, thighs apart and with the material pulled up so far that almost certainly Sir Hugh could see her panty less sex.

And it was Lady Lyanthe who guided the connection, brought her husband over to Hannah, ensured the knob entered and then carefully unbuttoned the dress and lifted Hannah’s breasts out just lightly brushing the nipples to ensure they were standing and, in effect, handing them to her husband. And there she was once more with Sir Hugh, Hannah’s third copulation with the man in less than two days. A man she had not known until the day before.

It was not a difficult entry at all, not with what had been happening that afternoon. Sir Hugh’s knob had touched Hannah’s soft moist flesh and been pushed in by Lady Lyanthe before Sir Hugh had taken over and slid fully home. There Hannah was, her bottom resting on the polished wood, her thighs spread for a man and with the coarse feel of the tweed against them: but anything but a coarse feel where it mattered. Hannah was once more delightfully speared.

Hannah could not help wondering who else had been taken on that very table. Had young serving girls been regularly worked by the young or not so young master of the house in days gone by? Who had Sir Hugh himself taken there—perhaps a young Lady Lyanthe newly returned from honeymoon, a rather different carrying over the threshold from the conventional and had a deferential butler stood by holding Lady Lyanthe’s panties as Lady Lyanthe held hers?

So nice to feel the regular strokes of a firm and sizeable erection within her: the feel in her vagina, the pull on her clit and Sir Hugh’s fingers to her breasts. Slightly disconcerting to realise Lady Lyanthe could hear the wet sounds of intercourse but it was not as if she was unaware of what was happening. She was not exactly hearing the sounds of illicit intercourse taking place in the next room!

“Do make sure you come before Hugh, dear Hannah.”

“Yes, Lady Lyanthe, of course.”

Hannah did not want to disappoint her hostess and closed her eyes to concentrate on the feelings. And they were certainly very nice feelings!

“Are you close?”

“Yes, Lady Lyanthe.”

“Be vocal—be loud.”

Hannah did not like to disappoint or be other than obedient. She was a guest. Normally she would have stifled her groans but she let herself go. It was strange to hear the echoes of her own gasps in the hall and, as the orgasm came, her screams echoing. That seemed to set Sir Hugh off and as the feeling of orgasm subsided he began thrusting against her with force making her bottom slide on the polished table top as he emptied himself once more into her.

It was time to go home. As Hannah sat there on the table, with Sir Hugh still embedded, the sun came out sending shafts of bright sunlight into the hall.

“It looks like it will be fine for your bicycle ride home. No need for the cagoule, my dear. You must come again. It has been a delightful afternoon. Has it not, Lyanthe?”

Such ordinary pleasantries yet as he spoke Sir Hugh stepped backwards breaking the connection with Hannah.

Lady Lyanthe stepped forward and lightly kissed Hannah on the cheek, “Yes indeed. You must come for dinner. We have such fun parties, such interesting people.”

Sir Hugh put out his hand and helped Hannah alight from the table, the light grey material of her dress dropping easily to cover her thighs. Hannah buttoned her dress putting away her breasts and restoring an appearance of decorum—if the flush to her cheeks could be ignored. Sir Hugh opened the door and they stepped out into the sunshine. A chaste kiss from Sir Hugh, and Hannah picked up her bike and, waving, stepped over it and pushed off, her bottom rising and planting itself on the saddle.

She turned and waved again and there were Sir Hugh and Lady Lyanthe waving with, incongruously, Sir Hugh’s flaccid penis still hanging out of his fly.

Down the gravelled drive she rode, the clouds still present above her but becoming white as more blue sky appeared. The late afternoon was going to be glorious.

“Bother!” Hannah had forgotten her panties. She had left them behind. But it seemed stupid to go back and, actually, it was rather nice riding free; the air cooling her recent excitement; pleasant to feel the air on her sex..

Near the gate the thin summer cotton of her dress blew up which made Hannah giggle. She would have to be more careful on the road on the way home!

Hannah did not see the watching gardener. He smiled to himself, noting the sudden intimate glimpse. Not unnaturally he thought it would have been a pleasant thing to have fertilised such a well tilled patch that very afternoon, indeed planted his seeds there whilst the weather had made sowing difficult in the garden. He suspected Sir Hugh might well have been playing the gentleman gardener that afternoon and it would have been very pleasant to have assisted his master and done some of the hard work himself.

The gardener liked to see a lawn close mown and he liked his women the same—their private hair close shaved. He was more than happy to mow their lawns and he was careful to keep his blades sharp.

Back up the driveway, through the entrance pillars and up the road to home rode Hannah in her little grey dress but there were no panties beneath. No thin cotton separating her from the saddle. Her sex was, this time, well and truly planted on the leather of the bicycle seat, a sex that had been rather well used that afternoon, a sex feeling pleasantly warm and not a little sticky from all the activity. A nice feeling for a young girl to have been so recently engaged in the pleasant act of copulation and to feel what the man had left behind for her. The bicycle seat would notice the difference. Sir Hugh had indeed remarked, as she had got on and smoothed the dress around her, about the peculiar intimacy a leather saddle had with a girl rider. Hannah laughed as she turned at the corner, the leather intimate with her sex, Sir Hugh really did have a way with him.