Venus in the Country

Chapter twelve

Lady Patricia Hemingforth De Lancey and her brother Harry were twins, and quite the handsomest pair in the country, it was often said. Both had enjoyed scores of the prettiest girls in Hertfordshire-and if not exactly between them, at least in full liaison with one another.

The twins were twenty-five, and neither saw any immediate merit in getting married since they already enjoyed all the boudoir pleasures thereof without any of its strife. Lady Adelaide, their Mama, knew not a bad word said against them, for such gossip as was put about was kept from her ears and it was she who had endowed the pair with a pretty cottage in the grounds of her manor where, as she innocently put it, they could meet their friends “without the presence of their bothersome Mama.”

Thus it was that Patricia and Harry entertained quite freely, though it was often enough remarked by the servants that females rather than males were the principal visitors to the cottage, as indeed they were. Such maidens ever being accompanied by maidservants, who were supposed to act as their moral protectors, quickly found themselves separated from their chaperones once the interior of the cottage had received them.

Therein, the servant would be plied with whatever took her fancy in the way of gin or beer or other bibulous liquids and would soon care not a jot in the world what her young mistress was doing. Indeed, were she herself pretty or endowed with sufficient charms, she would soon enough find herself falling prey to the lecherous young Harry, whose cock was wont to do more work in a month than others do in three or six.

Hence, when the next hunting party of Lady Bromley's took place, the twins saw to it that they were invited. Indeed, Belinda could do no other than extend their invitations to them for such were the artful pair's influence and wealth that no social gathering was complete without them. Additionally, the Lady Patricia was wont to cleverly supply the occasional slightly-used maiden to her hostess from time to time, and so the pair had what might be called a perfect understanding.

It was therefore no surprise when the heavenly twins appeared on the morning of the hunt that Patricia should cast her eyes immediately upon Pamela. Lady Bromley, having been careful to put it about that the girl was in truth her ward, there were no social apprehensions at the pretty young girl's appearance in riding garb. Patricia and Harry were soon at her side.

To say that this vexed Lady Bromley is rather to state the obvious, for as we have learned she had intended this day that Pamela should be more thoroughly debauched, thereafter to act on her behalf rather than that of her husband. Such a silent battle of wits frequently took place between Belinda and her husband, and the pair thoroughly appreciated any victories they gained over one another.

At this moment, though Belinda knew it not, her husband was uppermost, having enjoyed the nubile charms of Helen, as he was minded to do soon enough again. This day afforded him an excellent opportunity, in fact, for neither Helen nor Miranda were permitted to go on the hunt and-pleading some indisposition-he in turn stayed within. Not being over-displeased with this, Belinda saw her chance to enjoy the day as she would, particularly since Captain Dancer was of her company.

Thus, upon the sounding of the horn and following a hearty breakfast of which all had partaken, the hunt set forth. 'Twas a beautiful morn, and Pamela was in highest spirits as her mount jogged along between those of Patricia and her brother, who quite entertained with their wit and pleasantries. Their own private cottage lay not three miles away and neither intended to remain distant from it too long now that they had a new houri for their harem. Having not distanced themselves a mile, and taking all care to let the other riders precede them, Patricia reined in her steed with a cry.

“Oh, my head is upon me!” she declared.

“She is given to the vapours, I fear,” Harry explained to a bewildered Pamela, while his sister rocked her pretty head theatrically in her hands.

With seeming concern, Harry rode around Pamela and took the reins of his sister's steed.

“We must get her to bed. Nothing but a darkened room will cure her,” he said with solemn mien, whilst dear Pamela made haste to comfort the young aristocrat.

“Dear girl, I fear I shall quite spoil your day,” declared Patricia to her companion whilst her brother rode ahead of them leading her horse.

“Oh, no,” responded Pamela, who was mindful not to call her “Miss” upon the instructions of Lady Bromley. “You must tell me whatever I may do for you,” she added solicitously.

“Our cottage is nearer than the manor-I feel I might go there and rest awhile. Will you stay with me but a little while, and then Harry shall help you rejoin the hunt,” came the artful response.

Thus was the butterfly led into the web, and soon enough the young Lady Patricia was ensconced in her boudoir where, with Pamela's help, she disrobed. Harry remained discreetly distant in the little drawing room, for it needs must be explained that despite all their sly and lascivious games, each of the pair kept their amours separate. Whilst this entailed at least an hour of boredom and waiting for Harry, it benefited him much in the end. Flushed and roseate, her body all of a quiver from the Sapphic embraces of his sister the victim would then pass into his arms all ready for the further sacrifice to Priapus. Indeed, more than merely ready, for Patricia was no less than a devotee of her art, and her agile tongue tuned the nubile maidens as finely as a craftsman tunes a violin.

This Pamela was soon enough to learn. With the curtains firmly drawn in as delicately furnished a boudoir as she had ever seen, she was rapidly induced to make a pair in bed under pretext of soothing Patricia's brow.

“Ah, you are making me feel better already,” declared the latter. “Pray make yourself comfortable in turn, my dear, and cast off your cumbersome attire. We shall then be far more comfortable.”

These words impinged sweetly enough on Pamela's ears for, being a sensible girl and one given to slightly artful behaviour herself, she divined not a little that the Lady Patricia intended to make her feel much better herself. Having no objection to this, and finding her new companion as sweet and perfect of form as. herself, Pamela was not loath to present herself in turn in a state of Nature, and thus their warm bodies soon lay fondly together.

In but a moment Patricia had kissed her rosebud lips and passed a fervent hand over the snow-white crests of her bubbies, which felt delightfully resilient to the touch.

“How quickly your nipples come up-may I suck them?” Patricia asked, since she sensed neither resistance nor overmuch shyness on her companion's part.

“Oh, yes,” Pamela assented eagerly. She was about to be inducted, although she knew it not, into the highest realms of lovemaking. Ere two minutes had passed, and with the quivering buds of her nipples already erect by Patricia's craftily sucking mouth, her lively thighs were parted well to receive the labial attentions that were fondly pressed upon and around her cunny.

Gasping and wriggling, Pamela received the snakelike length of as fervent and skilful a tongue as doubled any raptures she had previously received in this wise. True, she had taught both Helen and Miranda to do it to her a little, but neither had obtained the art of Patricia who-in a trice-had both the girl's legs upon her shoulders and was bringing her rapidly to a point of careless bliss.

“What a delicious slit!” Patricia murmured, turning herself quickly then about so that her own fond nest presented itself over Pamela's face.

Quite eager to taste the honeyed treasure, Pamela reached up boldly, caressing as well as she could the ardent hemispheres of Patricia's bottom and drawing her cunny down upon her mouth. Sneezing a trifle as a mass of curls tickled her nose, her tongue was soon twirling in turn until naught but the most blissful liquid sounds reigned in the boudoir and each brought the other in turn to heavenly surrender of her spurting treasures.

“What a treasure you are, to be sure,” declared the Lady Patricia at long last after each had frequently tasted the other's salty libation. “Do you then like girls as much as I?”

“Oh, I believe so, though none has pleasured me as you,” replied Pamela, whose mouth was still avid to receive the fiery flickerings of her companion's tongue. “I like being injected, too,” she added naively enough while Patricia's lips made paths of pleasure all over and around her curves.

“Injected? Oh, you mean by the cock,” Patricia replied frankly, delighted to discover that they had such an advanced protegee. “Yes, my pet, it is well said that cock should follow tongue, but I would bid you tongue me a little more first. Do you know how to do feuille de rose?”

Sadly Pamela was forced to unveil her ignorance of such a sport, whereat, with a silvery laugh, her adorable bedmate turned about and presented herself on all fours.

“Part the cheeks of my bottom and present just the tip of your tongue there. Meanwhile, then, pass your left hand beneath my cunny and tickle my spot as surely as your tongue shall tickle me elsewhere.”

So spoke Patricia, who found this the most exciting of activities and one to which not all her captive girls were prone to indulge, or did so with such awkwardness and naive fondling that her pleasure was often quite spoilt. In Pamela she had, however, a truly dedicated pupil who was so intent on pleasing in this manner that she drew the ardent Patricia to the end of the bed, whereby then she could, by placing her own feet on the floor, more readily attend to this form of lubricious caressing.

True, it was quite new to her, but no sooner had the curled point of her tongue found the wrinkled orifice and even inserted itself a trifle within than a fond murmur of pleasure escaped the owner of the altar of love to which she was attending.

“Your finger, my sweet!” implored Patricia, who had parted her lovely thighs wide and now received the desired digit, teasing and maddening her clitoris so that Pamela was hard put to keep her tongue darting within and without the perfumed bottom. Nevertheless she succeeded by gripping Patricia's thighs from the front with her right hand and was soon drawing delirious moans from her victim.

“Oh! how I… I… lovely! Flick your tongue faster!” appealed Patricia, whose senses were quite swimming under the dual ardent caress. Panting not a little, and with the orbs of her divine breasts swinging as she knelt, she was not long in releasing from her cunny a further salty spray so prolonged that she collapsed and lay quite still, all pale of visage and with her eyes rolling heavenward. Indeed, Pamela thought her at first to have fainted and was heartily relieved when, falling again beside her, she felt herself clasped in two adoring arms.

“My treasure of desire!” Patricia murmured huskily, “how sad I shall be to lose you!”

“You need not,” replied Pamela, who was all aglow not only with her success, but with her learning of a pretty little trick that she vowed Helen must learn to do to her.

Patricia kissed her anew. “Poor Harry, I had quite forgotten about him in our transports. Will you not see how he is?” she asked and thereupon drew from beneath a pillow a gauzy robe which she bid Pamela put on.

“May we not call him in-after you are covered, of course,” Pamela said, for while a little uncertain still, she was half of a mind that the pair were in some consort together.

“How immodest!” simpered Patricia, making not the least effort to cover herself. “No, my pet, it will take but a moment to see to his comfort, and then you must return, for I would hear all about it.”

Not doubting now for a moment that she was now expected to receive Harry's cock and to recount the event, Pamela assented as shyly as she felt able to. In her newfound philosophy, she saw no reason at all why both should not partake of his doughty tool and could not begin to believe that Patricia herself did not receive it regularly. In truth, however, it was a very curious state of affairs, for wedded as she was to the Sapphic pleasures, Patricia had never indulged herself in amourous combat with Harry. Only once had she permitted him to unveil her lower charms and to visit her dell with his tongue, but that had been in a spirit of experiment, for Patricia had quickly found that his raptures at tasting her fount turned to a desire to insert his prick therein. Not being so minded, she had spurned him, awarding but a single sisterly kiss to his fiercely wagging tool. Thus, most curiously, Patricia remained a virgin and would have been so perhaps to this day had it not been for the artful wiles of Pamela.

Proud maiden as she was, and being given rather to arranging matters than to finding herself the victim of them, she intended not to become the plaything of either. Hence, rubbing her eyes as she descended and so giving all appearance of having cried, she cast herself with open robe into the drawing room, where Harry awaited her coming with great expectancy.

That he was not disappointed at the immediate view of her uncovered charms was evidenced by the eager glow in his eyes and the uncovered arrogance of his cock, for he had divested himself of all clothing in readiness for the event.

“Oh, sir!” cried Pamela upon seeing it, for it was of a fair size and well deserved her exclamation. Casting herself without ado in his arms, she allowed the manly rod to thrum merrily against her belly while clutching its root decisively.

“Come! upon the couch with you, my little bird. It is surely time you were given the manly tribute,” declared Harry, who was all in raptures at the exquisite curves presented to his form.

There and then he would have lifted her and carried her upon the waiting altar of plush velvet which was reserved for such sacrifices and where many a young girl's bottom had waggled ardently, but he knew not in what crafty guise he was being led on.

“Oh, sir, not I!” protested Pamela, who began thereupon to sob and clutch at his neck in such wise that he could not bend to lift her. “Pray listen, for you see my tears, though you know not the reason for them. 'Tis Patricia.”

“Patricia!” echoed the slightly crestfallen hero, who by then would have had his steaming shaft well embedded in her. “Is she unwell still?”

“In more senses than one, Harry, for I left her bereft. Do you not know it is this wicked cock of yours that she most desires?”

So saying, Pamela ran her fingers skilfully down the straining shaft, while keeping one arm tightly strung about his neck. Seeking the root of his cock, she sought his balls and dandled them.

“D… d… desires?” stuttered Harry, whose world was turned all about. Not a maiden before this had not gone under him in a trice, hot as she had proven from his sister's bed.

“Truly, and I would durst not confess it to you had she not done so to me. I had but my tongue at her bottom when she cried out that it was something larger she desired. Oh, how her poor heart broke to confess it to me-and, Harry, I swear to you I am the first to have the secret from her heart. She would be taken by force, she declares, for there is no other way to bring her to true pleasure.”

“The deuce of it-by force!” replied the stricken Harry, who was torn between forcing Pamela upon the waiting couch or attending upon Patricia, whose refusal of his ever eager weapon had never ceased to confound him.

“By force it must be-or apparently so-for she will never otherwise surrender and so lives in great frustration. Why else would she entertain the all too delicate tongues of girls such as I so frequently, were she not burning for the dominating cock?” asked Pamela, whose tongue was quite in danger of running away with her.

“Ah, Pamela, let me have you first!” demanded the ardent swain, whose fingers took full delight in raising her flimsy robe and exploring everywhere her nubile treasures.

“Could it but be-this very instant,” murmured Pamela, casting upon his eyes the hottest of her gazes, “but then you wouldst need tarry awhile before you were ready for her-and I fear now that were she, in her present state, to know that I were entertaining you, all would be upset.”

“Indeed, yes,” answered Harry, who saw well enough that their cottage might then no longer be such a haven of lust as both had been wont to enjoy. Moreover, he had many a time been minded to join the Sapphic revels and turn them to his own advantage, and had suffered much frustration from being forever barred from Patricia's boudoir while many heavenly moans and cries sounded from within.

“Make haste, then-remember she may cry and struggle, for she told me that she would, but yet has a longing for it greater than you can imagine. Grip her tightly and enter quickly. Her pretended resistance will soon then cease. Her bottom is truly well moistened for the fray,” enjoined the artful Miss, whose urgings could no longer be overcome. “Make quiet upon the stairs-I shall follow,” Pamela hissed.

“Indeed! What a treasure you are! What a day we shall have of it!” chortled Harry, who could scarce believe his luck, so long had he yearned for such a moment when his cock might entertain two at once. Thereupon, with Pamela three steps behind him, he ascended with all quietness, knowing well enough which stair creaked and which did not. Expecting Pamela to follow him completely, he entered the perfumed boudoir whose air was by then redolent with female scents of desire.

Patricia lay upon her belly musing at the fortunes of the morning and squeezing her bottom cheeks occasionally in fonder membrance of Pamela's tongue-a movement of some voluptuous invitation which Harry took to be the perfect assent to all he had heard. Not infrequently a maiden struggled briefly in his arms, and he was well accustomed to containing them until his quietening shaft was well buried.

Mindful of Pamela's injunctions, he cast himself like a bolt of lightning upon his sister's recumbent form, his lusty loins meeting the luring curve of her bottom with a loud smacking noise that was accompanied also by a shriek from Patricia. Instinctively she endeavoured to rise and cast him off, though the very movement served his purpose well. Thrusting her pretty face well down into the pillow, Harry maneuvered his glowing knob without ado between the adorable cheeks of her ripe bottom and eased it blissfully within the puckered rim where Pamela's saliva still lingered.

“Harry, no! Oh, you monster, you vagabond! Take it out! How dare you! Aaaah! Oh, no! No, you must not-I forbid it. Harry! I f…f…f… OOOOOH! Oh, it is too big! No!”

Such eyes as espied them through the doorway glowed. Pamela could not indeed desist from coyly fingering her cunny as the doughty rod passed slowly between the arrogant cheeks of Patricia's bottom while her hips were now clasped as if by iron bands in her brother's grip.

“M… M… M… Mama!” Patricia shrieked, quite beside herself at the wicked invasion. “Oh! I shall tell, Mama! Harry-stop!”

His throbbing tool now three-quarters ensconced in her warm, sleek bottom hole, Harry screwed up his eyes with bliss, though he could not help but let a chuckle escape him at the thought of Patricia's confessing all their lewd deeds. The fact that she dared not merely impelled his lusting vigour so that with a final grunting movement, he rammed the whole of his flaming charger within his sister's bottom and so contained her struggles to perfection. Thereupon, after a moment of stillness broken only by Patricia's helpless cries, he sensed some tiny assenting movement of the rapturous sphere of her bottom which was pressed so tightly into his belly.

“My love, my desire!” he murmured fondly and bending full over her commenced to fondle and weigh her dangling tits, finding her nipples so full hard that he was no longer in doubt about her secret enjoyment of the unwonted bout.

For her part, Patricia succumbed to her fate more readily than she would have believed. The titillations of Pamela's tongue had merely served to prepare the dish for the oven, so to speak, and the long, thick throbbing of Harry's fine prick in her bottom stirred her lascivious temperament. Even so, burying her blushing face in her pillow, she murmured in disguise of her rising excitement that it was a most wicked thing to do to her.

“Such it is, my pet, and the greater enjoyment we shall thus have of it. Come, make no pretence, for I intend to cork you properly,” rejoiced Harry, who in the passion of the moment had quite forgotten Pamela. That maiden, however, had not forgotten herself and was half-minded to join in their transports. Yet she sensed that to make herself an open accomplice left her less an ally than a victim and so-tiptoeing about whilst the passionate bout commenced in earnest-she quickly recovered her clothes and fled downstairs with them, not forgetting to lock the door upon the pair as she did.

“Oh, H… H… Harry!” came a moan through the door as she did, though whether it was in lamentation at her departure or was merely to celebrate in sound the lascivious pleasure that Patricia was by then clearly enjoying, Pamela neither knew nor cared. They would have a fine time of it to get out of the room in any event, she pondered with some pleasure.

Thus the artful maiden rode back to the manor, discussing with herself as she did the ease with which such events could be toned about, provided that all partners were sufficiently randy to take such opportunities as accosted them. Being of a kindly nature always, she knew well enough that Patricia would but benefit from the affair and no doubt would have her delectable cunny breached also ere the day were out. Thereafter, Pamela told herself with some satisfaction, Harry would be able to let himself down from the window by sheets and so release them both.

As to Lady Bromley, all would have to find some means to explain their absence; but since she herself could ever put an innocent face upon it, so could Patricia and Harry.

Meanwhile, she must find out what Helen and Miranda had been about.