Venus in the Country

Chapter eight

Pamela arrived shortly at the vicarage, which stood isolated and sombre in its own grounds.

“Shall I wait for you, Miss?” the driver asked.

Pamela's heart softened at the thought that the poor man might be kept waiting an hour, for she was sure to be offered tea, at least.

“As you will, Jack, but I may be some time.”

“Very well, then, my old mother lives not far from here. With your permission, Miss, I'll pay her a brief visit and return. You'll find me waiting here as you want me.”

Entering through the gate and walking up the path took Pamela but a minute. She had rehearsed her little speech and felt it would sound very convincing. Hence when the door opened she introduced herself with a charming smile to Carrie, who stared at her in some surprise and ushered her in.

“It's a young lady named Pamela, Miss Agnes.”

“Why, yes, of course, we did not expect you yet. Pray sit down and have a glass of wine. My brother will be down in a minute. How pleased he will be to see you! Now, as to the purpose of your visit, we know well. There are merely a few details to be covered. No, my dear, you need not speak, for I well know the embarrassments of a young girl in a situation such as yours.”

“Oh, yes-well, that is very kind,” responded Pamela who was quite taken aback that news should somehow have come on ahead of her. Even so, it was nice to know that they were not put out and rose with a warm smile to greet the Vicar as he entered.

“My dear-a sincere pleasure,” he boomed, for ever since his recent orgiastic adventures, Edmund felt that he had quite come out into the world and was ready for anything. Certainly, he considered privately, he was ready for this adorable creature who was simply one of the prettiest and shapeliest girls he had ever seen.

“What a surprise that we have not seen her in the parish before, Edmund. Is she not a lovely creature!”

“Oh, but I have not been here long,” replied Pamela, whose glass was already being refilled.

“That we now understand, my dear, and so our customs and rites will also be unfamiliar to you.”

“Ah, yes, those,” Pamela answered somewhat vaguely, for she was not at all sure where the conversation was leading and she had not had time to utter her prepared piece. “But what I came about-” she began to say before Agnes rose and interrupted her.

“Come, you have no need to say it. Does it now embarrass a girl as young as you? I feel sure it must. Is it not better to express yourself in action rather than words?” said Agnes, who took her hand and drew her up.

“Oh, always, yes,” Pamela replied all too innocently. For a moment she thought that she was being led out since she found herself being conducted back into the hall, with the Vicar in close attendance behind her. Instead, however, she was turned gently at the foot of the stairs and led upward.

Thinking, perhaps that there was another and larger drawing room on the first floor, as there was at the manor, Pamela ascended with her hand continuing to be held warmly by Agnes, who looked forward as much as her brother to the lifting of the girl's skirts. Rather bewildered, therefore, Pamela found herself ensconced in the best bedroom while Edmund closed the door.

“Have you someone waiting for you?” he asked cautiously, rather than out of politesse.

“The coachman, yes.”

Agnes and he raised their eyebrows. They knew of no folk in the neighbourhood who had newly arrived and could afford a coach. But perhaps a rich uncle had hired it for the occasion, Edmund told himself. The girl looked slightly astonished already at being led up to a bedroom, but that was to be expected. She sat demurely enough with her hands in her lap and an expression of quiet waiting on her face. It was just what he wanted.

Acting exactly as they had rehearsed, Agnes sat down on the edge of the bed beside Pamela and placed an arm about her waist.

“First there is one little duty you have to perform, Pamela, and that is to kiss the sceptre.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Pamela softly who for a moment thought she could not espy one anywhere and then realised that she could (though it was not of the nature she had expected), as Edmund stepped before her and swiftly unbuttoned his trousers.

“Oh, my goodness, it is so big!” Pamela said, quite certain now that this was the price she had to pay for the news she had intended to bring but which had somehow been divulged to them already.

“That it is of such a size, my dear, is in part due to your beauty,” Edmund announced gallantly as his big cock waggled lewdly under her very nose.

“Part your lips now, for you must give it the nicest of kisses, mustn't you?” Agnes said, wherewith she laid her hand gently on the back of Pamela's neck and inclined her head forward. The knob was so large that Pamela feared for a moment that her mouth would not engulf it, but just as her pussy had already opened to others, so now did her lips. Their enfolding warmth and moisture caused Edmund to emit a groan and push it in a little. He had expected the wench to struggle a trifle- indeed, he suspected that Agnes had hoped that she would-but instead Pamela instinctively began to make little sucking motions which caused his knees to quiver and quite enraptured Agnes.

“Enough, Pamela,” Agnes murmured after a moment. “You must now let me prepare you otherwise, so that you might better sustain the assault when you are put to it in bed with your lord and master.”

Thinking that Agnes was referring to Sir Richard, Pamela's mind was all a-spin. They seemed to know so much, yet she could swear that no one would have told them anything-and certainly not the knight of the manor. Perhaps it was witchcraft, though she did not really believe in such a thing-entertaining, as she did, only the healthiest of thoughts. Nevertheless, she decided to play safe and allowed herself to be turned about so that she lay on her belly while Agnes duly folded up her skirt.

Such legs and bottom as were then displayed brought a murmur of admiration from both her lewd hosts, who insisted upon raining the most exciting of kisses upon her offered curves. Pamela bucked her hips agreeably, for not only their lips but their tongues were everywhere and-had she but known it-frequently moved alongside one another in tasting her bared nether cheeks, her groove, and the slit of her pussy beneath until she was quite all of a dither.

Panting softly, she remained with her bottom raised on the very edge of the bed while Edmund quickly disrobed. Of a purpose he had left all undergarments off and so his muscular form was quickly presented in Adam-like state.

Lying upon her back immediately, alongside Pamela, Agnes threw one arm over the girl's back, as if to warn her not to rise and then drew up her own skirt, displaying her dazzling plump white thighs above her black stockings.

“Now, Pamela, you must prepare to receive the sceptre in your grotto, for there it must inject its essence and so anoint the ground,” whispered the hypocritical dame, who wished rather that she were in Pamela's place at that moment.

“Yes,” assented Pamela quietly. She eased her legs apart, poised herself on her heels, and waited. Hands gripped her hips, a bulbous crest asserted itself at her bottom cheeks, and for a moment Pamela thought she was to be injected in that wise. So indeed did Agnes, who shook her head warningly. It would not do for them to first receive his prick in that way. Later, perhaps they could persuade her to stay, but otherwise she must be eased into it.

Edmund indeed had had the momentary intention of breaching those delightfully chubby cheeks, though he feared it would take overlong to invade them to the full. Instead, therefore, he lowered his manly tool and probed the lovelips which, unknown to him, waited impatiently for attention. Expecting Pamela to scream, he bent farther forward and clamped a rude hand about her mouth, but only a muted whimper escaped her as the stout peg began to be inserted.

“Ah! by all the blessed saints, she is tight!”

Finding that her mouth had not opened to scream, Edmund released his hand and used it rather to tickle and tease his sister's plump mount. Her dazzling eyes gazed up at him with adoration as he did so, for to her eyes he looked the very epitome of manly vigour with his virile weapon already half within the lovepurse whose moisture was already lubricating its passage.

Working her hips in the lubricious excitement of the moment and finding the sweet vision of Pamela's raised bottom distinctly appealing, Agnes whispered in her ear, “Is it nice?”

“Oh, yes, it is quite delicious-what a magnificent sceptre-oh, push it in more!”

Thoroughly delighted at this docile reception, Edmund obeyed. The interior of her vagina was soft, velvety, and clinging. In fact, it gripped him almost demandingly as did Agnes's bottom, and it took a singular effort for him to sink it deep within. Therewith, with Pamela's warm, firm bottom cheeks bulging into his belly, all was pure delight. Casting one stockinged leg over Pamela's back, Agnes puffed and panted her pleasure in turn.

“Ah, my love, had you but two, you could enjoy us both!”

“Indeed, my pet, then I would be in very heaven! Ah, how her bottom smacks against me. Truly, she is devout in her motions. What a luscious little cunt she has!”

“Oh, sir, is that where your sceptre is?” cried Pamela, pretending at last to some innocence which she felt it best to regain.

“Indeed, my pet, and it is in you to my balls. What delightful squeezings! You have been worked before, I vow!”

“Oh, sir, only by my uncle, for he thought best to prepare me for it,” Pamela panted mischievously. Her cunny fully open now, she worked back and forth on the Vicar's tool in hearty response to his thrusts.

“Little witch, I thought you game for it. Let us fuck heartily then, for is that not the name for it?”

“F… f… fuck, yes!” stuttered Pamela, who enjoyed very much saying the wicked word while she was being rodded.

Excited beyond measure, Agnes sprang up.

“Edmund, dear, do not come yet, for I think we may best enjoy her together. Take your prick out and put her on her back.”

“Oh!” squealed Pamela, who seemed surprised by the idea and regretted her lewdness. It was fun to remain apparently innocent. But entirely in the thrall of Agnes, as it seemed, Edmund withdrew his steaming shaft while Agnes bundled Pamela over onto her back, thus leaving her prey again to the cock whilst her legs dangled over the edge of the bed and her pussy pulsed for more. That she was about to receive it was evident, for, raising her own skirt to her hips, Agnes immediately clambered about Pamela's shoulders and-facing her brother-slowly lowered the rolled lips of her slit upon the girl's mouth while Edmund once more inserted the pestle.

A burbling cry that might have been one of surprise or pleasure issued briefly from Pamela's mouth as the thick curls about Agnes's plump mount tickled her nose and the squashy lips descended fully. Arching her back in an intensity of pleasure as Edmund's prick re-entered her slit fully, Pamela thrust her tongue upward and began to lick.

Rolling her eyes and moaning, Agnes leaned forward and embraced her brother, their mouths joining in the most passionate of kisses while the hips and bottoms of all three waggled and jiggled their pleasure.

Half-choking but yet in the most pleasurable state, Pamela duly received the salty spray of Agnes on her tongue while herself annointing the Vicar's potent tool. That he was in fact only now urging himself to come was apparent to both females, who panted their pleasure while Agnes's long tongue worked encouragingly back and forth in Edmund's mouth.

A huge quiver seized him. His legs trembled. His knees bent.

“Ah, my love, I am coming in her! Oh, what streams! My heavens, how she sucks me in!”

So the lubricious flood exploded as the spermy effusion completely filled Pamela's grotto and trickled about the inner surfaces of her thighs. Panting for more and only wishing that there were another to take his place, Pamela could only grip him to the last while Agnes's slit ground itself with equal greed of desire upon her sodden lips.

All then expired, their efforts having been so lusty that for a long moment they lay panting in the sweet aftermath with Pamela couched between the pair and feeling as warm a bath between her thighs as she had yet known. Only the fretful stirring of Agnes aroused her from her blissful state at last, for Agnes fretted unduly now that Pamela might turn against them.

“Is all well, my pet?” Agnes asked anxiously, whilst a momentarily subdued Edmund proceeded once more to dress, with the same momentary quivers of anxiety as Agnes.

“Oh, indeed,” Pamela smiled sweetly, to their great relief, though little knowing how much she was preparing the ground-or bed-for other maidens to follow. “It is a great honour to receive the sceptre and the- er…”

Sprightly of mind in her recovery of relief, Agnes kissed her salty lips.

“The fount, my dear, for that is what I possess between my thighs, and thus you are fully anointed for what awaits you.”

“Of that I am certain,” replied Pamela faintly, though she knew them to be as big a pair of hypocrites as she was ever likely to encounter. It would be as well not to tell them now who she really was. They must fall into their own trap, and she felt certain that they would.

Sedately as she felt befitted the occasion, Pamela then made her departure, smiling shyly at Edmund all the while and thus nurturing his belief that she was the most perfect of female parishioners. Assuring both that she would tell her “uncle” that she had been treated wisely and well, Pamela made her way back down the path.

There Jack waited for her with the carriage. As Pamela made to enter it, a girl of her own age approached from across the green and nodded to her uncertainly. Walking past, and attired in what Pamela instinctively felt was her best dress-though the fashion was some two years old-she entered the gate.

Pamela seated herself while Jack closed the door. The seat, though padded, was a trifle hard, after her lascivious spell on the bed and her thighs were still sticky with the Vicar's effusion.

“Home, Miss?”

“Oh, yes, Jack, for it will be teatime when we arrive.”

What to tell Lady Bromley, Pamela knew not. For a day or two, at least, she must try to keep out of her way. Then she would merely say that she had given her message and that it had been well received. That would at least be in part true, and neither the Vicar nor his sister would dare deny the truth of it.

Turning her head, Pamela took one last curious glance toward the girl who was now knocking at the door, but then attended to her other thoughts, wondering how Helen had fared with her Papa.

As the carriage rattled on, the door of the vicarage opened. Seconds later, Carrie entered the drawing room where Agnes and Edmund sat, excitedly discussing their latest conquest.

“It's a girl, sir.”

“Oh? Has she come back then? Is something amiss?”

“Indeed it might be, sir, for it is a different one, and she has come-to put up her marriage banns!”