0 comments/ 15417 views/ 0 favorites The Grand Tour By: Paul44 13 May 1727, Dover It really is quite amazing Pater has decided to allow me to go on the Tour before he cements me in place as son and heir to his title, no doubt that bitch my Aunt was complaining to him about my antics about town. What does she expect of a red blooded man to do. So I am off to see the foreign doxies and other places of ill-repute or at least I would try if I can get away from that old fool I have been chained to, some Old Stick of a parson, no doubt intended to be a good influence on me. Some hope eh Bart Old Man. My God Bartelby his words seem to sprout from the air itself. That would not be so bad if he could say something interesting but all he does is tell me about the most puerile rubbish and in Greek and Latin yet. More he makes preaches sermons at me about being virtuous and following God's path, damned if I want to do that when the Devil made women. Fortunately he is a fool and I have been able to enjoy some sin and corruption on my trip to the port of Dover. Still I will miss our trips to the entertainments of London. How I love the Bear-Baiting, playing cards and the Bawdy Houses pf London, still there will be more than enough to keep me busy on the continent if the reports I have heard are to be believed eh old man. I left on a lovely morning. That little minx my dried-up Aunt's maid woke me by playing my flute in the morning. My God the woman has a mouth that should be studied and admired as a perfect instrument. She woke me up with a perfect boner in her mouth and those lips stretched over my cock giving it a kiss that was memorable. When she saw I had woken up she smiled at me so sweetly that I almost wanted her to come on my trip. Naturally I gained my senses quickly and guided her lips back to my cock and she continued her marvellous work. If you ever have the joy of her lips my friend you would cum with more pleasure than you can imagine. She held me from my orgasm with skill and joy, enjoying the fact I was becoming more excited with each second. Then just before I am to spill my seed into her mouth she spits me out and straddles me with her skirt hiked up to her hips. Well she eases her hot quim onto my cock and lets it slide smoothly into her. It feels like a furnace man and she strokes my cock by pushing and sliding her hot hole up and down my rod. Gives you a new meaning to sparing the rod and spoiling the child eh Bart. So she rides me and if I had ridden a filly as good as this I would pay her weight in gold to put her in the races. Well we were playing up hill and down dale and her hips are moving beautifully, a proper rolling gait that should be seen on all the local huntswomen. I steer her by taking her soft, fat tits in my hand and squeeze on the teats, oh my she cries out so prettily. Doesn't take too long and I feel that delicious squirting of my cum into her hot quim. She grinds her hips against mine until I can't squeeze another drop into her. She slips off me and kisses me with her bawdy lips and I pinch her lovely fat arse to give her a proper thankee. I can tell you my old stick that I felt again that I should take her with me. Damned foolish heh, but I soon got myself together and give her a bit of cash to remember me by and get up. As you know there is nothing like a good rogering to wake a fellow up and I climb into my clothes and put in the last of my clothes into my portmanteau and summon some ill-mannered oaf to take it down to the door and then to the inn where our transport would await. My stony-faced bitch of my Aunt wished me good-speed at the door whilst under my breath I wished her good-riddance. Naturally the old harridan has the venerable Bede at the door and with the grunting servant carrying the case we get a carriage to the Inn where the Dover Post leaves. At least the Pater has not stinted on the silver and we had a seat with the other worthies instead of out in the open on top. Since it is raining off and on that means we are happy and dry. A nice little bit of female flesh sat opposite with me with a rather corpulent gent who wipes his red face. Well the Old Stick looks at him and greets him. Seems they were at the same college or some such nonsense, it turns out that this man is a priest in some church in Dover and the winsome bit opposite to me is his wife. Don't say that I don't try to help friendship since I offer my seat to the priest which he takes up with many thanks and he plops his fat behind on the cracked leather next to the Old Stick. Of course this leaves me right next to his wife and let me say that when she looked at me I saw that lovely gleam in her eyes that means that the strumpet isn't being taken care of by the learned doctor of theology. The carriage gives a mighty crack as we begin our journey and the Old Stick and his friend are quickly conjugating verbs and telling ancient Latin witticisms to each other as I pass the time with the good Doctor's wife pointing out the sights of the passing city and then the country. Since everyone is busy or asleep I slip my hand under her dress and I stroke a lovely soft thigh. She is quite naked beneath her dress and petticoat and she parts her legs so I can get between them. Bart old man there is nothing like the skin between a woman's legs and her quim, it is so soft and welcoming to fingers. Soon I am combing my fingers through her forest until I come to her cock-valley and dip a finger in. Well she gasps and the Old Stick looks at her and then me with suspicion and asks if she is well. As she stammers out some excuse I slip my hand out of her skirt and onto my lap looking innocent. He must have had some inkling of my actions because after some refreshment at Rochester he tells me that we are staying at Canterbury over night and he is sitting next to me again when we start off. I almost laughed when the wife told her foolish husband that she was too tired and womanly to continue any further so they took up rooms in the same inn. Naturally in Canterbury we were soon wearing out our knees as we were dragged around to the cathedral and other places dedicated to God. So it was with relief that we had dinner at the inn. Will I never learn that learned gentlemen are even more boring over our meal and with a couple bottles of claret, I thought I had gone to some hell where you are always with scholars who find joy in Latin grammar. Charlotte for that was the delightful crumpet's name soon left us to more manly pursuits, something she said with a look at me. I have little idea what she meant to the Old Stick and his friend but I knew what manly pursuit I wished to enjoy and it was not with the rapidly drinking sots in the dining room. You should have heard the shouts and laughter as I left them as I made the excuse of illness. The way they were drinking I could easily see that they would be well into their cups for many an hour. As soon as I left I leapt up the stairs and making sure that no one was about I knocked softly at her door. What a delight opened the door, her golden hair shone in the candlelight and her voluptuous breasts made her linen nightdress move fetchingly. Gathering the bint into my arms I pushed into the room and closed the door behind us. Well she made the general how dare you sir and other things women say before you get the leg over and the cock in and then she was on the bed. Once there she was helping me off with my jacket and down with my trousers. When she saw what nature had blessed me with she could barely take her eyes off it. She told me that her husband's cock was so small and she was uncertain that she could take this monster. That will be no problem laughs I as I pulled down the cloth covering two milky white teats that I greeted like a hungry babe meaning of course that I was suckling, licking and kissing them for what my life was worth. Soon my dear Bart she was huffing, puffing and groaning as I readied her for the delights of my furrowing her vale. So as I devoured her from above my hand was stroking her soft thigh flesh and then underneath the forest of light down along her quim lip. She cried out with pleasure as I pushed my finger into her hot hole and I would have sworn she had what the French call the little death. Well thinks I what a delightful Bawdy Basket you are and I will enjoy putting the horns on your husband. Oh she gushed like a waterfall and I knew that it was time to harvest my crop. Then I plop my mouth off her pink teat and cover her mouth with my own and dive deep with my tongue as I part her thighs and pull her nightdress to her lips exposing her hot quim and with practised ease I arrange myself nicely into position and guide my cock to her entrance of her cock valley. A short hard thrust and I slipped into her. My God old boy she would have screamed had I not been kissing her, as it was she almost cut off my tongue with her teeth. Well I was soon plowing her valley with a determination and delight that occurs when you have a goodly quim to enjoy. Well were grinding and thrusting and she crying as though she has never had this before which is likely true, her husband is more like to read sermons to her than fuck her. Then its my cock shooting cream into her furrow and she's squeezing her legs naturally, what a bawd this woman would make thinks I when I hear the door being fumbled with. So what's a man to do but make a dash to the window, I did wish her a quick goodnight and kissed her lips before with a naked arse showing and my trousers down my ankles, my coat in my arms I swing out of the window and drop to the roof of the stables, damned if I didn't turn my ankle too. So I made my way to my room where the Old Stick is asleep and snoring. Breakfast and I make much noise and speak about the deviltry in drink taking my revenge on all that boredom that the Old Stick has inflicted on me. Downstairs and we are greeted like the prodigal by the good Doctor and his wife who says that she is feeling much better thankee though the cuckolded husband doesn't look all that good I think. Well as we are drinking ale and enjoying our repast she is feeling my cock under the table and the looks she is giving me would have burnt down the place had they been any warmer. Well thinks I, I will need some further religious education from you. Not that there is much chance of that as we are taken on a tour of the delights of the cathedral again and its surrounds. I was able to get a little revenge by remarking how Popish the Old Stick as he was going on about Thomas Cranmer. You would have laughed at the appalled look that passed over his face when he heard that, it was worth it though for the next two minutes he couldn't even speak through all his sputtering and shaking. Unfortunately there was no hanky-panky as our guard dogs kept us firmly in tow and we were soon again on the Dover Post being bored by participles and conjugation. I can say that it was with delight that we entered Dover and pulled up at the inn we were to stay at before leaving for France in two days. Just as they were going to leave the good Doctor and wife offered us a supper that night and we naturally accepted, I think that the good Charlotte even winked at me. So none of the delights of a port I thought but the delights of a good wife and I chuckled as I dressed. A pleasant repast was had by all and the old codgers were soon reminiscing over old fagging rituals and who got whipped hardest as I made my way to a handy closet. Being a lady my bawd had left already and she pulled me into a large press where amidst sheets and blankets I turned her hot body around and pulled her skirts up to expose a delightfully rounded arse and beneath it her hot quim. Cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples I pushed my cock into her ready hole. My word Bart it was tight and hot, she squeezed my rod and gasped as I rogered her hard and strong. The cries that came from her as I plowed her valley again and again were a wonder. Didn't take long until I was spreading seed into the valley of course and who knows perhaps the good Doctor will be having a child soon, serves the old fool right says I. So properly refreshed I wished the good Charlotte goodbye and wished her good fortune in her hunt since once a woman has had a real man she wants more and I made my way back to the table where much tipsy with claret the Old Stick and I staggered back to Inn. So yesterday was last minute purchases and checking out the ship that will take us to Calais. Enough for now old man. I will write again when I can. Yours in Friendship H______________ The Grand Tour Ch. 02 Chapter 2: Amiens My Dear Bartelby, 26 May 1727, Amiens Bart old man you can not imagine the boredom I have faced in this Godforsaken Frogville. I don't understand why foreigners have to speak some jabber jaw that means nothing, they should learn English like all right thinking gentlemen. At least I have a knack for languages and I can speak Frog tolerable well. Hah after all Pater made sure that I had the best tutors and they certainly used the stick to make me enthusiastic. The Old Stick has been recovering from what he claims was some fatal disease. Hah more likely he was being a sham saying he was sick after our little trip across the channel. I have never seen a worse sailor, as soon as we were aboard he was over the side puking up his breakfast even though it was still tied to the wharf. I did make sure that I ate with him, purely to show brotherly concern at his ill-fortune of course. My how green he would go as I waved my piece of blood sausage under his nose. Well a man must have some fun when you are near such a canting fellow as my Old Stick. To see his face you would have thought we were going through one of the worst storms in history instead of an easy sail in a brisk wind. With an easy passage we were able to make a landing at Calais that evening though some damned Froggy official wanted to check our luggage. The Old Stick being sick would have rolled over and let him touch our stuff with his stuffy Froggy hands and manner but I soon showed the man what sort of men we have in England and he was quickly fawning over me realising that I was no damned commoner. So we took a joyful parting of our vessel and made our way to the best Inn in the town and had a hearty meal. Or should I say that I did, our good Pastor feeling the need to remain in one place that did not rock under his feet stayed in bed and pleading piteously for a little soup. Well I enjoyed filling the victualling office in my body. Though some clever Papist Frog has made the money worth something this year, Sterling is still more valued here and the Frogs will sell anything to get some good English currency. So it was only that there were others from our fair country that stopped me buying the services of one of the serving wenches and I decided to try my luck in the port of Calais. Pater would not have been pleased of course since I fell in with bad company almost at once and over some tolerable red we played a few hands of Whist. Well bless me if they can't play with any skill and I have won some five pounds before I decided to see what joys can be further found in a port since I was feeling pleased with myself. I have been told on occasion that such places are full of women of low repute and dens of iniquity. In fact some of my new found friends were trying to take me to one when some ill-kept ruffians fell on us. As you know Pater made sure I knew which end of a blade is best to use since he paid for enough tutors so I held my own and they fell on the others with the same joy that long-lost brothers greet their absent kin. That is they want to kill the good fellows. Seeing the lay of the land I am backing out when I see the leader spy me. An ugly brute if there ever was one with a scar through his left cheek and hard dark eyes, he was one that would be sure to dance the hangman's jig at Tynburn. He looks at me as though he is asking that I play with him but no thankee I think and hightail from that scapegallows and his friends and head back to the inn. The morning saw both a sickly Old Stick and myself board the Paris coach and with a full load of meat on board we roll out of Calais after a goodly breakfast for me and some foolish book for the Old Stick. Something that some God-botherer in Dublin wrote last year about travels and a land of little people. I tell you Bart old man some people will read any old rubbish. I have to say that the Old Stick wasn't his usual censorious self and must have been a little sickly. I ask you again why can't civilised people speak a proper tongue, as it was they make these clucking noises that make up the damned Froggy tongue. As I have said I understand and speak it readily enough since my old tutor taught me with the sound of a caning if I tried to play hooky or not learn the bloody thing. Still I can speak the lingo easily enough as well as that stuff the Dons, Wogs and the Burgers spout when they try to talk. It was a bumpy trip, the road was better than most but it hadn't been graded and filled in where the winter rains had washed it away, also there was no fair strumpets to enjoy since our company all there seemed to be were fat merchants or ill-mannered Frogs going to Paris. Well I was pleased to stop at Amiens in the evening when the Old Stick comes over all sick and we get him to a room at the Inn and summon a Quack, who says that he can't move and he needs rest. Nothing that a good bleeding would have fixed if you ask me but no the good Doctor has some wog theory that bleeding is bad for your health, so here as the Old Stick gets better though I have found some amusement in this place. I do not know if you have ever had the enjoyment of being in Amiens but all it has to enjoy is a damned big Cathedral and some mud that they grow things in. My God man if they have society that I could find it is beyond me all that they have is damned Lawyers and tailors trying to act as their betters do. So the thought of being here leaves me wanting to scream that I am in Hell. They do have some damned fine tailors though and it was with them I had the chance to have fun. So leaving the Parson with some slattern to mop his fevered brow I decided to order some good cambric shirts and other items of apparel, using the instructions from the innkeeper I made my way to some stitcher who was fawning and scraping over me as is only proper as I told him of my order. Of course he says and leads me to his changing room and bids me take off my jacket and waistcoat so he can measure me. Well what enters but his wife and a winsome doxie she is. Froggy may not be civilised but just ordering shirts can sound like a romantic speech and she watches me as her husband reads off numbers as he measures me for my new clothes and she copies them down. Thinks I as she does this I would love you to measure my inside leg and have a look at my middle leg you delightful tart. Well had you seen him you would have not wondered that she liked my look and I flexed a goodly bit of thigh at her which brought a smile to her lips and she tugged down her dress a little to give me a good eyeful of female breast of which she seemed amply proportioned. Well thinks I once you have them smiling then they are on the way to some rumpy-pumpy and looking at the grey strings of hair on the bald pate of the tailor who is droning on makes me think this young miss might like to have some hair to run her fingers through and I am the man to give her the chance with my thick brown locks. Measurements finished the old needle pusher bids me fare thee well and asks his bint to take me to his stock so I can choose the material I want my clothes made of, so thinks I the tart and I will be close together perhaps we can make that intimately close. So she leads me into a lovely little wardrobe filled with rolls of linen, cambric, broadcloth and brocades. Then with a lamp she shows me a nice bit of cambric as well as her breast. It is a breast to be admired my dear Bart firm and plump like the quail that you can devour with great enjoyment and she sees that I am enjoying the view and she turns to me as though offering it to me. Well I tell her that I much prefer to see her cloth and brush the naked skin of her breasts with my lips. Yes I know I was being forward but this wench was begging for me to plow her cock-valley with my rod and she giggles and says non to my yes and blow me she puts the lamp down and begins to touch my cock through my trousers. Well if the lamp is shining then so are her eyes and her lascivious lips are open and begging for my kisses. You know me and being the kindly hearted soul I am those lips are soon touching mine and I am playing wrestle the tongue in her mouth. As I kiss her lips I pull her dress down so that I expose fully her lovely paps to my hungry hands and teeth. They are hidden in the shadows but are so firm to my touch that I know that I am going to enjoy them. When my lips wrap themselves about her teats they are so firm and big that they are a wonder should be taken as the best in the world. How she swooned in my hands then and I push her onto the table of cloths that they keep in here. Some quick exploration under her petticoats allows me to uncover her ripe haunches and I pull up two plump legs so that I can run my hands over her tender thighs and then the thicket of curls between them, a thicket that I intended to cultivate with my plough my dear Bart. You should have heard the groans and cries as I felt her wet quim, why she must have been in need of a good rogering for ages. Thankee I tells my maker and I enjoy running my hands over her lovely thighs and enjoying the thought of what is to come. With her ripe ass cheeks in my hands I lift up her hips after dropping my trousers to my ankles and I was able to give those fleshy orbs a good squeezing. What a joy a lovely arse is, it begs a good fondling and spanking and she is a lovely hot bawd and she is begging me to give her my rod. Well what she wanted I can give I thinks. Her legs open and her quim there in front of me brings out the best in me and like the true craftsman I thread her needle with my cock and find that it is a delightful needle, it is so warm and moist and inviting. So I use my cock to stitch the thread into her flesh and a hot little minx she is as I squeeze her teats and as I pump her quim with my cock. She is screaming and I have to cover her mouth in case that addle-pate of her husband hears her but there is pleasure for all involved in this little tailoring. My God Old Man she almost screamed through my hand when she cums. Oh she is very grateful as I feel her cum and I wondered if her husband has been neglecting his little wifey. I must say Old Man she was a good ride and with the noise we have made I wondered if our little game has been heard but there is no outraged husband threatening to cut my bollocks off so I return to the Inn with a lively step and a whistle on my lips thinking of my next fitting in two days. Then damn it all the Old Stick is up and about and he is off to the Cathedral dragging me behind him. The man is a font of information on cathedrals and architecture and it is so boring! How many times did I want to fall asleep with that damned boring voice in my ears. Oh and he loves nature so we were with the dung eaters as we checked out their swamps and what they grew, that man came so close to being made to eat dung I can tell you. What was even worse he kept a beady eye on me all the time and I was unable to go a whoring and gambling as I wanted, not that there is much in this benighted place. So I had two damned boring two days but thank God for the tailor or rather his pretty doxie. Even the eagle-eyed God-botherer agreed that I needed another fitting so it was with some happiness that I entered the tailors house and was met by my French doe-eyed doxie. Seeing the Old Stick with me I could see what lust she had flee her eyes until struck by inspiration I told the old tailor to make my esteemed fellow traveller suitable clothes for a city such as Paris. No sooner than I had said the words than the greedy old beggar was all over the good Parson who positively preened and strutted with the compliments and the thought of new clothes though God knows what would make that bean-pole figure look good, nothing on this Earth thinks I. With our chaperone's busy his bawdy little wife was ushering me out the door and into our favourite storeroom and she had her lips pressed to mine in no time. Hold off I tell her and I cup her bounteous boobies and kiss their creamy slopes, well she is all aswoon as I am doing this and she wants a good hump there and then but I want to teach her how to make the French Kiss as that maid of my pox-ridden hag of an aunt taught me. So I drop my trousers and draws and draw her attention to my cock nice and hard. The little minx is positively drooling at the sight so I tell her that it needs to be kissed and made to feel welcome. Well she looks a little unsure but I press her to her knees and let my cock touch her lips. Soon the little cock-sucker is kissing and whispering endearments to the spear at her lips and I see that the little tart is rubbing her quim under her dress, what a hot little trollop she was and thank God I met her. Well she needed a good lather before I leave thinks I and I give her some advice on what to do with her tongue. Bart my old friend I think that most women must have the makings of a good cocksucker in them. What they need of course is a good cock and someone willing to help them learn. So I was delighted as she licked around my head and even pulled the foreskin back to lick in the slit and the little bit of skin under it. Then she takes my cock into her mouth and I'm pumping it in and out until unable to hold off I cum. Well my cock is out of her mouth quick smart and I'm pumping cream onto those gorgeous boobies that have been uncovered. Using some old rags we wipe the stuff off and I pull her to her feet and throw her over the cloth on the table. Flipping her skirts up I expose that lovely curved haunch and enjoy the sight of her wet quim the hair sticking to the lips. This one is ready for a good rogering and by God I am the man to do it. Being young my cock is up and ready again in next to no time and I pull open those fleshy thighs and pull her body to my cock. Reaching down I guide it into her valley and push it in with a deep sense of contentment. No not contentment I want to fuck her brains out and I did Bart, oh I fucked her. She was thrashing and groaning so much it was a wonder that the city did not hear us. I threaded that needle well and furrowed the valley and sowed my seed with a great deal of energy. If I was enjoying my time with her she was having a good time as well from the groans and cries she was giving forth. Then I flood her quim with my cum and she is crying with delight praying that I have given her a baby for that is what she wants. Well thinks I if that is what you want and you don't want anything else lets give it a good try and I'm nibbling at her boobies and her teats and lovely hard things pressed to my tongue they are and my cock is stirring until I hear the voice of the Old Stick calling for me. Enough said hey. Soon we are out of there and it is another two days before we are seeing them, this time though it is in our rooms as they deliver the clothes we have ordered. Well the old Tailor probably added a bit on the price but the clothes are well-stitched and his wife gave me the price and more in her services. So I have to say that the Tailors of Amiens are good craftsmen and their wives even better. Next day we are off in the coach and our next stop will be Paris and the delights there. I think I have a few plans to throw off my guardian angel so I can meet up with devils in that delightful city. Your Friend Always H_______________ PS there will be a man calling around at your house soon. He is an ill-looking fellow with a scar on his face. Pay him five hundred pounds my good fellow and give him the key to my boat house on the Thames and tell him to talk to Hawkins my factor. No need to tell Pater about him or the Excise Men, what they don't know wont hurt them and what is a little more booze in the country hey. You'll get half of the sale of course. H_________________ The Grand Tour Ch. 03 Chapter 3: Paris My Dear Bartelby 20 June 1727, Boulevard Saint-Germain, Paris Well Bart my good fellow the world turns so quickly. So the old German is dead and the new German is on the throne, at least Cock Robin will keep him in check and the wheels of commerce turning, God bless him. At least the Frogs seem to be behaving themselves after the thrashing we gave them in the last war. The old Scotch here are trying to be a nuisance of course. Now to the more interesting parts of my letter, it took us all of three days on the post coach from Amiens to reach the gates of Paris. You can't imagine the boredom of it, no fillies to ride the entire trip or if they were they were under the eye of some dragon who would breathe fire whenever I came near their little dears. The Inns were just dreadful the food terrible and the beds covered in fleas. Being with the old stick didn't help either but I have to say I was saving my energy for the debauches of Paris. So it was with great relief that we came to a stop outside the Hotel de Ville and were met by Pater's man in Paris. Well he was a breath of fresh air as he drove away the beggars with his stick and organised a carriage to take us to a friend of my fathers who we would be staying with, a Madame de Crespigny. Of course it has nothing to do with about caring for me but if she puts me up then he doesn't have to pay for a servant and apartments so the old skinflint saves his money. Well the old girl has a tasteful little house on the Boulevard Saint-Germain and I thought to myself when we got there I was going to have a good time here. Blow me down when we see the Madame I am presented to a wicked piece of work who sizes me up within seconds. Let me try to describe her Old Man. She is a classical beauty, blonde hair, pert nose and wicked blue eyes that sparkle with lust. She is in her forties I would say but has some very voluptuous curves and when I saw her tits offered in that dress I felt like popping them out and devouring them there and then. Later finding out what she was like she would have made a proper go of it and we would have made the two humped beast right in front of the Old Stick. What I did see was a recognition of a similar debauched soul and my appreciation of Pater went up a notch or two. That was after I got to know her but when I first met her she was a fright, white powder all over her hair and her face made up like a child's doll with red rouged cheeks and white skin. Seems thats all the fashion here but those eyes caught me and they promised me a good rogering if nothing did. Seems that the strumpet had another of her debauched friends over some duchess or other and had made herself up in the most fashionable manner. I can say that her hand was very interesting to me as I kissed it and she promised me a very interesting time in Paris in a delightful piping tone, to which I replied that with her as my guide, Paris had my interest already. Just as the social lubrication was bubbling along the Old Stick pipes up in that irritating nasal twang and greets the Madame. She looks him up and down and then flashes him a dazzling smile and calls her young companion over. A look at her makes you think that mice walk, so timid and unassuming she was that I hadn't even seen her near us. But don't you know she strikes the Old Stick dumb and he walks with the little mouse quietly. My God thinks I the Old Stick is sick again or has fallen in love. If he is really lucky he might just get his leg over and be rid of his virginity and then I shudder at the thought of even the mouse having to cope with those spindly legs and his latinisms as he works out what to use and where to put it. Perhaps I shuddered but the Mistress next to me whispers that I must be tired and that perhaps some refreshment and a lie down would refresh us. Looking at that doll's face made me want to tell her that I would give her a good lie down but I keep being polite through gritted teeth and accept what she suggests and I see that lovely wicked gleam in her eye Bart and I wonder what refreshments are on offer. Valets whisk us to our apartments and we are given some light pastries and other things to take the edge off our hunger though my cock is hungry for quim as you can imagine. Let me tell you that she has given us some lovely rooms and they are in exquisite taste though too ladylike for my taste, just give me some leather a mattress and something to hump on it and I am happy none of this chintz and lace lark. What is better is that the Old Stick has his own rooms and that means he can't keep his damned eye on me which is worth much to me as he a great damned nuisance. Then there is a light tapping at a wall that slides inwards and a little minx of a maid wanders in and tells me that the Mistress requests the pleasure of my company. Hmm thinks I lets hope there is more pleasure than that and I followed the little trollop into the hidden passage behind the wall. When the hidden door is opened I am delighted to find the mistress of the house lounging on a fine bit of furniture and with the garish makeup removed and her clothes save for a fine shift off her body and I was able to eye her barely covered breasts to my content wanting to feast not only my eyes but my mouth on those fine paps. But she stops me and begins to ask me questions all the time running her eyes over my body and especially on my cock which has risen to the occasion ready for her. Well not for her she decides and she calls over the little minx of her maid and tells her that she should pop out her tits so that I can enjoy some woman flesh. The Madam certainly knows how to greet a man proper thinks I as I hear the instructions. Much to my surprise the little slattern pops them out and begins to rub them in front of me especially pinching her tips that grow to nice light brown hills. Well my cock is straining at the leash and I am onto the little maid with a growl in my throat and a cock ready to burst. The girl offers me her tits and I take them in my mouth and start swirling them with my tongue. Well don't you know that the Madam is telling me to go slower and opens my trousers and takes my cock into her hands. Damn but I still don't know why I didn't burst and cream myself right there. The woman strokes along my cock and I feel her rub her hand along my buttocks as she feels their hardness, the rotten little minx keeps out of my reach though and I wonder if the tease will let me cum at all. The titties that I am playing with are truly appreciative of the thorough going over their getting Bart my lad and she is ready for a good furrowing in her cock-valley. Having some experience at reading the signs that women give off she is trumpeting them. Before I can get her on the lounge or even the carpet Madam is pulling her away and saying that to make love to a woman I should do it slowly, damn slowly I want to tell her but a man must do what a man must do and devil take the hindmost. Perhaps she knows what I am thinking because she spins the maid around gets her to bend over and pulls up her skirts exposing two plump legs cased in white woollen stockings and a smooth naked ass of purest white to my eyes and I am panting like a dog on heat. Damn but doesn't she have a lovely brunette thatch at the top of her legs and the lips a dripping waiting there for me to plow my cock between them. Then Madam is parting her maid's legs and opening her ass cheeks telling me how women like a good tonguing between their legs and that I should learn this way to pleasure a woman before rutting with her. Shrugging I think anything if I get to dip my wick in her honey-pot so I kneel behind that beautiful rump and run my hands over the plump flesh like I am feeling the meat on a young calf working out what to eat first. It is too much to bear what with that juicy wet quim waiting for me and my cock ready for a good fucking but somehow I put my lips to that lovely waiting hole. Bart old man I never thought a woman's snatch could taste so sweet and she wriggled like a fish on a line as I stuck my tongue into her like a cock. You know something old man they even have a small cock and if you touch it they go crazy with pleasure. Why she even squirted when she is crying out that she is cuming and I lap at the honeypot even more thoroughly. She ends naturally and Madam is applauding our actions and crying bravo as though she has seen a great performance. And perhaps she has I must say with modesty many a tramp and slattern has told me that I have a natural talent between the bed sheets. Now to finish her off she cries and I am a man who will agree with that and I rise to my feet my cock dripping with precum and very ready to please the woman's maid. The Madam takes me by my cock and her warm hand holds my hardness and guides me to the young woman's trembling body and then to that wet quim and with intense relief and pleasure I thrust my spear deep into the woman. Well what a groan of pleasure she lets out as I push my cock all the way into her. As I do so the mistress cries bravo again and tells me to be slow let her enjoy each inch she says and for once I listen to a woman since she seems to know her business. Well the maid squirms and cries with pleasure as I hold off from giving her a quick heave ho as I usually do. So the trollop just cums and cums as I impale her on my spear and she squeezes those beauteous tits of hers as I tease and make her hot quim mine. Well even though I try to keep slow I am soon thrusting hard and fast into her body and I feel my cock ready to explode and I just can't hold anymore as I feel that wonderful release of cum flooding through my cock and into her hot quim. Do you know Bart old chap it was even better than the quick wham, bam and thankyou since keeping my cuming to the future seemed to make it more pleasurable when it came. As I thrust into the maid and give her my cum the Madam is clapping and applauding my ability and I think she may be jealous it isn't her that is being given a good rogering. Finally soft I slip from the maid who straightens up and blow me down if the woman is the perfect maid and thanking Madam for the service and with a wink to me she is off out the door. What of Madam you say well the old woman looks at me with lust firmly in the eye and tells me tonight she will ride me ragged if I am a good boy. With a wave of her graceful hand I leave by the normal door and make my way to my rooms below. No doubt you are shaking your head old man that I was so without gumption to not stick it to her there and then but I tell you old man the woman had me so under her thumb I would have barked for her just as long as I got into her lap later on. So its off down the stairs and I find that a bath has been set with soap and all. These Frogs seem to have this thing with cleanliness and I wonder if this is something I need to do when the maid I have just rogered within an inch of her life is here and taking off my clothes cooing in my ear that Madam would love to see me bathed and perfumed like one of her countrymen. Well left unsaid is if I don't let this happen there will be no fuck and I want that fuck! What you think, is my old friend becoming some toothless tiger but as she is saying this the little maid is rubbing her lovely breasts that have popped out again into my chest and is wearing next to nothing and she is expertly stripping off my clothes. So there I am as this little girl with her tits out and in her transparent shift strips me and leads me into the bath. Not only that but she steps in and is pouring water over us making that shift damed see through and letting me see that lovely hair covered quim between her legs. Then the minx is on her knees and she's got my cock between her lips and playing the flute with all the skill I should expect of this Lady's maid. I don't need much encouragement even though she drained me before and I am shooting cum over her face and she's smiling at me and crying out bravo and other Froggy nonsense but I am not a little displeased with my performance and she continues to clean me up especially around my cock and balls. Satisfied with her work she steps out and dries me off and then leads me to some outlandish clothes she says her Mistress wants me to wear. In for a penny thinks I and I am soon struggling into some of the richest brocades and silks I've ever seen until I look quite the gay blade and properly Frenchified and the little trollop still half naked gives my bottom a slap as she goes out the door. So my friend I will leave my missal there with you begging for more as I was and will tell you what happened in my next letter. Oh I have some sketches and paintings coming your way. Not for the ladies if you get my meaning unless you have some trollop who may like that sort of thing and may want to learn something new. Your Friend H...