0 comments/ 39478 views/ 2 favorites Art Lovers By: Leftwriter The grand tudor estate of Charles and Marsha Goodwin occupied five and half acres of the exclusive Cliffside Villas on the eastern edge of Heathwood's city limits. Our occasion for donning black tie and cocktail dress was to celebrate the acquisition of a recently discovered Vermeer for the Heathwood Art Museum, of which the esteemed Mr. Goodwin held the post of Director. The party also offered an opportunity for major museum donors to meet one another and stare slack-jawed at the impressive private collection on display throughout the house. My wife Wendy dressed in the traditional black cocktail dress women wear when they are uncertain how a different color will go over. This particular dress broke with tradition by sliding around her body as if it alone was trying to dance the twist while she more demurely gyrated her hips and breasts in that uniquely and uncontrollably feminine way of walking in three inch heels. A single strand of akoya pearls expressed her exquisite taste and appreciation of natural beauty while avoiding the sins of fabulously expensive and nauseatingly inappropriate jewelry. The pearls were of dazzling whiteness with a rose undertone that complemented her long wavy dark brown hair. Her hair shared a joke with her pearls by also hiding an elusive red undertone among its tresses. "Oh, I see Penelope, off I go. Find me if you need something, otherwise mingle. I know you hate these things. Just think of it as a chance to find things to complain about for the rest of the weekend," she said before cutting a path through the crowd. "I'm not that bad, am I?" I asked during her departure. She cast a knowing glance with a crooked grin over her shoulder and winked her playful little wink. She silently mouthed, "I like it when you're bad" then cut into the deep throng of guests to make her way to Penelope. I was still watching her through the jungle of bodies when I felt a set of fingers run across my stomach. When I turned to look, I saw those fingers attached to a body that was trying very hard to burst from a practically sheer evening gown. Her gown sparkled with gold flecks barely concealing her intimate features through a stretchy fabric colored somewhere between nude and sunshine. The voluptuous curves of her flesh pushed against the seams of the flimsy tissue of a dress. Atop that body was the golden mane and canary-eating smile of an heiress who had grown so accustomed to getting what she wanted, that social convention escaped her long ago. "I'm Marsha, your hostess, and who might you be?" "Hanson Halifax, but unless you like formality as much as my parents, you can call me what everybody else does, Hand." "Hand? Why Hand, I wonder. Are there special tricks you do with your hands that a girl might like?" "It's a nickname. I picked it up in college, but mostly I just tell people it is short for Hanson. There is nothing special about my hands." Marsha grasped one of my hands between hers and examined it, palm and back. "Well, they aren't unusually big, which was my first guess" she said with a smile after glancing down to my belt. "But, they are well manicured, strong and flexible. Are you sure you don't want to tell me the whole story?" "It's not something that can be explained. So how many people are invited?" "It isn't so much how many as whom. Most of our guests seem to be dried up old bitties, harbor seals floating in from suburbia, or pudgy accountants who think of depreciation tables and estate taxes when it comes to art. Are you an artist?" "If I were, I wouldn't be here because I wouldn't have the money to be a major donor to the museum. Actually, I'm an architect, which means I'm half doodler and half salesman. What do you do?" "I own a formal dress shop downtown, not for the money, just something to do. It drives me a little crazy sometimes though; helping half-naked women into and out of dresses all day long. Sometimes I help them tape their breasts for strapless numbers, you know, for cleavage. It never fails to amaze me how important a little bit of skin is. Do you ever feel like a little piece of skin is very important?" "It depends on the owner and location I suppose." "Sensible answer. Are you always so sensible or do you think I could convince you to take a trip outside ho-humsville for an hour?" "Ho-humsville, is that near Gateway Park?" "Naughty me, my mind just slipped to somewhere else as if you had just asked me to park near a gateway, like I'm your schoolgirl sweetheart and you want to take advantage of me in some secluded spot. Maybe you would convince me to get in the backseat and then you would convince me to let you do something small, but clever? Eventually you would convince me to do all sorts of things. But, what am I thinking? That isn't what you asked at all! My mind goes on these erotic errands right out of the blue sometimes. Does yours?" "I think it's on one right now." "Oh, how delightful. It reminds me of daydreaming in my shop. Sometimes groups of girls come in with a bride-to-be looking for bridesmaid's dresses. I can end up with five or six girls in thongs or panties or damn near nothing at all slipping into one dress after another. It's enough to make me want to spend my lunch with a vibrator. Knowing how uninhibited they are in my store, I sometimes picture what those girls must do at the bachelorette party. The gag gifts alone must be something to behold, don't you think? Don't you also think, Hand, that we can make my party more fun than my lunch break at work?" "Do you have something special planned for later?" "Do I? Hmmm..." she trailed off. "Have you noticed that how much fun you have often depends on others?" She paused to let her eyes delve into mine. The almost constant swinging of her flirty little body stopped. "Would you like to join me for a dip in the hot tub after dinner?" "That will depend on my wife." "Don't worry" she said as she brought her hand up behind my ear and feathered her fingers through my hair. Pressing her warm body against mine, I felt her breath, a gentle breeze of late summer, blow across my neck as she whispered in my ear, "she can come too." My penis inflated with astonishing speed. Rather than embarrassing myself with a full grown branch in the middle of the main ballroom floor, I changed the subject by clearing my throat and asking, "Where's your husband? I'd like to thank him for inviting us here tonight." Marsha stepped back and twirled around on one heel like little girls do when they pretend to be ballerinas. "A ha! There he is over by the bar with his friend Ben flirting with those two girls" she announced while pointing across the room. I followed the line of sight from her extended arm and saw the backsides of Charles and Ben along with Wendy and Penelope who were laughing and pushing at the men at every opportunity to touch them. Watching her from a distance reminded me of how much I enjoyed looking at her. I could sit entranced for hours watching her do anything at all; grouting a tub, separating laundry, reading a newspaper. Her presence always absorbed all my senses from the perfumes she hid among her curves, the flowery aroma in her hair, the softness of her skin, and silkiness of her clothes, to the lilting aria of her speech. Penelope contrasted sharply with Wendy. While Wendy presented an elegant and sophisticated image draped in black with modest jewelry, Penelope bedazzled onlookers with brilliant bursts of red, fiery diamonds shimmering about her fingers and neck, and her skirt parted the full length of her leg leaving only guesses about the cut or even existence of panties. She wore dangling earrings off her slim lobes beneath platinum blonde hair that she wore up in a fantastic display of the skill of her hair stylist. I had to admit the emerald green of her eyes magically complemented her attire. Charles waved about his champagne flute with the easy charm of that most rare specimen among men who are comfortable enough to golf, dance, and probably nap while wearing a tuxedo. His deep tan from sun that also bleached his hair to a light brown added a weather worn ruggedness to his face not usually seen among men of leisure. The forty something years of his life had been good to him, though he had been good to himself. His slender frame looked like it could be broken in half by the linebacker build of his friend. Ben was young, perhaps twenty-six or twenty-eight. His black hair and fair skin had seen little of the sun Charles seemed to worship. He looked desperate to shed his tuxedo, like most men, but also appeared mature enough to stand in discomfort for hours, if it was socially expected of him. "Would you like a tour of the house Hand?" Marsha asked as she gingerly grasped my fingers. I agreed and she proceeded to show me a varied collection of art they had accumulated through years of auctions. Their collection included many genres from photography and Realists to sculpture and Surrealists. Their home too was most impressive. After wandering through its many rooms and alcoves, she brought me to a set of double doors. "This is where the party ends, for this is the south wing and home to our private rooms. We don't let the regular partygoers investigate where we spend most of our time." She led me through the double doors and down a long hall to the billiards room. She closed the doors behind us and turned on a dim overhead light. The walls held many bookcases filled with old editions. A large mirror occupied one wall while a mosaic filled the opposing wall. In the middle of the room rested the requisite pool table. She wandered over to the mirror to adjust her hair. "Do you play pool?" "No, not really. Charles sometimes entertains in here, but this room is more a repository for our book collection than an actively used game room. What do you think this is?" she asked as she looked closely at a spot on the mirror. I walked up and stood behind her, unavoidably drawing in her sweet scent. I couldn't see any smudge or flaw in the mirror. "I don't see anything." "Maybe this will help." She reached over to the edge of the mirror and turned off the light switch. It was a trick mirror. We could see through it to a bedroom. While my eyes adjusted to the lighting, Marsha unhooked the neck strap of her dress and let it fall to the floor. She wore no panties or bra, just a few token pieces of jewelry. She pressed her ass against me, urging my growing penis into her. When I looked through the mirror, I once again saw Charles' backside, but this time in its natural state as his buttocks swung forward with each thrust into Wendy. He held Wendy's naked hips while he fucked her on all fours like an animal. Penelope laid next to them on her back with her legs slung around each of Ben's arms who pounded into her from above. Wendy and I had discussed her being with another man while I watched before, but now that I witnessed it, I didn't know what to do. Her almost angelic beauty still enraptured me. There were few things in life as wonderful as watching her cum. "What...I...but, how?" I stammered. "We saw you two before, at the museum and hatched a little plan. Do you like it?" Her hands rubbed my crotch as she slid up and down me slowly. "I don't know what to think." "Then don't. Just enjoy me." Marsha guided me over to the pool table and hoisted herself onto it. She positioned herself so her head fell over the side of the table allowing her to see the action in the next room. "Give me your hand." I reached out to her and she took my hand forcing it to her pussy. "Give me your hand, I said." I got up on the table and inserted a finger into her. Her warmth and wetness invited further exploration. I looked up in time to see Ben cum while Penelope savored the pressure within her. He backed away from Penelope and began to remove the cum filled condom from his penis. She laid helplessly panting while exposing the blossom of her delectable pussy between her outstretched legs. Her breasts rose and fell above her flat muscular abdomen with each passing breath. Wendy started to alternately arch and flex her back in the familiar movement of her whole body orgasms. That was sufficient stimulus for Charles to unloaded into her. I could discern Charles' spent member was entombed in a shroud of latex. Wendy rolled over next to Penelope where they held hands and smiled to one another. Charles said something to them, but all I could hear were the moans of Marsha below me as I continued to push additional fingers into her. Penelope and Wendy responded. Charles made an additional comment through an enthusiastic smile before heading to the night stand. "Do you think Wendy would like to fuck me or does she prefer to be fucked?" I couldn't think of an answer. I had four fingers easing their way in and out of Marsha. She spread her arms out and shoved her hands into the two corner pockets of the table. Her legs wrapped around me as she said, "keep pushing into me. I want to feel all of you in me." My penis tingled. I wanted to pull it out and cum all over her, but I needed one hand to support my weight and my other hand was deep inside Marsha. I looked up to see Penelope unclasping Wendy's pearl necklace. She held it by the end and allowed it to snake down Wendy's front until it fell between her legs. Then she grabbed it by both ends and drew the necklace up and down against Wendy's delicate parts. Next I saw Charles remove a dildo and wand style vibrator from the night stand while Penelope played with Wendy. He tossed the vibrator on the bed and plugged it into a convenient outlet. As a final gesture, he offered them a small bottle. Penelope replaced the necklace around Wendy's neck before Wendy took the bottle and coated the dildo with its liquid contents. She proceeded to rub the dildo with her hand covering it with lubricant. I almost came as I watched Wendy insert the dildo into her friend. Charles and Ben each sat down in their own chairs ready to witness the erotic display of my wife and Penelope performing for them. I continued to push my fingers deeper into Marsha while I watched my wife slowly fuck Penelope with the dildo and kiss her way up Penelope's stomach. Wendy's mouth sucked Penelope's nipple while her tongue made several laps around its base. Wendy descended to Penelope's pussy and licked in unpredictable paths around the plunging dildo. She pleased her friend for several minutes with simultaneous fucking and licking. I mimicked Wendy by dropping to Marsha's pussy and licking around my hand. Marsha came with a drizzle of cum running between my fingers. I twisted my hand with the extra lubricant and eased my knuckles past her opening like a woman putting on solid bracelet until my hand massively filled her. She came again instantly from the tremendous penetration. I could feel every muscle inside her squeeze my hand with each passing wave of orgasm. Having pushed my hand into several women before, I was amazed at how quickly Marsha took to it. I imagined her screwing men of different sizes, sometimes more than one at the same time. She must have enjoyed a lot of sex, forceful sex with large cocks to so well prepare her for this moment. My eyes returned to Wendy in time to see the so far unused vibrator in Wendy's hand at the front of Penelope's opening. Wendy repositioned herself so that the two girls met crotch to crotch with intertwined legs. When she turned on the vibrator, both girls jumped at the force of its pulsating. Wendy pushed the dildo deep into Penelope using her own body until both their clits met the rumbling head of the vibrator. Their bodies wiggled and rode each other while the hand held tool worked its magic. Penelope came first, followed by Wendy, then another round for both of them. "Cum on me Hand." Marsha demanded. I carefully removed my hand from her and pulled off my pants. She grabbed my penis with both hands and pumped. My wife moved away from Penelope still holding the vibrator against the base of the dildo. She turned around and straddled Penelope who happily obliged her with ready tongue and lips. Wendy rolled the vibrator around Penelope while rolling her own hips around Penelope's face. Ben suddenly got up and approached the bed. Ben slipped on another condom and offered it to Wendy. Without so much as looking at him she opened her mouth to accept him. Charles followed suit by covering himself with another condom and moving in behind Wendy. Penelope dropped her head back on the mattress giving Charles the room he needed to shove his manhood back into Wendy. The two men fucked Wendy at both ends while Penelope continued to cum from the constant attention of the vibrator on her clitoris. Wendy wasn't capable of concentrating on Ben's dick, but Charles screwed with such reckless abandon that he came almost immediately. When Charles backed away, Wendy discarded the vibrator allowing Penelope the chance to recover. Ben, still determined to cum, flipped Wendy over and pressed one of her legs against his shoulder. He entered her with her legs split apart like opened scissors. "Do you want to fuck me the way he is fucking your wife?" "I want to fuck you my own way. I want to fuck you while you go down on Wendy." "You have to cum on me first." I couldn't hold on any longer and came on her breasts and across her belly. She massaged the sticky gel into her skin. Charles and Penelope dressed while Ben finished. He kept fucking Wendy until Charles and Penelope were completely dressed. Charles left the room. Marsha and I began dressing to make our reappearance. I watched Wendy reach down and feel Ben's hairy muscular chest. Her fingers caressed his pubic hair. She smiled at him, pleasing herself with the feel of her lover as he thrusted. In an inspired moment, Penelope grabbed the vibrator, turned it on, and held it to Wendy's pussy. Both Wendy and Ben felt it hit them like a rock. Wendy came again, red-faced, practically hyperventilating, until Ben unleashed himself. Marsha slid her dress back on and headed for the door. "Are you ready?" "Do I look like I just came on the hostess?" "You look like you'd like to again" she said with a giggle. We ventured out into the hall and touched up each other's appearance as if we were a freshly groomed couple primping one another before a night out on the town. As we finished, Wendy and Ben entered the hall from the bedroom door. Wendy saw me in the hall with Marsha and made her way down to me. Marsha distanced herself from me briefly so I could speak with Wendy. When Wendy reached me she furtively spoke in a hushed tone, "I've got to tell you something." "Yes?" I asked innocently. "First of all, you know how much I love you." "More than any one man deserves." "I hope you won't be angry and if you are that you'll be able to forgive me. It's not love or some serious affair or anything, but I just had a fling. It was safe and lovely. I wish you could have been there. I wanted you there." "I was. I saw the whole thing through a fake mirror." "You saw us!" "Yes, and as long as we are confessing, I was just playing around with Marsha, the woman you just saw me with." We were always honest with one another. We did not have to tell each other, we wanted to. Most people would have said nothing, but we told each other everything and that is what made us different. I took up both her hands and shared a moment in her eyes. "I love you without limitation, without owning you, and without controlling you. I enjoy watching you have pleasure as much as you enjoy receiving it. I ask only to share it with you. That you promise to make each new experience something we share, so we will always grow together and never apart. In return, I promise the same to you." Art Lovers 12th March 1867 Dear Miss Abercrombie, I beg your forgiveness for my being so bold as to contact you without our being formally introduced, but I feel driven to express my profound admiration for you. For some time I have observed you each Thursday alighting from your carriage at the address of Mistress Cranham's Music Academy, but fear it is above my station to address you directly. Please do not feel alarmed, since I assure you I offer no threat to your wellbeing, my only motive being to extend my deepest respect. Your devoted admirer, Augustus James. * 19th March 1867 Dear Mr. James, I must confess to having been somewhat taken aback at receiving a communication from a total stranger, but for now I accept your assurance that you mean me no harm. Your expressions of admiration, however, I must allow are somewhat flattering, for in truth it is every maiden's secret dream to have an unknown admirer. Alas I feel that this must remain so since I have no knowledge of your identity, and find myself at a loss to determine how you discovered my name. With Respect, Constance Abercrombie. * 26th March 1867 Dear Miss Abercrombie, It was with great lifting of my spirits that I received your gracious reply, which I confess was far beyond anything I had hoped for. With regard to my means of discovering your name, the method was quite simple. I merely offered a modest bribe to a servant in Mistress Cranham's employ. You will I am sure, understand that I feel obliged to withhold the identity of my informant. Having determined your name, I simply paid a penny to an urchin to place my earlier missive on the seat of your carriage where I was sure you would find it. As to myself, I am a poor, although not totally penniless artist, existing on a modest stipend from an indulgent grandfather, who is waiting patiently for me to recover from that which he perceives as my fleeting obsession with my art. I have a small studio overlooking the Academy, and first espied you from my window some months past. Since that day I have made it my weekly duty to breathlessly await your arrival, but until recently I have lacked the courage to make my existence known to the most wondrous vision I have beheld in all of my twenty years. Your even more devoted admirer, Augustus James. * 2nd April 1867 Mr. James, I do declare that such flattery must surely be designed to turn the head of even the most stern of ladies. It must be acknowledged that since we are after all living in the nineteenth century, such forwardness is becoming more commonplace in our modern society. However, I must warn you sir, that these wiles have very little effect upon me. Now that you have disclosed who you are, I must say that I have a recollection of a young man loitering outside a building which, I am given to believe, houses a number of artists' studios and apartments, and will allow that if you are indeed he, I find your countenance not altogether displeasing. Constance Abercrombie. * 9th April 1867 Miss Abercrombie, It is with great contrition that I accept your rebuke, and humbly beg your forgiveness for any offence caused, however unintended. I will not presume to trouble you further. Augustus James. * 16th April 1867 Augustus Dear, Please be assured that my remarks were merely an observation, and were by no means intended as a rebuke. I have come to quite look forward to our weekly exchanges, and feel it would be a pity should they cease over something so trivial as a misunderstanding. I will look for you on my next visit to the Academy. In friendship, Constance. * 23rd April 1867 Sweet Constance, Your wave to me as you alighted from your carriage has set the beating of my heart to music, and the radiance of your smile provided the words. I feared that I had lost you, but now my life is a song. Splendid news. I have been commissioned by a man of great wealth to depict his good wife on canvas. Should he be pleased with my work, then it may lead to greater things for my vocation, and demonstrate to my grandfather that I am not without ability. Now that you have reaffirmed your friendship, my life could not be more rosy. Affectionately, Augustus. * 30th April 1867 My Dear friend, What wonderful news indeed. I applaud you. Your chosen calling, has me quite intrigued, since it has not until now been my fate to cross paths with one who espouses the Bohemian lifestyle. Mayhap you will permit me to visit your studio one day when my lesson at the Academy is concluded? Your friend, Constance. * 7th May 1867 Dear, Dear Constance, My heart bursts with pride at the prospect of you honouring my humble workplace with your presence. Dare I hope that some day you will grant me the further honour of permitting me to commit your portrait to canvas? Be your answer aye or nay, I will be pleased to receive you following your next lesson. Excitedly yours, Augustus. * 14th May 1867 Augustus, Thank you for allowing me to see inside your studio. It was an interesting visit, and judging by those works on view I feel you are not without talent. However I can only assume that your passions were inflamed by the many portraits of females in varying states of deshabille. Why else would you presume, after such brief acquaintance, to press your lips to mine on parting as though I were some common harlot? As to the matter of my sitting for you, I do not believe that I could disport myself in the manner to which your works suggest you are predisposed, especially if by my doing so your senses should become inflamed beyond your control. Constance. * 21st May 1867 Oh, Constance, Once again I appear to have inadvertently incurred your wrath. I can only assure you that my act was purely one of deep affection. Whilst confessing ignorance of the customs of the gentry, I hasten to assure you that amongst those of my own class, actions such as mine are considered perfectly normal when greeting or farewelling ones friends. Since this practice clearly offends you, perhaps it will be better that we never meet again, although it pains my heart to say so. Smitten as I am I can give no promise that I would not again attempt to taste the sweetness of your divine lips. I am also aghast that you should suggest that I might regard such a sweet and perfect lady as yourself as a harlot. Only the basest and most vulgar of men would kiss the lips of creatures of that calling, since those very lips are commonly applied in such a manner that I will not offend your sensibilities by describing. With regard to my art, never have I painted a subject in a manner of which I have not been certain they would ultimately approve on viewing the completed work. Since I deduce it to be in accordance with your wishes, I shall have to content myself with once again admiring you from a distance. Thank you for our too brief friendship. Still devotedly yours, Augustus. * 28th May 1867 Dear Augustus, Perhaps in my surprise I have judged you too hastily and too harshly. I too must confess to being somewhat unworldly and therefore ignorant of the accepted practices of those in less fortunate circumstances than myself. Please let us not end our budding friendship upon such a note. In hindsight the explanations offered in your last communication do of course make perfect sense, and if I am honest with myself I am compelled to admit that the touch of your lips upon mine was not unpleasant. Next Thursday being the occasion of my eighteenth birthday, I shall not be attending the Academy for my customary music lesson. However, if you still so desire that I sit for you, I shall be pleased to present myself at your studio at ten o'clock in the forenoon of this coming Tuesday, being the second day of June. Please do not embarrass me by assuming that my offer is an invitation to repeat your previous behaviour. Still your friend, Constance. * 3rd June 1867 Augustus, You really are an incorrigible rascal! Today I had occasion to visit the Academy in order to retrieve a manuscript that I had forgotten. Eager to ascertain what progress if any you have made on my portrait, I visited your studio. Alas, you were not in attendance, and so I prevailed upon the caretaker of the building to grant me access, that I may await your arrival. Imagine then my astonishment to discover that, in one of your preliminary sketches, you depict me as having revealed far more of my bosom than was truly the case. My astonishment was, I confess, mingled with amusement when I realised that you had credited me with greater endowment than I possess. Such mischief cannot be allowed to pass unremarked, so I shall return on Tuesday next in order to ensure that you correct these inaccuracies. Whatever am I to do with you? Constance. * 9th June 1867 Augustus Dear, My oh my, you really are a most persuasive scamp. I cannot credit that you contrived to convince me that, in the interests of strict accuracy, I should not only remove my outer garments that you may see me in only my pantaloons and corset, but that I should also untie my bodice to permit you to ascertain the true size and form of my bosom. Yet both of these things I did, and did willingly, such is my trust in you to conduct yourself in an appropriate manner. It is plain to see how, although I refuse to do likewise, you were able to persuade others to allow you to portray them on canvas in the most intimate detail. Nor can I be angry that you once again pressed your lips to mine, since in truth I not only desired, but in no small part provoked such action. You really are becoming most dear to me, and I hope to visit briefly after my lesson on Thursday. With affection, Your Constance * 11th June 1867 Goodness me Augustus, How swiftly events have progressed. From the moment you greeted me with a tender kiss I knew that I was yours. I stood as if mesmerised, permitting you to unveil my bosom, not for your palette, but for your eyes, hands and yes, for your lips. The fires your caresses and kisses ignited made me not only powerless but also unwilling to resist as you removed first my gown, and then my pantaloons, exposing me completely to your will. The fires blazed higher when you softly touched me in that most secret of places, which I recall from my boarding school being referred to as 'quim' or more vulgarly 'cunny'. I confess that I find both of these terms wickedly exciting, more so than 'teats' or 'tits', which I am sure you are aware are common expressions when referring to what are more delicately called bosoms or breasts. How terribly vampish you must think me! But I digress. As your exploring fingers discovered that which is named in educational tomes as the clitoris, (in boarding school we girls knew it as the 'tiny man in a boat', although I was not certain of the reason for such a nomenclature) great trembling shook my burning loins, heralding pleasures yet to come. Eagerly I beheld for the first time a man's finest possession, and burning with desire I avidly took it in my hand, and guided it to my moistening slit, wanting so desperately for this wonderful organ to be the urgent instrument of my defloration. Oh what bliss! What joy! What ecstasy! The sheer thrilling power of your driving loins as I so wantonly surrendered my virtue to the thrusting of your formidable member. What delicious tremors of passion were transmitted to my quivering loins by that superb stick! With what gleeful satisfaction did I board my carriage for my journey home, knowing that my darling Augustus had deposited his precious seed deep within me. Already I grow impatient for our next meeting, although it is my suspicion that there will be more lying than sitting, and you will dip your brush repeatedly into my willing palette. Adoringly Yours Constance. * 16th June 1867 My dearest, sweetest Love What a most excellent day this has been. The previously unknown freedom of movement afforded a body unencumbered by heavy skirts and tightly restricting bodices! The delight in frolicking unadorned and readily available for the lustiest of poking by one's paramour. The sweet ecstasy as your lips seek my teats (or tits, whichever expression pleases you most). The heavenly pleasures of having your glorious pole thrust in and out of my burning quim time after time throughout the day until my fires are finally quelled. All of these things are firmly etched into my memory, and alas we must be content with memories, since today must be our last intimate encounter for some time. This evening Papa informed me that I am to travel with Mama to our country estate until summer is ended, and that we depart on Friday morn. Our customary meeting after my weekly music lesson will take place, so we will be able to say our farewells, but I fear we must be very proper since I will be accompanied by my cousin Charlotte. Oh, my dear, dear Augustus, how am I to endure without you? I am sure my heart will break. I promise I will write often so you will not miss me too much. Your Adoring Constance. * 20th June 1867 Well my Love, As you may gather, I have arrived safe and well, after an arduous and lonely journey. I know it must sound terrible of me to speak of being lonely in the company of Dear Mama, but since all of my thoughts were of you, and the excitement we could be sharing, it was difficult to find comfort in her presence. How painful it was to be with you for our farewells, yet be unable to share even the briefest of kisses or caresses without Charlotte making assumptions. Oh my Dear, how will I ever endure this separation when already my heart and my loins ache for you? I am so sad, Constance. * 24th June 1867 Sweet Constance, How fortunate I am to have my work to distract me from the desolation of being apart from my precious jewel. Without my art I am sure my life would be meaningless now that we are no longer together. Today I received a most unexpected visitor in the person of non other than your cousin Charlotte. Oh my Dear, what a sorry figure this poor woman cut. It seems, or so she confided, her dastardly husband has been disgracefully neglectful, particularly within the confines of the marital chamber. According to her narrative, at her times of greatest need, the scoundrel was rendered incapable of even the simplest of deeds, either by reason of being in his cups, or by having come directly from the bedchamber of one of his many mistresses. I placed a comforting arm around this miserable creature, and as her tale drew to a conclusion, her increasing despair made it clear where my duty lay. As I laid my palm gently against the swell of her breast, my estimation of her need for solace was proven correct. Rising to her feet, she unhesitatingly removed her gown and stood before me garbed only in her pantaloons and the tiniest of corsets which did nothing to conceal her trembling globes. In an attempt to calm her distress I nuzzled her hard little buds as my fingers worked to unlace her corset, which I dropped to the floor before turning my attention to the waist tie of her pantaloons. This garment quickly joined her corset, and she stood before me dressed as Mother Nature had made her. Here I must declare that for an older woman of at least twenty five years, your cousin has retained a most comely figure, which leaves me at a loss to understand the reason for her being so cruelly neglected. Her large creamy teats with their erect ruby tips stood out firm and proud, contrasting in my mind with your delicate rosebud tipped orbs which entrance me so. Below a rounded belly her neatly trimmed bush and easily discernable slit nestled between nicely formed thighs. These plump lower lips were as a magnet to my fingers, and after some gentle caresses her thighs parted permitting greater freedom of access to that delicate flower which you have named "Man in a boat". Her need by this time was even more pronounced, for her bosom rose and fell rapidly with her deep uneven breathing. Not wishing to prolong this poor woman's suffering any more than necessary, I laid her down and quickly disrobing I positioned myself between her widespread thighs. Her legs encircled my hips, and her sigh of gratitude as my hard rod spiked her moist quim, told me that my kindness was not unappreciated. Marital deprivation has clearly made of her a most enthusiastic poke, for she repeatedly raised her hips to meet me, tightening certain muscles around my thrusting shaft. Her trembling commenced anew, becoming increasingly vigorous as she pulled my head to her quivering teats. My lips upon her nubs elicited from her great moans of relief, entreating me to drive my pole deeper and harder in and out of her tight aperture, until finally her arms tightened around me as my juices flowed into the dark wet recesses of her tunnel. For long moments after I withdrew Charlotte lay panting, and as I watched my spend seeping from her now contented slit, I experienced that warm inner feeling that comes from having eased the suffering of a fellow human being. This unfortunate woman's plight, Dear Constance, has served to show me what you, my sweet Darling must be enduring. How I long for summer's end, so that once again we can be joined. Your very own Augustus. * 29th June 1867 My Dear wonderful Augustus, Your last letter shows me what a compassionate man you are, and how well you comprehend the needs of a woman. I know now that you will understand when I tell you that, reading your intimate description of your dealings with dear cousin Charlotte, I became excited to the point where I was driven to seek out our coachman, and direct him to extinguish the fires that you unwittingly ignited within me. Although he is inclined to be somewhat uncouth at times, and being at least thirty years old, irritatingly referred to me as "a bit of young stuff", I overlooked these faults provided he provided the service I required, since it is not part of his normal duties. I have to say that he proved more than adequate in that respect, and afterwards I was able to sleep without tossing and turning with unsatisfied need. Oh, Augustus, how I wish you were here. Constance. * 1st July 1867 Constance my Dear, How relieved I was to hear that you have discovered a way of having your needs attended to. I am pleased to report that your cousin Charlotte appears to have recovered somewhat from her melancholy. She visited today in almost a gay mood, and the door had scarcely closed behind her before she divested herself of her gown. To my great astonishment she was wearing neither corset nor pantaloons, and she placed both of my hands upon her exposed tits as she kissed me fully and passionately, her tongue seeking mine in what has been termed the French style. I made free with these generous mounds, employing both lips and hands, and in good time she investigated with her palm, ascertaining that I was indeed in a state of preparedness, before laying herself down to offer her quim for my attention. Her ardour has, if anything, increased since that first time we shared our bodies, for she was most demanding, begging me first to squeeze her teats and suck her ruby nubs, and then to poke her with as much force as I could muster. As you may have observed, it is not usually my way to manhandle a lady in such a rough manner, but I confess that on this occasion the thought excited me, and I drove my tool into her hole without first ensuring that it was indeed suitably prepared to receive my thrusts. I need not have been concerned however, for directly ingress was achieved, she raised her hips, and enfolding me in her arms and legs, demanded that I poke her harder and faster. In what seemed no time at she all emitted a loud wail of passion, and her body shook as her intense climax deprived her of all conscious control. Art Lovers Please understand, my Love, that I have no wish to insult your dear cousin, since she is above all a most attractive and endearing person, but even as I sucked her teats and spilled my seed within her, the face my mind was seeing was yours. This enforced separation is indeed most distressing. Please hurry home, Augustus. * 7th July 1867 Please Augustus my Love, do not think me a harlot, but last night I performed that action which you have attributed to those women who follow that low profession. For all of his coarseness, this coachman is most experienced, and I am learning much under his diligent tutelage. Two nights ago he tried to persuade me to take position upon hands and knees, so that he might mount me as a dog would a bitch. Of course I resisted this suggestion, but he responded by manipulating my clitoris, thus maintaining my state of excitement, and at the same time refusing to poke me in any fashion other than that which he desired. Despite my resolve, my need became so great that I finally complied. Oh, my dear, how can I tell you what a superb position this is? I can barely wait until I can try this with you! The depth of penetration! The way his eggs impacted my burning clitoris with each thrust! The fashion and ease with which he was able to fondle my teats as his pole ravished my cunny! I am loath to admit it, and please my Sweet, I beg you not to take this in any disparaging manner, but not even with the man I love so dearly have I experienced such intensity of climax. My juices flowed freely down my quaking thighs long minutes before he poured his seed into my dripping slit. Now to the act I mentioned at the beginning of this letter. Last night I was lying as Mother Nature made me on the rough cot in the coach house, and he was toying idly with my tits as I stroked his member. I must admit to finding this form of before play a most pleasing way of preparing for the ultimate act, and my eyes were closed so that I might better enjoy it. His lips fastened on to the hard tip of one trembling breast, and he began to suck mightily as though it was his intention to consume it in its entirety. Tiny gasps escaped me, and he moved his hand over my belly and separated my lower lips with his fingers. I held my breath in anticipation, but to my great dismay he removed his mouth from my teat. I prepared to voice my protest, when I suddenly experienced a new sensation as he spread my cunny wide and blew gently upon my love bud. Oh Augustus, the joy of feeling his hot breath directed to such a secret place was more than mere words can convey. Suddenly I gasped with surprise as he poked out his tongue and commenced a vigorous licking of my clitoris. I had never imagined that such an act could occur, but before I could give it much thought my loins began to shake in approaching climax. His questing tongue dipped into what he liked to call my honey pot, and as I drew in a gasping breath, he suddenly thrust his throbbing tool into my open mouth. My first reaction was to recoil from what he so clearly desired, but as his mouth was giving me so much pleasure, I thought it only fair that I should at least attempt to do likewise. After the initial shock, I discovered that the feel of his rod in my mouth was really quite pleasant, and I slid my lips back and forth, taking him as deeply as I dared, before withdrawing to lick the bulbous tip. By this time my climax had become long and continuous, and as I sucked I balanced his eggs carefully in my cupped palm. My actions were obviously to his pleasing, for his moans began to match my own, and after a few moments his spend flooded my mouth in such amount that I was compelled to either swallow or choke. To my great surprise I found that the taste was neither sweet nor sour, nor was it entirely unpleasant, and so it was with more than a little enthusiasm that I sucked until his organ could give no more. So good or ill, Augustus, there you have it. I have performed that deed, and I must tell you that I shall again and again, for not only did I enjoy it immensely, but it has become my fervent belief that a man's spend, which is after all the very seed from which all human life springs, should not go unappreciated wherever it is received. I do hope you will not think too badly of me, Yours ever, Constance. * 14th July 1867 My Darling Constance, How can I ever think ill of you? In certain circumstances, that which you have described can be the most tender of acts. I made mention of the undesirability of kissing harlots only because those creatures are commonly ridden with the pox. Since they indiscriminately perform all manner of deeds, not from affection nor even honest lust, but solely for monetary gain, they frequently spread their foul malaise to their unsuspecting clientele. I had no sooner finished reading your letter, than Charlotte arrived, and on this occasion that increasingly mischievous woman was garbed only in an all concealing cloak, which she immediately discarded to reveal that she was indeed prepared for action. She wasted not a second in divesting me of my shirt and breeches, and closed her tiny hand around my stiffening manhood. Without disclosing the source of my suggestion, I mentioned that position about which you expressed much enthusiasm, and I must say she took to the idea as a duck takes to water. Quickly assuming the required pose, she begged me to mount her without delay, and as my fingers parted her lower lips I was gratified to discover that already her cunny was leaking profusely. I entered her with a single thrust, and she wailed loudly as my rod reached places that she declared had never before been explored, least of all by her husband, whom she had once described as being less well endowed than a mouse, although I am sure that this was an exaggeration, since how else could he have retained the interest of his many mistresses? But be that as it may. Your cousin's wails increased in volume and passion as I reached forward to squeeze her dangling teats, twisting and tugging at their stiffened nubs in just the manner that I have learned that she most enjoys, whilst my hard member carried out its assigned task inside her quim. Pushing back against me, she pressed her clitoris to my eggs, shuddering greatly in approaching climax, and almost prompting me to spill my seed there and then, but I exerted my will and held back, determined to give her the lusty poking she desired. The afternoon passed in an orgy of passion, broken only by periods of rest to allow my poor overworked tool to recover, ready for the next carnal encounter. Towards evening, as we lay entwined I made mention of that deed you and I have discussed at length. In reply she pressed her teats around my shaft, working it back to all of its rigid glory, then she pushed her ample globes up close to her chin so that the tip of my rod could dip into her mouth at the end of each thrust. When she adjudged that I was ready, she released my organ from its soft confinement and took it fully between her lips, sucking and licking until at last my spend cascaded down her throat. Oh my sweet, sweet Constance, what a wondrous experience that was, and I am most eager to repeat it with you upon your return. Please tell me that I will not have to wait much longer. Lovingly yours, Augustus. * 21st July 1867 My Dearest, Good news indeed! My country sojourn is almost at an end, and I should be within the circle of your arms within the week. It must needs be a week of abstention for me for that time is upon me when intimacy should be avoided, but I welcome the opportunity to gain strength for our reunion. The last weeks have passed unbearably slowly but they have not been wasted, for I have learned many small ways in which to make you extremely happy when we are alone. Our separation has been most painful, but I have been able to find ways to make it less so. Each night in the coach house after supper, as that coarse fellow was quelling the fires that my thoughts of you ignited within me, in my heart it was always your fine weapon that split my quim. They were your soft lips on my heaving tits, your hips around which my trembling legs were so tightly wrapped at the peak of climax, and your thick cream which I swallowed so eagerly. In these ways, my Love, I have been able to keep my loneliness at bay, and when we are reunited next week you must be well prepared, for after many days of forced deprivation my needs will be great, and my eager cunny most demanding. Until next week My Love, As Always, Your Constance.