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Introduction:

Seeking a new residence leads to a beneficial arrangement.
Seeking a new residence.

I had been back in the metropolis for barely a week when bad news arrived, my dear sister had it seemed been distracted by one of dubious morals. Therefore it behoved me to acquire not just temporary lodgings but a more permanent abode.

My last trip abroad had been pleasantly lucrative but with that contemptible frog devouring upstart Bonaparte roaming around the continent, it seemed to me that a spell in good old Albion seemed to be desirous.

I found a suitable property at Morton Street after very little investigation and sought out the seller.

She, for it was a she, was very welcoming, somewhat more elderly than I but very pleasant. Pleasantly rounded, well fed, not a bean pole.

“I find it too large now my dear Albert has left me,” she explained as she showed me around.

It ran to four levels in all from cellar to servants rooms in the attick spaces.

“Done a runner has he?” I asked crudely.

“Upstairs,” she said, “Or down to Hades more likely the old skin flint, he passed away.”

“I am sorry,” I averred.

“Like everyone else,” she said, “Except me, bloody skivvy I was.”

“Oh,” I said, staring at her ample breasts, “That’s so unfair.”

“Especially with tits like mine,” she said as she followed my gaze.

“Indeed,” I said.

“They gets in the way when cleaning but the gentlemen like them,” she suggested.

“Very much,” I agreed.

“Would you like a proper look,” she said, “I like to let them flop out when no ones here.”

~

“Be my guest,” I agreed and she released her magnificent pair from the restricting dress.

“Magnificent!” I agreed.

“How would you like to wrap you lips round my nips?” she offered.

“Very much,” I agreed, “But beware, if roused I may require relief and it is some considerable time since I was last releveled so my preference would be to upend you and plough you.”

“Up end me, I’m half as big again as you, I should more like upend you,” She laughed.

We were in the parlour now, “In that case,” I declared as she sat on the couch. I knelt before her and began to suckle her breasts. Her nipples rose like little doggies snouts and she moaned, very soon she was shuffling down her pantaloons and promptly loosed my belt.

My trews fell to the floor as my member was unleashed. Rampant and all too ready too expell. Seeing this she promptly lofted her skirts and shuffled forward on the seat, whereupon she grasped my member and gently guided him towards and then between her wanton moistened slot and then into her womb entry and then finally after a number of thrusts he was deep inside her.

“I likes a man with a good squirt,” she said, “My husband was useless and me hearth brush don’t squirt if you get my meaning.”

“I do indeed madam,” I explained as I released my passion freely and forcefully within her.

She gasped and howled joyously as we conjoined.

“You needed that,” she observed, “Quite a time since you last expelled you said, are you sated now?”

“Indeed madam, for the present.” I admitted.

“If you hadn’t been so long in abstinence you’d never have ploughed me would you?” she asked, “You would have run a mile.”

“That is unfair madam,” I retorted.

“No it is not,” she replied, “But I too have to take what is there, not what I might wish for, not that I could have wished for a more energetic and entirely satisfying display.”

“Indeed, and now to business, I find the premises quite suitable but the price?” I explained.

“Well,” she said, “Perhaps we could negotiate, shall we say I throw in the furnishings, or if you choose not to complete I could have a word with the magistrate, say you forced me.”

“I should have seen that coming,” I agreed, “Why are you selling?”

“My husband had mortgaged the property and I cannot otherwise repay the lender,” she said with apparent honesty.

“And where shall you go?” I asked.

“We shall go to my sister,” she said.

“We?” I asked.

“Myself and my daughter Monica,” she explained, “She is twenty but is afflicted with the Greek disease.”

“From the island of Lesbos?” I enquired.

“Are you familiar sir?” she asked.

“Good lord yes,” I agreed, “Women consorting without men, is that that to which you allure?” ,

“Yes indeed that exactly sir,” she explained.

“Why I was trading the Agean last Spring, they have them perform like circus animals, instead of breaking them like civilized folk.”

“Yes, that’s what my Monica needs sir, breaking sir, that’s what she needs,” she explained.

“Not brutally, tenderly,” I explained, “Have one girl rouse the second and when she is in her throes swiftly substitute a gentleman, a rampant one and cork her firmly and seed her.”

“Exactly sir,” she said.

“The Arabs tie theirs up and hold their legs apart with tent poles and ropes if they will not submit,” I explained, “But their ways are bizarre, they divorce and remarry, and have droves of wives and all such perversions.”

“Would you cork my Monica sir?” she asked.

“What?” I demanded.

“Well you corked me right enough,” she said, “No courtship, no pleasantries.”

“Indeed, but we were of one mind,” I explained.

“But what about my Monica,” she said, “It will ruin her life this aberration, she needs a good corking don’t you see.”

“I really feel this conversation has reached a conclusion madam,” I averred, “Shall we shake on our agreement and make arrangements for the deeds to be drawn up.”

That would have been an end except Monica chose that moment to arrive home.

“Mother!” she exclaimed, “Why have you your tits out?”

“It is her house so she may do as she wishes,” I offered.

“You corked her didn’t you,” she snapped, “You filthy beast.”

“Monica don’t be so rude,” the mother chided, “He has a lovely cock.”

“Oh Mother please, I find nothing attractive in the male form,” Monica insisted.

“I take it you are virgo intacto?” I enquired.

“Oh no, she’s had all sorts up her, just not a cock,” her mother explained, “Fingers, the hearth brush handle, poor girl is at it constantly, can’t get satisfaction. “Get a bloke” I says but she won’t.”

“How do you know you don’t like cock if you haven’t had one?” I asked, “You must have had advances, you are quite comely.”

“Comely, she’s like a bean pole,” he mother sighed, “She never had my tits and that’s a .”

“Well I’d cork her,” I averred, “And come back for seconds.”

“Well you will never get the chance” she insisted.

“I have every chance,” I explained, “I am stronger and quicker than you and your mother would help so why don’t I upend you here and now.”

“I have no idea, except I should have you arrested,” she replied.

“But the deed would be done,” I pointed out, “You would be better advised to please me and have me support you if you should straight way fall for a child.”

“Mother!” she protested, “You cannot be serious.”

“Well if she is I shall be happy to oblige,” I agreed, for how many men would forgo the chance of a gallop with a comly maid.

“Then cork her sir, divert her from the road to ruin.” the mother insisted.

“Oh no,” the wench replied and she bolted from the room, unwisely she ran for her room, I followed and was in before she could bolt the door.

She fell face first onto her bed, I lofted her skirts to reveal a comely rump. Her silk pantaloons slid down at the first touch and with my trews down my member rammed into her slot. I doubt it entered above a quarter of an inch. It was as if her slot was stitched closed, the lips like stone, It was like trying to cork a marble statue. So different to the matron I had corked not an hour since.

“Oh playing hard to get are we,” I queried. My hands sought her breasts and my lips sought her neck, her ears, her cheeks. Slowly her nipples hardened, her resolve crumbled and choosing my moment I once again charged her unyielding slot. Half an inch, and inch, two inches and then joyously I was entirely sheathed.

“See, it is not unpleasant is it,” I whispered.

“It hurts, I hate you.” she hissed so I thrust harder. “Oh,” she gasped, “Oh!” Her resolve crumbled as her orgasm began.

“That’s it, my angel, enjoy the moment,” I said tenderly, “Share the joy and if you are very good I shall return for more.”

“Bastard,” she replied and quite suddenly I was releasing my seed inside her.

“Your first time?” I restated.

“My only time, first last only,” she replied.

“I think not,” I explained, “I shall sleep alongside you this night and conjoin freely.”

“I shall tell the magistrate,” she threatened.

“Tell him what,” the mother queried, “Why all that would result in is this gentleman being ordered to make you an offer of marriage.”

“Oh my lord,” she protested.

“Not that I have” I admitted, “But you’re a comely wench, I spend much time abroad, so it would be convenient for me to have a wench to mount when I am home, bear my children and when I am absent to sate her needs with fellow ladies.”

“Oh Monica, that would be perfect!” the mother declared.

“No, It’s horrible.” Monica insisted. She had been dabbing herself, trying to wipe away any trace of my seed but finally turned to face me .

I grasped her cheeks in my hands and raped her mouth with my tongue. My member at half mast was flailing and stiffening. Suddenly a firm hand grasped it and aimed it back at Monica’s slot.

“Mother!” she protested as her own mother had fed my cock into the daughters womb.

It slid in easily with the minimum of effort. She resigned herself to her fate and tried to stifle any indications that she enjoyed the experience.

I returned two days later as owner, “Oh I thought we agreed two weeks?” the mother exclaimed.

“To move out, why move out?” I asked, “You may remain if you wish, on condition that I my mount either or both of you as I please and you bare your chest in my presence and you dear Monica wear naught but a corset and leggings when in my presence.”

“Oh that is so generous sir!” the mother crowed.

“And what am I to be to you,” Monica demanded.

“My whore my dear,” I suggested, “Perhaps you could have your special friend to stay, as long as I may sample her in her turn, variety is the spice of life.”

“Never!” Monica protested.

Her mother was quite exasperated, “Do you really wish to live with your aunt when for a small sacrifice we may live here quite comfortably?”

“No, Yes, I don’t know,” she replied.

“She is coming around sir,” the mother explained, “It is a shock to the system to be corked and seeded.”

“Indeed,” I agreed, “And on that theme Monica, will you come to bed please, I have needs.”

“If I must,” she agreed rolling her eyes but I knew she was pleased I had chosen her over her mother.

To be continued?
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