ARABELLA by Anonymous

heavy, spumed its last as we lay down. Being between them, I rubbed my thighs sensuously against theirs. Moving our fingers across to one another, Pearl and I twiddled each other's spermy split. Not a word was said. We lay in such beatitude as follows a fair and lusty bout, our breathing coming softly.
    Visions of Elaine danced through my mind. Most oddly I felt a certain guilt that she had not been there, or—if not that—then that I was. How strangely the mind works in such moments. Yet I did not care. The haze of satisfaction was upon me. I could have taken another prick and another, and knew it well. Pearl stirred and pushed the covers down with her feet. Her movements were charmingly petulant and almost sleepy. Being then of one mind we all ruffled ourselves between the sheets and slept the sleep of love. A full hour passed before we stirred. I awoke to find myself pressed between them, my uncle's penis rampant against the hot cheeks of my bottom. Feeling around me by instinct for it, Pearl laughed as though to admonish me.
    “He must conserve his forces. Oh, my mouth is dry. Let us get up and call for some lemonade,” she decreed. This we did, staring at each other's unclothed bodies with a certain curiosity. My uncle's balls were full and pendant. They promised well for the night.
    Having dressed—which was a simple enough matter for I wore only a silk chemise and gown over my corset—I fretted anew about Elaine and said that I had best go and see to her. I saw then to my hair, as did Pearl.
    “Oh, she will come to it soon enough,” said Pearl, adding that we were to the Comte's house after dinner and that Elaine would not be permitted any hesitations there. Even so, I could not leave her in isolation and so excused myself, this being done as politely as if we had been upon any normal social occasion. Such niceties ever please me. Pearl was clearly delighted with my comportment.
    Elaine I found huddled up on the bed, as I expected to.
    “Oh, what have you been at?” she asked crossly. Evidently she had slept, for her hair was all array and her skirt up. I suspected something of that and, before she could rise, threw myself merrily upon her and reached my hand so far up her thighs until I could feel her quim. There was such a stickiness there that I knew well what she had been about.
    “You have enjoyed yourself,” said I.
    “But not as much as you, I am sure,” she replied pettishly. Blushing deeply, she pushed my hand away, got off the bed and went to her dressing table. Determined to break her mood, I bent over her from behind and, sliding my arms beneath hers, cupped her breasts.
    “What naughty thoughts did you have?” I asked, whereat she had the grace to giggle.
    “None—and you have not told me what you were doing. I suppose you were conversing again,” she said sarcastically. I turned her face—moving my free hand all about over and beneath her proud titties—and kissed her. She felt my fervour, my affection. Her lips returned the compliment.
    “Yes, it may be called that,” I murmured. I had no cause to blush, nor she. “It was nice to have it in your bottom, was it not?” I asked", my lips continuing to brush her own while her neck was turned about to me.
    “No,” she said softly, but I knew the word not to be taken at its face value nor indeed any value. I told her then what I had heard the Madame say to Pearl before we were put over the bars. At that, Elaine's hand clutched mine and held it over her left breast.
    “Is that really true?” she asked.
    “Of course. Why else do you think it was done? Phillippe's prick was divinely formed to open up our furrows so that the larger ones might follow. It tingled me at first, but it was nice. I am sure you felt the same.”
    “Oh, then have you...?”she asked, referring of course to my absence and well imagining, I am sure, that her Papa had breached the same route.
    “You have not told me whether you liked it or not,” I countered.