Date: Fri, 8 Mar 2002 09:52:59 -0800 (PST) From: Glinda Goodwitch Subject: Desires of Rebecca Ch. 4 Transcribed by Glinda Goodwitch gaspar50@yahoo.com The Desires of Rebecca (F/F F/f f/f) by Olivia Ravensworth Chapter Four Soon we reached London, the immediate goal of the Gypsies' travels. Never had I seen anything like it. Bakers and charwomen, bookbinders and woodworkers, vendors and hawkers, sailors and adventurers, courtiers and courtesans-all jostled each other in narrow lanes twisting between the crowded patchwork of innumerable buildings. In this sprawling metropolis, colorful and wild, surely there would be much coin to be made by Magda's family. Yet this strange city, this burgeoning heart of commerce, was also the perfect place in which to take leave of my kind benefactors. Though I hated to lose my dear, passionate Magda, to my unnaturally heightened senses the fathomless dark eyes of her father seemed to grow more troubled every day. Despite the man's best intentions, thought, his lust for me smoldered stronger than ever, clear and dangerous. After that first time, when I had thought I glimpsed him watching me from the woods, my suspicious mind seemed to discern him lurking everywhere. That one chance encounter-imagined though it most probably had been-led me to suspect ever more intrusions. It seemed that he always had some excuse-whether fetching water at midday or mending the wagons late at night-to be prowling around where he might secretly discover me at my natural feminine diversions. I never had the heart to confide my wild suspicions to Magda, but I was most stubbornly convinced of his intentions. Yet neither could I deny the passions of my body. Regardless of my suspicions that we were not always completely alone, I simply could not keep my appreciative hands from my friend's supple dark flesh. Moreover to leave her needs unattended, for whatever reason, would have been heartless and cruel indeed. Sometimes I thought I heard a peculiar rustling in the leaves as we wanton innocents cavorted joyously in a cleansing brook. While I burned with rage at the thought that it might not have been a startled deer, as Magda laughingly explained, I never could see an intruder. Face blazing at the thought that some wicked man might be watching, leering at my naked flesh and at the generosity of my shameless passions, I could do' naught but continue my intimate ministrations ...sucking with abandon upon my friend's pretty nipples as she lovingly stroked the moistening fur at the base of my belly in return. More than once I fancied I sensed a presence in the night outside the thin canvas of our wagon. Perhaps there was a sudden quieting of startled insects, perhaps the halfheard cracking of a twig, perhaps some subtle shift of the shadows in the moonlight I was caught in the most terrible dilemma, for no matter how that unfounded suspicion might at first make me stiffen and freeze, Magda's hands could not fail to loosen my tense body. Though surely there was no male beast peering in at me through a prick in the arched canvas, the very thought tortured my soul. Yet to my hungry body, naked and spread-eagled on the sweaty quilt, in the end it could matter little. When Magda's insistent fingertips reached into my dripping pink quim and fondled my swollen clitty as only another girl really can, I was helpless to do anything but throw back my head and cry out in undeniable ecstasy. I never saw him, never really caught him, but somehow I was wildly convinced that the man was watching me. The idea, impossible though it was, both disgusted and terrified me. Soon, I imagined, he could not help but want more.... When we retired to bed on our first night in London, I pleasured my dear Magda with a passion borne of love, and of sadness. Never again, I imagined, would I meet another friend such as she, and I was determined to pay her as she deserved We curled up on our sides in the narrow pallet as darkness fell, hands wrapped about each other's supple young buttocks, faces pressed lovingly into the lubrication-slicked tangles of each other's sodden cunts, tongues fluttering sloppily in an ecstasy of love and devotion. Oh, her knowing fingers and eager mouth neglected me not in the least, but surely it was she who benefited the more that night. I transported the surprised girl to glorious climax again and again, desperately. She knew not that I was about to betray her trust and leave her, and I craved that I might at least make our last night together something she could always treasure. On and on I made her gasp.... Finally I reversed myself, and we lay facing each other. We kissed absently, tasting on each other's lips the musky juices which but moments before had slicked our spasming womanhoods. Soon, exhausted, Magda fell into a blissful slumber, the corners of her lips faintly upturned in the darkness. I lay awake staring at her smooth dark face, flushed and peaceful as I stroked her naked breasts lightly. I knew not where I would go, or how I might survive. I felt only that I must leave. At last it was time. I rose quietly and dressed myself in the clothing the kind family had given me. Blinking back tears, I kissed Magda's cheek softly and slipped away into the night. For hours I walked the damp streets and mazy back alleys of London. I was alone again, frighteningly so; nevertheless, I shrank back whenever I heard another approach-the souls I saw that night were no companions for me. Drunkards and thieves, it seemed, were the only inhabitants of the night. Why, the city was even less hospitable than the wilds of the country. If only I survived until the morn, I thought despairingly, I might find a family to take me in, or some old woman in need of a companion.... My thoughts were vague and unformed. Once again a large shadow loomed out of the darkness ahead, and I tried to hide myself. Yet as I cowered against grimy bricking, I saw with terror that the shape slowed. Had he seen me? Someone peered in my direction, but the moonlight was such that if I leaned away from the wall, I would surely be observed. I dared not move. My heart hammered alarmingly beneath my breasts, so loud that I imagined the villain must hear it. I froze, hoping against hope that somehow I had not been noticed. Yet still he shuffled forward. No, I realized, there could be no doubt about his intentions. Quivering, I tried to judge the right moment to spring away. The figure was portly, I tried to tell myself, and probably besotted as well-doubly cumbersome. Perhaps I could fly before the brute roused himself to pursue. Calculations whirled meaninglessly within my head. Suddenly in terror I realized the form was closer than I had thought-much closer. I could not escape! "Janey?" called a woman's voice. "Is it thou, girl?" - A woman! I started breathing again, raggedly I found my voice and hesitantly stuttered, "N-no..." "Who is it?" the voice wondered, half to itself. The shape -just a woman, I reminded myself, just a woman- approached another pace. Quietly I stepped out of my worthless hiding place. "My name is Rebecca," I said softly. I bit my lip and asked, "Who art thou?" "Why I am Mother Curry!" the voice replied with an indulgent chuckle. The woman stepped into a swath of moonlight falling between the untidy buildings, and I saw her more clearly. She was, indeed, motherly in a common sort of way, her large frame dressed in prim, modest clothing. She might have been fifty years of age. Her hazel eyes twinkled speculatively as she peered forward. "Goodness, child, what is such a girl as thou doing about nights?" I took a breath, wondering what I could say. "I have just come to London," I replied finally. "But..." The woman hesitated, and there was just enough of the pale silvery light for me to read her frown. "Surely thou hast some relations? Some friends?" "No," I whispered hopelessly "I have run away." "Oh, child!" cried Mother Curry. She stretched out her arms to me. "The streets of London are no place for such a dear little thing." She put a hand on one of my shoulders and swept her other arm protectively around me. Her blunt fingers stroked at my trembling hip, trying to reassure me. "Thou must come with Mother Curry, dear. Thou knowst I'll keep thee from harm." I nearly collapsed into the older woman's matronly, almost possessive embrace. "My thanks!" I sobbed. "Think nothing of it, dearie," she clucked. Tenderly she brushed a wisp of hair from my forehead. She regarded my pale young face appraisingly for a moment, her fingertips soft upon my jaw ...then she began leading me along. Through unfamiliar streets we walked, endlessly, it seemed, until finally we slipped into a narrow, dark alley. I saw no outlet and was sure that we must have been lost. Yet Mother Curry's hand was firm upon my rump as she said cheerily, "This way, my little Rebecca!" I could scarcely see in the darkness, but the woman led me to a rough doorway I had not noticed and urged me up an uneven set of stairs with a playful pat on my bottom. We reached a landing, and I followed Mother Curry down a long hallway, stepping carefully where she seemed to walk as if by instinct. Mine eyes were adjusting to the darkness, slowly, and by the time we reached the end of the passage I was just able to discern doors along both sides. I could see no more, however, for in a moment we had reached the end of the hall. "Here we are, dear," said Mother Curry with a smile. She opened the door before us, and I followed her hesitantly in. The room was small but comfortable, with a dresser with a mirror and a chair, a little table, and a large roughhewn bed. The furniture was raw and unfinished, s the homey fragrance of the wood for a painful moment a reminding me of the cozy little wagon I had shared with Magda. I swallowed uncomfortably and looked around. The window was open, and a glow of pale moonlight bathed the chamber in that silvery radiance which can beautify even the humblest abode as if by some magic. I stared longingly at the bed-it was late, and I was exhausted. Mother Curry saw me. "Oh, yes, Rebecca," said she, "that's right. Thou'lt be tired, methinks, so it's off to bed with us!" So saying, she began helping me off with my clothing, her faded old hands working familiarly at my garments as if it were the most natural thing for them to do. And perhaps it was, I thought wearily, for in satisfying my dear lost Magda and in waiting for her to fall soundly asleep, I had missed much-needed rest-and in wandering the cruel streets of London I had frayed my nerves terribly. It seemed I could scarcely stand. I allowed Mother Curry to bare my high young bosom, shivering remotely as, eyes half-lidded, she chanced to let her dry fingertips accidentally brush across my stiffening peaks. She did not seem to notice. She stepped me matter-of-factly out of my skirts, smiling faintly to herself as she regarded me. In a moment I was naked, and her eyes traveled frankly over my pale, moonlit flesh. Uncertain, I made as if to cover myself, but the other merely chuckled. "Oh, thou'rt a comely lass, Rebecca, indeed!" exclaimed Mother Curry. "No need," she continued more softly, "to hide such beauties." Biting my lip, I let my hands fall from the high young mounds of my breasts. I watched in silence while she slowly stripped herself as well. "Yes, I dare say Mother Curry's seen many a girl in her time." Mother Curry removed her bonnet, and a thick tumble of wavy brown hair spilled out, streaked through with gray. It bounced prettily about her solid, rounded shoulders in the moonlight. Beneath her clothing the woman was large, yet not altogether unattractive, I supposed. I stared in awe as she unlaced her bodice to reveal a great creamy pair of breasts, heavy yet still remarkably firm. Her nipples were large and brown, and as I watched, they puckered up delightfully in the cool night air. Those crinkled dark nubbins were enormous. She smiled at my wide-eyed stare. "Oh, Rebecca, glad I am to've found thee. I hate to think of such a dear girl alone on those streets." Slowly she stepped out of the rest of her underclothing. Her belly was large and round and her thighs were heavy, yet I could not help but notice in fascination the moist brownish hair curling impudently from where they met. She made no move to cover herself. "Besides;" she added quietly, "though I try to take care of a number of wayward girls, sometimes I still feel a wee bit lonely at nights ...." "I see," I nodded blankly. "Oh, my other girls are little like thyself, dearie," said Mother Curry enigmatically. "They are older, most of them more, ah, at home with the ways of the world. "They have their own rooms, but ...well, I think it might be better if thou shared my room for a while." "I suppose so...," I agreed, not sure of what to think She had produced no nightclothes.... "Oh, of course, Rebecca," she continued, pulling back the sheets. She patted the bed-but then smiled as she saw my hesitation. "Why surely thou hast slept without nightclothes before, Rebecca? Mayhap just once or twice....?" "Yes...," I admitted, blushing. "Ah," she said easily, "and with two in bed-well, thou seest how hot 'twould be with all those silly shifts." "Of course," I whispered. "Then in ye go, my girl," laughed Mother Curry good naturedly. She gave my naked round bottom a friendly pat as she helped me into bed. I was so confused and exhausted that I scarcely noticed as that innocent pat lingered into a squeeze, and the woman's blunt fingers splayed across my pale cheek, her heavy thumb digging familiarly into the yielding flesh near the soft crease of my buttock. The big bed was cool, but Mother Curry soon climbed in and pulled up the covers. I tried to give my protector a smile. "Good night, Mother Curry," I said awkwardly. "Good night, Rebecca," she replied softly as she rolled away-yet in her voice I thought I detected the evidence of a faint smile. I rolled over upon my side and closed my eyes, trying to make myself comfortable in a strange bed in a strange room. I lay there for what seemed like a long time, not really asleep but still most drowsy, languishing in a leaden stupor. Though I was excruciatingly fatigued, I was too excited to sleep yet The day's events flew about within my head-the loss of Magda, the nighttime terror of London's sordid back streets, my rescue by Mother Curry. I felt her back and hips, womanly and reassuring, against mine. Other thoughts flashed, unbidden, within my mind, and I felt myself blushing. My pulse rushed at my temples. This kind stranger was naked beneath the sheets with me, I realized dazedly, her body round and smooth against mine. The notion was a peculiar one ...yet certainly not unwelcome. If I but chanced to reach back my hand to scratch or to adjust the covers, I would find myself stroking her flesh. Despite myself, I shivered at the thought. At length Mother Curry rolled back to face the back of my head and I felt her full breasts press familiarly between my shoulder blades. "Still not ready for sleep yet, eh?" "No," I said guiltily, surprised that she was still awake. "I didn't mean to keep thee from sleep as well." I rolled upon my back, and out of the corner of mine eye I found her smiling benignly in the darkness. Mother Curry's meaty globes bobbled distractingly against the skin of my upper arm. "Oh, that's all right, dearie," she said indulgently "The day hast been a long one for thee, methinks." "Yes," I nodded quietly. "Only..." "What, Mother Curry?" Anxiously I wondered what she could be thinking. I rolled again, from my back to my other side, so that I faced her in the darkness. Now her solid mammaries nudged the high, quivering mounds of mine own bosom, and I tried not to look down. "Well, Rebecca," she said lightly, "I couldn't help but notice..." She hesitated, as if for politeness' sake. "Yes...?" I breathed. "Well, dear," she continued quietly, "Mother Curry has been about quite a while, and she knows a thing or two about girls." She paused, her lips pursed. "I couldn't help noticing, Rebecca, that thou art more than a little curious about Mother Curry's old teats ...." I bit my lip, my face burning. "I'm sorry, Mother Curry!" I gasped. I would be cast out again, I felt certain. My pulse pounded in rage against such terrible prudery as I tried to stammer some explanation that might mollify her. "I-I-" "Oh, child," she cooed, "'tis all right" The woman smiled, and reached out to hold my hand beneath the covers. "I know how these things are. Why, when I was thine age, I, too, was eager to learn about the ways of womanhood. Some little glint in thine eye, dearie, made me think that in some manner perhaps thou art not altogether inexperienced in such things..." I tried to cover my face, but she pulled my hands away and held them tenderly. "Oh, thou needn't blush, my pretty. Ladies such as we have feelings as men would ne'er understand. Perhaps 'tis why thou ran away...?" She smiled at my hesitant nod. "Yes, of course. Now, we both know why 'tis so hard to get to sleep, don't we?" I met the knowing gaze of her smoldering hazel eyes. "Yes," I whispered. "Thou art wondering," she declared mischievously, "what 'twould be like to touch Mother Curry's old bosom." Her playful tone almost made me smile, but I bit my lip coyly. "Oh, don't deny it, my sweet," she chided gently. "Yes," I admitted, trembling. "Well, there's no harm in it, is there, now?" She smiled. Mother Curry pulled back the sheets and exposed her full, round breasts. She looked down at them, and then looked up at me slyly. "Go on, dearie. Thou knowst thou've been wanting to." My brows rose questioningly in the darkness, but she indulgently nodded me on. I took a deep breath and demurely put my hands out to this kind stranger's great mammaries, running my fingertips lightly across warm, creamy skin. I stared in awe at those heavy mounds, marveling at the feel of her resilient flesh smooth beneath my hands. Though I tried to feign disinterest, I could not help clutching at those rippling mounds. Soon I found myself fondling the meaty globes with undisguised lust. "Yes," the woman said breathily, "that is what we both want, eh?" She shivered as my questing fingertips found her tremendous nipples and began stroking along the beautifully crinkled nubs. The size of her thick paps was most arousing, but even more so was the thought that they had stiffened up just for me. "I dare say thou knowst some pretty games...," she whispered. Indeed I did, and, once allowed this familiarity, I needed little more encouragement. I grabbed at her heaving breasts eagerly, feeling her excited nipples in my smooth palms. This woman was so much different from the other two girls I had known, so much bigger, so much more experienced-and womanly. Yes, that was it. Elsie and Magda were girls, inexperienced little wenches coyly beginning to learn what it truly meant to be a woman, but Mother Curry had done it all long before. Though it had thrilled me to cavort with playmates my own age-young and slender and firm-it was a special joy to know that I could pleasure such a worldly jade. This was no girlish experiment to her but a shameless expression of her natural lusts. Inside I was joyously wet. I gathered her brown nipples between my wicked digits, watching her writhe. I tugged mercilessly upon the engorged flesh, stretching her throbbing peaks to enormous lengths-twisting them, fondling them Smiling, I rolled her again to her back and climbed upon her, straddling the woman's wide hips so that I looked down upon her voluptuous, quivering form. Her eyes were beautifully closed, her round cheeks flushed, her lips open in pleasure. Her fading brown hair spilled across the pillow as I tortured her, framing a moonlit portrait of unashamed delight. As I rode her triumphantly I felt her solid white thighs begin grinding together. I could smell the wet musk of her arousal. Shuddering, I lay down across her broad belly and wrapped my fists around the crinkled centers of her great breasts, squeezing her swollen nipples up between my circled thumbs and forefingers. The delectable treats quivered irresistibly before my flushed face, smelling of soft, desirable woman-flesh. I breathed deeply, trembling in my hunger. Soon I commenced dropping my grateful lips about one stiffened peak, then the other. A turgid bud filled my watering mouth, tasting intimate and warm-and while I chewed excitedly upon one nipple, I pulled possessively at the other. It was glorious. With my passionate young Magda, I had always felt the need to be careful of her pretty plums, so tender and ripe. But with Mother Curry, I sensed I could let my appetites run wild. Her breasts were such mammoth handfuls, her nipples such mouthfuls that I felt instinctively they could take whatever treatment I might feverishly crave to give them. Sighing, I buried my face in her pillowy white flesh, fondling her breasts roughly, nursing greedily at saliva-slicked brown nubbins veritably crying out to be ravished. Mother Curry gasped in delight Panting, she pushed her hands down across her belly toward mine open thighs, and I groaned as she scratched her nails teasingly through the sweating blonde curls between my open legs. Slowly she drew her blunt fingertips between my glistening lips, but though I quivered in need, the act was only to scoop up a sticky dollop of my copious lubrication. My body pleaded with her, but the woman merely smiled dreamily and began smearing my glistening juices about her ravaged nipples. I goggled uncertainly, but there could be little doubt as to what she was wordlessly suggesting. Mother Curry stared up at me through drowsily slitted eyes, invitingly. Silently she dared me to lick mine own fluids from her. I could scarcely restrain myself. The great thickened nipples of the knowing older woman thrust up before me, tantalizing and smelly. Those wet treats, slick with my saliva-and, now, with mine own shameless lubrication as well-seemed to cry out for the return of my hungry mouth. I could not resist them. Gasping helplessly I sucked at her musky buds, tasting the undeniable evidence of mine own arousal as she watched through heavy-lidded eyes. The wicked act seemed to excite her as much as it did me, and her thighs rubbed together urgently. Soon Mother Curry spoke again. "Rebecca," she breathed unsteadily, "indeed thou'rt a most pleasing girl. But I wonder, lass, if thou might do more ...." Behind me she pulled open her knees, and as her grinding thighs slowly came apart I scented the strong odor of her arousal. "I see thou may taste thyself without blushing... but hast thou e'er tasted another?" She smiled slyly up at me in the darkness as for a moment I stopped pawing and chewing upon her great mammaries. "Ah, I see by the look on thy face that the answer is yes." She shuddered as I twisted her nipples to enormous lengths and sucked them one by one back between my flushed cheeks. "Then I pray thee, my pretty," she whispered urgently, "taste old Mother Curry now..." Eagerly I began to push myself down to comply-but suddenly I stopped. Smiling in the moonlit darkness, I merely turned around upon her broad belly, still straddling the woman but facing her hips rather than her face. Silently I inched my naked bottom higher up Mother Curry's body I placed my cool hands upon her hot thighs, lowering my face slowly, teasingly, until it hung above her wet mound, my breath tickling the moist crinkles of her hair. "Oh, yes, Rebecca," Mother Curry murmured indulgently, "'tis only fair. And thou knowst old Mother Curry shan't mind the taste of pussy ...especially one so young and sweet and ripe as thine. Come here, girl." She grabbed my bottom with her hands and pulled me until my dilated cunny dripped just above her lips, and as she arched her neck and slopped her mouth expertly into me, I dug my thumbs into her wonderfully smelly labia and began lapping contentedly at the trembling morsel of her naked clitoris. Her technique was incredible-never had my cunt been sucked so expertly. I had the satisfaction of bringing the excited old jade off almost immediately, and as her own climax burned between her grinding hips, she snaked her long tongue knowingly into my throbbing cunt and licked me as I had never been licked before. She found my rigid clitoris and expertly began to fondle it, teasing me with a lapping tongue tip and nibbling lips which tortured me excruciatingly before they finally let me glimpse the climax they made me crave. I gasped with joy, nursing fiercely at the slick pink flesh of her vulva as her nimble tongue tip traced little circles about the very center of my blossoming young womanhood. A pulsing fullness spread through my loins, blazing like liquid fire, transporting me to bliss. Clinging desperately to Mother Curry, I gasped, spasming in a welcome culmination that rolled on and on.... At the time I was not really certain of how Mother Curry made her living. I knew that she had enough income to feed and clothe about a dozen other girls who lived in separate rooms down the hall from us. They were fairly pretty things, but all of them older than myself and obviously much more worldly as well. Initially I fancied that the girls knew not my secret relationship with our guardian, but from their little smirks and a snippet of conversation overheard now and then, I soon received the impression that they understood my position all too well. My face burned whenever I saw the wenches. I was not ashamed of mine own desires but the knowledge that they could see right through me laughing at my state, infuriated me. Yet eventually I realized that the girls did not seem to disapprove. The thought excited me vaguely. If they were not the prim and prudish young ladies I had thought them to be ...what were they? If they understood the natural desires of the flesh-and scorned them not-perhaps they were kindred spirits. More than once I imagined what it might be like to make love with one of those comely lasses. Yet Mother Curry was most possessive of me, and I sensed that she wanted me all for herself. Now and then, though, an errand took her away, and I was able to gain a little privacy. I had fancied that I might at least peep in at a keyhole whilst one of those trim wenches undressed. Yet when I finally had the opportunity-and the courage-to sneak down to one of the girls' rooms, I was rewarded to find a big breasted brunette and a pair of shapely little redheads bathing together in a great wooden tub. Heart hammering beneath my suddenly stiff-nippled breasts, I looked around to make sure no one else was in the hall. Then I squatted down and, wide eye close to the keyhole, pulled up my skirts and began masturbating. Yet as I gasped there desperately, some noise must have given me away. The black-haired girl straightened suddenly, her pretty head cocked. Then, before I had time to react, she sprang to the door in two quick steps and yanked it savagely open. "Well!" she laughed derisively. "'Tis Mother Curry's new pet!" The slim redheads sneered at me as they came up behind her, gloriously naked and not trying to hide it. "I-I'm sorry!" I stammered out, trying somehow to apologize. "I was just-" "Having a sneaky little frig at our expense, eh?" said the brunette. "That's clear enough." She looked me slowly up and down, and I could not help but notice that the dark peaks of her nipples were still puckered full and stiff. "Well..." She exchanged glances with her friends. "I suppose girls such as we can't complain too much about merely being watched, now can we?" I bit my lip uncertainly, and then she addressed me again. "'Twould be better inside, I believe, than squatting there in the hall ...." Breathing deep, I closed the door behind me as the three climbed into bed and began making love shamelessly before my wide eyes. These desirable wenches had tried to embarrass me, had not asked my name, nor even offered theirs. Indeed, though the older girl had invited me in, after a fashion, she still had not exactly asked me to join them. Clearly they disdained me, Mother Curry's pampered pet-and I was not sure I liked them either. But they were simply too beautiful... Shuddering, I slipped my hand beneath my skirts and began to touch myself as I walked slowly around the bed. The sable-haired girl arched her back on the rumpled sheets, fondling the stiff-nippled mounds of her full breasts dreamily, squeezing the resilient white flesh and catching the engorged peaks between knowing thumbs and forefingers. Her flushed eyelids were closed sweetly in pleasure as her two young friends hunched gratefully between her raised thighs, tongues touching as they lapped her pussy together. The sight was heavenly. As I prodded my quaking clitty with one hand, I let mine other hand run appreciatively across the silky planes and curves of creamy naked skin before me. Those girls felt so good. I stroked the pretty young redheads' rounded shoulders and narrow backs, cupped their taut breasts, and caressed their smooth haunches. I bent close to nibble the soft fragrant nape of the nearest girl, soon letting my fevered lips and tongue tease the sensitive skin of her blood-warmed earlobe. I smiled as she shivered at my attentions, watched her reach one hand down her flat young belly and masturbate. Thumb rubbing directly at the firm nodule of my lubrication-slicked clitoris, I pushed my index and middle fingers deep up into my cunt I fucked myself happily, breath coming ragged and fast Soon I took to slipping the fingers of the other hand into the hairy, opened twat of the brunette and drawing shining traces of her smelly juices across the flushed cheeks of her devoted lovers. The black-haired girl watched me through slitted eyes. Finally, gasping, I could not help climbing up into the bed, straddling the writhing wench's reddened face and veritably smothering her with my wet cunt. Facing down her naked belly, watching her fondle her breasts, watching the others pleasure her, I rode her skillful mouth triumphantly. I twisted mine own nipples as I rocked across her opened lips and wildly fluttering tongue, feeling the familiar throes of unendurable ecstasy pulse liquidly up from the spasming center of my very being. But despite such occasional sport sneaked now and then with Mother Curry's bevy of young beauties, still they seemed disdainful of me. My state seemed to amuse them somehow. Once I heard one saying smugly to another that I would someday be abandoned ...but I imagined the girl was merely jealous. None of them, after all, enjoyed the favors of our benefactor as I did Usually I saw the other girls only when I was in the company of Mother Curry, and I rarely had the chance or courage to speak with them directly. I was surprised to learn that the building in which we lodged housed a disreputable-seeming tavern on its ground floor. We were not really that far from the mouth of the Thames, from Gravesend and the sea, and often were the streets peopled with all manner of rough sailors. There were many who shipped back and forth to the Continent, and no few seamen who sailed for the East India Company. Sometimes I glimpsed coarse fellows who must have been brigands-it would not have surprised me to hear that some who had been the tavern's customers one day were captured and hanged the next for turning Turk and helping the Barbary pirates ravage some defenseless English village. Mother Curry and I most often used the back stairs, for on those few occasions when we took the shortcut to the street by going down the front stairs and through the smoky tavern, my youthful beauty always attracted lustful eyes. Those sailors were a rough lot, and it was only Mother Curry's great protective arm about my waist which kept me from running straight away in panic. Yet even when we left by the back entrance, many were the times when I saw one of those bewhiskered sots trudging up the front stairs and stumbling down the hall with a crooked smile. At the time I did not understand. Mother Curry took me on long walks here and there about the city. Though sometimes we two strolled alone, more often my protector brought along a few of her other girls, looking fine and pretty in their bright blue dresses. We might walk through crowds at the marketplace or at the Globe Theatre, turning heads wherever we went. That always made me most uncomfortable, but the older woman merely smiled. One by one the other girls would chance to meet an old friend, it seemed- some male cousin or friend of the family, perhaps-and, with a nod to Mother Curry, would drift away. At the time I was too young, I think, to put all of the evidence together. Yet as the day wore on and we returned to our room and the shades of evening fell, there would be no uncertainty about what was to transpire. Mother Curry's appetites were nearly as strong as mine own. We fell into a comfortable little routine. It was a pleasure to disrobe myself slowly beneath the appreciative stare of Mother Curry, mine eyes demurely half-lidded as I bared my nubile young body for her, inch by provocative inch. Naked at last, I might yawn and stretch so that my limbs rolled shapely and alluring in the moonlight. Then, as if realizing her gaze at last, I would cover my breasts with my palms in mock innocence ...only to begin fondling my pert little nipples while she watched. I knew how that made the woman drip inside. While Mother Curry undressed, I pranced before her, wantonly. I caressed the stiffened pink-brown peaks of my breasts, offering them to the distracted woman's lips as she worked, unseeing, at her clothing. I combed my fingertips through the musky blonde thatch between my thighs and waved the fragrant digits before her face so that she might scent them. Sometimes I drew my fingertips through the smelly pink flesh of my watering cunny itself and let her lick off the juices. Somehow that dirty, intimate act always aroused me terribly-the thought of her hungry mouth sucking unabashedly at the fingers which but a second before had squelched within my most private of places. It made me restlessly excited, for I knew that soon that hungry mouth would bury itself between the blonde-furred lips of my pouting young cunny. Sometimes Mother Curry simply wanted to watch me masturbate. With Mother Curry's cajoling I soon discovered what a delight it was to perform for someone, writhing naked and beautiful. I always complied, eagerly, reveling in the wild joy of frigging myself off before a woman who looked on in rapt adoration. And as I lay back and pleasured myself, knees drawn up and pale thighs spread, sopping blonde curls shamelessly exposed, the woman might creep about me on the creaking old bed. She sucked knowingly on my maidenly young breasts, licked at my sensitive throat, nibbled the trembling skin behind my ears-making me shudder with her erotic attentions. And all the while her own fingers worked lovingly between her thighs. Often the voluptuous old jade wanted her own nipples sucked. While she cupped her great breasts in her hands she would watch me intently, taking pleasure not only in the physical sensations but in the very sight of my nimble lips, the hungry concavity of my flushed cheeks, my unguarded expressions of bliss-Mother Curry was a connoisseur of such little joys. Sometimes we shared those wondrous breasts between us. While I nursed contentedly upon one engorged nipple, Mother Curry might push her other breast up so that her naughty lips and teeth might pull at its puckered tip. It was heavenly to wallow in those great creamy mounds with her, trading her swollen paps back and forth, sucking and nibbling, pulling and biting with the passion which a woman's body naturally seemed to engender. And often Mother Curry wished that I might stroke her clitty as well, which I was only too happy to do. I rubbed longingly at the slippery little bud between her puffy, brown-fringed lips, smiling at the power I possessed. Wickedly I might pause and rub her musky juices across her heaving breasts and her flushed face, watching her lick them off before I let my hand stray lower again. I tried to make her suffer as long as I could before bringing her off, but when her torture became too great, Mother Curry had a special way of appealing to my feminine desires. When I tarried too long at my games, she might shudder and beg me to put my finger right up inside of her-she soon learned I could not resist the invitation. So I finger-fucked her, gladly. It was a naughty treat to put my slippery fingers deep into her hungry body while I spread her hairy lips wide open with my other hand so that I might stare at the sight I inserted first one finger, carefully, then two. Yet Mother Curry pleaded for more. Marveling at her flexibility, I would slowly slip my third finger into her as well. Her cunt was tight, but she stretched to accommodate the wondrous penetration, groaning in pleasure as I gingerly worked my fingers in and out. At first I thought she could take no more, but before long she had convinced me to push in my little finger as well. The sight was beautiful, and the knowledge that I was inside of another woman, right up inside of her and grinding between her hips, was almost enough to bring on mine own climax While I reached blissfully between my own sweating thighs, I watched my pale flesh slide ever deeper into her stretched, spasming pink folds. Finally I could not help but tuck my thumb into my palm and work it into her. At first Mother Curry whimpered at this unasked-for intrusion, but it was with delight that she squirmed against me. I pushed my bunched fingers into her, deeper, deeper, until she gratefully accepted my entire fist. Reeling, I thrust myself into her snug, lubricious depths, my slim wrist rubbing inescapably against the taut flesh of her exquisitely tortured clitoris. The sight was beautiful, and the smell... Her cunt was liquid and dripping, its salty fragrance filling the close air of the room. My mouth watered uncontrollably. It was always a delight to suck the juices from her lubrication-slicked nipples, and the thought of tasting that ultimately feminine elixir so close near the source, bare inches from its open pink font, was even more intoxicating. Sometimes I licked tentatively at the musky juices as they ran down my forearm. Yet all too soon I would have to reverse myself, to lay my pale young flesh across her great body so that we might suck each other's cunnies together. Nightly we clung to each other, upper lips to nether, wallowing so deliriously in the indescribable joys of another woman's flesh-licking, sucking, smelling, tasting! At long last the syrupy sweet spasms of bliss would shake my hips and, crying out, I would struggle to keep my heavy-lidded eyes open within her hairy pink garden of delights as we lovingly brought each other to a shuddering climax. Transcribed by Glinda Goodwitch gaspar50@yahoo.com