The Vicar's girl

Chapter Twenty-Two

An hour had passed since Mr. Partridge had ridden out with Mabel and now from a high window at the front of the house, Vanessa watched their return. Mabel had her head hung, but no doubt she was rehearsing her entry into the house, expecting Vanessa's eyes to search her fully, as they would.

To the relief and surprise of Mabel, however, Vanessa greeted the incoming pair with a soft 'Hello' and the announcement that, having expected their return at such a time, she had ordered tea to be ready in but a few minutes.

'Thank you, my dear. Most considerate', uttered Eric with all the solemnity he could produce. Margaret had gone out, he heard, taking her nephews with her.

'It is as well. I mean, that is, the house is nice and quiet. Alice wished to see my house. You don't mind? I despatched her there with a servant. No doubt she will be merrily frolicking all about-the little angel that she is. Did you have a good ride, Mabel?' Vanessa asked with perfect innocence while the blushing girl unpinned her hat.

Swallowing, Mabel replied that it was nice and kept her head down as she spoke, averring that she wished to change.

'No, dear, you may change later. Where did you go? Are there good rides about-around-about?'

'We reached the woodman's hut and rested there awhile', Eric said. His eyes met Vanessa's, then he turned away.

'Ah, then, you have something to tell me. Have you something to tell me? May I kiss her? How pretty her flushed cheeks look! Do you mind if I kiss her?'

'I wish you…', Eric began and stopped. His voice was choked. 'I-er-I do not mind if you kiss her. That is to say…'

'Oh, Papa!'

Blushing to the neck, Mabel made to turn and make her exit again even as a maid entered to announce tea.

'Later, I think. Do you think later, Mr. Partridge? Perhaps in an hour?' asked Vanessa pointedly while retaining a light grip on Mabel's arm.

'Later, I think-yes'. He had a rigid look, and not only his face, as Vanessa saw.

'We shall go up then-go up and talk-talk about your nice rest-shall we talk?' Vanessa purred.

'I w… want, I want to change', blurted Mabel, clutching both hands together.

'Darling, you are so babyish, are you not? You always want to do something other than that which must be done. If it has not already been done. Has it already been done?' Vanessa asked in one of her moods of repetition which seemed to hold small audiences in thrall.

'Nothing, no. I don't know what you mean', Mabel swallowed. The little procession of three entered the hall and made the ascent and she could feel herself trembling in every limb, her body warm and vibrant as it had been for a short while, explosively, in the dark woodman's hut

'Let me see you, darling. Did Papa spank you or even- I wonder-crop your bottom first? Have you taken that big cock of his yet-have you?'

'Ah, no, stop it!' blurted Mabel, covering her face and sitting on the bed with a little thump.

'She was good, though. Was she good?' Vanessa asked. Affording Mr. Partridge an encouraging wink, she placed herself on the bed on the far side of Mabel and looped one arm about her waist, bearing her back gently while Mabel's arms floundered and the back of her head hit the pillow.

'She was good', came the simple reply from Mabel's sire who-taking the wink as a hint-moved round to the opposite side and so encased Mabel between them.

'I do not have to cane you, then, Mabel, do I? Tell me, darling, for I wish to know'.

'I want to die! I don't want to speak!' Mabel whined, keeping her hands over her eyes.

'We shall see if you want to die when we have your drawers off, Mabel-if you are still wearing them. Are you?' Vanessa asked and with one sweep of her left arm scouted her hand deep up under Mabel's skirt and found the silky columns of her thighs and an absence there of legs of drawers. 'You left them in the woodman's shed, then? Good. You are progressing. Was he kind to you?'

'He cropped my bottom! Oh, Papa, you did!' Two tears rolled down beneath her fingers and were kissed away by Vanessa's full lips. Bearing down on her slowly while inching up her skirt to rebellious scrabblings of her hands from Mabel, Vanessa eased one stockinged leg between the girl's.

'Yes, but it was nice afterwards. Did you have a special ride then? Come, Mabel, do you want the cane?'

'No-woh! He didn't, no! The awful wicked things you ask! Oh, go away! Let me get up, I will get up, I will!'

'You will not, my pet, until I have the truth from you. Open her legs more, Mr. Partridge, while I draw her dress up more. Draw up her leg that's nearest to you-let me see'. And to fervent, strangled squeals from Mabel her brown-furred bush was all exposed and, while her trembling legs were held, a slender finger traced the gentle parting of her lovelips, Vanessa saying then with a small frown, 'I cannot tell'.

'No, she was not, but almost', Eric quavered.

'Aha, I see-she held your prick, you toyed with her? A good beginning, Mabel darling-very good. All right, sir, get your trousers down and let me see you both perform'.

'Nah!' Mabel screeched and then received a slap across her thigh that made her sob, endeavouring to curl up, but she was held, her nearest leg gripped by Vanessa while Mr. Partridge rose and thrust his trousers down, raised up his shirt and showed his proud Priapus to their view.-'I won't, I won't. I won't!' Mabel sobbed, peeping through her fingers at the risen penis. It was true that she had held it, had her cunny felt, caressed. Her Papa had kissed her and their tongues had touched just for a moment, and then she had dropped her head away.

'Shush! Be quiet now, Mabel, be quiet', Vanessa coaxed.

Removing Mabel's coy hand from across her eyes, she swooped her lips down on the girl's and despite gurgling struggles and much would-be shaking of Mabel's head succeeded in calming her while Eric stroked her cunny and her thighs and let his pego throb against her stocking top.

Mabel moaned and bucked her bottom mutinuously. Vanessa's long pointed tongue had found its way into her mouth. Fingers that were not Vanessa's were unbuttoning her corsage and her tits were freed. The tongue that slowly swirled in her mouth brought her a dizzy feeling that was like floating, floating. A thumb, that again was not Vanessa's, eased between her tight lovelips and moved back and forth, causing her-almost against her will-to draw upon it.

'Gwooo!' Mabel gasped into Vanessa's mouth, bringing a pretty laugh from that lady who, glancing down for a moment, saw the urging movements of Mr. Partridge's thumb and then licked the tip of her tongue in a sweeping motion back and forth across Mabel's increasingly lax lips.

'Hold it, Mabel-be good', Vanessa whispered into the girl's ear. Seeing that she made only a small, hesitant movement of her arm, Vanessa took her limp wrist and guided her hand down until Mabel's fingers touched the vibrant stem, causing Mr. Partridge to jerk in longing desire.-'I shall do it for you? There… clasp it but lightly, rub your fingers up and down… No, Mabel, do as I tell you-put them back. Up and down, up and down-that's right'.

'I must!' groaned Eric who up to now had maintained what he felt to be a cautious silence.

'In a while, my dear, in a while. Suck her nipples now and rub her cunny more. She is coming on, I believe. Are you, Mabel? Is your tummy melting, dear?'

'Oh-wer!' came Mabel's moan. Clasping the throbbing member as she now was, her bottom rolled and wriggled on the coverlet more willingly, even raising her hips occasionally in more passionate encouragement to the urging thumb, while in his rising hunger of desire Eric rolled upon her bouncy young form, endeavouring to move Vanessa's face aside and to draw upon those succulent lips himself.

Such abandonment of voluptuous preludes, however, annoyed Vanessa who reached between the bellies of the pair and grasped the fervent erection that Mabel, in the course of his movement, had been forced to loose.

'Pray hold, my dear-wait! Raise your hips a little while I point your cock to her cunny. Mabel-draw your knees up-quickly, darling, now!'

'I must, I must!' groaned Eric anew, but the hold around his charger was much more firm and possessive than Mabel's had been. Drawing his engorged crest to within a tempting inch of Mabel's warm, moist slit, she then began swirling a fingertip around the girl's clitoris at the same time.

'Hooo-oh!' Mabel whined, the bucking of her hips causing her lovelips and frothy curls to rub against the velvet-nosed plum of her father's stiff penis, and so much so that Eric endeavoured to force her slit but was sternly withheld from that endeavour by Vanessa who frigged him gently but promisingly, even as she was doing to Mabel whose now ecstastic sprinkling was making Vanessa's fingers agreeably sticky.

'How, sir, hold!' Vanessa hissed.

'But I want…haaar!'

Horrifyingly for Mr. Partridge, since he was within cunt-brushing distance, and yet with a whirling sense of relief, the first leaps of his sperm shot out, spattering both Mabel's honeypot and its shrouding curls in such abundance (followed as it was by its merrily-leaping fellows) that his daughter would not fail to feel the warm, splashing accolade. Indeed, in the fervent desire of the moment, whirling as she was in the course of her own delicious discharges, Mabel squirmed her hot bottom and endeavoured to sheathe the wicked member, but was prevented from doing so by Vanessa.

'Glah!' choked Mr. Partridge, his sperm forming a thick, mucous pool over and around its intended target. His jaw sagged. He was all but spent, as Vanessa saw, and was on such a point of imminent weakness that his slippery poker was easily pushed further back until its final pearls dripped warmly upon Mabel's right thigh. With a groan of mingling

despair and satisfaction, he then subsided, bringing his weight to bear upon his daughter's mounding tits and belly while in his final frenetic jerkings his head lay beside her own, his cock issuing driblets still upon her silksoft skin.

'You see?' Vanessa whispered with a smile to Mabel who lay limp and wondering, her eyes glazed as she continued to suffer the manly weight upon her. Mabel's parted lips were unmoving under the soft kiss she received while with one careful, nudging hand Vanessa caused Mabel's sire to glide off her.

With a little cry then, Mabel rolled onto her hip upon the very edge of her bed and threw her arms about Vanessa much in the manner of a lost child.

'Nice-is it not nice? It will be even better soon', her temptress murmured, stroking her nubile pupil's hair while Eric-guilt-ridden and yet containing within himself new fires of delight-groped his way off of the bed and quickly hauled his trousers up.

Blinded as she was by the looming of Vanessa's face over her own, and now more eager for the kisses that wafted over her flushed face, Mabel did not see the flicking of her tutor's hand which sent Mr. Partridge shuffling without and in so much wondering that he could not believe what had transpired, nor-since it patently had-why Vanessa had not allowed him to complete the sensuous act.

Pausing on the landing and undecided now as to how to act henceforth in respect of Mabel, or where indeed to take himself for the moment, he decided upon descending in order to quaff some restoring port or whiskey. Scarce had he begun to imbibe, however, and while reflecting on the perfect delights of Mabel's parted legs and snowy-mounded tits than Margaret made her entrance.

It had been for her, perhaps, an even more perfect day than for Eric. Her bottom tingled agreeably still from the dual assaults it had received in a quiet pasture from both the boys who-somewhat shamefaced at the thought of encountering their father-had taken to the rear of the house.

Unlike most adults, Margaret thought, boys in their youth did not allow their minds to linger upon acts of voluptuousness in which so far they showed much desiring effort but little finesse. It would be pleasant, for instance, to have her thighs licked, her bottom tickled by a teasing tongue, her nipples drawn upon more sensuously. With George and Freddy she was ever too hasty in the act, permitting their immediate, frolicsome pumpings of her bottom and her cunny. Even now their thoughts appeared to have moved elsewhere, for she could already hear the clickings of mallet and ball as they commenced a game of croquet on the lawn.

So, too, did Alice who, having returned, came tripping down, asking whether she might play in the garden, too- though therewith giving her parent an exceedingly searching and much-flushed glance which Eric immediately misunderstood, of course, for he feared that she might know of that which it were better for her not to know.

Receiving therefore his immediate and somewhat confused assent, Alice ran out, leaving Margaret to confront her brother-in-law who was in the act of handing her a glass of the selfsame comforter that he was imbibing.

'Your, er…', Margaret began with wondering amusement.

'My what?' echoed Eric.

Swallowing a little at her own temerity, but emboldened by the events of the day, Margaret approached him more closely and after some evident hesitation on her part whispered, 'The front of your trousers, Eric. They are open. I fear that Alice saw your-er…'

'My what?' jerked a confused Eric and then, glancing down, saw that the faintly-coated knob of his pego was indeed poking impudently out, for in his haste he had quite forgotten to button himself there.

'Your thing', giggled Margaret who had not intended to giggle at all.

'Margaret! Really!'

Turning his back on her, Eric fumbled with his buttons, first issuing one into the wrong hole so that a blush of guilty embarrassment flooded his face.

'My dear, I could not help but say it. How else was I to tell you?' Margaret enquired, holding the rim of her glass to her lips as though to prevent the exit of yet another giggle.-'Young girls are very impressionable, you know, Eric. Such things…'

'My dear, you have no need to emphasise the matter', Eric uttered stiffly while in that moment his eyes wandered to the lithe figure of his younger daughter whom he could see through the window. The sunlight shone through her dress.

'Forgive me!'

Offering a sudden change of mood, which was more contrived than impulsive, Margaret turned her back on him and bowed her head, adding in a low and seemingly quavering tone, 'One becomes lonely sometimes, Eric. Words come to one's lips-thoughts enter one's head. I have never spoken thus before, but when Alice saw it… It was clear to see, you know. Like a bird peeping from a nest. Oh, but I should not have said that either, should I? I will be in disgrace with you forever'.

As it appeared to Eric then, a sob-or what passed for one-came from his sister-in-law whose sumptuous bottom he had in full view.

'That which you had to say, you had to say. If Alice perceived my…'

'Your member?' asked Margaret softly, bowing her head while, with a sense of excited warmth, she felt his arm encircle her waist. One warm and bulbing halfmoon pressed back against his thigh. A quicker breathing sounded from both.-'What thoughts may be in her head now? Oh, Eric dear, how lewd you must think me for saying such, but yours is the first…'

'That Alice has seen?'

The words had escaped Eric's lips before he had thought to speak them.

'Indeed, yes-but the first I have seen for so long. Can you ever forgive me for saying such? My boldness frightens me indeed, and yet…'

'It arises from loneliness-loneliness, Margaret. What is to forgive, my dear? Do not distress yourself. Be comforted', uttered Eric in his newfound wisdom and therewith passing a comforting (if not also exploratory) hand around the protruding nether cheek whose companion moved a little to the pressure of his thigh.-'Perhaps, Margaret, we might retire upstairs and speak of it', he murmured, daring to feel right under her firm derriere at precisely the moment that Vanessa-who had overheard more of the conversation than either would have wished-strode into the room.

'It is I who will arrange such tete-a-tetes. Is it not?' she asked so meaningfully that both flushed and stared at her, while Eric hastily stepped back.

'We were discussing…', he began with wan hope of finding a suitable conclusion to his sentence.

'Arrangements for the night? I have already made such. Are we not civilised? Do we not bring sensitivity to such? I shall spend a while with Margaret first, if I might stay'.

'Oh yes, oh yes, an hour with me-of course!' interjected Margaret who otherwise feared that Vanessa's tongue might run too loose, as indeed did Eric.

'May we drink to that? Shall we drink to that? It is not what people say, but what they do that matters-is it not?"

'My dear Miss Markham, permit me to pour you some wine', stammered Eric.

'I would prefer a sweet liqueur at the moment-just at the moment', Vanessa said and settled herself in a grey armchair with much regal swishing of her skirts.

Just like a queen, thought Margaret with awe, and wondered what the night would really bring.