The man relaxed in his chair for a moment, then arose and, no whit alarmed by the girl's swoon, picked her up and carried her to the couch. Laying her there upon her back, he parted her thighs and, kneeling at the foot of the couch, leaned forward and buried his face in the curls of her dark underbrush. With hot tongue he began to caress the lips and clitoris of her entrancing slit, tonguing and mouthing her quivering crevice. In a moment the girl's eyes reopened; the delicious sensation and soothing feel of the man's wet lips and tongue against the bums and lacerations increasing the pleasure, and in her highly excited condition needing but little encouragement, she quickly reached the apogee of pleasure. Her hands clasped the man's head, which she drew tightly against her body, her thighs clasping him as she frenziedly squeezed his head in the throes of her orgasm. “Master! Master!” she cried, “Take it! Oh, suck it! Suck it! Oh, I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh, that's so good! So good! A-a-a-h!” With a low moan, the girl relaxed, her hands covering her eyes as she sank back into the cushions that covered the couch.
The man arose to his feet and, going to the bath, secured a towel with which he wiped the still-rampant plunger, which stood stiffly out from the front of his trousers; he then handed the cloth to the girl and directed her to cleanse herself also.
As she did so, she looked up and saw the great weapon swaying from the front of his trousers and she involuntarily shuddered. Drawing down her dresses, she rolled over on her face on the couch and lay panting for breath.
The man threw himself beside her, took her in his arms and pressed hot kisses upon her face and neck and her hot willing lips, she responding with equal ardor.
Reaching down, he drew up her skirts in the back, his hand petting and caressing the soft, smooth, round cheeks of her bottom. Drawing her hand down, he placed it about the large erect bolus, which was still rampant and apparently ready for further action.
The girl's still-excited condition responded readily to these exciting conditions and she breathed softly into his lordship's ear, “Do it, master! Do it to me! Oh, put it in; I want it, oh, I want it!”
The man was not loath. Rolling her over upon her back, he leaped astride of her; her eager hand guided his shaft into her cleft. With one fierce plunge he impaled it within her and with fierce moves the two twisted and turned with passion in an endeavor to bring about that sweet melting crisis that was so dear to their hearts.
“Master! Master!” breathed Marie, throwing her legs far up on his back and pressing his body close to hers, “I am coming again, master! I am coming again! Oh, there it goes-there it goes!!” she panted.
She gave him push for push as her torrent gurgled upon his throbbing rod, bedewing his balls with her sticky elixir.
Lord Roxboro replied by grasping her fiercely in a firm embrace about her buttocks and, raising himself above her, let himself fall and bury his burning staff deeply into her burning membranes and poured within her a flood of sperm that seemed to be without end. Biting and kissing her he continued to move his sweet charger within her until the last oozing drop was distilled from his glowing point. Then, with a gasp of fatigue, he lay full length upon her, totally exhausted.
They lay in this state a few minutes, both being unable to move. Then his lordship struggled to his feet and assisted her to hers and escorted her to the bathroom, where they performed their toilettes. Having thus repaired the damage done to their appearances, his lordship gently kissed her and escorted her to the library door. Marie was still trembling and quivering from the onslaught and, her Lordship pressing her to him with his lips glued to hers, she held to him tightly and with closed eyes returned his caresses and affection. Then, tearing herself loose from his embrace, she darted through the door and flew down the passageway.
The nobleman staggered back into the library and flung himself upon the couch and gave himself up to his thoughts.
“What a violent ball of fire that Marie is!” he soliloquized, gasping for breath. “A few days with a girl like that would prove too much for me! I suppose I must be getting old. I can't stand the jousts of love as I did of yore.”
After a short time, the lord awoke and, refreshed by his short nap, proceeded downstairs to the sitting room, where he found his two charming nieces engaged in a game of dominoes. As he entered, the girls stopped playing and Caroline favored him with a roguish smile. Evidently she and Freda had been engaged in a discussion of some kind in which Freda had come off second best, as her face wore a sullen look and she hung her head.
“Why what is the matter, girls?” inquired Lord Roxboro, looking from one to the other. “Have you been quarreling?”
“Oh, no,” laughed Caroline. “Freda and I just had a little argument and I am sure that she is now convinced that she was wrong. Aren't you, dear?” she asked.
“No,” sulked Freda, “I am not wrong and I know I am right. I know-and you can't tell me otherwise, so there!”
“Dear! Dear!” laughed the lord indulgently. “What is this tempest in a teapot all about? Come, girls, tell uncle so that he can decide the whole affair. What is it?”
Seating himself at the small table before which they had been playing, he leaned back in his chair, awaiting their explanation.
Caroline looked at Freda and laughed and Freda hung her head. The nobleman looked from one to the other in a puzzled manner.
He was at a loss to know what had occasioned the spat and determined to get at the bottom of it.
“Come, Caroline,” he said coaxingly, passing his hand around her upper arm and softly squeezing the cool flesh that palpitated beneath his clasp. “Come, Caroline, tell me what this is all about.” As he spoke his knee moved over to Caroline's and pressed it against her leg under cover of the table. Caroline returned the pressure with interest and, moving one of her hands over, laid it upon his thigh.
“Why, uncle,” she said, turning her charming eyes full upon him and squeezing his thigh under the table; “Freda and I were just talking about babies!” and she blushed and hung her head;
“About babies!” echoed the lord in a surprised tone. “What in the world do you mean?” he said, giving Caroline a warning glance and motioning toward Freda.
“Yes, about babies!” cried Freda emphatically, shaking her head to emphasize the statement. “Caroline says-” and here she hurried on breathlessly, “Caroline says-she says that one girl can have two or three babies at once! I know that that isn't true! Is it, uncle?” and she turned her eyes upon her uncle.
“Ha, ha!” evaded the lord, somewhat confounded by her direct glance and question. “Hm! Freda and Caroline, where on earth do you get all these ideas? Who has been talking about babies to you? And what do you know about babies? What does all this mean?” he asked, looking rather sternly from one to the other.
Caroline was not the least nonplussed but seemed rather amused at his searching glance, and Freda, adopting an air of wisdom that was extremely comical, opened her lips to speak, but changed her mind and closed them again.
“Come, Freda,” said the lord, moving his chair closer to her and looking at her coaxingly. “Come now, tell your uncle where you got all those ideas and everything.”
Freda shot a look at Caroline and, again looking at her uncle, said in a complacent tone: “I know all about babies and how they are born! A girl can only have one baby at a time, and I know that and I am sure.”