Generosity - Cover

Generosity

Copyright© 2016 by harry lime

Chapter 2

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Sir Jeffrey was a man of impeccable taste and the finest reputation. He was generous to a fault, most notably, with regard to fostering young ladies of impoverished means. His motivation in this regard is subject to the most dreadful rumor mongering in certain circles.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Voyeurism   Analingus   Teacher/Student   Small Breasts   Public Sex  

Poor Molly Malone was experiencing some degree of difficulty in breathing properly due primarily to the impediment of the presence of Reverend Jeffry Rutherford’s properly christened cock. It was lodged uncomfortably in the front of her delicate long throat obstructing the flow of oxygen into her teenaged lungs. That serious fact was no doubt owing to his determination to flood her delicate feminine gullet with his sinfully inspiring creamy deposit.

She fluttered her pretty hazel eyes at his contorted face above her and even introduced her obstinate thumb into his blowhole with the idea that she could draw his attention to the fact that he had cut off her supply of air with his impassioned demand for oral submission. Somehow, the tongue focused mentor understood the gravity of the situation and allowed young Molly some respite to recover her status quo and lift her face up for further exploitation.

In actuality, it was not as dire as it sounds in these few words on a single page because the transparently dirty minded young Molly was just as eager to please her benefactor as he was to humiliate her beyond the bounds of acceptable behavior. Her oversexed cunt would drown in scented emissions with the slap of his wide black leather belt on her nicely rounded cheek or the weight of his boot on her face pushing her face down into a pillow as he plumbed the depths of her nether regions with his rambunctious shaft of enlightenment.

The supposed virtuous Reverend was already set on a course of spousal preparation with the accommodating young girl after several months of constant poking and other copulation activities that assured him of her devoted attentions.

In recent years, the frustrated administrator had favored the use of mouth and bums much in the style of the French high society to exert full control over his female companions. His first two wives had expired more from a weak constitution than from his interest in their unnatural sexual appetites, but he was cautious about contracting with a third female unable to cope with the demands of his kinky nature in a nocturnal setting. His school for disadvantaged abandoned females was a breeding ground for his constant “weeding” in the sweet fields of feminine mystique looking for a superior mate to complement his style of love-making.

Molly was one of his outstanding success stories and he was certain she was the one to settle down and reward him with a continuation of his family name in the ordinary way of properly behaving couples with nothing to hide.

Each time she allowed him kinky use of her non-vaginal openings for his consummate satisfaction, he rewarded her with a solid gold coin from his collection plate that he passed around with various excuses for its appearance in the middle of a religious convocation. His ability to impart his beliefs on a narrowly thinking audience did much to improve his financial condition and the added import of his maternal aunt’s inheritance gave him the monetary backbone that he needed to expand his brand of theology into society at large.

He was often invited to the homes of widows and women with spouses serving on board a ship of the line or some far-away outpost just to whip them up into a sort of trance-like condition that allowed him to explore their secret gardens without any fear of compromise or disclosure of his true intent. He was careful to carefully cleanse any trace of his horrible exploitation of their sex-deprived flesh before recalling them from their limbo-like state of “in the middle” with a foot in both camps. They sensed that they had been fucked properly but were afraid to call a spade a spade. Invariably they simply put it down to a case of the nerves and washed their pretty quims with the French bathing soaps that always left them smelling like spring flowers freshly picked from the garden.

Molly had already accepted the Reverend’s kind offer of marriage and made copious plans to completely re-do his modest home in the newest trends of fashion found in the better homes of an upward bound society. Money was not a problem, it was just the lack of proper motivation on the part of a man already burdened with the loss of two fairly decent spouses through no fault of his own except for his shocking lack of compassion in making demands on their mouths and plump behinds for his own pressing matters of an urgent nature that required discretion for fear of creating suspicion in the minds of ordinary folk. He was most concerned with how he appeared to others, since his perception to others was his primary purpose and it was a matter of survival in a world that relied on reputation for ultimate success.

Her arrangement with the Reverend was recognized by most around them as a soon-to-happen event even though no specific date had been broadcast to the general public. In any event, Molly was definitely “on-board” with the plan and was more than agreeable to remaining an ass and mouth entry partner ready and willing to provide aforesaid passageways to the Reverend’s personal comforting under the assumption that the date would be forthcoming in the very near future. She was therefore not in the least bit discomforted by the fact that the mayor’s nephew visiting from a nearby university town was placed under her tending care with regard to his bed linens and the washing of his clothing, most of which had seen better day. She seldom had any attraction to younger lads finding them mostly ignorant of the common vicissitudes of life. Of course that explained their lack of wrinkles and nicely toned stomach muscles more closely associated with professional jocks skilled in some sport of national interest. She didn’t really care what his future plans incorporated, why he insisted on wearing the long out of date tights that seemed better suited to beach wear rather than for lounging around with no set thoughts about agendas or planning for some specific purpose. For some strange reason, he had decided to start his second novel before he had fully finished his first. Fortunately, his first novel had been selected for publishing after numerous edits by various word-smiths from the publishing industry.

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