Sir Harry Higgins sat in the drawing room absentmindedly reading some very dull articles about unrest on the Continent. He really had no interest in other people's problems right at the moment. Poor Sir Harry had troubles enough of his own.
He had been a widower for these three years past after the unfortunate riding accident that had claimed his spouse of two decades, Lady Eugenia Higgins. Eugenia had been a shy virgin of only 16 when he claimed her maidenhead on their wedding night. It seemed not very long ago. It was almost as if it was just yesterday. Her premature demise at age 36 left him with total responsibility in raising his 4 young daughters alone.
When she passed, they ranged in age from 16 to 19 and now the youngest was 19 and the oldest was 22 years of age.
To most readers that may seem not to be a serious problem; but in 1890 in rural England with its strange societal nuances, it was a predicament of some consequence.
The eldest daughter, Petunia, was a classic beauty possessed of a long graceful neck and a cleavage of some considerable magnitude. He had very great hopes for her just this summer past when Colonel Winter bottom's son, Rudolph had shown a high degree of interest in Petunia's winsome smile and generous breast development. That had all been dashed beyond repair when he was recalled to his regiment for deployment to some God forsaken post near the Khyber Pass.
It did not help at all for poor Petunia to be so disturbingly shy with males. She was much at ease with her sisters and all female members of the staff, but seemed to tense up whenever brought into close proximity to anyone with a cock.
He knew he was somewhat at fault in that regard. He had sheltered all four of his daughters far beyond the norm after the traumatic passing of his spouse.
His second oldest daughter, Rose, was not quite as attractive as Petunia. She did possess a superior intellect that never ceased to amaze him. She did have a stunning shade of natural hair that all her sisters marveled at in sheer envy.
Rose had a bit of a sharp tongue that seemed to put off her male admirers. She was aware of this shortcoming and made serious efforts to curtail it to no avail. No sooner had she opened her mouth than Sir Harry witnessed many a young man do an about face and head for the nearest available female. She, at least, was not in the least bit shy and made every effort to come into close contact with cocks of all varieties at every opportunity. Even now, Sir Harry suspected she was doing something quite unseemly in the pantry with the cook's helper.
Sir Harry's third daughter was Lily. Lily was a very religious girl. She professed a desire to enter into God's service and petitioned her Father to facilitate her vocation with dispatch. Sir Harry would like nothing better but he had not the funds to pay the poor girl's dowry for such an enterprise. Bad investments had seriously reduced the latitude for such a transfer of funds.
The youngest of the Higgins girls was sweet little Daisy. Daisy had just celebrated her 19th birthday and was easily the most beautiful of his daughters. She had long flowing dark hair and her facial features made most young men take immediate notice of her. As the youngest daughter, she had been a bit deprived of opportunity in favor of her older sisters. Now, at age 19, it was every girl for herself and Daisy moved in quickly to grab any interested male suitor for her own.
Daisy was very well shaped and there was ample meat to grab hold of in all the right places. Sir Harry had attended to her bath on several occasions and he could vouch for her desirable form.
After his wife's death, Sir Harry had allowed his youngest daughter to hop into his bed for comfort. She was only 16 at the time but still gave satisfactory pleasure with her hind quarters. For the past three years, He had been sliding in an out of Daisy's shapely posterior on a nightly basis. The young girl showed a very carnal desire to be anally impaled at every opportunity. He was very careful to keep her virginity intact for a proper husband. The other three sisters were jealous of their younger sister's activities with their Father, but they did not suspect the extent of their depravity.
Sir Harry knew that he had to get one or more of the young ladies "on the market" as quickly as possible to reduce his expenses. Harry figured Daisy was the most likely candidate for a quick attachment and whirlwind courtship. Her stunning good looks added to the likelihood of an advantageous marriage.
As part of his plan to get Daisy married off, Harry sent her to her Aunt Edith's in London. He knew the old dowager was a dabbler in match-making and an inveterate social-climber of the boldest sort.
He decided that his next project would be the immediate outing of his eldest daughter, Petunia, into the local "pool of available unattached females" without further delay. He informed her that he would be escorting her to the debutante dance at the parish hall on Saturday. Petunia was a little taken aback. Her Father had not taken such an interest in her before. She figured his lack of interest was because of his obvious preference for Daisy's company.
His other two daughters were all a giggle as Petunia came down the staircase dressed all in creamy white. Harry could see she was a most desirable young lady. She made no bones about presenting her breasts in a tantalizing manner sure to induce the attention of many prospective suitors.
At the hall, the music was quite good and the company was both interesting and in a festive mood.
Harry watched his daughter juggle several young men unashamedly like puppets on a string. He realized she was all aglow from the attention she was receiving from her young admirers. He noticed that one of the men was not all that young. In fact he was nearer to Harry's age than Petunia.
The unknown gentleman allowed his hand to slip down to Petunia's flanks once or twice and Sir Harry saw that his daughter was not in the least bit upset with the liberty. Her face was flushed and her breasts were noticeably heaving with her excitement. Harry could not help but be aroused at the sight of his daughter's well-endowed breasts struggling to be free of the restraint of the ball gown.
A rather plain but well-dressed woman standing next to him in the parents section addressed him unexpectedly.
"Your daughter seems to be having a good time, Sir Harry!"
"Quite right, you seem to have the advantage of me, madam. Sir Harry Higgins at your service!"
"That is my son over there by the band. He is more interested in the musicians than he is in the company of young ladies, I am afraid. I am Lady Camilla Jones-Smythe. That is my son Rupert."
"Well, a taste for music is a sign of good breeding, I always say."
The tall woman placed her hand on Harry's arm. Her fingers were long and delicate. Harry imagined them wrapped around his long, hard cock. He looked down into her eyes and could have sworn she was reading his dirty mind.
"Would you like to have a go?"
Harry was startled and then realized she was referring to the dance floor.
"Certainly, Let us trip the light fantastic. I will have a care for your toes."
They moved out onto a corner of the dance floor and Harry encircled the narrow waist of the woman with his strong hands. Egad! She was a delicate creature. They danced together at a respectable distance for several minutes. Then, after a slight change in tempo, Lady Camilla somehow wound up pressed tightly against his legs. His semi-dormant member sprung to full attention and pushed in between the gentle ladies legs searching for her private little nest.
Camilla smiled up at Sir Harry.
"Oh, La, Sir. You have a most impressive staff. I have not felt a member of that dimension for many years. It is ever so nice to have it rubbing my little cunny all over. Pray, take a care or I will be forced to release my inside juices before this dance is finished."
Harry felt his pre-cum oozing from the end of his aroused cock. His hand on Camilla's back pushed her forward on his erect member. She was a bit disoriented and fanned furiously as they moved off the dance floor. He tried to hide his obvious erection from curious eyes. Harry saw Camilla staring at his still semi-stiff cock poking against his tight trousers.
He took a cup of punch to Lady Camilla. She ran her gloved fingers over his hand as he passed it to her. It was obvious the Lady was in heat. Harry was more than happy to oblige except his plans for Petunia took precedence at the present time.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.
"May I have the pleasure of calling on you in the morning, dear lady?"
"Of course, Sir Harry. My son will be away with friends. We can have the whole morning together and discuss whatever comes up."
Camilla gave a pointed glance at his still protruding bulge as she stated her invitation.
Harry kissed her glove and moved off to gather in his eldest daughter. The music had stopped and the ball was quite over.
Petunia was all a flutter. She had made two engagements with the dance partners. One was for tea at a young man's club on the morrow. The other was to the opera with the older gentleman Harry had noticed earlier. Harry learned the young man was both landed and had an income of some 5,000 pounds. His name was Oliver Westcott and he resided in London. The older gentleman was a member of the current government. Petunia called him, The Honorable Clement Tarkington. Harry had never heard of him, but the prospect looked very encouraging. He would make a point of researching the gentleman's background immediately.
.... There is more of this story ...