by realoldbill

Copyright© 2016 by realoldbill

Sex Story: A young man does his job with great pleasure.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Anal Sex   Oral Sex   Safe Sex   Size   .

I got to the equerry’s office on the dot of nine; the big tower clock was still striking. He looked up at me sourly and handed me a sheet of paper. “Y’ave three t’day, at least this ayem. Kin y’do that, prick boy?”

“Do my best, sir. Give it a try,” I said with a smile having spent half the night with his sex-crazed wife and lovely daughter, teaching the girl a half-dozen positions with her drunken mother’s help. She was going to be a first class tramp before she was full grown.

I got into my J1 Allard, property of the castle of course, and drove off into the countryside to visit the poor old widow McComb who had been bereft by her playboy husband when he wrapped his XK Jag about an oak at nearly 200 kph. She was a stunner in her early thirties who had been a first-rank showgirl of sixteen or so when the lord swept her from the stage and into his stately home which also held two of his favorite mistresses. She had, as far as I could tell, inherited everything including some gambling debts and exiled the girls.

The butler greeted me with the tiny smile, and I hurried up the wide stairway and right to the front bedroom where I found Lady McComb at her dressing table in highly fashionable dishabille. I bowed, bent to kiss her offered cheek, smiled into her mirror and laid my big, tumescent penis on her nearly bare shoulder.

“For me?” she asked musically, turning her head to lick my swollen glans.

“Of course. I was certainly glad to learn you were in some need, surprised as well since I know you have a number of panting admirers.”

“La, the fools. Not one of them’s worth tu’pence.”

I pulled loose the satin bow between her high, full breasts and peeled her out of her negligee, went to one knee and addressed myself to her nipples which were large, jutting and dark. When I heard her breathing get rather raged and the fingers I had pressed into her got very wet, I scooped her up and took her to her huge bed, shedding my jacket on the way and then mounted her fully clothed, bracing my boots on the footboard and giving the randy Lady what she needed in three-quarter time, just as she demanded. It was a highly pleasant way to begin a day’s hard work. (No pun intended, of course.)

She snorted, writhed, kicked, complained about my zipper, begged, yelled and climaxed and then went limp. I slowed and rolled us over so I wouldn’t crush her. She was a reasonably small woman but very strong and athletic. After she caught her breath and I pulled down my trousers, she rode me to her satisfaction and then ordered me from her bedchamber.

I bowed myself out, got in my car and looked at the directions to the home of Commander Beachly. This was a new one to me so I did not know what to expect. What I found was the sort of situation I had just dealt with the previous afternoon and evening: a proud matron wishing her marriageable daughter to learn something about the needs of men and how to please them. The family, evidently, was in some financial distress, and hoped to marry off their youngest to a bit of money, old or new, it mattered not.

The girl was Lucinda who almost curtsied when we met, a yummy one she was, succulent.

The fair girl and I walked in the garden for a bit, fingers touching now and then, chatting, while I discovered that she was seventeen, had finished her schooling with good test scores, and had kissed a few boys along the way, but was reasonably ignorant although understanding the basic processes of copulation.

We sat on a bench hidden by very high hedges, and I asked where and how she would like to start.

She licked her lips and said she hoped to go to her wedding a virgin, but not an ignorant one. I asked if she was reasonably well acquainted with her own anatomy and knew how to give herself sexual pleasure. She nodded and blushed.

“But, well, I’m an only child so all I’ve seen are pictures, you know, of what boys have, of their members I mean, their genitals. Is that the right word?” She looked down at her clenched hands in her lap.

“Indeed,” I said, toeing off my shoes and then pulling off my trousers and underpants. I stood before her with my hands on my hips and a smile on my face. “Explore, if you wish,” I said when she looked up and then put her hand to her mouth. I was just barely aroused, swollen to perhaps four or five limp inches

She nodded, licked her lips and reached out to poke my fat cock.

“That is the penis,” I said. “It’s function, in matters sexual, is to enter the female’s vagina and deposit semen to fertilize her egg and produce a baby. Understand.”

She nodded and looked up at me.

“Use you fingers, or your hand, and stroke it gently,” I said, stepping closer.

“Must I?” she asked, blinking up at me.

“Men enjoy having their genitals handled, petted, squeezed, even licked. It is the way they can be engorged, aroused. Understand? There may come a time when you are ready, but he is not.”

She nodded, licked her lips and petted my prick and then, at my suggestion, scratched it lightly.

“Reach behind and feel my testicles which are in that sack called a scotum. Be very gentle.” I smiled and she did it, rolling my balls in her long fingers. “Well done,” I said as she held my globular bag in her hand, weighing it. “Now back to the prick.”

“The what?” she asked.

“Prick, cock. Those are the common names for the penis, particularly when it is aroused. As you can see it has grown a bit just now.”

She nodded and went back to stroking. I suggested she use both hands and grasp the thing since it was now perhaps a half-foot in length. She did and it soon hardened and lengthened still more. She let go and sat back as it rose, trembling and blinking.

“My goodness, look at it,” she said. “Did I do that?”

I sat down beside her, patted her thigh, and said, “Indeed you did and a good job too, especially for your first try. Your lover, shall I say lovers, might expect you to do that for them, to arouse them, to play with their equipment shall I say.”

“And that, that thing,” she pointed at my upright shaft which stood red-headed and quivering, “it goes in me, in my, my sex place, my vagina.”


“It’s too big. I’ve, you know, put my fingertip in there. It’s very small and tight.”

“You will stretch. Remember that is where babies emerge.”

She nodded and wrinkled her brow. Then she held my cock gently with her left hand. “What makes it work, make your seed come out?”

“Friction,” I said. “Rubbing back and forth.”

“You mean if I,” and she stroked down firmly, “if I did this some more, it might, what’s the word?”

“Ejaculate,” I said. “Probably.”

“Tell me about condoms,” she said and our discussion went on for a while with my hard, warm cock in her small hand, pulsing.

“Some men like to have their erections licked and sucked. Want to try that?” I asked blandly, my balls churning from all the stroking.

“Do they really? You mean with my mouth.” She sniffed. “I’ll try.” And she bent, held back her hair and licked the head of my rearing cock and then mouthed the whole glans, moved her head from side to side and gobbled it up, snorting for breath.

“Well done,” I said patting her back as she used her tongue wonderfully, instinctively I suppose, and her pink lips closed about the thick shaft.

“If you keep doing that, I will come in your mouth. Do you want that?”

She sat up quickly, quite red in the face, wiped her mouth with her hand, decided she had done enough and stood, shook my hand and thanked me. I zipped up and followed her back to the house.

“I wondered,” her mother said rather conspiratorially in the entrance hall, “if you could perform coitus with one of maids, a sort of demonstration for the girl.”

“I suppose,” I said, “but not today. I have another appointment.”

She thanked me and I hopped back in the Allard, eager to get to the third task of the morning which was Ginger Macaul who had often been often seen with the very top of the social list at the races, cricket matches and so on. Ginger was a first class beauty with an unsoiled reputation and very good prospects. What she refused to give her suitors, she gave to me, by the bucketful. She loved to fuck and was nearly tireless. In my job, I had pleasured her a score of times and each and every time was exciting and fulfilling as well as profitable. So I went through the gears quickly, kept my right foot to the floor and got to her family’s handsome city home in less than half an hour, not bad for twenty miles of crowded and narrow streets.

As I parked behind the house, I saw a flutter of color in the mirror and before I could open the door Ginger’s young sister, who’s name was Melissa I believe although she was called Mouse by most, she was grabbing me and kissing my face. “Please, please,” she sobbed, “do me first. She always wears you out.” She grabbed the spare tire and spread her long legs in a tiny dress that revealed her bare bum when she bent forward. I glanced at the house, saw we were sheltered for the most part and unlimbered my thick weapon, still stimulated by my previous client and by the smell of Mouse’s dripping pussy.

She was an eager young beauty, nubile for sure and, I soon discovered, hot and wet. I eased my up-curved phallus into her tight-lipped cave, and she squealed with delight, dropping her curly head between her outstretched arms. Once I was well seated and she was gasping with pleasure and massaging my long cock with her immature cunny, I grasped her hips and began giving it to her at marching pace, lifting her feet right off the gravel with each upward thrust. “Hah, hah, hah,” I cried and “Ah, ah, ah,” she responded. For one so young, she took a good pounding with style and grace, tight and sinuous, hot and dripping. I slapped our flesh together unworried about the noise. I have to admit, I prefer a bed, but doing it al fresco has it charms.

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