Chapter 1

Wisteria Wigglesworth was one of those irritating females that made unending promises but when it came time to deliver the goods she was off on another tangent like an erratic ping pong ball in a lopsided game.

Most of her earlier suiters were devastated by her lack of dependability when it came to surrendering her feminine charms. Mrs. Wigglesworth was not in the least concerned because she had a long history of saying one thing and meaning quite another. Her personal assistant Peggy Peacock never doubted that Mrs. Wigglesworth would re-marry one day after the terrible loss of her spouse of fifteen years, the honorable Wainwright Wigglesworth in a storm in the Channel that came up so suddenly several boats were gone before the wind died down. One could see the sun once again shining through the clouds. Mister Wigglesworth’s ship the Bristol Bay was lost with all hands in a matter of mere moments unseen by any witnesses.

She had just stepped out of her bath and looked in her side mirror with a critical eye not finding much to be upset about as she was possessed of an almost perfect female figure and had hair and face to match her perfection down below. Her husband had been quite dutiful if that score is of merit. He had diddled her morning, noon and night when he was in port and she was none the worse for wear with his constant humping in all sorts of coital positions learned in the seedy ports of call all over the globe.

Wisteria was a bit morose at the moment because in all honesty she missed a long, thick cock between her legs making her more satisfied and content than a woman deserved in a single lifetime.

Her close companion Peggy had tried to avoid looking at her as she wiggled and jerked under the blanket in the attic studio hideaway. The mistress of the house often rested there when she tried to nap in midday and this was no exception.

The middle-aged maid was of an opinion that “funny business” was going on under the blankets but she had no evidence to show that her employer was anything except a perfect lady at all times even under the blankets in the quiet little room.

It is true that the wistful Wisteria was wiggling quite sporadically under the blanket. In fact, if one didn’t know better it looked like she was in the throes of a feminine orgasm or some sort of convulsion that made her pretty mouth open and close and her knees to open wide like she had something of great bulk between her legs.

When Peggy came close, she could hear her mistress talking to someone but there was nobody in the room except the sleeping Mrs. Wigglesworth and herself.

“Yes, you naughty fellow, right there! Oh, dear, heavens above, divine mercy come down on me because you just made me cum.”

Peggy decided to leave well enough alone and tiptoed out of the room to leave her mistress to her tainted dreams of romance or something a little darker like a taste of depraved lust.

Wisteria was deep in sleep and the fact that she had just experienced the most satisfying orgasm of her entire life was something only her subconscious was aware of at that moment. For a quick instant in the light of the moon shining through the studio window, the form of a man totally naked and with a gigantic erection of impressive size and juicy condition hovered above the lady in the sheets with her nightshirt pushed up to her waist like she was a streetwise strumpet with no moral character or God-fearing code of good behavior.

She stirred in her sleep and turned on her side lifting one leg almost to her breast.

Somehow, her arse cheeks were spread open as if by magic and she grunted as something not of this world and not of human understanding entered her anal passageway and made her shiver and moan in the deepest humiliation of female comprehension. Then, she started to push her bum backwards like she was trying to greet a welcome visitor and her agitation grew to such a pitch that she was soon falling into another orgasm of cosmic proportions.

“Good Lass, take it nice and deep for Captain Jack.”

The voice rang in her ears and she blushed knowing that he knew her fore and aft most completely in a carnal sense and she anticipated the next time he visited her female openings he would make her even more content than before.

At that moment, the sound of a hunting owl came through the window and Wisteria opened her eyes seeing only the light of the moon on the telescope next to her window. She thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye but when she looked it was just the shadow of her own arm moving down to her side.

The wetness between her legs mystified her because she seldom had made a mistake in the middle of the night unless she had drunk too much tea just before going to bed. She used the towel for her face and hand washing to dry her soggy quim and her still quivering buttocks. It reminded her of the time on her honeymoon when her husband had fallen asleep at the bar downstairs and no less than three of his drinking companions had come up the stairs to console her in her loneliness and breathless anticipation of consummation of her bridal bed. She never told her husband about how his three friends had beaten him to the “Cherry” that should have been his by right of promised wedding vows.

She was filled with pangs of guilt after being filled with triple loads of creamy male juice in a manner so degrading and humiliating that she shuddered to think of the consequences if her husband ever suspected her infidelity. In a way, she did her best to excuse her shortcomings by lamenting his absence at a time when any new groom should have been properly mounted and off to the races.

The three gentlemen that had certainly not acted like gentlemen at that time were called Harry, Oscar and Mick.

Harry had banged her the hardest and had given her some very painful bites on her sensitive nipples where she liked to play like a lover to get her slow to respond quim into high gear.

Oscar had done her slowly and made her tell him that she wanted it so badly that she would be always available to him whenever he desired. She hated her cowardly submission, but the sight of his oversized equipment seemed so well suited to her current mood that she was ready to make any concession to get his full weight pressing her down into the soft bridal mattress in a way that would be sure to make her come to her ultimate release.