Tom Fisher was normally confined to the garden, being the game-keeper's son, and therefore part of the outdoors staff. But, venturing near the rear of the big house one day, he had caught sight of a face at an upstairs window, and wanted to see it again, but closer.

For days, he made a point of hanging around near the kitchen garden, in the hope of seeing the girl again, but only the kitchen maids came out to pick herbs for the cook. Eventually, he realised he would have to pluck up courage and ask one of the kitchen maids who she was. His chance came one day when one of the prettier girls came out of the kitchen door in her coat, plainly off duty, and headed for the door in the wall of the garden which led to the road. Tom stepped forward from the prolific ivy which covered the lower walls of the house, where he had been waiting. The girl was startled at first.

'Hello. Who are you?'

'Tom Fisher. Who are you?'

'It's "Tom Fisher, Miss", to you. Show some respect to your betters, ' she said, but her dimples belied her stern tone. 'Anyway, what are you doing here?'

'Well, there's a girl in the house. I think she's a maid. I've been hoping to see her. Waited for days, I have.'

'Well, if its Belinda Stourton, you need wait no longer, 'cos I'm here, and it's me afternoon off.'

She smiled and reflexively adjusted the fit of her breasts in her new brassiere by holding it with her hands while she wriggled her body inside. Tom found the movement brief but interesting. More to the point, the unruly part of him whose true purpose he had only recently discovered found it interesting, too. The thought entered his head that Belinda's breasts looked mighty large, bigger than those of Amy Wallace who had given him access to hers only a week ago.

She followed the direction of his gaze, and glanced down at the front of his trousers, where his interest was becoming plainly visible.

'We'd better walk the long way round to the road, ' she said, taking his arm. They walked round the top edge of the formal garden, where discovery would have resulted in both of them losing their jobs, but there was a sheltered glade, affording them sufficient privacy, provided no-one walked in on them directly.

Once safe from prying eyes, Belinda turned to Tom and slowly and deliberately began to unbutton her coat, then the blouse beneath it. When both were unfastened, she cast them on the ground with one shake of her shoulders, which also jiggled her breasts rather enticingly inside the brassiere. Tom's eyes followed every move, and his unruly part was threatening to thrust its way past the single button which kept the front of his trousers closed. Belinda saved the button by reaching forward and popping it open.

Tom's vibrant part sprang eagerly through the gap, into her waiting hand, where it continued to swell and grow.

'What a beauty!' Belinda exclaimed. She knelt on the ground and ran her tongue round the rim, starting a bead of white cream out of it. She delicately collected it with the tip of her tongue, and smacked her lips in appreciation.

'Mm! Lovely. Just as I like it, ' she muttered, smiling, before allowing the swollen tip to slide between her lips. So engorged was it that her mouth was stretched widely, and she managed to move her head up and down it only with difficulty.

Tom ran his hands round Belinda's full breasts, and lifted them out of the confines of her bra. They rolled easily in his hands, and the nipples quickly stood out due to his ministrations. His legs began to tremble.

'I think I'm going to go off, ' he said.

Belinda stopped sucking him, and let him slide out of her mouth. The corners of her lips felt stretched and sore. 'Well, we'd better not waste it.'

She pulled her dress up and lay down. 'Get my knickers off, then, ' she commanded. Tom eased them gently down and watched in amazement as Belinda laid back, holding her crumpled dress clear so he got a good view, before opening her legs wide. At their extreme separation, Tom saw the fleshy lips gaping through the black luxuriance between her legs, and knelt down to reach them. He slid his fingers between them, and watched amazed as they unfurled at his touch.

'Do you like what you see?' asked Belinda.

Tom glanced quickly at her face, then back to her groin. 'Aye, ' he said, 'I do.'

Belinda smiled. 'Don't take all day looking, ' she said, giving his twitching part a friendly tap.

Tom had discovered the little button Amy had shown him when they had conjugated in this same garden not more than a few nights ago. He ran his finger tip round it, by it, approaching it, and everywhere he could without actually touching it, whilst watching Belinda's face. She drew her breath in through gritted teeth.

'For God's sake!' she exclaimed. Tom looked round quickly to make sure no-one had overheard her, then eased himself forward and lay on her belly. Belinda's legs came up either side of him, and he slid forward until he felt the velvet grip of her little pouch, as it tenderly received its visitor. He pushed on, and her legs clamped behind his buttocks, trapping him in position, and urging him to completion.

He wrapped his lips round one succulent titty, and allowed himself to be gently rocked back and forth by the movement of Belinda's strong thighs. He felt the juices gathering as she increased their tempo, and lifted his head briefly. Staring at him from across the grove was the girl he had seen in the window. He gazed back, unable to speak, whilst below him, Belinda achieved her objective with a squeal, and he felt himself pulse and spurt deep in her quaking belly. He collapsed on her chest, but when he raised himself again and looked, of the girl there was no trace.

He looked down as he gently pulled his wilting part, coated with their combined juices, out of Belinda.

'That was good, ' she said, 'best I've had all day.'

'Have you done this already, today, then?' Tom asked.

'Mind your own business, ' she said, tartly, but in the back of her mind, she was comparing the performance of young Tom with the much more experienced — and much older - Mr Pierce, the Butler, who had crammed his stiff shaft into her willing receptacle just after breakfast, on the floor of his pantry. Tom definitely got more marks out of ten than him. She hoped she had not left things too late this month: yesterday had been the last safe day for her, by her normal calculation — she really must control herself for that week when she was most likely to conceive, she told herself. A pregnancy would lose her her job, and was not part of her immediate plans. She decided to go back to her room and have a good wash out.

Tom's tool was still drawing her attention: it glistened with their combined juices, and it had not lost all its power. She wondered at his stamina, even while she knelt in front of him again, and, holding it in both hands, licked it clean. By the time she had done so, it was at full stretch again. She pondered briefly on whether to relieve it of its burden in the usual place, which was beginning to itch in a way she recognised, but decided that she would use her clever mouth — no point tempting fate yet again when she didn't have to.

She took a breath, opened wide, and crammed Tom's lusty staff into her throat. Gagging for air, she eased him out of her, then adjusted the movement of her head so she could breath while she stimulated him. She massaged the shaft and his testicles with her hands until, watching his face, she saw his eyes close, and his lips tighten. The tool leapt in her mouth, and she began to swallow in anticipation. A moment later, his hot juice spurted over her tongue and down her throat. She quickly shoved one hand up her skirt and inside her knickers, rubbing at the sensitive spot until the warm shudder of a climax ran through her whilst she was still accepting the taste of Tom in her mouth. He gently pulled out of her, and stuffed his deflated friend back into his trousers.