Davids French Tutor Ch 02

(It was 1885, and as a nineteen year old boy I was staying with family friends at their large house in the English Midlands. I was there to learn French conversation under the tutelage of Miss. Marie; the family had two 18 year old twins, Anna and Sarah who were also learning French with me)

*

Miss. Marie stood up and rearranged her petticoats carefully, so that each overlapped the one below, then she shook her skirt down until she again appeared modest and less like a harlot. Both the girls looked perplexed and were not sure whether they could go through such an experience which would have been contrary to their strict respectable upbringing.

I asked Miss Marie what my 'embarrassing' punishment would be. "Why the same as the Italian boy of course, any other questions?" she said slightly bored.

"Yes," I said, "You mean for minor mistakes am I required to lie on the carpet?"

"Yes of course you are, and for major mistakes I shall make you look at my lacy petticoats and legs!"

I was still not sure what she meant and interrogated her further.

"Are you going to lift your skirt and petticoats and walk over me until I do better?"

"Yes David, that is the general idea, yes." She again looked bored and yawned towards the window.

"And did you wear the dress you are wearing today for the Italian boy's punishment?"

"No of course not David, The dress I wore in Italy was a very full and wide satin ball-gown, pink in colour, with six layers of white silk petticoats under it and a hooped crinoline, and I wore short silk lacy bloomers decorated with pink ribbons. I also wore a pair of pink silk stockings and pink satin high heeled shoes. I could not bring these to England. I would have needed another trunk,"

"So Miss Marie you walked over the Italian boy in your ball-gown until he agreed to improve?" I said searchingly, my penis becoming interested too.

She was very impatient now and replied curtly, "No David, I did not just walk over him, I sat on him, rubbed my shoes over his face, rubbed my petticoats over his face, I straddled his face, I made him lick my feet, ankles and legs, I squeezed his face between my thighs, I rubbed my 'derriere' over his nose and mouth and did many other things to him until he squealed loudly for his mother, many times. Do you know what his mother said to me?"

"No, I can't imagine," I said red faced, shaking and rather hot under the collar.

"She said carry on! Carry on! Do this more often, all week if you must. This is what I pay you for. I do not mind you punishing young Carlo in this way so long as you achieve results"

My mind raced. I looked away, my penis rock hard. And wondered what this woman was really like. Does she really believe that she is dishing out punishment? Does she not realise that she is fulfilling every nineteen-year old boy's wildest dreams?

We spent the rest of the morning speaking French in the 'present tense' and made reasonable progress. Despite several mistakes Miss Marie did not punish us, clearly allowing her three pupils to get used to her ways. After lunch we continued and again none of us was punished even for more serious mistakes. Remarkably we seemed to have improved and I did not know whether the fear of having to display their underwear was having the desired effect on the girls, or whether a certain competitive spirit had taken root. I was on much better form than I could imagine and made very few conversational errors.

Following afternoon tea Miss Marie issued us with text books and instructed us to read the first few chapters, I sat at the big table while the girls sat together on the sofa. Miss Marie was writing at her desk. It was very quiet except for the ticking of a long-case clock somewhere in the house. The atmosphere was relaxed and I slowly read and re-read the prescribed chapters.

I thought about my boarding school days where I had spent the past ten years in male company. The only girls I had met there were sisters of the other chaps, and then only for tea.

My mind wandered and I looked at Anna and Sarah. They were simply gorgeous. My eyes followed the beautiful contours of their faces, their hair and their shoulders under their starched aprons. I dropped my gaze and studied their legs. They wore indoor shoes, black lightweight pumps over black stockings. Their shapely lower legs disappeared under striped skirts but sadly no petticoats were visible. Quickly I glanced at Miss Marie's legs and again to my disappointment everything was covered up by her long grey day-dress. I glanced back at the girls legs and my mind drifted off.

I imagined that I was sitting on the sofa with the girls. They were wearing their crisp striped dresses over masses of white petticoats. I was naked and sitting between them. Each of my hands was up the back of their dresses and petticoats and down the waistband of their white cotton bloomers.

I was caressing their firm buttocks allowing my fingers to squeeze soft smooth flesh and explore further down. My 'Sir Percy' was standing rigidly to attention while they both caressed him gently and tickling 'his' balls. Both girls were giggling and saying silly girlish things to me and to 'Sir Percy' and shaking their loose hair across my face and my knob end.

Both were licking my neck and my ears. They were kissing me in the 'French' manner. We had open lips, and our tongues flicked into each others mouths, drool spilling as all three tongues intertwined slowly inside my mouth. Over and over again our tongues met and my mouth was probed firmly and thoroughly. Our eyes were closed.

"David, David," Miss Marie barked across the room. "Have you finished those chapters yet?" I replied that I had and she said I could go. I got up with difficulty because of the tightness in my trousers and returned to my room somewhat sexually charged.

On the way I met Charlotte on the stairs polishing the banisters.

"How old are ...err...you Charlotte?" I blurted.

"I'll be twenty three in June Sir," she said with a smile, her hands clasped in front of her.

I stared at her maid's uniform. It was black, high necked and trimmed with white lace. She had a tight bodice. She also wore a little lace cap, and a white apron over a wide full skirt. I noticed a pair of black lace-up boots peeping below her hem.

"When are you off next Charlotte?" I said in a matter of fact way.

"My duties end in exactly twenty minutes Sir." She said looking me in the eyes

"Well I'll not...err...beat about the bush, Charlotte, but have you got ...err..a young man?" I said noticing she had a pretty face, beautiful dark hair and that she was remarkably tall and slim.

"Why no sir, I'm happy as I am for the present." She smiled in a curious coy way.

I looked at her somewhat sheepishly and mumbled softly. "Well in that case if you come to my room in, say, half an hour's time I'll give you sixpence if you'll agree to sit on my face. What do you say?" Immediately regretting being so forthright.

"Ooh sir I couldn't do that for sixpence, though, tell you what. if you don't tell the mistress or the housekeeper I'll do it free-of-charge for you sir." I noticed that she appeared to have exceptionally long legs.

I coughed loudly, my heart thumping and my trousers almost exploding. I nodded at her staring at her bosom, being too embarrassed to speak.

I walked up to my room leaving Charlotte smiling at me, duster in hand, from the lower landing. The servants' quarters were at the other end of the house so she needed to be careful when she came to visit. Dinner was at 7.15 o'clock sharp and I needed to change. It was now 4.40 o'clock so there was enough time.

I waited in a state of delirious excitement. I wondered whether Charlotte had the first idea what facesitting was. On the dot Charlotte knocked on my door. She entered and I saw she had not changed out of her uniform.

"Hello sir, sorry I'm a bit late I had to go for a piddle."

"That's, that's fine," I said, still wondering what I had let myself in for.

" Err... Charlotte do you know what..err...err..um...facesitting is?" I said casually.

" Yes of course sir. Gentlemen guests sometimes ask for it, though to tell you the truth our cook is much better at it than me because of her huge arse, sorry sir, large bottom, I should have said." giggling in an excited way.

"And what do these 'gentlemen guests' also ask for?" I mumbled.

"Oh all sorts; willy-sucking's the usual one. The parlour maid is better at that because she's older and more refined. We draw the line at proper intercourse as we don't want lots of babies in the house do we sir?" I agreed with her there. "Let me help you off with your clothes sir," she added laughing with pleasure, and pulled off my waistcoat, shirt, trousers and underpants. She folded them up neatly and put them over a chair.

My penis sprang up horizontally and twitched wildly as she confirmed that the parlour maid would like to 'get her lips around that one' as she put it.

Charlotte told me to kneel on the floor in front of her as she shuffled forward allowing her cool skirt to push against my knees stomach and penis. My skin's nerve endings were highly sensitized and tingled at the slightest touch. She parted her feet slightly so that her high heeled lace-up boots touched the outer parts of my closed knees.

With her hands on my shoulders this tall beauty pushed her skirt clad stomach into my face and smiled down at me whispering "I'm all yours, sir". My penis stiffened further touching her crisp starchy apron. I rubbed her apron over it slowly and wanked gently.

The exposed end was ultra-sensitive as the skin was stretched to its limits. Putting both arms round her skirt I felt her hips and thighs through the many layers of cotton skirt and petticoats. I felt the weight of her clothes and her buttocks. My penis pushed solidly into her skirt feeling the resistance.

I ran my hands up and down the outside of her skirt several times to gauge how many petticoats she wore underneath. I stayed in this position for a while feeling her sway to and fro, nudging me and teasing me with her knees and skirt.

I stared up at her gorgeous face, above her jutting bosom, admiring her sparkling eyes and smiling teeth. Looking straight into her eyes I reached down and found her skirt hem lying across my naked thighs. She nudged me encouragingly and I slowly lifted her uniform with both hands and a wide lacy flounce of white petticoat spilled out contrasting starkly with her black skirt.

The flounce was finished in three rows of cotton eyelet lace which I fondled, rubbing it against my penis head. Reaching under further I found another petticoat hem and felt its laciness. Beyond that I fingered a third flounced hem which had no lace edging. My hands entered the private warm underspace between the housemaid's legs.

"I'll pull these up for you sir," she said, sliding her skirt and outer petticoat up to knee level. She kept them there while my hands explored further. Taking my time, delaying my pleasure, I lifted the second flounced petticoat which was trimmed with a double broderie scalloped frill. I rubbed this over my penis feeling the starchy scratchiness of the lace. She pulled this one up too so as well to reveal her innermost plain white flounced petticoat in pure white. This must be the one she changes weekly I thought along with her bloomers. I wiped my pre-cum on it.

"Under you go sir," she chuckled, lifting her skirt and all her frilly layers to waist height. I felt like a small boy entering his first sweetshop.

Her bloomers were short, ending above the knee. They were open-crotch and stained slightly with piddle. They were trimmed with a wide flounce of broderie and eyelet lace. White ribbons were threaded through the loose legs.

She nudged me backwards so I was no longer kneeling but sitting with both my legs between her shoes. I moved so I was propped up on my elbows staring up at her bloomers which she pushed into my face as she lowered her skirt and petticoats over me. It was dark, and warm and suddenly quiet except for the rustling of petticoat lace against the underside of her uniform skirt. I lay flat on my back as she knelt over me, her legs splayed, pushing down on my face and nose.

She slid further forward so her outer cunny lips enveloped my nose. I breathed in a strong heady aroma of urine and vaginal juices and felt my penis twitch uncontrollably. She had arranged her skirts so that they covered my upper torso but I was able to touch myself and rub the petticoat lace over my rigid friend. I grabbed a handful of lace and wrapped it around my penis wanking vigorously but slowly. Again I wished to delay my pleasures.

Her clitoral hood was at my complete disposal and as her clitoris yielded to my probing I concentrating my tonguings and nosings on providing her the pleasure she deserved. She rocked firmly to and fro over my nose, chin and tongue, my face becoming wet with her efforts.

After several minutes I felt her increase the tempo of her movements above me. My wanking had also become faster matching her pace as much as possible. She tried to tell me how much she was enjoying it but it came out as gibberish mixed in with "Ohs", and "Oooohs," and "Sir pleases," and "don't bloody stops." This went on for another five minutes or so. I was truly in a new unexplored world.

She was now riding my face at a frantic speed her bottom often lifting while I kept my mouth attached to her privates. My wanking must have appeared as a blur of rustling petticoats.

All of a sudden her muscles tightened, my buttocks were off the ground.

She gripped my head then spasmed violently. I felt seminal fluid gathering in my penis.

She orgasmed, then again, and again her breath coming out in short little gasps.

I shot my semen into her clothing and emptied my balls in a dozen energetic thrusts.

We both collapsed laughing at what we had done together. I lay back staring up at her smiling like a Cheshire cat while she stroked my hair and said I had very kind eyes.

I heard a clock strike 6.00 o'clock somewhere in the big house and we soon parted, Charlotte giving me a little curtsy as she left my room.

(Continued in part 3)