Listen To Me: My Lady, My Lover
The magic, 'word of power,' I discovered when I bought an ancient book entitled 'Majik,' in a charity shop in Inverness, Scotland, really did seem to work. So far it had worked amazingly well on every woman I had tried it with, and I was now 100% convinced that it was the real deal.
Not that I had tried it with every woman I came across. I was very selective in those I spoke the word to, not quite believing that it had any power at all at first. I had decided to only try it with women who I would never have a chance of seducing in the normal course of events. Just to make sure it was really the word that was having the desired effect rather than just me getting lucky for some strange unfathomable reason.
So far I had tried it with four women; my cousin Maisie, an ultra-hardcore feminist lesbian, who was a self-professed man hater, although it has to be said we'd always had some kind of strange affinity, and since I'd seduced her, even more so. Having sex or marrying a cousin is not considered incest, and is not illegal under UK law. Secondly, with the help of the word I corrupted and seduced Mary Jane Rydell, the ultra-religious wife of an evangelical preacher, and then Ellen Smith, a certified genius hailed by many as a female Einstein. I'd like to think I added significantly to Ellen's education over the course of one exciting, sex packed weekend.
Last, but by no means least in the, 'impossible,' list, I somehow managed to seduce the aristocratic Lady Guinevere Hartley-Smythe, a leading figure high up on the food chain of the British aristocracy. Now, given the evidence I had amassed, I finally believed in the efficacy of the magic word, there could be no doubt, and no denying the results.
I lay alone in bed the morning after seducing Lady Guinivere, slowly going over in my mind the events of yesterday afternoon and evening. How I met and seduced Lady Guinivere, or Ginny as she preferred to be called, and how she'd taken me back to her place after that initial sexual frolic in the 18th century, 'temple,' a decorative landscape feature known in the UK as a, 'folly.' The dictionary definition of folly is, 'a lack of good sense, foolishness' or the secondary meaning, which applied here is, 'a costly ornamental building with no practical purpose.'
These, 'follies,' can be found in the grounds of many of Britain's great stately homes. The idea back in the 18
th
century being to make the view from the main house look as much like an ancient Greek or Roman landscape as possible, something like the landscape painting of the 17
th
century French artist, Claude Lorrain. They weren't designed to be lived in, merely to look good, but were often used as summer houses, or as a 'pied a terre,' for meeting a mistress, or whatever. Ironic then that I should seduce my lovely Ginny there, in a building built by her ancestors expressly for that purpose.
The door of my bedroom opened, and Ginny herself looked round the door. Seeing I was awake she stepped into the room closing the door behind her. She came straight to my bedside and looked down on me, with a smile on her beautiful face, a smile worthy of greeting any day and making it better. Unfastening the belt of the silken robe she wore, she revealed herself in all her naked glory to my excited gaze.
'Good morning,' she said breathlessly, obviously excited already, 'I wondered if you needed an early morning wake up call, or if... if you would prefer to sleep a little longer?' Having said it her smile faltered and she began to look a little uncertain, but I reached out my arm, my hand slipping between those slim thighs and found her perfect shaven slit. Straight to the jackpot as her pussy lips peeled apart, her wetness inundating my fingers as they sank into her warmth. She moaned and opened her legs a little wider, standing there, legs trembling as I slowly and sensuously rubbed her pussy and clitoris.
'Mmm,' I murmured teasingly, 'is this wet pussy all for me?' She laughed, a little laugh which turned into a moan as my thumb smeared her wetness over her prominent clitoris. 'I'm not usually one for breakfast in bed, but Ginny my darling, your pussy looks good enough to eat.' She moaned again and her pussy began to thrust back and forth rubbing herself against my fingers, even more excited by my words.
'Why don't you sit astride my face and let me eat my fill of your gorgeous pussy for breakfast?' I suggested. 'I've worked up quite an appetite this morning' I added, pulling her with my other hand onto the bed. She slipped the silken robe off her shoulders and it floated to the floor as she climbed on board, quickly settling herself with a silky smooth thigh either side of my head.
This close I could see every fold of her pussy, every detail, and her wonderful smell permeated and excited my senses. It was a glorious, intoxicating aroma of hot, wet pussy, sexual, primitive, making my cock even harder than it already was. She squirmed around, settling herself over me, bringing her open, pink wetness to bear on my mouth.
'Is.. is this what... you want?' she groaned as I let my tongue trace along every silken, fleshy fold of this superb example of feminine sexuality, tasting her skin, her groin, and then between those gorgeous fleshy pussy lips, tasting her slippery essence, my tongue as deep inside her pink hole as possible, then out and up over her clitoris.
She leaned forward over me resting her arms and taking some of her weight on the ornate headboard. With her pussy grinding gently onto my mouth I looked up, seeing her amazing tits suspended above me and reached round her body to grasp them in my hands, adding another layer to her stimulation. She was enjoying this if her moans and shuddering gasps of pleasure were anything to go by.
Sometimes she would push down quite hard, at other times she slid so lightly over my mouth it was like her pussy was kissing me. I alternated between playing with her boobs and messaging and squeezing her arse cheeks, even slapping her arse lightly from time to time. She didn't react to the slapping in any conclusive way so I surmised that she wasn't into pain, and concentrated my efforts on her pussy.
The great thing about this position is that it's all about her. She gets to call the shots, she is getting off on being in charge, stimulating herself, aided and abetted by you, but knowing just when to apply pressure and when to hold off. I could only use my hands to caress and play with her tits and bottom, and let my tongue and lips do what they could to bring her to orgasm. To tell the truth it seemed to be working just fine as I heard her excitement rising higher and higher, and felt her juices flow ever more liberally.
'Oh my fuck,' she sobbed, 'this... is so good... thank you... oh god yes... thank you... thank... you.' Say what you will about the British upper classes, they can be extraordinarily polite.
