I've known Doris for ever. Her mother worked on the estate and Doris was born at roughly the same time as me. I think she's a week older than me. Whatever, we're both eighteen now and Doris is employed as my maid. It helps that we like each other. We could confide with one another, each of us telling the other their deepest secrets. I found out by accident that Doris had a secret that she had kept from me.
On a fine Saturday morning I'd gone for a ride. It was a nice sunny day and I was intending to be gone for a couple of hours. I had barely started out when my mare, Flying Shadow, plunked her hoof smack back into a rabbit hole and down she went. Down I went, too, but I caught on that she was falling very fast and abandoned ship, letting Shadow land without me under her to soften her landing. Selfish of me, I know, but I considered not being squished by a thousand plus pounds of horse took precedence over giving her something soft to land on.
I was shocked but unhurt. It wasn't the first time I'd come off and I doubt it will be the last. The fact that I'd had time to jump clear made my landing a lot easier. Shadow, for her part, had rolled over and scrambled to her feet, standing there with one hoof touching the ground rather tentatively. A quick examination showed that her leg wasn't broken but she did have a strain. We were close enough to the stables for one of the stable hands to have witnessed the spill and a couple of them were hurrying over to help me.
The chief stable hand agreed with my diagnosis, a strain only, but said he'd call up the vet for a formal check. That was fine by me. I liked Shadow and didn't want to lose her because we failed to make a proper check of her legs. I also decided that I didn't want to ride any more that day, declining the use of an alternative mount. I'd go to my room and start doing needlework. Or maybe not, but I'd find some way to amuse myself.
(Oh, yes. I left a pointed reminder that it was the duty of the stable hands to ensure that there weren't any rabbit holes in the pastures in the immediate vicinity of the stable. Someone had screwed up.)
Returning home I headed for my room, intending to get a change of clothes. My current attire was dirty with grass stains. Doris was going to kill me for that. Deciding there was no need to bother her over getting a simple change of clothes I went straight to my bedroom and then crossed into my walk-in-robe. My walk-in-robe was actually a room in its own right. It even had a spare bed there in case Doris had to spend the night if I was sick and needed the extra care. Hadn't happened yet but the bed was there.
I took my time looking for what I wanted to wear, putting several outfits on the bed while trying to decide. I'd almost decided when I heard Doris's voice coming from the bedroom. I was about to leave the robe and enter the bedroom when I heard a male voice also coming from the bedroom. I slowed down and just eased the door open a little bit, wanting to know what was going on.
Surprisingly enough my father was in the bedroom with Doris. I couldn't hear what he was saying but I could recognise the tone of his voice. He was cajoling her, wanting her to do something she wasn't too keen on. He used the same tone on me when he discussed my homework and whether a particular boyfriend was suitable for me or not. From the tone of Doris's voice she, while reluctant, wasn't outright refusing his request. Finally he said something that sounded like an offer, one that Doris looked like she was going to accept. There was a bit of back and forth but my father had already won the point. Anything after this was just details.
I had no idea what they were discussing so earnestly and just wished they'd speak a little louder so I could listen in. The back and forth finally stopped and my father produced his wallet and extracted some cash. Doris took it with a smile and stuck it in her reticule, happy with the results of their debate.
I was wondering what that was all about and if I should go in and let them know I was there but while I was dithering Doris lifted up her dress. My shock at seeing that was nothing to the shock I got when my father then pulled down her panties, and by down I mean right down, with Doris lifting her feet one by one as my father took her panties right off.
Doris was giggling and not resisting in any way when he lifted her dress up over her head and that also came off. Turning her around her bra was undone and just like that she was naked and still giggling. For his part, my father dropped his trousers and I had the doubtful joy of seeing my father's erect penis. I had to admit that it was rather on the large size. The way Doris's hand glommed onto it she certainly appreciated it.
My father's hands were touching Doris rather intimately. He was nuzzling her breasts, his hand on one and his mouth on the other while his second hand was between her legs, rubbing her quite vigorously. Doris was approving of this indecent molestation, cheering him on and asking for more.
I was wondering if Doris knew just what she was asking for when my father straightened up, pushed Doris's legs further apart, and pressed his cock against her vulva. If she started protesting should I, or should I not, go to her assistance? Silly, silly, question. As soon as his cock started to press against her she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, helping to pull him in. Not a virgin then, I surmised.
He sank fully into her unresisting body and then started pumping into her. It seemed to me that he was going hard and fast but in hindsight I realised that he was actually taking his time at that point. Doris was arching her back, pushing up to meet his every thrust, giggling and carrying on like nobody's business.
My father was relatively quiet, just grunting a little from the effort he was putting in. For her part Doris didn't shut up, putting in just as much effort as my father but spending a damn sight more energy cheering him on, approving of what he was doing, and asking for more.
My father was going about what he was doing the way he did everything, in a business-like manner that was designed to achieve a specific result. Compared to this Doris was also doing this the way she did everything, helter-skelter, and putting in a lot of effort as fast as she could. From the rather frantic note in her voice she was getting more and more excited, probably feeling a little restricted by my father not speeding up the way she wanted.
She finally got her wish when he piled on the energy, more than doubling the speed at which he was thrusting into her. It was too much for Doris who grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over her face, and I could hear a muffled scream. My father groaned and started moving almost frenetically, and I guessed he was ejaculating inside Doris. I hoped she was using birth-control.
My father pulled out, pulled up his trousers, patted Doris's breasts, and departed, whistling quietly. I bet he wouldn't be quite so happy if my mother knew what he'd been doing.
"I do hope you intend to put fresh covers on my bed," I said, pleased to hear Doris give another little scream, this one of shock.
"What? Where? Did you see?" she demanded.
"See? Do you mean did I see my father fucking the daylights out of you? Yes, I have to admit I did. Useful blackmail material when I want my father to do something he's reluctant to do. I take it from your performance that you weren't a virgin?"
"Not exactly," admitted Doris. "For that matter I split my maidenhead years ago going over jumps. I'll bet you're in the same boat."
I humbly conceded the point because she was right, although for me it wasn't the jumps but a particular horse with a really crappy trotting style. My maidenhead hadn't even lasted one circuit of the trotting track before splitting. My mother hadn't been impressed but the nurse assured me it would make other things easier when I was older. I had no idea what she meant at the time but suspected I now knew.
"That's not what I meant and you know it. Someone else has jumped you. Who was it?"
"None of your business."
"I know that. Tell me anyway."
"If you must know it was James."
James? I was running the staff through my mind trying to match them to the name. No-one came to mind. Well, one match did but that was absurd. Seeing the cat that ate the canary look on Doris's face I decided that maybe it was a possibility.
"James, as in our Butler, James?"
"The one and only."
"You're kidding. You have to be kidding."
All I got in return as her smile getting bigger and brighter.
"I don't believe it. Truly? How the hell did that happen?"
"Oh, come on. Surely you don't expect me to kiss and tell."
"Of course not but I don't give a damn about who you might have kissed. This isn't about kissing. How did you finish up with James riding you? Tell me all."
"Do you really think that I..." she began but I broke in.
"Yes," I said, interrupting. "You're dying to tell me all about it and you know it. So start talking."
Doris sighed. "If you insist."
"I do, I do," I told her.
"The incident occurred a couple of months ago, just after our eighteenth birthdays. I screwed up over something and it was a bit messy. I can't remember the details but James was furious. (The hell she can't remember the details. She just wasn't going to admit to them.) He tore a strip off me several inches wide, really reading the riot act. He told me that calling me an idiot would be an insult to all genuine idiots. Then he told me to report to Mrs Dawlish for punishment."
