Chapter 2
Like a sneak thief-she didn't want Reyes or Miss Olson to know of her late-night visit to the butler-Susan slipped from her grandmother's room wearing the blue negligee that went with her sheer nightgown but carrying her house slippers in her hand. Her bare feet made no sound as she hurried up the carpeted staircase, casting fearful glances all about. At the top, she paused and looked briefly toward the front of the house, where hers and her mother's rooms had once been.
The upstairs was deserted now, except for Simmons, who continued to occupy the butler's quarters at the rear of the house. Susan shivered, then proded herself into motion and began walking barefoot down the hall. There was no sound coming from the butler's room. It was late, but Susan felt that she must speak with him even if she had to wake him. She put on her slippers, then knocked softly on his door.
"Krista?" he called hopefully. There was a smile on the nondescript, middle-aged man's face when he swung open the door. It vanished immediately when he saw Susan, and was replaced by his usual lack of expression. "Oh ... Miss Polk."
He was wearing a red and black robe with brown slippers, and he'd answered the door so fast that Susan knew she hadn't wakened him. "I need to talk to you, Simmons."
His smile returned, but it was weary.
"May I come in?" she asked.
Simmons glanced over his shoulder. "Of course, Miss Polk, but give me a minute to tidy up first, please."
Susan was about to protest that he needn't bother, but the door was shut in her face before she could say anything. While Susan stood outside the door fidgeting, the butler put away the coin book and a handful of coins he'd been studying. When he reopened the door, he was smiling warmly, almost seductively.
"Won't you come in, Miss Polk?" he said graciously, stepping to the side and motioning her into the room with a swing of his arm. "I believe this is the first time you've ever been in my quarters, isn't it?"
"Why, yes, I guess it is, at that," Susan replied.
"And to what do I owe this honor? I do consider it an honor, Miss Polk. My, how you've changed since you went away. I'm afraid I didn't compliment you this afternoon. Forgive me. Allow me to do it now. You've developed into a very beautiful young woman, Susan, uh, Miss Polk. Seeing you dressed so casually, with your lustrous hair down and looking so soft ... I do hope I'm not embarrassing you."
"A little," Susan said, looking down at her feet. "I'm afraid you are, Simmons."
He laughed nervously. "Then I shall stop it at once. I certainly didn't intend to embarrass you, Susan. You don't mind if I call you Susan in private do you? After all, I've known you so long."
"I guess it's okay," Susan murmured reluctantly. Actually it wasn't okay, but she needed his help, wanted him on her side, and he had, as he said, known her so long. "But not in front of the other servants, please, Simmons."
"Of course not," he replied quickly, "but call me Rob. After all, if I'm to use your first name, you should feel free to use mine, too, don't you think?"
"Yes, all right," Susan said, wishing he would shut up so she could tell him why she'd come. It struck her as odd that he even had a first name. She'd never heard it before.
"Ahh, that's better. I feel much more at ease now, don't you, Susan? Sit down, my child, please, there, on the sofa. I'm afraid it's rather crowded in here, what with the bed and all, but I do like to have a sofa and an easy chair, and I'm rather used to things being a bit cramped. In fact, I think I sort of like it this way. Get used to anything, you know. It grows on you over the years."
"I suppose so," Susan agreed, settling onto one end of the sofa and smoothing her negligee down over her knees. "Simmons, I-"
"Rob," he corrected.
"Rob," she said, trying again, "I must talk to you about ... about my grandmother and-"
"Of course you must, my dear child," he broke in. "But first I'm going to pour you a snifter of brandy. My stars, you're positively ashen, Susan! Have you seen a ghost or something equally dreadful? No, no, don't object, my dear. I was having some myself before you popped up. You must join me. It'll do you good, you know. Settle you down a bit. You are rather shaken over something. I can tell."
He's drunk, Susan thought. I've never heard him talk so much. "Are you drunk, Simmons?" she blurted.
"Definitely not, ma'am," he replied a bit sharply. "I never imbibe to that extent, I can assure you."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," Susan said, squirming. Things weren't going the way she'd expected, and it made her all the more nervous.
"Quite all right, my dear," he said, his back toward her as he poured brandy. "You'll like this. It's blackberry, and very fine, indeed. From your grandmother's own stock, it is. Now you mustn't think badly of me for having it. Your grandmother was starting to mellow in her old age. She approved of my nightly brandies. In fact, the old dear set me a ration of a pint a week, and insisted that I take my pick from the store in the cellar."
Susan was amazed that her grandmother would do such a thing. The old woman had always been niggardly with everyone but herself, and the servants especially-their pay and living quarters, even the food they ate.
The butler had no qualms about lying to Susan Polk concerning the brandy he'd stolen. There was a fortune at stake. Susan was going to inherit it, and Simmons figured to get it. He had already decided to marry "the stupid little girl," even before she'd returned and he'd seen how lovely she'd become. Now he was thinking that he might even keep her as his wife after he'd married her and gotten her money. It was getting worse with Krista. She was treating him more shabbily with each passing day. He owed the blonde maid nothing. It was she who owed him. His relationship with Krista Olson was beginning to gall him-but that could wait till later. Now Susan Polk, the young heiress, was here. The naive little darling had come of her own volition into his room and was sitting on the sofa, just waiting to be brandied and seduced, wooed and won, along with all her sizable inheritance. It was the perfect opportunity, and Rob Simmons planned to take full advantage of it-before young Charles Lancaster or that slob Jesus Reyes began sucking up to rich little Miss Polk with ideas of their own. He picked up both brandies, sniffed the aroma from his glass and clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he turned toward the sofa.
"My dear girl," he said, extending a snifter toward her. "Smell that, if you will, and savor the bouquet. It's magnificent, isn't it?"
Susan smelled and nodded. She knew nothing about alcoholic beverages, and didn't particularly want to learn.
"Go on, taste it," he urged. "A few sips, at least. It'll warm you from the inside. Do you a world of good. Think of it as a nerve tonic. Now, don't tell me no. I insist. Have a sip with me, then we'll discuss whatever it is that you have on your mind."
Mostly to shut him up, Susan took a sip of the blackberry brandy. To her surprise, it tasted good. She could feel it warming her throat as it trickled down. It did the same for her stomach. The effect was pleasant, so she took another sip. As the glow in her stomach radiated out through her body, she could feel her nerves beginning to ease. "It does help, Sim ... Rob," she said.
"Didn't I tell you it would?" he asked, smiling benevolently as he sat down on the sofa with only a few inches between them. "You can trust me to take care of you, Susan."
"I do trust you, Rob," she said. "That's why I'm here. You're the only friend I have, and-"
"You don't know how good that makes me feel, my dear, to hear you say I'm your friend. I am truly that. You best interests are my only worries at the moment."
Susan sighed. "And you couldn't possibly know how good it makes me feel to hear you say that."
"I can imagine," he smiled, patting her arm. "We've always been fond of one another, haven't we, Susan? Even when you were a little girl."
She nodded and took another sip of the brandy. "Yes. Even way back then."
"I tried to be a surrogate father to you, you know. You didn't have a man of your own class about and seemed to need one, so I did my best for you. I suppose I failed wretchedly, having never taken a wife or been a father myself."
Susan smiled tensely. She had always depended on Simmons, and even looked up to him in a way, but she'd never thought of him as a substitute father, or noticed that he ever attempted to fill that role. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, so she let it pass without comment. But this wasn't the type of talk she wanted to have with him, and she changed the subject abruptly. "Do you think my grandmother has been murdered?"
He blinked and looked away. "It, uh, it has crossed my mind as a possible explanation for her all too obvious absence," he said stiffly. He cleared his throat and took a large sip of brandy. "On the other hand, she might well have been kidnaped."
"Kidnaped?" Susan gulped. "My grandmother?"
"It isn't such a far-fetched notion, when you think about it. She is quite well-to-do, now, isn't she? It wouldn't surprise me a great deal if we received a note demanding ransom for Mrs. Robards' safe return. As a matter-of-fact, I sort of expect it. Have for days. Been watching the post carefully."
"But that wouldn't make sense," Susan protested. "None of us can touch her money. There's no way we could raise a large sum for ransom."
"My first thought, too, when the possibility of kidnaping crossed my mind. But if you'll think further, my dear, you'll have to admit it could be done. Suppose that is what occurred, that some dastardly fellow whisked the old lady away and is holding her. What's to keep a scoundrel like that from using either you or me as an errand runner? Could he not demand that we provide him with one of Mrs. Robards' personalized blank checks? It would be a simple matter for him to force her to make it out for whatever figure she deems her life to be worth. And it would be equally simple to have one of us cash the check and deliver the money into his greedy hands before he releases her or slays her or whatever the final act of his plan happens to be. Would you grant me that, put the way I've thought it might happen, it could make sense?"
More confused than ever, Susan could only stare at him blankly.
Simmons shrugged. "Perhaps I've read too many mystery yarns. I do find them fascinating, don't you?"
"I guess she c-could have been k-kidnaped," Susan stammered. "It just didn't occur to me! I thought she might have wandered off with amnesia or something, or that she might have taken a secret trip in order to trick me into coming back here! She did want me to come back, you know, and even threatened to disinherit me if I didn't."
"I know," he said, and took the glass from her trembling hand. "Let me get you some more brandy. No sense in sitting there with an empty glass." He went to refill the snifters, talking over his shoulders while he did so. "I know she wanted you to return to Robards Manor, Susan. But she is definitely not taking a secret trip. I would know if she were. And it seems to me highly un-likely that a woman of her age could wander about with amnesia for this length of time without being found and taken to a hospital, all of which have been notified and would have contacted us the moment she was brought in. Besides, there's nothing wrong with her mind. Your grandmother has been murdered or kidnaped, one or the other, or perhaps both. We can only guess and wait until she, a message or her body shows up."
"B-but that m-may never happen!" Susan wailed as she took the generously filled brandy glass and slumped back.
Simmons smiled enigmatically. He sat down on the sofa beside the girl, so close that their thighs were touching through their robes. He put his arm around her and patted her shoulder. "In that event, my dear Susan, the unexplainable disappearance of your grandmother will forever remain a mystery. Cheers," he said, clinking his glass lightly against hers. "Drink up now. Better have it all. I believe you need it for your nerves."
Susan gulped. She had to agree that she needed something, because her nerves were about shot. With an unsteady hand, she lifted the glass to her trembling lips and took a big sip of brandy, then another and another. Her numbed mind was preoccupied. She was in a fog, only hazily aware of the trusted butler scooting closer and closer until he had her pressed into a corner of the sofa.
"You're a very beautiful young lady," he breathed.
She heard his voice, but not his words. "How many coins have you found, Rob?"
"Coins?" he asked tensely, recoiling as if she'd slapped him. He took his arm from around her and scooted a few inches away. "What are you talking about?"
"I overheard Reyes and Miss Olson. He was in her room, and he had a coin from my grandmother's collection, that he'd found in a flower bed, he said, and they were talking about the collection as if it were hidden on the estate. It sounded to me as if they thought you and the chauffeur had also found some valuable coins."
Simmons stiffened. His upper lip twitched. "The slut!" he muttered under his breath. Aloud he said, "I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about, my dear Susan. I've found no coins, believe me. As far as I know, Mrs. Robards' collection of rare coins is in her safe deposit box at the bank."
She threw him a puzzled glance. It didn't make sense. Nothing did. She wanted to believe him, but her intuition told her he was lying about the coins. "I'd better go now."
"Nonsense," he said, forcing a smile. "Stay and we'll talk. You haven't finished your brandy yet, and it's too good to waste."
The brandy was helping her nerves, so she decided to stay until she'd finished it, but no longer, and began sipping it again.
"So Reyes was in Krista's room, was he? And up to no good, I'd wager. What else were they doing, Susan?"
"Why, uh...."
"Come, come, now, you can tell me. I'm your friend, and you may need my help. Confide in me. Trust me. Let me help you, Susan. I want to help you, but if you keep secrets from me, how can I? Now, you did eavesdrop on them, didn't you?"
Susan nodded and blushed. She was very reluctant to tell Simmons about the upsetting sexual things she'd heard and witnessed, but he kept at her until she admitted they had done much more than talk about coins. The brandy helped, so she kept sipping it. When Simmons refilled her glass for the third time, she was quite tipsy. Until then she'd been hemming and hawing, but after the alcohol had loosened her tongue it was easy for her to open up and pour out the whole sordid story in all its loin-tingling details. She chose her words carefully to avoid vulgarities, but when she finished talking, she'd told the butler everything except about the, dog licking her. By then, the room seemed to be revolving slowly around her, due to the considerable amount of brandy she'd consumed. Reliving the shockingly obscene incident mentally had affected her, too, nearly as much as the alcohol. She couldn't seem to sit still, and the prickly heat down between her half-exposed thighs was becoming unbearable. Talking about the lewd things she'd seen and heard, telling it all to a man, affected her in a strange and totally unexpected way. The proper young lady felt embarrassed and ashamed, but she couldn't help the licentious mood which had come over her.
The scheming butler observed the girl's sensual discomfort, and had a rip-roaring erection himself. The sound of her quavering voice and the sight of her curvaceous, fidgeting body had a powerful effect on him. Normally a mild-mannered, servile type of man who seduced only rarely, and then by wheedling and playing on a woman's sympathies, he felt masculinely confident in the presence of this high-strung, sexually inexperienced girl. He could see she was terribly frustrated. It was the perfect opportunity, and he decided the ideal moment had arrived. Seizing his chance, knowing it was probably the only one he would have, he took the brandy glass from her hand and set it aside. Taking advantage of her agitated condition, he grasped her with one arm, pulling her close to him as he thrust his other hand between her creamy thighs and forced it under her nightgown.
Because she found them uncomfortable to sleep in, Susan never wore panties or a brassiere beneath her nightie. So when Simmons' hand reached the junction of her legs, it made flesh to flesh contact with the hairy mound of her hot, clefted vulva.
Susan sucked in her breath. "My God!" she gasped. "What do you think you're d-doing, Simmons?"
"Call me Rob," he whispered, and forced her back onto the sofa, mashing his lips to her gaping mouth while she was still too stunned to object. He thrust his tongue into her breathless mouth and stuck his middle finger into the slippery pink slit of her pouting sex hole.
For a moment, Susan was too shocked by his lewd boldness to do anything but whimper and squirm. His insinuating finger had penetrated her satiny vagina clear up to his palm, and to her utter dismay, it sent a lurid thrill rippling up her spine.
"Simmons!" she cried, jerking her mouth free and shoving at his shoulder with a violently shaking hand. "Stop it ... this instant! What are you thinking? What's the matter with you? Get your finger out of my ... my...."
"You're beautiful!" he panted, holding the struggling girl down and kissing along her cheek and neck while he pumped his finger rapidly in and out of her juicy little slot.
"Thank you ... I'm sure!" she sputtered, her mind spinning crazily. "But that's no reason ... no excuse for ... ohhh ... oh, my goodness ... aaah ... quit that; Simmons! Stop it! That's an order!"
"You like it," he crooned, fingering her harder and faster. "I can tell!"
"But ... it's not right!" she wailed, as she beat weakly at his shoulder with her small fist. She clamped her thighs together and attempted to wriggle off his thrilling finger, but her action only heightened her unwanted pleasure. "Ooooh ... oh, please don't, Simmons! I'm scared! I want to go! Let me up!"
His lips sought hers and locked to them leech-like.
"Nooh ... noooo!" the confused girl moaned into his mouth, even as his tongue was slithering past her lips and darting around in her moist oral cavern.
I do like it! she thought. His finger feels wonderful wiggling around inside me! Oh, how awful! I've got to stop him! Now!
Panic-stricken, she locked her fingers in his thinning, carefully combed brown hair and pulled. At the same time, she jerked her head in the other direction, breaking the kiss. "Damn you!" she screeched. "Stop it! This is insane! Quit ... leave me alone ... or I'll pull your hair out by the roots! I will!"
"I've got to possess you, Susan! You're so desirable! I must have you, my darling! I can't resist your beauty!"
While he spoke gaspingly, Susan twisted her fingers in his hair and applied pressure warningly. She could see his eyes glazing over, could feel his pleasure-giving finger stroking deep within her silky sheath. Realizing she had to make good her threat, she yanked out a handful of his hair.
"There!" she cried. "I told you I'd do it! Now will you please leave me alone?"
Instead of stopping him, as she'd expected, her desperate action made him all the more wild for her. His eyes glittered and his face mirrored an inner ecstasy. The pain she'd caused him seemed to increase his strength and fan the flames of his lust. He hugged her so tight she could hardly breathe, and rolled half on top of her, adding a second finger to the one he was plunging furiously within the tiny opening of her hairy portal.
"Simmons!" she gasped, fighting him with all her strength. "Stop it! Ooooh ... oh, please ... aaaah ... don't do this dreadful th-thing to meee!"
But her strength was fading rapidly, as was her will to resist. With two fingers pumping into her pussy, sending a constant barrage of erotic stimulation up to her alcohol-dulled brain, the prim young lady found it incredibly difficult to think straight.
"You m-mustn't treat me th-this way! It's ... it's ... mmm ... Simmons ... oh, Simmons ... ohhh ... oh, nooh!"
What little will she had left drained from her. She let her legs fall open and heaved a whimper-like sob. Flames of lust licked tantalizingly in her loins. Her head was spinning and her heart thumping.
"I've wanted to do this," he gasped, "for so long!"
"Ooooh," she moaned, licking her parched lips. "Y-you shouldn't! It's s-sinful ... ahhh ... and wicked ... and ... and you must stop it ... mmm ... at once!"
"You don't really want me to stop, do you?" he breathed, capturing her elongated pleasure button between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it about.
"Unnn ... agh ... oh, God ... ohhh ... ahhh!" she panted. Her mouth hung open and her eyes began rolling beneath their lids. "Wh-What are ... you do-doing ... to meee?"
"It feels good, doesn't it, Susan?" he crooned, drawing the hood all the way back from the tip of her inflamed little nub and flicking it rapidly with a fingertip.
"Yes!" she panted, loosing her slippers as her flailing heels beat the floor erratically. "Good ... so good!"
"I'm going to fuck you, darling," he whispered.
"Ohhh," she whimpered, her head rocking from side to side. No one had ever spoken to her that way, but she found it extremely exciting, especially the obscene word he'd used. "Nooh ... you mustn't fuck me!" she cried, and felt a lewd thrill just saying the word. "I won't I-let you fuck mee!"
He kissed her with open-mouthed urgency, ramming his tongue down her throat, and Susan was too far gone to protest. Her passion was so hot it melted something inside her. Feeling as if the entire world had suddenly gone stark raving mad, she heaved a pleasured sigh of surrender and began sucking his tongue while he massaged her clitoris and drove her completely out of her prudish mind.
Over Susan's protesting, pleading and struggling, he removed her negligee and nightgown, then shoved her down on the sofa and snapped off the light. He shucked out of his robe and kicked away his slippers, then lay down on top of the nude, sobbing girl.
"Nooh!" she wailed, when he pried her trembling legs apart with his knees and lowered himself into the dominant male position. "I'm scared, Rob! Don't! Please d-don't do it to me!"
"Shh, not so loud!" he cautioned, wedging the bulging head of his stiff prick into the fluted folds of her steaming sexual aperture.
The initial contact of their blood-engorged genitals sent an electric-like shock through her, and it was frighteningly exciting.
"No, no, no!" she panted.
It was an agonizing moment for her, what with her sex-starved body crying for him to put it in her and her uptight mind screaming how evil and degrading sex was.
"I love you!" he croaked, pressing the taut-skinned head of his dick into the slippery slot of her puffy, hair-lined labia. "Love you!"
"Unn, unn, unn!" she chanted, pushing at his shoulders in a final, desperate attempt to prevent his penis from penetrating her. But she was too weak and feverish to stop him. The alcohol and passion had her mind surrounded by a steamy fog of lust. She could feel the blood-bloated head of his rod sinking into her yielding orifice, parting her swollen, slippery outer folds and dilating the tighter ring of her beet-red inner lips.
"Ohhh ... ohhh!" she moaned, half sighing and half sobbing.
It was torture for her. Susan was like two girls. Her emotions pulled her in one direction and her mind in another. The bittersweet pain in the vicinity of her groin was a glorious thing, so far as her body was concerned; but her conscience screamed stridently inside her reeling brain, demanding that she fight with all her might to save her virtue and protect the purity of her loins.
The choice wasn't hers to make, however, because the greedy butler was hell-bent on possessing his young mistress and making her fortune his. He grasped her wrists and pinned them down beside her shoulders, then tensed his buttocks and began forcing his pecker slowly but surely into the moist heat of her incredibly tight sex hole.
"Nooh!" she moaned, chewing her lower lip and screwing her head back into the sofa cushion. The pleasure-pain was becoming more intense. He had his glans into her vagina, with her inflamed inner cunt lips stretched to the very limit around the flared portion at the back of his penile crown. "It h-hurts ... oh, God ... it hurts!!!"
Simmons gritted his teeth and snapped his hips, lunging forward and driving his bulging knob through the elastic ring of her vaginal entrance.
"AARGH!" she yelled when his sleek cockhead popped into her. There was a spine-wrenching burst of pain and a blinding flash of red light. She shuddered. Then the sturdy lance sped into her, separating her flesh and enlarging the slick tube of her vagina to accommodate its girth.
"AA AIIIEEE ... AAAIIIEEE!!!" Susan shrilled, her eyelids blinking and her mouth agape, her small hands clenched into fists and her body twitching helplessly.
The penetration of her secret place took only a split second, but it seemed to Susan as if it were going on forever. Her conscience shouted its outrage while her healthy body was at long last being forced to accept the role nature had meant it for. The confused girl was keenly aware of the invading male organ. She could feel herself being stretched internally as inch after inch of the fat dick reamed into her writhing body. At last his pubis bumped against hers, his glans nudging her cervix and his testicles swinging forward to slap softly into the crack of her quivering ass, and she knew she had it all.
She sucked in her breath raggedly. A tremor racked her shapely body. The air rushed from her lungs in a lengthy, high-pitched squeal. She was horrified and thrilled, shocked and excited, so mixed-up that she didn't know whether to curse Simmons or kiss him.
But now that he'd succeeded in violating the sanctity of her most private chamber, he gave her no respite. The middle-aged butler had barely plumbed her feminine depths when he started screwing her with long, deliberately measured strokes.
Susan's large breasts were flattened against his chest, her rib cage expanding and contracting rapidly as she heaved for breath. Gurgling noises rumbled around in her throat. Her eyeballs revolved beneath their fluttering lids, while her fingers opened and closed with the rhythm of his thrusting dong.
The man's penis wasn't particularly large, but Susan wasn't accustomed to having sexual intercourse and her pussy was extremely small. Even though she was more than adequately lubricated, the fit of their genitals was painfully snug. Her puffy labia folded in around his shaft during each instroke and clung suckingly to the glistening stalk when he withdrew all but the throbbing head from her furry gash. The friction caused by his incessant screwing motions built quickly into a searing heat that radiated out from her hair-fringed opening. The licking flames of sexual passion reached her brain, and seemed to explode there. The tactile stimulation of his plunging peter drove her conscience to the back of her prudish mind, rendering that mental policeman totally inoperable, stripping the whimpering young lady of her remaining moral inhibitions.
"Ooh, ohh," she began to sigh. She couldn't hold back the sounds. She didn't even try. The potent mixture of alcohol and passion had done its work well. There was no fight left in her; her will to resist was gone.
"You like it now, don't you, darling?" Simmons asked pantingly, his hot breath bursting over her ear and his ass arcing steadily between her thighs.
I do like it! She realized with a jolt, but she wouldn't admit it vocally. The very idea that she, Susan Polk, could enjoy the obscenely wicked thing he was doing to her made her feel sinful and sluttish. What's come over me? I shouldn't have had all that brandy! Ohhhh ... that feels good ... so good! Damn it! I don't want him to fuck me! I'm not like Miss Olson!
"Does it still hurt, Susan?" he asked, humping away.
"Good!" she moaned involuntarily, her hips starting to undulate of their own volition. "It h-hurts good!"
Simmons grinned to himself in the darkness and speeded up the tempo, plunging his cock into her steaming slit harder and faster. He released her wrists and moved his arms down her body, then worked his hands under her and cupped the fleshy mounds of her squirming butt.
Instinctively Susan put her arms around the man and clung to him breathlessly, thinking, How awful! He's screwing me! I shouldn't let him do it! It's dreadfully wrong! Sex is evil ... immoral ... and to make it worse, he's my butler ... a domestic servant! Oh, God help me! What's to become of me now?
"We've always been very fond of one another, haven't we, Susan?" he gasped, powering the pole to her as he spoke.
"Yes!" she cried. "Oh, yesss!" It was getting better for the inexperienced young woman with each passing second. Ever time he hunched his prick into her sopping slot, it gave her a tremendous thrill. It mattered less and less that he was a servant, or that what they were doing was supposed to be nasty and demented. Her healthy body had been denied sex for too long. Now that her snug snatch was being pumped by a hard penis, her lust grew by leaps and bounds.
"My dear, dear Susan!" he crooned, thrusting his thick rod in to the hilt and grinding against her curly haired mons, stirring her silky depths with his swollen cockhead. "We were meant to become lovers, my sweet! I always knew it ... didn't you?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" she chanted, sighing and moaning her pleasure. She would've agreed to anything he said at that moment, because the first sensations of preorgasmic bliss were beginning to gather in her feverish loins. "Fuck me, Rob!"
"You, darling!" he gushed, and started humping her wildly. "Yes, I'll fuck you! How delightful to hear you ask me to!"
"HARDER!" she screeched, throwing her legs up and locking her ankles over his pistoning rear, the way she's seen Krista Olson do with Reyes. "FUCK ME ... FUCK ME ... FUCK MEEEM!"
"Are you going to come?" he huffed, increasing his efforts and fucking her for all he was worth.
"MMM ... OHHHH ... AHHHH!!!" Susan moaned, following the only example she had, spurring Simmons' buttocks with her heels the way she'd seen Miss Olson do to the gardener.
"Oh, God!" Simmons croaked, his rump arcing furiously as he humped her with shorter and more powerful jabs. "You are ready! I can feel you spasming around my cock!"
"OH, GOD!" she echoed him, just as the full impact of her first orgasm struck thunderously in her heaving belly. "I AM ... I'M COMING ... COMMMINGGG ... COOOMMMIIINNNGGG!!!"
She threw back her head and emitted a guttural groan as the first convulsion gripped her guts. It was instant ecstasy, like nothing she'd ever experienced before.
"Is it good?" he husked, hitting into her with body-jolting two-inch thrusts. "Tell me, darling!"
"COMING ... GOOD ... SOO GOOOOD ... AHHHH ... OHHHHH ... COOOMMMIIINNNGGG!!!" she rasped, her insides going wild.
It was impossible for her to tell him how it felt. There were no words to describe her joy. Her womb was convulsing, her vagina fluttering and her asshole winking. And somewhere inside her, her soul was being rent apart by the sheer rapture that racked her sweat-damp body with orgasmic shudders. She groaned and flung her head. Her legs fell from around him and began twitching and jerking.
With her velvety sheath quivering climactically around his pulsating organ, Simmons gritted his teeth and slammed into her right up to his tight nuts. The moist sucking sensations were entirely too good. He couldn't contain his semen a second longer. He grunted and wheezed, then let fly the first stream of his pent-up load, squirting it into the depths of Susan's rippling belly.
The first forceful jet of his white-hot sperm gushed from the tip of his ballooning cockhead and thumped into the supersensitive neck of her throbbing womb. She could feel it ricocheting around in the far end of her fluttering tunnel, and it only added to her orgasmic bliss.
"DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!!!" she squealed, her toes curling down and her body quaking.
Simmons had a massive load built up, and he pumped every bit into the thrashing girl, with her sobbing and shuddering soulfully while her pussy gripped harshly at the twitching shaft of his cum-spewing prick.
Afterward, when her passion was satiated and Simmons had withdrawn his deflated penis and got up, Susan was mortified by what they'd done. Her cheeks were blazing with shame, and she felt terribly guilty.
"Don't turn on the light," she said, because she couldn't bear to look at him or have him see her naked body.
But she spoke too late. He'd already switched on the lamp. She burst out crying and grabbed her negligee, covering herself with it.
"There's no need to be bashful now," he said, smiling as he walked toward her with his limber peter dangling between his legs.
"Don't touch me!" she sobbed, when he sat down beside her. "And don't look at me like that! My God, Simmons, you raped me!"
"Hardly," he said, pulling her negligee from her trembling hands and tossing it away, then taking her in his arms. "You enjoyed it as much as I did, darling, and you know it. Perhaps I did force you a little at first, but it was for your own good."
"For my own good!" she wailed, and started crying all the harder. Tears of abject humiliation streamed down her cheeks. "You've ruined me!"
"Come now, my dear, I've done no such thing," he soothed, hugging and stroking her. "Surely you've been having your share of cock at college."
"I have not!" she groaned. "I've never even had a date!"
"Well now, I'm rather glad to hear that, my sweet. I shouldn't like my wife to have been promiscuous, though I could forgive you anything."
Susan thought her ears were playing tricks on her, that she couldn't have heard what she thought she'd heard. She sniffed and looked up at the butler.
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I'm going to do the right thing. Perhaps I have taken advantage of you, Susan, but you needn't feel badly because of what we did. My love drove me to it, don't you see? I'm going to protect your virtue and make an honest woman of you, my dear. We'll get married right away. Then if you're pregnant, there'll be no hint of scandal."
Susan was stunned speechless. She wondered if he actually thought that she would marry him. "I've loved you since you were twelve, Susan.
Secretly, of course. It began the day I caught the son of that e x-gardener-what was his name?-deflowering you down in the wine cellar. A strange way for love to blossom, I know, but it did. And it's grown even since. Do you recall that event, my sweet? I have a confession to make. I could have prevented the loss of your virginity. Actually, I arrived some moments before I nipped that little romance in the bud. You were both so engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't notice me. I stood by watching while the lad removed your panties. It was dreadful of me, but I couldn't seem to help it. Alas, I dallied too long. The boy had inserted his childish penis into you and you were crying out and bleeding before I acted. Should have grabbed him up by the scruff of the neck a moment sooner, I suppose, but-"
Susan screamed. She slapped Simmons as hard as she could and leaped to her feet. "YOU HORRID OLD MAN! SHUT UP, DAMN YOU ... SHUT UP! I DESPISE YOU! IF YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN, I'LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED!!!"
The degrading memory of the incident he mentioned increased Susan's shame till it was bitter as gall and totally unbearable. She grabbed up her things and ran from the butler's room without taking time to put them on.
It was true that the boy had deflowered her, but that had been eight long years back and she'd done nothing wrong since. Her grandmother had fired the gardener and had the boy sent away to reform school, but Susan had paid the most for their sin. Grandmother Robards had thrown fits over it for years, holding it over Susan's head and using it as an excuse to forbid her from ever dating. The old woman had beaten it into the adolescent girl's head that all men were beasts, that sex in any form was wicked, and that Susan herself was destined for whoredom unless she was constantly on her guard against the carnal lusting of her body.
At twenty, Susan still bore the emotional scars of her pubescent mistake. She had repressed it when she went away to college. Without her grandmother's frequent warnings and accusations, she had almost succeeded in burying it in the back of her mind over the past three years. But now Simmons had gotten her drunk and forced himself on her sexually, had awakened her body and made her thrill to the act of intercourse, only to plunge her into a mental hell by dredging up all the magnified sexual shame, guilt, fears and scathing humiliation from her tortured past.