1. Thawing Miss Pentland


    Date: 8/11/2015, Categories: Fiction, First Time, Male/Female, Masturbation, Romance, Author: abroadsword, Rating: 89.8, Source: sexstories.com

    handle. She was pleasuring herself as a whore does as she awaits a customer. She was debauched. Utterly shameless. “I must apologise,” I said awkwardly. “I should have knocked.” Her other hand was within the gown and upon her breast. Realisation hit me. I had unconsciously employed a young woman with rampant sexual urges. The thought sickened me. How far had she led my precious Auguste astray? Was she still pure? Or was she ruined? How could I ask without myself overstepping the bounds of propriety. I turned away and swept from the room. I was greatly troubled. I wanted to sit on my bed to think but I could not. Not with Miss Pentland there. Not with any propriety at least. I went to the kitchen. Cook made me some hot sweet tea. “What ever is the matter Mister Charles?” she asked. She was a kindly soul of uncertain age. Her grey hair and lined face and corpulent belly suggested great age but from my childhood I remembered her as a young woman, flirtatious and popular with the gardeners. I did not answer. “It’ll be that Miss Pentland,” Cook said knowingly, “Poor love, cast out with nothing after giving all her best years to you.” “What do you mean cast out with nothing,” I demanded. “I have not even spoken to her about leaving us yet.” “Well stands to reason don’t it.” Cook reasoned, “She hasn’t had a day off in all that time, she even takes your kids when she see’s her Father or goes to church.” “I will see her right.” I promised. “And how you going to do that what with ...
    being married and that?” Cook asked. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well stands to reason don’t it,” Cook said. “Sometimes you talk in riddles,” I sighed and I went to sit in the sitting room. I could not settle and went instead to seek Miss Pentland in her room. I knocked politely. “A moment please,” she asked. Something sounded very strange. I opened the door. The curtains were drawn but in the gloom I saw Miss Pentland was desperately trying to dress. She had her underskirt on but was bare above the waist. Her breasts hung very pleasantly. Clarissa’s hairbrush lay on the bed, its handle glistening with moisture. She knew not whether to grab her blouse or cover her breasts, and what breasts. Beautifully pear shaped and her nipples were roused. “Miss Pentland,” I gasped. “What on earth are you doing!” It was a stupid question. It was obvious, she had been pleasuring herself again. “Get out!” she wailed. I stood my ground. “I must know, now I see you are a deviant, a wanton deviant at that. Miss Pentland have you debauched my children, my Auguste?” “No, no absolutely not.” she declaimed as she scrabbled to hide her nakedness. “And how am I expected to believe this, after your wantonness?” I demanded. “I am a woman. I have needs,” she said quietly. Her hands fell away. She stopped trying to hide herself. Her breasts hung deliciously. Mesmerisingly so. She looked me in the eye in silent invitation. “Why do you do it Miss Pentland?” I asked as my member stirred. “I have needs,” she ...
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