“It’s so sad that their parents died just as they’re
about to bloom into womanhood,” Lady Swan commented as she stared at Celia and
Emily. Both of the twins sobbed
hysterically when they passed by the closed caskets of their parents.
“They should’ve never been out that night. The storm was the worst in a decade. I heard their carriage went over the edge at
midnight. It took two days before they
could climb down the ravine to recover the bodies. By that time, the animals had already taken
their toll on the bodies.” Lady Stretton
was aghast at the thought of what they looked like in the caskets.
“What will become of the girls?”
“The Hutleys were well-to-do. There’s an uncle that’ll insure that they’re
properly cared for until they turn eighteen.
He’s brought in a nanny to care for them. Barrister Nolan is taking care of
probate. The girls will inherit it all,
but they’ll be under the strict eyes of Barrister Nolan. Otherwise, their fortune will be flittered
away or the girls will be set upon by handsome scoundrels that will part their
money from them.”
“It’s only six months until they turn eighteen. They’ll find beaus quickly. They’re beautiful and wealthy. They’ll both need good men to take care of them.”
The large church was filled. The Hutleys were a fixture of the town for
many generations, and the town came out to pay their respects.
“I hated my brother, but he did produce lovely girls,”
Brice Hutley said in a low voice to Barrister Raleigh Nolan.
“Yes, but although Celia and Emily look alike, they
couldn’t be more different.” Raleigh
replied. Raleigh had known the family
since the twins were babies. He did
legal work for Arlie and was intimately involved in his extensive wealth. “We can discuss the outcome for the girls in
my office over a nice brandy after the service.”
Vicar Ezra Marley stood in the pulpit as his large arms
swung widely and his loud voice rang out in the congregation. He was a Hell-and-brimstone preacher. A light dusting of silver hair tarnished his
black hair, but he was fit with broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was unmarried but by choice, not by the
design of the church. Many a lady sought
out more than the comfort of the church from the vicar. He took that duty as part of his calling. After fifteen years as the vicar, no one
questioned his devotion or his honor.
The black carriage pulled by six black horses took Brice,
Celia and Emily to the cemetery. Not
much was said during the trip. Brice was
glad that the girls had stopped sobbing.
It was getting on his nerves.
He’d be glad when he could leave this town and go home, leaving the
girls’ well-being in the hands of the nanny he hired. He knew he picked the correct woman for the
job when the girls took an instant dislike to her. Beatrice Merdle was strict and that was her
endearing characteristic. It would only
be six months until the girls became of age, and he wanted to make sure that
nothing happened to them during that time period. He wasn’t absolutely sure if they were both
pure and innocent, but he knew enough of his brother that he was confident that
was the case. He was sure it was in the
case of Emily, but Celia was a bit wild.
He wanted them chaste when they became women. That was part of the deal he had with
Barrister Nolan.
Finally, the bodies were laid to rest and the ground
covered. They got back into the carriage
to take them back to the homestead. It
was one of the largest houses in the town, fitting of the wealth of the
owners. Brice would sell it soon enough
and be rid of this bother and be much richer.
“Go inside, Beatrice is waiting for you. I have business to attend to.” Beatrice stood at the door, her lips in a
scowl as she waited for them.
“Come inside and get out of those dresses before you rip
them,” she nagged them before they could get out of the carriage.
The carriage took out and left a cloud of dust as Brice
went back to town and the barrister’s office.
His carriage was parked outside and the black carriage dropped him off
and went back to the funeral home. He
went into the office, and Raleigh had a brandy ready for him with a box of his
favorite cigars on the table.
“That went well,” Raleigh said as they sipped the brandy.
“Yes, Vicar Marley gave a rousing send off. Was there any problems with the
constable?” So far, everything went off
without a hitch.
“No, the constable took the donation for his campaign
without as much as a question and ruled the deaths as accidents. The bodies were too disfigured by animals to
do anything otherwise.” Raleigh had been
the barrister here for twenty years. He
knew his way around all the public officials and also the non-public ones. His practice had proved to be lucrative
because of these connections.
Brice lit the cigar, and the blue smoke curled
upwards. The office smelled of old wood,
leather and cigars. It was a man’s
office. “When will probate take
place?” Brice was eager for Raleigh to
be made administrator of the estate by the court and then Brice could get his
hands on the money.
“It’ll be two weeks before the first hearing. I need to get an inventory done to submit to
the court. After that, it shouldn’t take
too long unless some long-lost relative is unearthed.”
“I’ll take care of any other descendant that might pop
out of the woodwork. I’ll use the same
men as before.” Brice had hired two
scoundrels to make sure that Arlie and Edith had an accident. They’d proved themselves to be capable. They found just the right time to do it to
make it look like an accident. They were
worth the money he paid them.
“Yes, very capable men.
I might use them for another endeavor I’m working on in Newcastle. Good men like that are difficult to
find.” That endeavor could be more money
than this one, but this one was less about money. “When the girls become of age, they’ll leave
the town and you can sell the house and land.
I’ll tell anyone that asks that the girls decided to go to London to
live. It was too difficult to stay here
with all the bad memories of their parents still fresh in their minds.”
“And you’ll take care of the girls. They’ll be gone and never seen again?” That was the only loose end of the deal. Brice would’ve rather the girls met a similar
fate that their parents met, but Raleigh was adamant. He wanted the girls. Brice couldn’t find fault his decision. The girls were both beautiful and
innocent. If they weren’t related to
him, he’d have the same intentions that Raleigh had.
“Yes, I’ll take care of that. I’ll get some pleasure from them, but then,
I’ll turn them over to others that know the finer details of selling young
women to men that have wicked and depraved ways.” Raleigh had a long list of unsavory
characters that he could always count on for the most unpleasant and unlawful
acts.
Brice knew that Raleigh would get a handsome sum selling
the girls, but that was part of the deal.
Raleigh took less of the inheritance in exchange for the girls. It was a win-win for both of them. “Beatrice will keep them in line for the six
months they’ll live here. I’ll be back
for their eighteenth birthday. I’ll have
a grand affair for all to see. That’s
all the townsfolk will remember of them once they are gone. I’m off to London tomorrow. I’ve had enough family life for a long time.”
“I’ll contact you if there are any problems, but I don’t
expect anything.” They talked for
another hour before Brice left. Brice
went back to the house. The girls were
already in bed and Beatrice stood guard.
He left the next morning after breakfast.
* * * *
It was a week before the girls could put the death of
their parents from their every thought.
They stayed in the house, unable to go outside. Beatrice forbade it. Celia hated Beatrice more than Emily did.
“She’s such a bitch,” Celia exclaimed too loud for Emily’s
comfort, for she feared Beatrice would hear it.
“Sssshh, she’ll hear you.” Emily was always the levelheaded one while Celia
was always flamboyant and unpredictable.
“She looks like a witch.”
Celia could understand why Beatrice never married. No self-respecting man would ever look at
her, never mind marry her. Her black
hair was straight and stringy. It looked
like she had it cut with gardening shears.
Celia never saw a smile on her face, always a sneer. It was as though her lips were curled down
permanently from an affliction. Her body
was dumpy, with oversized breasts that would spill out of her bodice and hang
down to the floor like udders. Her ass
was plump and sagging. She shuffled
around on slippers so that she could sneak up on them anytime. Her fashion sense was a shabby dress that
tried to hide all her deformities.
“She’s not that bad,” although Emily couldn’t deny that,
after their mother, Beatrice was a big letdown.
Their mother was a fine-looking woman and no one ever suspected that she
had two daughters that were almost eighteen.
Both girls got the honey-colored hair from their mother, soft and
luxurious, although it did require nightly brushing to keep it that way.
“I hope we can last six months without killing her,”
Celia exclaimed. The last week and a
half was bad enough, six months sounded unbearable. They were forbidden to go outside the house
without permission, and Beatrice already stated bluntly that they’d not be
dating any beaus until they turn eighteen.
No way was that going to happen, at least not for Celia. Maybe Emily could wait, but not Celia. She had too many suitors interested in
her. Boys were so predictable, and their
eyes would stray with such ease. They’d
find someone else in six months.
Emily was still scared of boys, not like her sister. They might be twins, but Emily didn’t have
the confidence or the daring that Celia had.
She liked it that way. Celia
always ended up in trouble. They might
be twins, but they weren’t identical twins, not even in looks. They looked similar, but Celia had this look
about her most everyone saw except for Emily.
They instantly knew Celia from Emily.
Emily never understood it and couldn’t explain or describe it. That infuriated her to no end. “If you kill her, you’ll never be free,”
Emily stated defiantly.
“I know that,” Celia retorted. Emily took everything literally. Sometimes her sister exasperated her.
* * * *
Every able-bodied man in the town knew of the
sisters. It didn’t matter how old they
were, but it was the young beaus or the scoundrels that were the most
interested. Their honey-blonde hair was
a magnet, but once the men got closer and saw their luscious bodies, they were
hooked. The sisters looked as though
they were groomed hourly, their porcelain skin was flawless, and their pink
lips were inviting. They both wore
dresses that were cut low to accent their bosom, with a gold cross always
nestled between the twin peaks to draw a man’s eyes. From behind, a man’s eyes were drawn to their
perfectly shaped derrieres that swayed hypnotically when they walked.
Their parents were always around to keep the men away,
but since their death, it grew worse.
The nanny was relentless and never left them alone for a second. It was said that she never slept a wink, her
eyes always on the doors and windows, not only to keep the men out, but also
the sisters in.
* * * *
Emily was content to stay locked up in the house but not
Celia. It was six months now since their
parents passed away and another month sounded like an eternity. They’d both turned eighteen, but Uncle Brice
postponed their party for a month due to his business plans. Celia didn’t know how she lasted this
long. She didn’t let her fingers stray
between her thighs at night. She was
sure that Beatrice stood guard outside the door and would barge in at the most
inopportune time.
Celia planned it for a month now. It took that long to get a message out and a
return message without Beatrice or Emily finding out. Emily would’ve tried to dissuade her if she
knew. Miller Allerton was Celia’s secret
beau. He was the traditional cad that
would do anything to seduce a woman, but Celia couldn’t stay away from
him. Her parents would’ve been aghast if
they knew of him, but Celia had many secrets that no one knew. She might marry a prosperous, handsome man,
but she sought out the bad boys now. She
was of legal age of consent, and she wanted to experience some of what she’d
missed. She couldn’t wait another month.
Celia knew that Beatrice guarded the house at night,
suspecting that would be when they’d try something. So, Celia arranged to meet Miller in the
outskirts of the woods nearby at two in the afternoon. Lunch would be done and it was too early for
dinner, so Beatrice might be caught off guard.
Celia knew how dangerous Miller was, but she still wore a
thin dress that covered her legs to her ankles, but it was drawn tight across
her womanly hips and firm buttocks. She
had to restrain her ample bosom to keep it from being too overly exposed. She’d have a hard time explaining her breasts
hanging freely if she was caught or Beatrice saw her. She told Emily she was going to her room to
read and take a nap, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. It had been a boring six months in the house
with nothing else to do. They spent most
of their time in their rooms, away from Beatrice and her prying eyes.
Celia’s room was on the second floor, but outside her
window was the roof and not more than ten feet away was a trellis, but it was
autumn so the vines were bare. Celia had
checked it when she was outside to make sure it was sturdy. She didn’t want to fall to the ground before
she could leave.
Celia took long minutes to open the squeaky window as if
it was an alarm set by the diabolical Beatrice.
The afternoon breeze came into the room, slightly nippy, but it was too
late for Celia to change her clothes.
She wore slippers on her feet so she could traverse the old roof without
falling. The roof was slippery, but she
managed to make it to the trellis. She
held her breath when her foot touched the first rung on the trellis and she
prayed it would hold. She began to go
down the trellis, each step made her more confident that it would hold her, but
she was still glad to get her feet on solid ground. She looked around to make sure the coast was
clear and then ran for the edge of the woods.
It didn’t take long to reach the safety of the woods as the brush was
overgrown since her parent’s death. No
one took care of the outside maintenance any longer.
She was out of breath by the time she hid behind the
trunk of a large oak. The ground beneath
it was littered with brightly covered leaves.
She saw Miller not far off, waiting for her.
Miller couldn’t believe his good luck with Celia. He was four years older than her, but he
cared little for the age difference. She
had a body that he was drawn to. Miller
had his pick of many women. Who could
avoid his charm? He had broad shoulders
and a muscular chest that women loved to rest their head on after he gave them
their pleasure. His brown eyes
penetrated deeply, but it was his stout cock that gave him his reputation. That and he knew how to pleasure a
woman. Celia was an ideal candidate for
him, virgin he was sure, but she craved the pleasure that he could give
her. He thought himself lucky to meet
with her that day. Since her parents
death she was held captive in her house by a cruel nanny intent on keeping them
apart. It had been six long months. He caught sight of her not far off. He waved to her, and she began to run toward
him. He looked around, not a soul was in
sight. The trees were barren of their
leaves, leaving little shelter from the prying eyes of anyone that might come
into the woods. Miller hoped for privacy
long enough to get his pleasure and show Celia the pleasures he could give
her. He watched as she ran toward him,
his eyes glued to her heaving breasts.
Her heart raced, but it wasn’t just from the
running. She ran into Miller’s arms and
felt his body pressed up against hers, the warmth between her legs
instantaneous.
Her breasts pushed into his chest, and her rapid
breathing made them rise and fall. He
could feel that her breasts were encumbered by only her dress and shift. The moment their bodies touched, her nipples
hardened against his chest. He responded
in a similar fashion as his cock hardened to iron.
It was as if their bodies were one, meshed together in
perfect harmony. She felt the hardness
of his prick between her legs. She was
sure that it moved, proud that she could inspire that in him. The wetness between her legs was
instantaneous, as if it were her fingers that drew out her arousal. He finally broke their embrace, but he only
pulled back slightly. His large,
powerful hand was gentle as he tenderly pushed her blonde hair out of her
eyes. She watched as his lips moved to
touch hers in a soft embrace. She pushed
her lips harder into his, wanting to feel the kiss deeper. His hand curled into her golden locks of hair
and held her head as his lips tormented her.
His other hand was around her waist, and it drew her tighter against
him. His hips moved as he ground his
prick against her pussy.
Her lips trembled against his. “Are you frightened of me or of yourself?” he
teased her.
“Neither,” she lied.
He kissed her again, but this time, he was more demanding. His tongue pushed into her mouth. Her body went limp in his arms to surrender
to the pleasure that shot through every fiber of her being. She gave into him completely. The last six months were sheer torture,
denied any pleasure of his company or of her hand between her legs.
“AAAAHHHH!” He
took her by surprise when his hand slid from her hair to her breast. He’d pulled back away from her just enough so
his hand could engulf her breast. She
never felt anything like it before.
Prior to this, they’d only kissed when they managed to get a few moments
alone but nothing like this. Her nipples
swelled up so big that she thought the tips would explode with her pounding
blood. His hand gripped one of her
breasts and squeezed it. She arched her
back to push her breasts into his exploring hand. His lips touched her neck to send shivers
through her body. She tilted her head in
complete surrender like a trapped animal, exposing her vulnerable neck to her
predator.
His cock jumped excitedly in his pants as his fingers
sought out the hardened tips of her breasts.
He squeezed them between his thumb and forefinger as they grew harder
and bigger under his attention.
She felt his prick against her virgin pussy with only her
thin dress and his pants that separated them.
She couldn’t deny him as her lower body squirmed against him. She spread her legs slightly, but that was
all that was needed for his big prick to find her pussy lips and push in. Her pussy was soaked in anticipation. Then, she felt his hips move away, leaving
her unfulfilled. But, his hand slid down
as she waited with bated breath for him to touch her pussy. She was disappointed when she realized what
he was doing. He was undoing the buttons
on his pants. He was going to take his
prick out. She bit her lips in fear and
anticipation.
Celia looked down as he fumbled with his pants until he unleashed
the thick flesh of his prick. She’d
never seen a grown man’s prick when it was erect. It stood out like the trunk of one of the
many trees around her. Her pussy went
into spasms of uncontrollable pleasure.
His prick jutted out at attention, but it bounced slightly up and
down. She knew she caused him to be this
way. He pulled back from her so she
could see it fully.
As she stared at his cock, he took his belt out of his
pants. He did it so fast that Celia
didn’t know what happened until it was too late. He wrapped it around her belly and then he
went behind her and buckled the belt behind the slim trunk of the tree. When he stood in front of her, his cock
wouldn’t stay still. He’d pinned her
body to the tree, but her hands were free.
“What did you do?”
She felt the belt tight around her waist, and she couldn’t move away
from the tree. Her hands were free, but
she never felt as helpless as she did now.
Yet, she couldn’t deny that she was more aroused by that fact.
“I don’t want you moving away, but I do want your hands
free. Would you like to touch my
cock?” He made it bounce.
Her lips were so dry that she couldn’t say a thing, but
she nodded her head in surrender. He
moved closer, and her hand opened up until she felt his prick touch it. The minute it did, it jumped excitedly, as if
she did something wrong. His prick was
hot and hard. She didn’t know how it
could be that hard. She couldn’t take
her eyes off it. “Doesn’t it like my
touch?” she asked as if his prick would answer.
“It loves your touch too much, Celia. Circle my cock with your fingers and explore
it, but make sure that you grip it tightly so it can’t escape.” He held his breath until he felt her fingers
try to encircle the girth of his cock.
She could barely get her fingers around the thick
shaft. The head was smooth but a deep
red with a thick flange beneath it. The
shaft had loose skin on it but was also covered with thick veins that ran up it
like vines on a tree trunk. Her
fingertip ran beneath the thick flange, and then, she noticed the drop of fluid
that sparkled in the midday sun. She
held his prick tight as the muscles in it strained to be free. She couldn’t believe the way it moved beneath
her touch. “Can you move it like an arm
or finger?”
“No, but I can make it throb and jump like this.” He flexed his cock, but her fingers gripped
the shaft tighter.
Celia didn’t want to lose her grip on his manhood. His prick danced in her fingers.
“Stroke it with your fingers, Celia. Move your hand up and down, but don’t release
it. Feel the skin slide back and
forth.” Miller looked down as her hand
started to move, and he couldn’t control the drops of precum that her fingers
had induced him to release. She might
not have ever done this before, but her hand was a natural. Not only did she stroke his cock, but her
fingers also explored every inch of the shaft as if she wanted to paint a
picture of it in her head.
Celia saw more drops on the head and that inspired
her. She took broad strokes up and down
the shaft, the loose skin pulled by her tight fingers. Then, she ran her fingers up higher as she
explored the helmet on his prick. The
minute her fingers touched the thick flange, more drops leaked out
profusely. Her other hand reached down
to hold the shaft and stroke it as she pinched the helmet of his prick with his
thumb and forefinger. Her fingers
nervously ran over the smooth head as they neared the hole in the tip and the
wetness that she’d drawn from him. She
was surprised that his crème was so hot and thick. It stuck to her fingers, yet it slid easily
beneath her touch as she wiped it over the helmet of his prick. She teased at the hole in the tip with her
fingertip, and she was rewarded with more of his juices; this time, it spurted
out. “Did I make you cum?” Celia was nervous that she aroused him to
climax so easily.
“No, keep it up, Celia.”
Miller knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It was time for him to explore her body. His hands moved to her breasts, but he
clenched them briefly before he began to open the pearl buttons on her
dress. “Don’t stop,” he ordered her in a
demanding voice when she released his cock to fend off his hands.
He scared her. Her
hands stopped moving to defend herself and one hand went back down to grip his
prick once again in submission. She
looked down as his fingers expertly opened the row of buttons on her dress to
the waist. He pushed it aside, and she
was clad only in the thin shift. His
hands went up, but they were harsh as they grabbed the bodice of her shift and
ripped it. Celia turned red as her
breasts were freed and they spilled out into his waiting hands. His fingers teased at her hardened nipples,
but he gripped them tighter and twisted them.
She didn’t dare stop stroking his prick as her hand slid up and down the
growing shaft. How could he get any bigger or harder? She never felt her breasts like this before. They grew hot from his touch, and she cried
out when his head leaned over. The next
thing she felt was wet lips touch her nipple, and then with powerful suction,
her nipple was drawn deep into his mouth.
She felt his stubble rub her soft skin harshly, but it was pleasure she
felt, not pain. His tongue began to lash
across her swollen nipple, not softly, but it rasped across it. Her nipples were so sensitive. Between her legs, she was drenched. If only she could touch herself.
She stroked his cock faster as he suckled her
breasts. He went from one nipple to the
other, but his free hand always teased at the neglected nipple to pinch and
twist it. It was time to move on and
show her the pleasure he could give her in return. His hands deserted her breasts but moved
lower.
His hands brushed her hand that stroked his prick, but it
continued to move lower. Her nipples
swelled from the cool breeze on the wet tips.
His hands went to her dress, and she felt him grab it in his fingers and
raise it up her legs. She tried to
escape. This had gone too far, but she
found her body bound helplessly to the tree.
When she tried to pull away, the belt grew so tight across her belly
that she couldn’t take in a deep breath.
Her body shuddered, not in pleasure but in excitement at being bound and
unable to defend herself. “No, don’t,
please, I’m innocent, no,” she begged, yet her hand never stopped stroking his
prick. She cradled it in her hand as she
stroked it.
“I’ll not take your innocence, but I’ll show you the
pleasure you can receive.” He yanked her
dress up along with her shift. She wore
silk bloomers, but his hand slipped inside.
The fragile garment couldn’t stand the pressure as his large hand
stretched the fabric until it tore. His
fingers pushed deeper inside, and they slid over the fine hairs of her bush,
but it was her pussy lips that he sought.
He ripped her bloomers, but his fingers were gentle as he
teased her pussy lips, just as her fingers had done. He spread her lips open, and then, she felt a
calloused finger slide between them and rub the soft, wet inner lips. She couldn’t stop the flood of juices his
fingers provoked. He knew his way around
a woman as the tip of a finger sought out her pleasure button. He found it expertly, and she cried out when
the finger rubbed over her swelling button.
All of her senses were drawn to that very spot. She whimpered in pleasure.
His finger ran over her pleasure button once again. “Do you want me to make you climax,
Celia?” His fingertip rubbed the very
tip of her button once again to entice her.
“Yes, yes,” she cried out.
“Yes what, Celia.
What do you want me to do?” He
wanted her to beg for it.
She struggled against the belt that held her pinned to
the tree to make her feel how powerless she was. “Make me cum,” she whimpered in surrender.
“Stroke my cock.
When I cum, I want you to cum with me?”
He felt her hand stroke his cock faster.
Fingers curled over the head and rubbed the tip to extract more of his
leaking cum. Then, she ran a fingernail
over the thick ridge, not sure if on purpose or by accident, but it provoked
another spurt of precum. “Grab my
balls. That’s where my
cum is.”
Her other hand slipped inside his pants and shoved down
hard until her fingers went through the wiry pubic hairs and found his ball
sack. The skin felt wrinkled, but then,
her fingers felt his balls roll around inside.
She sought them out, elusive as they tried to escape her grasp, but she
was eager to capture them. She needed to
cum and cum soon. She didn’t know if she
could wait until he did, so she had to do everything she could to make him cum.
He teased a finger around her virginal opening, but he didn’t
dare take her innocence. He struggled
not to cum, but as soon as her fingers gripped his balls, he had no
choice. His body went rigid as every
muscle tightened in anticipation. “Now,
Celia, now cum with me.”
He pinched her pleasure button and that was all that was
needed. The minute her hand was
blanketed in his thick crème, she came explosively. She never felt anything like it as her body
shook. Her nipples felt as though they’d
exploded, but it was her pussy that gushed her juices all over his hand just as
he did with her. Her fingers milked his
balls. She clenched on them but
softly. She knew a man’s balls were
sensitive. She looked down to watch as
his prick ejected thick white crème. It
went all over her hand, but it also landed on her dress. She didn’t know it would shoot out with such
power or would be so profuse. Her hand
continued to stroke his prick, easier now as her fingers slid easily on his
juices. Three, four times he shot out
before she felt his prick lose some of its greatness. She continued to stroke it but with less
urgently to ring out a few more drops of cum from it. His hand between her legs stayed there, but it
no longer moved. Her body shuddered one
last time. Her legs felt as though they
were limp, thankful for the belt that held her pinned to the tree, otherwise
she would’ve fallen to the ground.
Miller undid the belt around her waist. He put it back on as he put his cock back
into his pants. He watched her as she
tried to get dressed again, but he made it difficult in his haste to uncover
her. Her shift was torn, but he couldn’t
tell when she buttoned up her dress. But
her nipples gave her away, still hard beneath the thin dress. She pulled up her bloomers and her dress
slipped down to cover her legs. She looked
almost presentable except for the flush on her skin. It was the flush of a woman that had gotten
her pleasure.
They talked for a few minutes, but Celia had to get home
before Beatrice found out she was missing.
It was awkward now that both of them had their pleasure. “I’ll see you at my coming-out party that my
uncle is giving Emily and me next month.
It’s going to be a masquerade party.”
“I can’t wait.
Then, we’ll be rid of your uncle and your nanny.” He thought he might marry her now that she’d
be wealthy. It was time to settle down
with money.
Celia managed to get back into her room without being
caught. She hid her dress and
shift. She’d destroy it when she had the
opportunity. She took one last look at
the dress. Her fingers strayed over the
wet spot where Miller had cum on her.
She ran her fingers over the spot then drew her fingers to her
lips. She licked her fingers and
grimaced at the taste. It was thick and
salty, very unpleasant, yet she didn’t pull her fingers from her mouth until
they glistened with her spit.