LITMIR.BIZ

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might of individual cocks. Their strong, shapely bodies meant they were considered fair game by men down from London. If one were to believe all that they said, it was understood that they had their pick of the pricks and took their pleasure accordingly.

      One broiling day the laundrymaids wore less than usual and so did we, having left our shirts down by the brook, and our socks and shoes as well. At eighteen we were no longer boys and more than old enough to be uncomfortably stirred by the least glimpse of feminine skin. We rode upon our individual branches and swung our bare feet as we struggled to see. Despite the heat of the day, the laundrymaids had brought out a demijohn of ale and were livelier than ever, and their chatter was spirited. Thomas, on a lower branch, had a better vantage point than I. “Look at her,” he whispered.

      The laundrymaid in question had high, full breasts and pert nipples that showed pink under her chemise, damp and clinging with the moisture of the linens she had carried out to lay upon the grass. I think her name was Lucy—well, the name will do for my purposes if it was not. She wore a tattered petticoat that revealed her bare arse now and again as she bent over. Thomas craned his neck trying to see more.

      Feeling playful—and, I supposed, emboldened by the ale—a new laundrymaid grabbed the hem and lifted the petticoat to Lucy’s waist, displaying her gloriously naked behind, which was as round and firm as the rest of her. Lucy only laughed. “Kiss it then,” she said to the other girl.

      My boyhood friend gasped and nearly fell off his branch as the other maid dropped to her knees and pressed lusty kisses on both of Lucy’s bare buttocks and added a few stinging slaps for good measure.

      The other three or four who were watching screamed with merriment. It was all in play, but extremely stimulating for two untried youths. Still, we could not let go of the branches we clung to in order to soothe the unbearable ache of lust. The two women, giddy from the heat and the ale and who knew what else, wrestled each other down to the grass and rolled about in mock battle. They were laughing, but gripping each other’s arse cheeks hard as they pretended to fuck, forcing thighs between thighs and pressing excited pussies together, leaving wet stains upon shift and tattered petticoat alike.

      Then I caught a glimpse of an approaching figure at some distance, a young woman in a hat and full-skirted gown and realized it was Anne. She was too far away to see what was happening, but her steps were brisk and there was not much time.

      “Make them stop!” I whispered to Thomas. “Your sister is coming!”

      He looked frantically to where I pointed and swore under his breath, then dropped from the tree, advancing upon the laundrymaids. As he was clad only in breeches, a manly fire in his eyes, they stopped what they were doing at once. The two clasped in playful lust, rolled apart and scrambled to their feet, shrieking with the others as they all ran off, leaving the sheets and pillowcases neatly spread upon the grass. As Anne came closer, she spied her brother, half-naked and barefoot, and her eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown.

      “Where is your shirt, Thomas? And your shoes?” she asked him, looking about as if expecting to find a female similarly unclothed.

      “Down by the brook,” Thomas said. “Edward and I were swimming.” He glanced upward unthinkingly to where I sat, still straddling the branch, wishing there were some way I could vanish.

      Anne looked up at me and smiled. Her hat fell off her head as she did so, taking the hatpins with it. Thick tresses of dark blond tumbled down her back.

      “What are you doing up there?”

      “Ah—picking plums,” I replied hastily.

      She laughed lightly. “In an oak tree?”

      “No wonder there were none.” The gravity I tried to instill in my youthful voice only made her laugh more.

      “Come down, Edward.”

      I obeyed and landed on the grass not too far from Thomas. Anne had put on her hat again, for which I was grateful. To appear thus undressed before a woman I secretly worshipped was embarrassing indeed. My smooth chest, my lean body, which was just on the verge of growing tall, would not impress her in any way. I wanted desperately to seem a man in her eyes at that moment and not a youth.

      But she was not paying attention and the brim of her hat concealed her gaze. She spoke softly to Thomas about some trivial matter, and I listened in silence, enjoying the sound of her voice. My groin tensed as I imagined her speaking to me in so intimate a tone.

      Visions of the buxom laundrymaids and their wanton play swam in my mind. The two who had entwined their thighs and grabbed each other’s bums were a stimulating contrast to the demure Anne. Yet her much more modest attire was no less stimulating. It was as if I could see underneath…

      Then—damn my overheated brain!—I entertained a wicked fantasy of Anne chastising Lucy with her guardian’s birch, meting out punishment upon quivering buttocks with measured patience. Yes—the second girl would hold up the tattered petticoat again and the others would hold Lucy still, watching with avid eyes—I forced the exciting thoughts away. We English find too much enjoyment in whipping, perhaps, but done right and lightly, it provides considerable pleasure to the giver and recipient.

      I waited for Anne and Thomas to finish talking, and finally she turned in my direction, head lifted so I could see her eyes at last. Swiftly she took me in from head to toe, and the intensity of her gaze made me feel positively hot all over. The midday sun had moved lower in the sky, behind the tall trees Thomas and I had climbed, so there was no reason for the sensation of warmth that afflicted me.

      My eighteen-year-old cock, ever alert if seldom satisfied, stiffened to its full length, restrained by the old breeches I wore that were somewhat too small for me. Anne immediately looked away. I noted the deep blush that tinted her cheeks, and my humiliation knew no bounds. I told my unruly member to soften and it eventually obeyed.

      Not soon enough, Thomas and his sister finished their conversation, and she turned to bid me adieu. She kept her eyes firmly fixed upon my face. My only response was a nod. If she had been able to read my mind…ah, what would she have thought?

      Two years later, during the summer of my initiation at her gentle hands, she seemed to have forgotten all about our encounter on the lawn. From her point of view there would have been very little to remember, of course. The fantasy that had come unbidden to my mind soon faded away, to be replaced by a thousand more—I learned to masturbate often but always with her in mind, no matter where I was.

      Even though Thomas was away in Jamaica, it was a rare gift to return at twenty to the house where I had spent so many happy days with him, for I now had Anne. I very much enjoyed playing the part of her devoted servant during our rambles.

      The manor house, built of golden stone, glowed in the afternoon light as we made our way back through the fields, watched only by drowsy cattle. There was no one looking out from the windows of the house and the world seemed to belong to us alone—and then I remembered that most of the household had decamped to Bath for a fashionable wedding.

      “Thank you, Edward, for your company today,” she said as we began to walk down the allee of arching trees that led to the front of the house. Her words were formal but something in her tone was not. “I did enjoy myself.”

      “As did I,” I answered.

      She paused and looked at me tenderly. I was aware of a subtle shift in her mood, as if she had come to a decision on some matter that had long been on her mind. She seemed about to speak—then thought better of it and continued on, walking faster.

      I kept pace with her, still holding her things, tall enough to look down her dress and no longer the awkward youth I had been. Her round breasts rose and fell with each breath, barely concealed by the bodice of her light gown. It was all I could do not to put my arms around her and stop her somehow. I longed suddenly to kiss her, to make my feelings known, to caress her—then Anne turned suddenly and planted herself in my path.

      My hands went around her waist as her face turned upward to mine. Pushing against mine, her body vibrated with an eagerness that caused

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