Sating the Reverend’s Daughter.

Sating the Reverend’s Daughter.

I had not long been resident in my new house in Yorkshire before the Reverend Banwell arrived at my door metaphorical begging bowl in hand.

As the occupier of the largest and most imposing abode in the village that is after the Vicarage which itself would have been regarded as a modest dwelling only if compared to the Vatican city or the acropolis of Rhodes. It could have accommodated a good half dozen destitute families but only the Reverend his wife and their daughter lived there with a modest crew of about half a dozen servants.

The Vicar resplendent in the splendour of his purple raiment and white dog collar as I termed it proceeded to lecture me on the need for charity. Sobriety, Chastity, and the evils of gambling. I am afraid his words were wasted on me, I had done very well out of gambling and enjoyed the occasional glass of fine wine and chastity, I couldn’t remember far enough back to remember when I was last chaste.

He then had the temerity to lecture me about his daughter, from his de***********ion she was the most godly creature to walk the earth since Saint Francis and it was an injustice that as a female she could not follow him into the church as an ordained cleric.

I didn’t ask why she didn’t go to a convent if she was so pious. It was obvious that she was too fond of fine clothes to consider the life of a nun.

When ever I saw her she was squeezed into a wasp waisted outfit which pushed her bosoms up so her teats reared to the moon and emphasised her backside which bulged like that of a baboon emphasised by a quite ridiculous bustle.

She was not even young, I mean I am no yearling but she must have been thirty if she was a day. A thirty year old virgin. All that passion locked away ready to explode and explode it did, frequently. God forbid anyone rile her, it was not just her horse that she horse whipped.

I set myself a course to keep well away from her, but my plan to bring the new house to life and swiftly sell it was derailed by procrastination by the lawyers and I remained in Yorkshire for several more days which became weeks.

I saw the aforesaid Vicar’s daughter around, quite often sitting on her horse side saddle as often as not instead of astride and rubbing herself on the saddle as the horse galloped as some of my racier female acquaintances were wont to do when their husbands were not on hand to serve them.

Should anyone seduce her it would be like unwrapping a Christmas present, I deduced, such were the layers of finery in which she was wrapped. A Peacock among pigeons and entirely out of place she looked down on everyone myself included, yet she had done no single thing with her life, no work, no children, not even afforded men some pleasure.

Then the Vicar’s wife suggested in passing the girl would make me a wonderful wife.

Wife, I could no more bring myself to fuck that over starched harridan than fly to the moon.

Which is why in my dreams that night I awoke from a dream that I was doing exactly that with my member absolutely rampant. I had to seek out cook to accommodate me and have him safely deflated in her commodious soft slot while gently massaging her monstrous mounds.

The bloody woman herself then came calling. The vicar’s daughter that is. Straightaway Tipobet she launched in. “Mother had no right to suggest we wed.”

“No,indeed,” I agreed, “Would you like a fuck of tea, I mean a cup of tea.” I stuttered as ber upswept bosoms threatened to cleave my eyes out so tightly was her waist constricted.

“You evil man, you are lusting after me even now,” she snapped, “Well think on, I would not marry you if you were the last man in the world.”

“I think not, you would not marry a Blackmore or a Miner or a Farm worker,” I observed “Perhaps if I were the last Gentleman in the world. you would reconsider.”

“Do not trifle with me,” she snapped her passions rising.

“Dear lady you will explode in a minute,” I observed, “It is a common issue, the steam locomotive has a safety valve atop the boiler to let off steam and the married woman also has that ability but the maiden has that valve sealed and inoperative until married.”

“What are you drivelling on about, I am not a steam locomotive,” she said.

“No but you are virgo intacto I’ll wager” I observed,”And have no outlet for your passion, for all our sakes go away spread your legs and be released from the tyranny of chastity before your brain finally succumbs to irrationality and turns to mush.”

“Of course I am intact, the Bible says,” she snapped.

“I care not for it, in Africa they know nothing of the Bible and marriage and when two are alone together they conjoin and the whole village brings up the children,” I observed, “And they are all the happier for it, they don’t have finery but they have contentment.”

“So why are you not in Africa?” she asked.

“It’s too hot, I like soft pink English Roses with whom I can conjoin as equals,” I explained, “Giving as much or more pleasure than I receive, you should try it.”

“With you? I should rather die.” she insisted.

“My dear my chances of becoming aroused enough to perform in your presence are so slim as to be infinitesimal.” I averred.

“Then pray what is that bulge in your breeches.?” she asked.

“I say don’t be so impertinent,” I retorted.

“Tis you who is repressed, you chase lower orders as no respectable wench would come within a mile of you,” she came back.

“So why are you still here?” I asked, “Are you taunting me, is that it? Hoping I will tear your raiment’s and take you forcibly so you can say “He made me Daddy,” when all along you planned to seduce me.”

“You are quite ridiculous, that is the very last thing I desire.” she replied, but she didn’t rush from the house.

“On the table, raise your skirts I wish to fuck you.” I declared.

“What?” she queried.

“My dander is up I wish to fuck you, to expel my seed within you, have your belly swell with my child.” I explained.

“Dear god you are insane,” she stuttered but remained rooted to the spot.

The table was a lightly built hall table as we were still in the entrance hall barely inside the door.

“On the table,” I repeated and I grasped her round the waist and lifted her up. Her bustle and sheer volume of her skirts defeated me.

“Pull them down not up you fool,” she hissed.

“What?” I queried.

“Pull them down not up down,” she repeated.

I did as she bid, skirt, bustle underskirts and pantaloons Tipobet Giriş all fell leaving slender stocking clad legs and a perfect unstretched lonely slot with the lightest covering of soft downy hair .

I lofted her to the table anew and dropped to my knees in worship. I went to kiss her slot.

“Don’t torment me stick it in me!” she railed and she grasped my belt and wrenched my breeches down popping several buttons as she did so.

He sprang forth rampant like a greyhound leaving the blocks, I was nonplussed, confused even, what in the lord’s name was happening. My member took matters into his own hands and before I knew his helmet was nuzzling her slot, he spread her soft lips and came up short against her maidenhead.

I recoiled in pain, “Idiot!” she screamed. I grabbed at her with my left hand and thrust my thumb deep into he slot, the stubborn maidenhead slowly yielded and in a moment I was able to force my member deep within her. She grasped me by the cheeks and kissed me passionately upon the lips as my member eased ever deeper inside her.

Our hips ground against each other as we entwined as one for several moments until my member exploded and flooded her with my seed.

There was no respite, no moment of tenderness, no reflection on what had transpired, immediately I withdrew she snarled at me alledging that I had forced her.

“What are you blethering about woman?” I queried.

“You forced me, you ravished me, you unspeakable beast,” she snapped completely denying any responsibility for that which had transpired.

“Indeed,” I agreed, “You were most definitely ravished, your chastity is most certainly lost for ever, though I do recall you tearing my breeches open at one stage or have you conveniently forgotten that?”

“No, No, No never, your forced me!” she insisted.

“All right, have it your way,” I retorted, “If Indeed forced you against your will, so what? If you complain to the magistrates they may order me to wed you of face imprisonment,” I reminded her, “And it would be a hard decision, but on balance I do believe I would prefer two years hard labour to being shackled to you for life.”

“Beast!” she uttered.

I continued “But in reality our bodies betrayed us and conjoined with no regard to our consciousness, like animals, we were overcome by a bestial instinct to procreate.”

“Nonsense you are a beast,” she protested as she found herself incapable of admitting what had happened.

I took pity on her “Rosie!” I summonned my maid, “Pray fetch some cloths I have been fucking Miss Banwell and she needs her cunt wiped.”

“He forced me!” she protested.

“Lucky you,” Rosie answered as she approached clutching a tea towel and a piece of old rag, “He won’t fuck us, he prefers to fuck cooks fat ass for some reason.”

“Dear god,” Miss Banwell sighed.

“Uggh you got stuff all over your stockings and your skirt, you should pull it up not drop it when you fucks,” Rosie explained as she went to wipe Miss Banwell’s inner thighs

“Wash her parts carefully,” I urged, “Perhaps a mixture of paraffin and cider vinegar might kill the seed before it does its worst.”

“Mustn’t do that sir,” Rosie replied, “Near killed my sister did that,”

“That’s probably because she drank Tipobet Güncel Giriş it,” I ventured.

“How did you know?” she queried .

“Sheer intuition,” I concurred “You had better wash Miss Banwells skirts and stockings for her Rosie, have Mary find her a smock to wear.”

Rosie went to scoop up Miss Banwell’s skirts, she demurred, but I intervened,”What will people think if they see your with seed splattered on your raiments.”

Rosie continued and soon Miss Banwell was naked below the waist and Rosie had gone to find paraffin and cider. Miss Banwell’s slot winked at me wetly in eager anticipation, even as she scowled at me.

“Very comely,” I complimented her, “But what about your teats, they are sadly neglected ,” I averred and with the slipping of a few buttons they were displayed lewdly for my delectation.

“Oh no!” she cried as my lips curled around the left teat even as Rosie began to wipe her vagina clean with a rag moistened with paraffin and cider. It stung as I knew it would, “Oh no stop,” she cried , “For heaven’s sake it stings I cannot bear it.”

I raced to comfort her and thrust my renewed rampacious member deep into her moist cleft, this time with my lips on her lips,my hands on her teats, and my member thrusting she was fully engaged,even to the extent that she raked my back with her nails and this time the flood was such that no cloth on earth could expunge the outflow of seed I deposited within her..

“That was really rather pleasant,” I advised, “Have Rosie clean you up and I shall fuck you again after tea.”

“Don’t be so impertinent!” she came back.

I pointed at my now shrinking member, “This is your master now woman, get used to his sweet caresses or it won’t be the convent where you lay your head but the street and the whore house, You are a fallen woman now so beg for my indulgence and pray I take you for my mistress.”

“Master, why I barely felt him,” she replied cockily.

“That’s right miss, my fist is better than any cock ent it,” Rosie said as she went from wiping Miss Banwell’s thigh to thrusting her whole fist deep inside Miss Banwell’s passage.

I left them to it.

An argument predicated my return, “It’s only fair, done you,” Rosie was saying, “It’s not fair sir she won’t do me.” she addeed.

“My bedroom now and you,” I indicated Miss Banwell, “Afford Rosie the same pleasure she afforded you, it is only fair and indeed one of the corner stones of the practices of the followers of lesbos as I understand them.”

“I shall not!” she countered.

“Then get out, now,” I insisted.

“Where are my clothes,” she demanded.

“Don’t worry I will send them on afterwards,” I replied, “The bed room is this way.”

Somehow we coerced her into my bed and on the soft feather mattress I do believe she succumbed to her body’s bidding and forced herself to accept her fate and the pleasures it afforded her.

“Do you love me,” she asked. That old trick question.

“You are an average fuck and you will suffice as a bed mate until someone better comes along,” I replied honestly.

“So you will go to prison rather than offer to wed me?” she asked.

“No, I don’t really have the time or inclination to sample prison life,” I admitted.

“Then I want four babies, two boys and.” she muttered.

That was when reality struck home, how on earth had I got myself into this mess.

“Absolutely, spread your legs lets try again,” I replied and I was rapidly lost in the pleasures she afforded me.