David Shaw, Victorian Messenger Ch. 05

"My parents sent me those," she said, "from Constantinople," she continued.

"Yes Laura we know your father is in the Diplomatic Corps," said Lady Bellingham now anxious to get the girls seated and the meal underway.

To cut a long story short they ate three courses which I helped serve and kept them amused by pinching them and telling silly jokes. At one point I crawled under the tablecloth to where Lady Bellingham was sitting at the head of the table and, hidden beneath the table cloth, I lifted up her dress and petticoats and eased my head between her feet, then her knees and then between her thighs.

All the time she opened her legs and allowed me unrestrained access to her fanny as I began diddling her with my long tongue.

I felt little feet kick against my sides, from the girls, as I knelt in front of 'the mistress of the house' on my hands and knees.

I have to admit that she said not a word to divulge my presence and, although I did not take her to her climax, I could tell she was pleased with my performance as she patted my head like an old family dog.

I remained under her dress until all the courses were complete and heard the girls' feet disappear into the drawing room which housed the grand piano. Lady Bellingham waited until the very last girl had left then opened her legs completely for me to continue my tonguing. She slid forwards and now in front of me was her wet gaping hairy cunt. It didn't take too many flicks of my tongue on her clitty to elevate her to her climax and she groaned and moaned in an almost delirious manner. Once sated she patted my head and I withdrew and emerged at the opposite end of the table and smiled at her and took a bow.

"Thank you 'Timmy the Clown', that was perfect. Perhaps we'll repeat our pleasures later tonight?" said Lady Victoria Bellingham using the royal 'we' for some obscure reason.

I frizzed up my blonde curls, smiled and strode into the drawing room where 'Madam Destiny', Geraldine McWilliams, now devoid of her shawl, and her sister 'Gypsy Saffron,' Louisa Price-Fenton, were organising a musical evening of parlour songs.

Each of the girls was given the opportunity of either singing a song of her choice or playing the pianoforte. I sat at the back of the room and listened to every girl in turn. Georgia Snape-Cheddington caught my eye. There was something challenging about this tall girl's mannerisms and the way she stood with her feet firmly apart as she sang a song based on a poem written by Christina Rossetti.

"A Birthday,"

"My heart is like a singing bird, Whose nest is in a watered shoot;

My heart is like an apple tree, Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;

My heart is like a rainbow shell ,That paddles in a halcyon sea;

My heart is gladder than all these, Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes;

Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes;

Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleur-de-lys;

Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me."

I clapped and clapped until my hands felt really sore. In my ridiculous clown's suit all I could think of was Georgia Snape-Cheddington and her grey and red dress decorated with bows, pleats and ruches and her black stockinged ankles and two inch kitten-heeled slippers.

I saw myself with my head inside this girl's full dress and petticoats and her moaning with pleasure on the tip of my tongue. Of all the young ladies in the room I was determined to push this one to a 'new dimension of pleasure'. I just wondered when that would be and when would I have the opportunity.

***

After the Meal

***

Following the concert the girls were offered confectionery and 'pudding-wine' in the form of Marsala and peach brandy. I took a small glass of elderberry wine but made sure that I did not drink too much as I had to remain alert enough to pleasure the girls and was determined not to fall asleep on the job, as it were.

At nine o'clock Lady Bellingham announced that I, 'Timmy the Clown' and 'underskirt boy', would take the girls up to the upper bedroom and 'entertain' them until it was time to retire for the night. My penis began to stir inside my loose wildly coloured clown trousers. The girls all looked at me and for some strange reason I turned beetroot red. I have to admit that I was more used to orally pleasuring single middle-aged ladies and not twelve young girls between the ages of eighteen and twenty five. I smiled back and stared lecherously at their feet under their wide skirt hems.

Lucy walked over and sat on my lap and ruffled my hair. The weight and feel of her warm thighs and arse caused my penis to extend further. She put her arm around me and kissed me on the cheek. She was taller than I, and I slipped my hand around her waist and felt her smooth skin through her bodice. Her hot breath and girlish freshness and fidgeting drove me slowly wild with lust and my erection pushed hard up against her buttocks inside her dress.

"We must all go now," said Lucy taking my hand as if I were some virgin bride on her wedding night. My erection pushed my trousers out horizontally and I was aware of giggling from the younger girls. As I walked up the stairs I passed Mildred and Mrs. Morrison who wished me luck. I felt I would need it. It was going to be along night.

***

The Bedroom

***

In the bedroom it was now quite dark and several candlesticks had been arranged on the washstand and on various chests of drawers. The room had a cheery glow and the young ladies' eyes sparkled in the flickering light.

"Me first," insisted Lucy sitting on the bed with the others finding chairs and sitting on an ottoman. There was also a low narrow padded wooden bench and three girls found enough space to sit on this.

In an instant I had pushed Lucy Bellingham on to her back, across the centre of the bed and tickled her around her ribs. She shrieked with laughter and called me a 'naughty fellow'. I beamed at her and fell to my knees at her feet. She looked down at me and stuck out her tongue and the other girls giggled. Someone tapped me on the shoulder then disappeared into the gloom. I turned and pretended to be annoyed. There was more laughter and comments regarding my trousers resembling a 'big top'. My stiff penis did make my baggy trousers look like a circus tent. I stuck out my tongue at Lucy and she giggled knowing that I would soon be diddling her with it.

"Touch your nose with it Timmy," shouted Matilda Scott-Rippon, whose hair was in a spiral bun. I did as I was told and several girls said that they wished to be next.

Phoebe Bellingham locked the door and said, in a whisper, "We don't want Mamma or Aunt Geraldine and Louisa disturbing us do we?" and the others agreed.

I pushed Lucy's feet apart and caressed her ankles above her kitten-heeled slippers. Her black silk stockings shone in the candlelight. I ran my hands up the outer sides of her lower legs up to her knees. I could feel that her skin was very smooth and taught through her stockings and imagined that this must be the first time she had been touched by a man.

"Come on 'Timmy the Clown', let's see some action," said someone behind me.

"Oh do shut up Edwina," yelled Laura Rhys-Stansfield from the other side of the bed.

I took things slowly as I wished Lucy to experience a perfect orgasm on her birthday. I slowly kissed her on her ankles, spending equal amounts of time on her left and upon her right. I rubbed my cheeks against her shins and savoured the feel and touch of petticoat lace where it began to spill out in a wide arc from ankle to ankle. I then lifted her dress and at least four silk lacy petticoats, and slid my head between her legs.

She parted her stocking clad knees and allowed me to push myself up to her thighs. The odour from her young body was like nectar. Her musky sweetness drew me in like a magnet. Her delicate open crotch silk drawers smelled of lavender and I marveled at the little tuft of curls that guarded her portals. Inside her petticoats and dress I set about my task of taking her to her climax.

She flinched as I licked my way up and down her cleft. Gently I opened her outer lips and watched her inner lips glisten in front of me. Above me her four layers of cool white petticoats made the familiar frou-frou swishing sound which drove red-blooded males, such as I, into a sexual frenzy.

I felt her hands on my head as I slid my tongue under her clitoral hood and coaxed out 'Miss Clitty'. Her movements appeared more urgent as she jerked herself upwards off the bed. I continued diddling her mercilessly for many minutes. After a while I sensed she was gasping for breath and her thrusts slowed down and decreased in intensity.

Then, with my tongue completely buried in her sopping fanny, I felt it.

First there were tiny pulsations rippling inside her shivering body and this gave way to fierce vaginal spasms as her vulva muscles tightened and gripped my tongue. She screamed and laughed at the same time and her friends clapped and shouted words of appreciation and encouragement. I slid out of her vagina and from under her dress and petticoats. I kissed her twice on each foot and stood up and took a bow.

The girls gathered around Lucy, and gathered around me. I realised that I was the shortest person in the room by a good few inches but I didn't mind. I was enjoying what I was doing and getting paid for it too.

"Me next," said Selina Barclay-Farthing, a black haired girl in a pale blue dress.

I threw myself on the bed and in the candlelight I noticed that there was a small precum stain seeping through my trousers.

"No," said Beatrice Bernhard "We should allow Lucy's sister go next," she exclaimed and the others agreed.

I lay on my back next to Lucy and she kissed me full on the lips. I smiled inanely and encouraged Phoebe Bellingham to get on the bed. Lucy made space for her eighteen year old younger sister who had taken off her slippers and was clambering about on the bedspread in an ungainly fashion seeking guidance from me.

"Kneel over me facing my head," I implored her and reached out to place one stocking clad foot, then the other, on each side of my chest.

She lifted up her dark green striped dress to her knees and above me I noticed four cream coloured silk petticoats trimmed in exquisite silk Alencon, Mechlin and Chantilly lace. Her silk drawers were trimmed with Point de Gaze lace of amazing delicacy.

She knelt over my chest with her legs apart and with her crotchless drawers open to reveal her little cunny lips ripe for diddling. I took no time at all to slide underneath her so that my face was in contact with her genitalia. She dropped and shook her petticoats down all around me and I was in almost complete darkness inside this beautiful young lady's skirt. I lifted her arse and readjusted my position so that my lips rubbed against her outer labia as she knelt straddling my face. Soon I had my tongue deep inside her and my fingers probing her anus. She twitched at every touch as if she were an automaton.

"Is it nice Phoebe?" I heard Lucy say.

"I feel so dreamy and cosy," replied her sister and took quick little intakes of breath at each wiggle of my long tongue inside her.

My erection still felt fiercely rampant and I wondered whether I should get one of the ladies to 'wank me off' as it were.

While still pleasuring Miss Bellingham I reached down to my trousers and unbuttoned the waistband and flies and lifted my arse and eased them down to my knees. I wasn't wearing underpants so the sight which greeted the girls caused them to giggle and pass one or two favourable comments. I felt two pairs of hands remove my clown shoes and socks, and pull my trousers off so that I was completely naked from the waist down.

"He's got a huge donger hasn't he?" said Georgia Snape-Cheddington, speaking quite outrageously in front of the others.

I began wanking and gestured them to join in by pointing to my manhood. Immediately I felt countless fingers and long sharp finger nails on me. The bed heaved as more and more girls piled on. I opened my legs and resumed the tongue probing of this lithe young creature who sat on me with her legs splayed over my face. I moved my hands away and reached out for legs and skirt hems.

I felt silk dresses and petticoat lace against the highly sensitised skin of my legs. With each touch my heavy stiff penis bobbed about wildly. Soon several fingers were wrapped around my shaft and I felt myself being milked. My hands were pushed under girl's dresses and I felt the cool smoothness of silk as I reached for the open crotch drawers of these excited young women. My long third fingers entered two moist cunts and wiggled and wriggled about so that I could get more fingers inside. My thumbs rubbed their clitties and soon the room was full of groans, moans and sensuous sounds.

My penis was now being milked furiously. Clearly someone in the room had done this before to someone, perhaps to an uncle or to a clergyman.

Phoebe's vagina dribbled steadily into my mouth and my tongue probed her clitty with even more fervency. Soon I had three young ladies close to reaching their climaxes and I was entering the point of no return too. My thumbs worked at a steady persistent pace and I was thankful that I kept my finger nails short and that both girls were oozing fanny juice.

Judging by the swishing, rustling sounds of silk petticoats and silk stockings frou-frouing together all four of us were going to experience our orgasms at about the same instance. The girl on my right hand side suddenly gripped my wrist and clamped her legs firmly together and let out a loud groan.

"Ooh, aagh, oh yes," she squealed as I felt her vagina muscles grip me then spasm. "Yes, yes, yes." she continued and I felt my hand being eased slowly out of her.

The young lady on my left hand side suddenly erupted into a tirade of incoherent moaning and again I felt her internal muscles rippling, pulsating and gripping my three fingers.

Phoebe kept riding my face just like an Ascot jockey and she jerked her vagina and clitty up and down my nose and tongue. Soon she was shaking uncontrollably and was crying as she reached her climactic peak.

"There, there, dearest Phoebe," said her comforting sister sitting next to her on the bed.

Almost immediately I 'came' and rammed my face smartly into Phoebe's now over-sensitive cunt. I jerked out four of five long strings of semen which could have ended up anywhere and lay back panting staring up at the insides of Miss Phoebe Bellingham's cream coloured Alencon lace petticoat. I felt her thighs shake as she continued sobbing and gently she was escorted off me by Lucy who asked her if she was feeling alright.

"That was the best experience in my entire life," she said between her tears, and all the girls cheered and patted her on the back and head until she began laughing and became more animated.

I had met several women who cried at the point of orgasm.

As the evening progressed I orally pleasured the girls one by one. The atmosphere in the room smelled entirely of sex and these young women were eager to have me perform.

I lay back on the bed and removed my clown jacket so that now I was completely starkers in the dim candle light.

Amelia Bernhard lifted up her pink and yellow check dress and clambered onto the bed. I watched as she straddled my shoulders facing my feet. Soon she was kneeling on all fours with her arse pointing towards my face. I slid my head under her and under her full skirt. Her skirt was full of white silk petticoats and I had to fight my way under the many layers until I occupied the same space as her crotchless drawers and silk stockings.

She must have been wearing six petticoats, each outer one being more feminine and more ornate than the one underneath. The swishing and rustling seemed to go on forever as she finally arranged them around me so that only my lower naked torso and legs were on general view.

Needless to say my penis began to grow again and lay ramrod stiff along the centre line of my stomach. Hands began lifting it and weighing it. Small fingernails scratched the inside of my thighs and lower stomach.

"Growl, growl, guess who I am?" said a disembodied voice somewhere beyond the seven layers of silk which enveloped my face.

"I think it's Miss Georgia Snape-Cheddington," I shouted, knowing my voice would sound muffled from under Amelia Bernhard's vast dress.

"Yes, growl, you are correct Mr. Tim, growl," said the voice as she clawed at my balls.

I pulled Amelia firmly down on top of me so that her arse cheeks opened and her puckered anal rose winked back at me. She smelled as 'fresh as a daisy' as I began slurping my way between her cunny lips. Soon I had my tongue completely up inside her and she moaned at every push and probe. Her arse looked so wide and fleshy and I felt as if I was the luckiest chap in London to be under it and have it spread over me. In the warm dark private space inside her dress and petticoats I just licked and flicked at her fanny and clitty until she began to jerk and gyrate her hips more and more wildly.

"Has he got it up you Amy?" asked one of the girls," I can't wait, I swear that I shall die waiting," said the young woman whom I guessed to be Matilda Scott-Rippon.

I savoured every second of being under Amelia's buttocks and listened to her silk petticoats slide over her silk stockings while Georgia Snape-Cheddington continued scratching me and growling like a demented lioness.

I almost groaned with pleasure as my senses were again being overpowered by being facesat and wanked. Soon however I sensed that Amelia was close to her orgasm. I slowly concentrated all my slobbering and diddling on her now prominent clitoris and from nowhere I felt her shudder, shake then spasm loudly. The air was full of obscenities and swearing.

"Amelia, really, what coarse and vulgar language," said someone.

"Oh shut up Selina, leave poor Amy alone," said another girl.

Inside my temporary petticoat world I watched her arse shake over me and all the little petticoat folds and gathers shimmied and frou-froued. I was gripped by overwhelming lust and diddled her further and further until another orgasm welled up inside her and appeared to last for at least a minute.

"Enough, enough, enough Clown," said Amelia kneeling up then sitting squarely on my face.

I fought for breath and pushed her off and she laughed and congratulated me on my underskirt technique. I smiled like a raving idiot and frizzed up my blonde curly hair once more.

Georgia Snape-Cheddington growled at me in her grey and red dress and threw herself on the bed beside me and kissed me in the French manner. She didn't appear to mind that our tongues mingled in each others mouths and that my face smelled strongly of Amelia Bernhard's cunt. She was like a tigress or lioness and she could not stop squeezing my tender testicles between her talon-like fingernails.

"You can pleasure me on my back," she demanded as if she had an 'underskirt boy' of her own to play with at home, perhaps she did?

"Certainly ma'am," I replied smiling at her. "In the horizontal position it shall be," I said and tickled her in the ribs.

"Behave Mr. Clown," she said as she leant back against the huge pillows and spread her legs.

I helped her off with her slippers and crawled to the bottom of the bed. I lifted her dress to reveal a white petticoat made from the finest silk I had ever seen. In the candlelight she stared down the bed at me and placed her hands behind her head.

"Nice petticoat," said Phoebe Bellingham who had now fully 'recovered' from her orgasm. It was indeed a 'nice petticoat' and was trimmed with a double layer of silk flounces and Point de Gaze and Youghal lace. I lifted this up and there beneath it was another petticoat of similar design and quality this time trimmed with a deep hem of Chantilly lace.