Room with a Secret Ch. 14

Mr Crowfoot nodded, "three times."

"You don't hang about!"

Mr Crowfoot was not at all 'hanging,' his manly organ was as up in the air as Jim's; ready to go in for a fourth time and do that pleasurable thing.

"How tight is she."

"Feel."

And Jim felt. No worries of piercing her maidenhead. That, though she did not know it, was now long gone! Taken away without her knowledge by a man old enough to be her grandfather.

There was something quite awful about what he was doing. Indeed, disrobing and then lusting over Annette - without permission - was one thing; but to be feeling her sex, inserting first one finger, then two and stretching the fingers apart to see how accommodating her vagina was... It was a bit like fingering cloth you might buy to make a garment; or squeezing peaches or tapping melons to check for ripeness - or closely examining an animal before buying it for breeding.

Jim nodded, "Room enough."

Mr Crowfoot nodded, "Room enough!" He paused and seemed to be thinking, deliberating with himself, "but before that I think I need to... all that tea you know. Perhaps you might like to taste whilst I pay a visit."

Jim watched the old man turn and walk across the carpet towards the door. A somewhat surprising figure but an old man can walk around his house naked if he wishes, indeed can walk naked and sport an erection - if he can get it up, of course. Jim turned to the girl and her delightful sex. Not for him to enter with his penis, of course, unless he went and got a condom from Mr Crowfoot's desk drawer. Did Annette perhaps sometimes open that to tidy. The packet must look rather incongruous between a box of India tags and a packet of staples.

Jim bent his head and brought his nose and lips to Annette's sex. The scent of a young girl, fresh and pleasing; he extended his tongue - and the taste of a young woman. He extended his tongue pushing it where his fingers had gone. How good it would be, when he saw Annette dusting other days, to know he had had fingers and tongue in her. A shame he would not have had... Jim paused and stood up from the girl, glancing at the door. Mr Crowfoot would be furious if he knew but... what really would be the harm if Jim was to push his erect penis into Annette just for a little bit, just for a few delicious strokes? Indeed, make their pubic hair mingle.

Perhaps Mr Crowfoot was already emptying his bladder, ejecting the other liquid so he could more comfortably set about injecting Annette with his semen. Jim could not hang around. He pulled Annette's legs to the edge of the Chesterfield; swinging her around so her sex was right there in front of him, her legs spread and her lovely 'oval' there for him. A quick stroke of knob up and down wet, soft inner lips, a push against her clitoris and Jim Costin was pushing his smooth knob against Annette's entrance. Smooth, rounded and without a rubber teat. It was not the most sensible thing to be doing. Not really. He had had fingers inside but could he get his cock? Jim was sure he could do it. A glance behind him at the door and Jim pushed, and pushed a little harder. There is a certain feeling, a certain delight in feeling a woman's entrance yield and then you start forward and slide. Jim slid - and kept sliding until half in; a retraction and then another push. Silky smooth, hot and wet, a joy to the young man; to see the contrast between his flesh and Annette's, and to know what he was doing was very naughty indeed - but to savour the moment!

Jim pushed and mingled the pubic hair; even went so far as to stroke both Annette's and his together. He felt his balls against Annette. Another glance at the door and he knew he must withdraw. Not to spurt, not to practise the withdrawal method but simply to avoid Mr Crowfoot's ire. No point in upsetting his friend or making him cross. Jim pulled out, letting his penis bound upwards now released from the so pleasant, and rather tight, clasp of Annette's vagina. His cock stood pointing up at him, looking rather guilty and, indeed, rather wet. He felt like a sneaky little boy who had just done something he had been told very clearly not to do and yet had done anyway. His guilty glances at the door were just like that: sneaking an extra biscuit from the jar or a sweet from his mother's kitchen drawer that was meant to be out of reach - but was not.

A dabbing with Annette's pristine knickers and his organ looked - well, not more respectable but not so wet! He re-arranged the girl. Jim was just in time, as the door opened and in came his friend. Between entering and walking up to the Chesterfield the old man went from flaccid to hard. A textbook demonstration of the male erection with all the swelling and jerking that entailed. Mr Crowfoot was anything but past it - but he did have the view of Annette's open thighs the whole way. That no doubt helped!

"Jim, a good delving? Have you licked enough? Our sleeping girl does look very deshabille." The old man smiled, "I like to imagine Annette with her nightdress rucked up and brought down to her waist. Some clothing, at least, often adds to the eroticism."

Quite wonderful to be standing there with Mr Crowfoot as if in Annette's bedroom and with the girl so exposed and asleep, talking with their cocks up and ready, pretending to have crept along the landing to her room. Good too that Mr Crowfoot seemed unaware of Jim's particular misdeed. He watched as Mr Crowfoot moved to Annette's head and touched his knob to Annette's lips but there was no parting of lips, no movement to absorb the knob. No dream sucking. The man trailed his knob down her chin and made to rub it against her so attractive nipples. Mr Crowfoot's hand went to Annette's sex and stroked her hair.

"This is good, Jim. I am ready to feel her tightness. Could you arrange her for me?"

They were indeed friends, but sometimes Jim felt a little like being Mr Crowfoot's assistant; he was certainly his protégé, a young man learning about sex from his elder. Jim moved the sleeping girl, so she was lying along the Chesterfield, her thighs spread and ready for an old man to mount; to lie upon her in a comfortable fashion and easily slide his penis into her wet sheath. Jim offered Mr Crowfoot his hand and the old man got up onto the Chesterfield, one hand on the back of the Chesterfield and the other in Jim's. There was no need for Jim to assist Mr Crowfield with his penis. He was quite capable of pointing that at Annette; perfectly capable of positioning himself and applying pressure!

Jim had watched his own penetration, but Mr Crowfoot's was hidden beneath his taut and scraggy buttocks. Instead, Jim watched the old man's face; watched the look of concentration and then the look of great pleasure coupled with a slide shaking of the head. Mr Crowfoot breathed out. "Delightful, Jim. Such a delight!" He looked down at the sleeping girl's face. "We are very fortunate in Annette, Jim, very fortunate. Tight and virginal. I just so relish the entry." Another movement and it was clear Mr Crowfoot was now fully embedded. Clasped as Jim had been clasped moments before. "You will enjoy this Jim. The condoms are in the desk."

Jim left Mr Crowfoot to the young girl. Left him to fuck Annette at leisure, as he walked stiffly to the desk and took out the packet and emptied a foil wrapped contraceptive into his hand. He stood at the window looking out as behind him he heard Mr Crowfoot making pleasant sucking fucking noises. Should he, rather than with the condom simply come over Annette? A nice idea. So annoying not to be able to finish inside her naked - but at least he had been inside her for real, albeit for just a short time. He could try and imagine and ignore the latex. Jim ripped open the packet and took out the squidgy rubber ring. Perhaps another day they might get Annette to practise ready for Matthew. Jim grinned as he placed the ring atop his knob; perhaps he might insist Annette practised upon Mr Crowfoot as well before they both fucked her with condoms. How would his friend like that!

But, there again, there was the idea of double penetrating Annette - condom free - Jim in her bottom and Mr Crowfoot in her vagina. Slowly Jim rolled the condom down his erection as he stared out of the window. It was most definitely a rather interesting idea. Behind him there was suddenly quiet. Jim turned, "Have you come?"

"No Jim, just resting. I wasn't going to hurry. I am most comfortably positioned - delightfully sheathed."

Jim smiled and nodded. His penis was sheathed too - but not so delightfully! It was annoying. He turned back to the window and to his contemplation of the garden. It would be good to chase Annette laughing and giggling around that. Or Sophie and Jenny or... Nice to imagine a picnic in the country with Sophie and Jenny, perhaps Annette as well. A lovely summer's day and a big blanket spread on the ground with all sorts of good things to eat set out. The girls all in cotton summer frocks and with no knickers, and none of them being at all careful to be modest. Mr Crowfoot had mentioned how erotic partial nudity could be. Glimpses of furry pussies in the warm sunshine at the top of such smooth and pretty thighs, peeking out from under dresses, would be more than a little pleasing. And how would he and Mr Crowfoot be dressed - or undressed? Edwardian colourful blazers and cricketing flannels maybe. Straw boaters and crisp white shirts. Might their flies be undone at some point by the girls so their fine cocks would be released out into the sunshine. Women liked well-dressed men. Probably they also liked to see men's penises poking up, hard and ready from well pressed or linen trousers . Perhaps the girls might like to take a suck in between sandwiches!

A picnic with the men exposed and the women revealing themselves in the sunshine. All leading to copulation and fleshly pleasure.

Particular noises behind him, but Jim did not turn. He was rather engrossed in his thoughts; he stood there gently stroking the latex, thinking of summer, girls and a picnic. Alas, the wonder of the study's influence upon women was not portable. Had it been, perhaps, because of some magic talisman emitting a wonderful sphere of influence around it; or a magic ring worn upon a finger, or a lantern emitting a strange light that could be set in the middle of the picnic blanket; but it seemed it was not at all something to be taken on safari, into a garden or on a picnic - it was just within the study of the old house. It was a puzzle and not one yet revealed by Mr Crowfoot Senior's so naughty diary. Jim turned and walked erect back to his friend. Mr Crowfoot might need assistance in de-mounting Annette.

Mr Crowfoot, however, had already arisen and with his large bandanna handkerchief was dabbing at Annette's sex, soaking up some of his semen leaking out of what Annette supposed to be her virgin vagina. It did not look very virginal now!

"In some ways it's a shame Annette remembers nothing. It'd be good for her to learn and know what to do with Matthew."

Jim nodded as he stood looking at the girl. "Not going to learn much when asleep." He reached for her breasts as Mr Crowfoot continued.

"Be rather good to have Matthew here for training sessions with Annette. We supervising them - supervising their sexual relations, watching and helping them practise sex. But the room does not exert an influence on men. A shame. It would be good to watch a lusty man at work. Not that I don't enjoy watching you, Jim, of course! I shall sit in my chair and watch. Good sometimes at my age just to watch. Perhaps with a girl in my lap - sucking a bit! Lusty men and pretty girls. A theatre show for us, Jim, as we sit and wank. Think of the building excitement as our Annette and her Matthew have their first time. Maybe their imagined wedding night; maybe their first exploration of each other's bodies all in front of us. Not so much acted out, as real for them. You know the study's influence. They would think in their heads it was their first time and wouldn't see us sitting there. And then afterwards as they slept..."

Jim's hands moved across Annette's breasts as he got up upon the Chesterfield. The girl had not so much as stirred despite having just been inseminated by Mr Crowfoot. It was about to happen again - though without the actual insemination. So good to get up onto the girl and lower himself. Skin to skin. Such a wonderful feeling. Annette's soft body beneath him. He applied his mouth to first one and then the other breast, sucking areola and all into his mouth and giving each a really good suck. No milk of course, but that had happened with Ruth and Kay. He had drunk from both girls. How good to do that from Annette!

Jim pressed his lips to Annette's generous mouth but no response. It would indeed be good to pretend to be Matthew. For the room to put the idea into her head and for her to release what must be her pent-up passion and lust for her fiancée. How good to have her mouth against his as he pushed in, feeling her reaction to her first penetration - in her mind anyway. Matthew's big cock going into her tight wet channel. And it was at that moment Jim pushed into Annette again.

Not as good with the condom. Not the same intimate feeling, but pretty good - and Jim had a lot longer to fuck. There was no hurry, and Jim did not hurry his climax, pausing and speeding up as took his fancy. Mr Crowfoot was not awaiting his turn. Indeed, post coital he might well have gone to sleep in his armchair! Finally, Jim filled, not Annette's vagina, but the bulb at the end of his condom. Inside Annette, in the hot wet darkness the latex bulb expanded as it filled, swelling and growing. Jim had squeezed it before putting the condom on. One moment it was still flat, the next it gained the shape of the bulb, another spurt of semen and it grew a little and then again and again until it was quite stretched. Without it Annette would have been quite awash, her cervix pearly white with cum.

"Seventy-six," said Mr Crowfoot.

Jim turned his head, "What?"

"You took seventy-six strokes inside Annette." Mr Crowfoot had not been asleep. He had indeed been watching and counting. Perhaps it had been instead of sheep! If so, it had not worked, he was clearly wide awake!

It had been too good with Annette for Jim not to want to enjoy her again. They had tidied her up and gently ushered her out of the study door to resume her kitchen cleaning with no memory at all of tea or anything in the study. Remarkable how it happened; how a woman's memory was wiped. A phenomenon Jim just did not understand. Maybe she would remember bringing the tea things to the study or maybe she just would not think of that.

Jim left work early a few days later. It was one of the days Annette came to Mr Crowfoot's to clean. His intention to catch her before she went home. It had been at Mr Crowfoot's suggestion - to, indeed, catch her. Jim had been more than pleased to accept the invitation and plan. He imagined the invitation:

Archibald Taciturn Crowfoot Esq.

requests the pleasure of the company of

Mr Jim Costin

at the imagined deflowering of

Miss Annette Kareem

RSVP

Dress code: birthday suit

Jim let himself in and went straight to Mr Crowfoot's study. He was spot on time and his friend was awaiting him. Seated with him was Annette. She leapt up, "Matthew! And flew across the room to land a big kiss upon Jim's lips. The afternoon's game had already started.

Jim responded with passion and soon the 'couple' were seated next to each other upon the Chesterfield wrapped in each other's arms. Annette trying a little to talk. Jim revelling in the kissing, the passionate French kissing. Annette was not reticent. Clearly very happy to engage with lips and tongues. Jim's hand slipped over her breast.

"Mathew. What are you doing?"

Jim's hand slipped into her blouse.

"Matthew! You mustn't."

But on the contrary, Jim must! He withdrew, for a time. More kissing and then Jim resumed his advances.

"No, Jim."

"Yes, dear, I want to. I really do. Please, Annette."

"No!"

As Matthew, Jim pretended to lose patience with Annette; as if something finally snapped. It had all been planned. Mr Crowfoot knew the game and would already have put certain suggestions into Annette's mind as to how she would react. It was a play, and the performers all knew their roles, even if Annette once she left the room would - so strangely - have forgotten lines and everything. Well... perhaps everything, maybe not. Jim was still not sure whether there was some persistence - some retained inclination.

Away and over from the Chesterfield, Mr Crowfoot was sitting in an armchair. Annette now paid him no attention as if he was not there at all; as if the old man was invisible. This was just as well as he had brought his penis out of his fly and was stroking it. He was playing the voyeur and clearly enjoying the watching.

All at once Jim flipped Annette over and onto his knee. A hand to the hem of her skirt and it was up and over her knicker clad bottom. Perhaps a shame the skirt was not long and flowing - perhaps a dress - so it could have been pulled up and over Annette's head trapping her and her arms. A great deal extra excitement in trapping a young woman like that whilst she is spanked - and perhaps more. And spanked Annette was. Down came 'Matthew's hand' upon the white cotton; not once but thrice and very firmly. Jim and Mr Crowfoot supposed Matthew to be a strong young man.

Jim glanced across at Mr Crowfoot. He was grinning and intently watching, his hand moving at speed up and down his firm erection, clearly enjoying the piece of erotic theatre.

Annette was cross. She struggled to her feet, pulling down her skirt and very much said so. Jim as Matthew just sat and grinned as Annette let loose a torrent of invective - not swearing, that would not be her - but certainly it was a trifle critical and complaining.

Jim shrugged his shoulders. "You needed that. So, how are you going to punish me for being naughty. Am I to be spanked too?"

It was in a way surprising, but that had been exactly Mr Crowfoot and Jim's plan. Annette readily accepted, indeed seemed very happy to accept spanking Matthew as punishment so as to be 'quits.' It was as if it was her own idea. What she had not expected was for her Matthew to reach for his belt and undo both it and flies and lower his trousers. She very clearly had not expected him to pull his pants down as well as he settled himself across her knee. All at once Annette was presented with a naked male bottom, two cheeks and a somewhat hairy crack. Not maybe as muscled and certainly not dark skinned like the real Matthew, but Annette, of course, was not at all aware it was a substitute bottom.

"Oh, Matthew, I didn't mean..." But she spanked all the same. Firm slaps on the exposed flesh and not playful either. Jim was getting a little used to being spanked in the study. Miss Redmond and now Annette. Who else might spank him in the future? Who might he spank?

He turned to Mr Crowfoot. His friend's hand was still clasped around his penis, was still stroking it and clearly enjoying the scene. Did he wish to be spanked too - or did he just like seeing others spanked? The slightly strange eroticism of corporal punishment. It certainly got Jim that way. Hanging between Annette's knees his own penis erected, the blood pumping and what had been half hanging rose to touch flesh and finding its way obstructed slid to the side and rubbed upwards again against Annette's thigh only to find itself caught at the edge of her skirt.

Five firm spanks and then Annette froze, hand in the air. Had she felt the smoothness of Jim's glans sliding against her thigh; had it suddenly come to her just what she was feeling - just what was happening up inside her skirt?