The Maid's Tale Ch. 08bychristinamonroe©
Mary missed Jack; she enjoyed his shy smile, and the diffidence with which he treated her. She knew she would see him again on her next free Sunday but that wasn't for almost a month. Until then, she kept the memory of his touch alive, lulling herself to sleep at night with thoughts of his lips on hers, and his hands exploring her tender body.
Her Master hadn't been around for the last few days; he was much taken with the company of his old friend and they spent many hours closeted together, playing billiards and drinking in the games room, or riding for miles until the horses returned lathered with sweat.
As a result of this, the house had been fairly quiet. Of course there was the day-to-day drudgery, the china to clean, the silver to keep polished with ashes and paper, but generally the House had the air of a holiday and relaxation. Mary had retired to her room at her usual time, but she wasn't weary; the lighter duties hadn't exhausted her youthful reserves and she was happy when Betsy knocked quietly at her door and slipped in for a natter. She and Betsy had grown up together in the House and she was very fond of her company. Mary's 19th birthday had come and gone almost un-noticed, apart from by Betsy. She had managed to save a small amount from her tiny wage and buy Mary ribbons for her Sunday dress. This act of kindness had sealed the girls friendship and now they were inseparable, giggling in corners together to the irritation of the other household staff.
Although it was late spring, the night air was crisp and, perched on the end of Mary's bed, Betsy started shivering a little in her fine cotton nightgown. She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees.
'Well?' she asked' 'how are you and Jack getting on?'
Mary smiled. She knew Betsy well enough to tell her some of the details about Jack, but decided not to say anything about their Master-Betsy would be shocked at that.
'He's very sweet', she replied, 'he thinks I'm beautiful, and when he kisses me...' She smiled again, remembering the feel of his tongue against hers.
Betsy shivered again, partly because of the cold, but partly because of the look on Mary's face, a faraway gaze full of longing.
Mary noticed the shiver, and shuffled over to the edge of the bed. 'Get in, 'she said, 'you must be cold'. She held back the corner of the coverlet so that Betsy could slide in beside her.
A little shy at first, Betsy did as she asked, and soon the two girls were cosy under the warm blankets. The bed was narrow, and Betsy was forced up against Mary, one arm across her stomach, and her head resting on Mary's shoulders. Automatically, Mary's arm had lifted and stretched across Betsy's sturdy shoulders, Mary's fingertips resting in Betsy's hair.
'So...' asked Betsy, 'what else have you done besides get a kiss?'
Betsy could feel the curve of Mary's stomach beneath her arm, heat radiating through the thin nightdress. She had never been as close to someone before, never been so tempted to touch and she was confused by her feelings. The warmth of Mary's body seemed to permeate directly to the pit of Betsy's stomach, and subconsciously she moved a little closer.
Mary felt Betsy's warm breath on her neck, and she could sense Betsy's face nuzzling into her. Suddenly shy, she found it hard to put into words what she wanted to say.
'He touched me...' she said slowly, 'He touched me...you know.'
Betsy didn't; she was plain, and lived her life almost exclusively in the House, but she could feel the tension in Mary's body and somehow this transmitted itself to her.
'Where did he touch you?' she asked, moving closer to Mary, her lips almost brushing Mary's soft cheek. 'Tell me, I want to know.'
Mary felt her mouth go dry. She could feel Betsy's warm arm resting across her stomach, and for a brief instant had a vision of Betsy's fingertips edging down, slowly to explore in the way that Jack had done.
'He touched me...under my petticoats' she gasped, not knowing the words, not knowing how to describe the feeling of Jack's fingers on her, caressing her most intimate parts.
Betsy was shocked; she knew that this was where babies came from and that men enjoyed that sort of thing, but she had never thought that this was something a woman might like to do. Mary, though, had obviously enjoyed it; longing was oozing from her.
At Mary's words, Betsy felt that strange heat begin to rise in her, a heat that appeared to originate from that unknown territory between her thighs; a region she had assiduously avoided since the minister had told them of the evil that arose from woman.
'What did it feel like?' she asked, unconsciously pressing her thigh against Mary's, her hand curling round to stroke Mary's slim waist.
Still Mary couldn't find the words to describe the feelings of pleasure and of deep satisfaction.
Betsy's hand was now stroking the side of Mary's waist, slowly upwards to her breast, just edging along the outer border. She felt Betsy's lips move on her cheek and, almost in a dream, heard Betsy say quietly 'Show me what he did, Mary'.
Mary turned in the bed and brought her face to Betsy's. In the dim candlelight she could see an almost feverish glitter in her friend's eyes, and a red glow in her cheeks. Betsy's breath was coming in short gasps, and she didn't relinquish her hold on Mary. Her hand slid around from Mary's waist and moved upwards to envelope one of her full soft breasts. 'Oh yes...' breathed Mary, conscious of her nipple hardening under Betsy's unskilled fingers.
'Wait..' asked Mary, and sitting upright, she quickly drew her nightgown over her head. Betsy watched, fascinated, as she saw Mary naked for the first time, her long sinuous waist, her full breasts tipped in rosy pink nipples, now puckered and hardened.
'You too,' said Mary, her hair dishevelled,' take off your nightgown'.
Betsy was shy still, but she heard the urgency in Mary's voice and climbed out of bed to rid herself of the full-length gown. Mary watched as Betsy revealed her body; her breasts were heavy, her nipples darker than Mary's and at the base of her belly there was an explosion of dark brown curls hiding the cleft of her sex.
Betsy slide back into bed to cover her nakedness, but Mary threw back the covers to expose them both to the crisp night air.
'Do you want to know what Jack does to me?' she murmured, burying her face in the side of Betsy's neck, and felt, rather than heard Betsy's frantic agreement.
Mary kissed Betsy gently; her lips leaving a feather light trail of caresses down the side of her neck.
She could feel her breasts pressed against Betsy's, feel their soft flesh moulding together; the sensation was so different from the hard, muscular chest of her Master, or of Jack's, and she wanted to explore further. She wanted to know if she could give Betsy the same pleasure that she had been given, and slowly, she trailed her lips down to Betsy's breasts, lifting each one gently, feeling its heaviness. She brought her mouth down on Betsy's nipple, sucking gently, feeling the firm bud rise and flicked it lightly with the tip of her tongue to stimulate it further. She heard Betsy moan, an incoherent gasp, and this made Mary nip a little harder. She felt Betsy's body tense and her back arched as if to thrust her breast more deeply into Mary's mouth.
Mary's hand slowly descended, stroking at the rounded curve of Betsy's plump stomach, tickling lightly at her navel. Betsy said nothing, overwhelmed by the sensations and, encouraged, Mary edged her way down, entwining her fingers in the hair covering Betsy's plump mound. She pulled lightly, stroking and smoothing the curls, all the time reaching further, reaching for that moist slit that she knew was there. Her fingertips found it and she stroked lightly, just with the tip of a finger.
Betsy's eyes, closed in ecstasy, flew open in a panic. 'Oh no...Mary, you mustn't! 'Tis a sin....'
Mary hushed her, stroking like she would a frightened kitten, cupping and caressing Betsy's breasts until the girl was almost purring under her soft hands. She whispered quiet words of encouragement in Betsy's ear, licking gently at her ear lobe, kissing her neck under she felt the tension leave Betsy's body and she could begin her exploration again.
This time, Betsy's body seemed to welcome her touch. Betsy's thighs parted, and Mary had room to delve her fingers between them, feeling the plump lips of her sex.
'I want to see' she whispered to Betsy, 'I want to see you down there' and she edged down the bed, settling herself between Betsy's thighs. Betsy, embarrassed, tried to cover herself, but Mary pulled her hands away. Mary gently pushed Betsy's legs wider apart, and watched as the outer lips of her sex spread and the pink inner surfaces were revealed. Already they were glistening with juices and Mary knew how Jack must have felt, for she wanted to taste those juices for herself. The opening of Betsy's vagina was a dark and mysterious shadow and looked like velvet. Slowly she reached forward and spread Betsy's lips wider, her fingers playing up and down the moist slit. She could see Betsy quiver, little shivers of sensation running down her thighs. Stretching more widely, she could see a firm nub of erect pink flesh standing proudly at the top of Betsy's sex, and Mary knew that this must be the seat of pleasure, the cause of all the urges that she had felt over the last few weeks. She let her fingers tickle this lightly, teasingly and heard Betsy gasp, her thighs jerk in sudden tremor. She lowered her head and took the nub of tissue in her mouth, rolling it lightly between her lips. She could smell Betsy's arousal, a deep musk that made Mary light-headed. She tried to replicate Jack's motions, to copy his tonguing and licked gently up and down the length of Betsy's slit, holding her thighs apart. She could feel Betsy begin to buck beneath her and knew that she was reaching her crisis. She heard Betsy moan, almost growling, meaningless sounds of urgency arising from her. Mary slowed a little, wanting to extend the pleasure further for her friend. She began to finger Betsy's sex again, running her fingertips up and down, scratching lightly at her labia.
With a fingertip she probed the entrance to Betsy's vagina. She knew that she was the first to tread this path and that she must go gently, but Betsy's mewl of pleasure at being violated soon overrode Mary's intentions and she began thrusting her finger in deeply. She could feel the muscular walls gripping at her and caressed the folds and crevices inside. One finger didn't seem to be enough, and she slid her middle finger in alongside the first, her thumb resting lightly on Betsy's pleasure-nub. Betsy's flesh seemed to suck at her, to draw her in deeper and faster until her fingertips seemed almost to brush against Betsy's womb and both of them were panting with exertion. She began to rub frantically with her thumb, and knew that Betsy was about to spend. She saw Betsy's back arch again, and felt her muscles contract down around her fingers. Betsy had thrust her hand against her mouth to smother her cries of ecstasy, but she couldn't help writhing in the bed, her head moving from side to side as waves of sensation rolled over her. Mary could see her sweat-slick skin, and lowered her mouth to lick at Betsy's belly but this was too much for Betsy. Overwhelmed by the sensations that she had never before experienced she cried out, begging Mary to stop. Stretching out alongside her once more, Mary leant over her friend, and brought her lips down to hers, kissing her deeply. Betsy could taste her juices on Mary's tongue, and marvelled at the sea-salt tang.
Betsy's breathing slowed and eventually she could think coherently. She lay with her hand draped around Mary's slim shoulders, and knew that she wanted this to happen again. She wanted to explore Mary in the same way, to taste her flesh and feel her friend writhe beneath her tongue. She also knew that she wanted more; her young body had recovered quickly and she could feel desire rising in her again.
Turning her head, she kissed Mary with a sudden passion, exploring her mouth, tongues entwining. Her hands caressed Mary's body, feeling her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers. She felt she could lose herself in Mary's soft scented flesh, and wanted to drown in the taste of her. She slid her hands down Mary's back and stroked her buttocks, cupping them, digging her fingers into the abundant flesh as she continued to kiss Mary passionately. Her fingers found the cleft between the mounds of flesh and she stroked gently, her fingertips brushing lightly. She felt Mary quiver in her arms and knew instinctively that she had touched something sensitive, something that Mary wanted to experience again.
Mary was struggling to contain her desire, and when she felt Betsy tease her secret entrance she couldn't stand it any longer. She pushed Betsy flat on the bed and climbed on top of her, swinging her legs around so that her thighs straddled Betsy's face and Betsy's mound was directly beneath Mary's tongue.
Mary lowered herself onto Betsy's face, and knew that this was what she wanted; she needed Betsy to lick at her sex, to explore with her tongue all her hidden crevices and taste her juices. Mary lowered her face and began to lap at Betsy, clinging to her thighs, her head bobbing between the plump lips, tonguing and nibbling at Betsy's flesh. Betsy mimicked Mary's movements. Unsure at first, knowing only that she wanted to taste Mary's womanhood, she was encouraged by the murmurs of pleasure that her endeavours caused. Betsy had an overwhelming desire to touch and feel and brought her hands up to caress Mary's buttocks, kneading gently at the smooth flesh, spreading her cheeks until she could see the deep shadowed cleft between them, and the puckered amber ring that nestled there. Without thinking, she reached for it with her tongue, licking, and running the tip of her tongue around it, feeling the tight muscles react under her probing. She felt Mary start suddenly, and then heard her voice whispering encouragement. 'Oh yes.. Oh yes please...don't stop...please' Mary was beside herself: this felt so good, better then Jack, better than her Master.
Slowly, Betsy felt the tight ring dilate slightly under the pressure from her tongue. She pushed a finger into Mary's sex, feeling it delve deeply into the warmth, feeling the strength of Mary's vaginal muscles contracting.
'Put a finger in me...' begged Mary, and Betsy knew what to do. Moistened with the juices from Mary's sex, she pushed her finger into the tight rosebud, slowly easing her way in. Her tongue continued to lick and tease, now slipping over Mary's moistened lips, now teasing at the tight pleasure nub. She could feel Mary pushing herself back against her, grinding her hips to force Betsy's finger further and deeper. Mary could no longer concentrate on anything apart from the feel of Betsy's hands caressing her private entrance, and her tongue licking frantically over her sex. She knew she was about to come, and knew that this was better than ever. The feeling rose over her, and she buried her face in Betsy's sex to hide her cries of pleasure. She felt her juices flow, and Betsy licked and swallowed, drinking them with sounds of pleasure.
For a moment, the girls stayed mounted on top of one another, too weak to move. Then slowly, Betsy eased her finger from Mary, and they lay side-by-side, arms entwined, hoping that this was only the start of their explorations.