Creaky stairs groan under my tiptoes. Manor asleep. Everyone tucked in after supper. My pulse hammers. Jeanne’s handkerchief clutched tight, scented with her sweet orgeat skin. Door to her room, ajar. No answer to my soft knock. I slip inside. Empty. Her neat things laid out. That intoxicating smell everywhere. Voices murmur next door. Laughter stifled. Connecting door half-open, heavy curtains frame it. Light spills from her room, golden from the dying sun. Stars peek through wide-open window. Curiosity pulls me. I part the fabric just enough. Unseen. Breath held.
Jeanne and Lyndsay on the bed. Giggling about me. ‘Did he kiss you like that?’ Lyndsay leans in, lips brush Jeanne’s. Soft at first. Then deep, tongues dancing. My cock twitches. They don’t know. Lyndsay hikes Jeanne’s dress. Hand dives between thighs. Fingers rub her slit hard. Jeanne squirms, bites lip to hush moans. ‘Not like that,’ Jeanne whispers. Face flushes crimson. Lyndsay speeds up. Circles her clit. Jeanne’s hips buck. Gags her gasps with Lyndsay’s mouth. I grip the curtain. Wood creaks faintly under my weight. Freeze. They pause? No, lost in it.
The Contact
Lyndsay spreads wide on bed edge. Jeanne strips slow. Dress falls. Pale skin glows in twilight. Perky tits bounce free. Nipples hard. She sways hips, copper bush revealed. Knows I’m there? Back arches as she kneels. Ass up, perfect camber. Tongue laps Lyndsay’s pussy. Fingers plunge in. Two, three. Lyndsay begs, ‘More, more.’ Jeanne fists her. Whole hand sinks wrist-deep. Wet squelches echo soft. Slurps from Jeanne’s mouth on clit. Lyndsay thrashes. Gush sprays Jeanne’s face. Salty squirt. She licks it up, shocked grin. Air thick with pussy musk. Window breeze chills their sweat.
Jeanne shivers. ‘Cold now.’ Prowls to shut window, tits jiggling. Cat-like to bed. They tangle under sheets. Muffled giggles, sighs. Show’s over. Frustrated, hard as rock. Handkerchief stays my ticket back. Floorboards crack as I back away. Heart slams chest. Slip out door. Click shut. Hall dark, moonlight filters under others’ doors. Shadows of sleeping neighbors. Cousin Berthe snores faint nearby. Descend stairs slow. Each step a whisper. No one stirs. Secret burns hot. Jeanne’s not the prude. Fiery slut. Can’t wait to claim her. Manor holds our filth close.