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Authors: A. Vivian Vane

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Jennifer grinned. The lithe redhead swayed toward Mary, dangling the bottle from two fingers.
Mary found herself dry-mouthed at the sight of her friend in all her nakedness. Both of them were avid riders, and that and walking keep their bodies fit, but where Mary was slender and girlish (apart from her oversized breasts), Jennifer was buxom, broad-hipped, and entirely delicious-looking, right down to the flame-like tuft of hair on her pale mons.

"Lie back," Jennifer instructed, giving the rim of the bottle a playful lick.

Mary frowned at her. "That's not really an answer," she protested, but she tilted back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to watch as Jennifer sank to the floor between her knees. Mary blushed, feeling the warmth of her maid's breath against the wetness of her pussy. She was abruptly self-conscious of her appearance, and wondered how Jennifer had managed her dainty, wisp-like curls of red hair. Mary's own slit was ringed with a heavy thatch of brown curls, and she felt heavy and sodden with wetness, making her blush and try to close her knees to hide the whole affair from Jennifer.

It was too late, of course -- the redhead was kneeling directly between Mary's thighs, and if
she minded any of what she saw she gave no sign of it. Her lips actually pressed against Mary's wet cunt for a minute, and the noblewoman gasped, shocked by the thought that her friend would be willing to touch the wet flesh as much as by the wickedness of the act. Her body tensed with excitement, and she found herself lifting her hips to thrust eagerly against the warm stroke of Jennifer's tongue.

Then the tongue was sliding lower, working its way down Mary's soft slit and past its lower edge, trailing across the smooth skin beneath Mary's pussy. Firm hands gripped her legs; lifted them up and tilted her back. Her feet came up to dangle over Jennifer's shoulders as the redhead's tongue worked lower. Mary blushed bright red, feeling her butt cheeks spreading as Jennifer tugged the strong thighs apart
. She knew that in a moment her friend's tongue would be back on her asshole once again, and the thought made her pussy throb with desire.

"Oh God, Jenny," Mary said. "That's so w
rong. Ahh, why...why are you...ah!" She arched her back, gasping as the slippery warmth found her wrinkled hole and pressed against it, taking her breath away.

Jennifer moaned into Mary's ass. The sound trembled against her hot skin. "Because I like it," the redhead said, her voice muffled and breathless. Her tongue lapped up and down, leaving a slick sheen of spit on Mary's flesh. Silken hair rubbed the insides of the noblewoman's thighs as Jennifer's head bobbed up and down.

"And you like it too," Jennifer added. She pulled her lips away, and Mary moaned in protest. A grin split the redhead's face. "Just a minute, greedy girl," she said, laughing. She raised the wine bottle to her lips and bent her head over it. Her lips slurped wetly, and she bobbed up and down for a moment, sliding the neck of the bottle startlingly deep into her mouth. Mary blinked, impressed despite herself, and Jennifer winked playfully. She thrust in and out a moment longer, swallowing the bottle all the way to the point where the neck widened into the body of the vessel, and then pulled it triumphantly from her lips with a wet popping sound. A trail of spit hung for a moment between her mouth and the glass rim, glistening. The bottle looked suddenly, terrifyingly large in her hands.

"Please," Mary said, "I'm not sure..."

"Shhh." Jennifer touched the cold rim of the bottle to Mary's ass, and the noblewoman gasped in surprise. The hard ring circled, pressing against her. "You'll love it," Jennifer assured her.

All Mary could do in reply was moan. Her pussy was on fire, dripping thick streams of wetness down onto the bottle as it rubbed her ass. She couldn't even imagine what it would feel like if Jennifer plunged that cold hardness into her -- but she badly wanted to know.

"Butt-slut, butt-slut," Jennifer teased in a singsong voice as she circled Mary's rim with the wine bottle. "Play with yourself for me, butt-slut. Touch your pussy. Haven't you ever fingered yourself? Just a little frig now and again?"

Gasping, Mary shook her head. She felt tense and trembling all over, as if she were trying to lift a great weight. Something explosive was welling up in her gut as Jennifer pushed the spit-slicked wine bottle slowly into the resisting ring of her anus.

The redhead laughed. "Touch your clitty," she said, "right here." Her finger flicked, just for an instant, up the length of Mary's slit, and pleasure lanced through the noblewoman as it circled a tender little fold of flesh at the top of her opening. Mindlessly obedient in her lust, she reached down and put her own hand where Jennifer had touched her.

"Good," Jennifer said, and smiled. "Now rub up and down...and say 'I'm a horny little butt-slut' for me while you do it!"

Mary's mouth hung open. Her body began to jerk in pleasure. She felt a sudden, soft stretching between her butt cheeks, and the pressure inside her rose to an unbearable level. With a smooth rushing sensation, the bottle slid into her bottom, plunging deep until the neck widened into the body of the bottle and it came to rest snugged up tight against Mary's ass.

"Ahh! Jennifer! I'm -- I'm a horny little butt-slut!" the young noblewoman shrieked. Her pussy exploded, spasming inside her as she rubbed her clit. Waves of pleasure washed over her, and her mind went blank, leaving her body to hump against the thick glass tube in her ass by instinct. Jennifer obliged her, sliding it firmly in and out, and the smooth, plunging sensation helped to draw Mary's orgasm out as they rocked together on the edge of her bed.

Finally, the spasms began to subside, and the bottle slid from Mary's aching bottom just as trembling excitement gave way to a pleasant, exhausted languor stealing over her. She slumped back, her head thumping softly against the mattress, and reached out to pat weakly at the top of Jennifer's red curls with her free hand.

"Oh, God," Mary moaned. "Oh, Jenny.
What was that? Why would you do that to me?" Her voice was breathless with wonder, and she whimpered helplessly when, in reply, the redhead simply began licking at the stretched-out rim of Mary's anus. It gaped darkly where the bottle had left it, opened up into a tiny little ring, and Jennifer's tongue slid smoothly around the circumference, trailing spit.

"Mmm." The redhead's moan was a deep, throaty purr. Mary could feel it vibrating against her ass. "Because you're a sexy little butt-slut, Madam
Smythe. My naughty girl."

Grinning, Jennifer rose, spit dripping from her chin. She seemed to tower above Mary, staring down at her stunned friend with a wicked grin. Mary shrank a little deeper into the bed and shivered. She was not
afraid
, exactly, but suddenly things had changed. She would not, a part of her knew, be the one calling the shots in their relationship anymore, at least not in private. There was no going back after Jennifer had seen
this
side of her.

From the gleam in her eyes, Jennifer knew it too. "Crawl under the covers with me and get some sleep, butt-slut," the maid invited, her voice gleefully teasing as she climbed up into the bed.
One eyelid flickered in a friendly wink, as if to reassure Mary that, underneath it all, Jennifer was still her good friend and traveling companion. She would just, it seemed, occasionally be something more, as well...and despite the ache growing in her bottom, Mary couldn't quite bring herself to regret the change.

"You'll need the rest," Jennifer promised. Her eyes were wicked -- and, to her embarrassment, Mary realized that she was absolutely delighted to see it.

Apparently she really
was
Jennifer's horny little butt-slut...

Chapter 2

An insistent pounding at the door came at a very inconvenient moment for Mary.

She groaned in dismay, in no small part because the sound made Jennifer pause and tilt her head to listen. Crouched on all fours on their bed, Mary winced as her tits swayed beneath her, the oversized mounds still jiggling from the force with which, moments earlier, Jennifer had been pounding her aching asshole.

Mary had been impressed and appalled in equal parts by her maid's ingenuity when Jennifer had repurposed a spare baluster from the household's staircase repairs and, with a little careful sanding, turned the varnished spindle into a smooth, bulb-tipped phallus for their pleasure. The application of a harness that strapped it to Jennifer's waist, made from the supporting frame of one of Mary's bustles and some ribbon, had quickly convinced Mary not to look a gift horse in the mouth as far as Jennifer's sexual creativity was concerned. Over the course of a few days, the baluster had quickly become her second-best friend in the world, at least when it was in Jenny's skilled hands! They had not gone out much, and Mary had made no effort to initiate either the social or the legal processes of settling into their new estate, which made the pounding at the door unusual as well as irritating.

"Oh God, Jennifer," Mary groaned. There was more than a hint of petulance in her voice, and she cleared her throat to try and chase the whiny edge from it. "I...I hate it when you have to stop," she admitted, struggling with the frustrated desire radiating outward from her well-stretched asshole. She blushed, still embarrassed by open statements of desire despite Jennifer's enthusiastically encouraging praise for every naughty word or thought that passed her noble lips.

Mary's bottom clenched around their makeshift cock. It stretched her wide, bending the firm muscles of her buttocks apart and straining the rim of her asshole, and Mary loved it. Her pussy drooled with desire, dribbling little gleaming strands of wetness that dangled until they broke and spattered on the sheets beneath her, but she wouldn't have asked Jennifer to switch holes for all the world. Vague notions of preserving her maidenhead aside, she was still too enraptured by the sensation of having her bum fucked to want to change anything. (Jennifer had, of course, also pointed out a few nights back that it was a bit unsanitary to pull the same thing out of one hole and stick it into another, and they hadn't yet fashioned a second toy for pussy-pounding.)

Taut flesh sucked wetly as Jennifer leaned back and eased the baluster from Mary's well-fucked ass. The noblewoman groaned in protest. For a moment she stretched even wider, gasping in pleasure, and then the smooth wooden bulb at the head of the polished shaft popped free. A cool rush of air blew in over her strained flesh. Panting, Mary shuddered, a tiny part of her still deeply disturbed by how incredibly exotic she found being stretched so loose and wide.

The door thumped again, making both of them jump. Jennifer laughed and gave Mary a swat on the bottom. "Go get it!" she urged, making frantic little waving motions toward the door. The bed bounced and swayed beneath them, making the redhead's tits jiggle and Mary's larger mounds slap against the sheets. "Grab a robe or something -- I have to clean this off!" She waved vaguely at the wooden cock, which Mary looked away from with a hasty jerk of her head. She was coming to accept that their new form of play occasionally meant a little cleanup afterward, but she still didn't want to think about it more than she had to.

Unfortunately, the feeling of wet slackness between her cheeks didn't seem likely to give her a choice as she stumbled to her feet and pulled a peignoir out of her half-unpacked steamer trunk. A cooling trickle of
wetness ran down the inside of Mary's thigh -- the mingled juices of her pussy and Jennifer's, both of which were used in liberal quantities to slick Mary's bum for penetration. Cursing, she swiped at the musky overflow with a palm, already tugging her robe into some semblance of decency and hurrying for the stairs as whoever was at the door thumped it yet again.

"I'm coming!" the noblewoman cried, and ignored Jennifer's wicked chuckle at her word choice. Warm air blew out of her bowels as she jogged down the stairs, and she groaned, clenching her strong muscles to try and close the loosened hole fa
ster. A little more of their slick juices squirted out onto her thighs as she hit the floor of the entrance hall and hurried over to the door.

Yanking the door open just a crack, Mary peered out, awkwardly aware of how flustered and rumpled she looked in her green peignoir, with her dark hair loose and tangled in its short bob.
Her eyes widened in shock.

The visitor did not look out of place at the front entrance of their manor house. In fact, in his elegant riding clothes and polished leather boots, he looked like he should be the one opening the door, or better still having a servant do it for him. Mary was abruptly jolted out of the lovely paradise she had been inhabiting with Jennifer, and back into the real world where she had at least
some
noble duties to perform, not the least of which was being ready to answer the door in something other than her nightclothes!

Fortunately, the handsome young man --
several years older than she, with dark hair much curlier and actually a bit longer than hers -- was one of the few people Mary didn't have to worry about embarrassing herself in front of. He had already embarrassed himself enough for at least two children, as far as their noble parents were concerned.

"Mary?" her brother asked, a hint of surprise on his face as he took in her appearance. "I'm just back from London. Is this...a bad time for you?"

A large coach stood behind him, with a footman driving, and Mary hastily tugged the front of her robe more tightly closed over her bosom. "Jack!" she replied, still stunned. "No -- no, it's fine. I'm always glad to see you. It's just been, um, a busy day." She cursed herself mentally; a silk peignoir didn't look like a "busy day" at all, except for the kind of busy day she desperately wanted to avoid making her brother think about.

The two of them had never been particularly close, though always fond. Jack had been old enough to le
ave the home when Mary was just hitting her first awkward growth spurt, and had promptly made a name for himself as a dashing young gallant in the Navy, which meant that every time he came home the house filled up with eligible bachelorettes who crowded Mary out of the way.

He had gone on to get ungallantly drummed
out
of the Navy for supporting a mutiny against his captain, which seemed to have disappointed the bachelorettes and everyone else along with them. Mary had never quite understood the scandal of it all, since it sounded like the captain had been a raving madman and the mutiny the only thing that got any of the crew home alive. But the commoners had still gone to prison, and Jack had been publicly whipped and discharged, and ever since then he had been a bit of a rover, about whom occasional odd stories floated back to dismay the Baron and Baroness.

Mary had assumed that Jack would go on being more "absentee" than "landlord" as far as the new estates in Ireland were concerned, and she was not at all sure what to do with him on her doorstep, not least because it was, technically, his doorstep.

"Er -- it's so good to see you," she began, lamely, acutely aware of his quirked eyebrow and curious expression. Footfalls sounded on the floor behind her, and a moment later Jennifer's slender hand joined Mary's on the door, pulling it wider to reveal the pair of women. A glance over Mary's shoulder reassured her that the maid had pulled on something like proper working attire (at least by the Smythe's relaxed standards). The redhead flashed Jack a sunny smile.

"Hullo, Jack," she greeted him, with a familiarity that would have shocked any other noble family. "
It's been a while. What are we going to hear from London when the gossip catches up with you this time?" She grinned, and Mary frowned worriedly. "We sent the other servants off before we arrived from the Continent, I'm afraid. It's been just us girls these last few nights. You're not planning on having your man stay with you, are you?"

She nodded at the coach, and Jack glanced over his shoulder as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh," he said absently, "not at nights, I suppose, then, no. He can stay in town and come round in the mornings. Is that all right?"

"Perfectly," Jennifer said with a sunny smile, and Mary could practically
see
possibilities dancing in her maid's eyes as she sized up Jack's handsome height and breadth. There was going to need to be a firm chat about what "off limits" meant, very clearly.

"Well," Mary broke in reluctantly. "Come in, I suppose! Have you been here at all before? We didn't really know where to stay. Oh! But, er, why don't you take the bedroom at the back of the house? It's ever so much bigger, and the front suite is, is..." She froze, trying to think of an excuse that would keep her brother out if those were his preferred rooms, just in case Jennifer hadn't put all their toys away.

"...is covered in mess from my sorting out the boxes that were left in the carriage house," Jennifer put in smoothly. "Old traps and springs and all sorts of nonsense. I do love to tinker -- always playing with some new toy or other, you know -- but half of them are probably still covered in some sort of slippery grease." She winked at Mary, who fought down the urge to throttle her maid. "We couldn't possibly make you deal with it. Take the master suite at the back, please! It hasn't been used at all."

Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Don't tell me Mary's making you sleep in that
closet that passes for servant's quarters at the back, downstairs?" he asked.

"Oh, no," Jennifer replied earnestly. "We share a bed. Ever since she was little, Miss Mary slept better with company. And to be perfectly honest with you, the place is a bit draughty...we've been doing all we can to keep each other warm at night!"

Mary blushed furiously, painfully aware that it was rather late in the day for her to still be in her peignoir even without Jennifer dropping hints that a child could have picked up. Had her maid always been so shameless around Jack? Mary couldn't remember; it had been years since the three of them were all under the same roof. But if her brother noticed anything out of the ordinary, he did a wonderful job pretending to be blithely oblivious, and he simply smiled and nodded at the pair of them.

"Well, all right, then," he said, waving for his man to start bringing his trunks in. "Is there any chance you could put a spot of lunch on? I'll settle in and come join you ladies. Oh! That's right. Mary, this
is for you." Fishing in his jacket, he produced a small cream-colored square of paper and thrust it into the startled Mary's hand. "Can you dine with the Countess Antrim and her daughter-in-law tonight? I know it's short notice, but her man caught me in town, and she's apparently a bit cross you haven't looked her up yet." He looked mildly reproving, and Mary blushed, painfully reminded of the social obligations she'd been neglecting in favor of Jennifer's more intimate attentions. "We are her neighbors, Mo. Try to put a good foot forward, eh?"

Chastened by both the gentle reproof and the use of her childhood nickname (which no one but Jack ever used), Mary nodded her head meekly. "Yes, of course," she said. "I'll have Jennifer lay my things out, and take your coach, if that's all right."

Belatedly, she realized that dinner would leave Jennifer alone with her brother for hours...and her maid was plainly smirking behind her polite, patient, "don't mind the help here" smile.

Damn
, Mary thought. Somehow, this was all going to go queer, she just knew it -- queerer even than being fucked in the bum with a bit of bannister by your maid!

~

Jennifer emerged from Mary's bathtub in a cloud of steam. She stretched luxuriously, feeling like a goddess rising from the sea. Lightly scented water cascaded down her body and gleamed in the light of several scattered candles.

The manor's bath was primitive but effective. A shallow basin underneath the high-legged copper tub allowed a fire to be stoked directly beneath it, and then banked down to keep the water at something like a tolerable temperature. So long as you didn't mind feeling a bit like a stew being cooked in its kettle, it worked better than a number of more technologically advanced baths that Jennifer had tried.

Over the course of her long, luxurious soak, the maid had paid more than a little attention to the soft, strawberry-pink folds of her pussy, fondling the dainty curves lovingly beneath the surface of the water. She couldn't believe her luck -- not one, but
two
dark-haired hotties to ogle around the house! And Jack was still the same charming rogue he'd always been, just like his sister had always been a prettily quiet little lady.

A lady in public, anyway
, she thought with a chuckle. The discovery of Mary's weak spot -- her incredibly sensitive bottom, and her lust for any kind of play that involved it -- had started one of the happiest weeks in Jennifer's life. She didn't even have to wonder whether Jack harbored any similarly wicked lusts, only which ones they were; the gossip from London (and anywhere else he traveled) was more than enough to convince Jennifer that a libertine streak ran deeply through the Lisle barony.

That, of course, left only the question of how she was going to bridge the gap between Jack's well-traveled wickedness an
d Mary's more recent liberation!

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