“Father he chose me, we are sort of married,” Miss Loveridge suggested. “Yes, in the Linen cupboard!” she replied excitedly. Sex vedio “Bloody good day for thee, rogering me daughter,” he agreed, “Ee she could earn a bloody fortune down whore house but her mother wants a title for her see.”
“So I understand,” I agreed. I should have said no, but her allure was too strong. “Emily!” the voice bellowed, “I said woo the boody bloke not fuck he’s brain out.”
Her father came in sight, a broad shouldered stout thickset man in a moleskin waistcoat and heavy blue overcoat cut in a style which has never and will never be in any way of the modern style. “There is more to marriage than fucking beside a brook on a sunny afternoon.” I explained. “Oh god, now what?” I asked and went to withdraw but she held me tightly to prevent it. “For I can see his moistened tip poking out like a mouse from his burrow,” she teased
I reacted in horror but all was well, he was well hidden. Fully sheathed in her heaven at a moments notice. “Eyes which never leave me, a vaginal passage which moistens instantly at my touch,” I ventured callously.
