robbed

London - 1890

It wasn’t very often one of the girls in my household missed boarding school, but I did. Damnable, stifling London summers. I’d been sitting in a formal dinner with Sir Roger Parsons and company for the past four hours with my brothers and parents, positively devouring his eldest son, Jack, and he’d only glanced at me a couple of times.

He'd grown up nicely, Jack. We used to play together as children. He'd even tried to kiss me once. Now, I know, I'd let him kiss me whenever he liked. Perhaps I shouldn't have rejected him when we were twelve.

At one point I spilled tea onto my dress so I could go change into one with a lower neckline. I’d preened and bent over, allowing him as much of my cleavage as possible, and he’d only glanced once or twice. However, there did seem to be a rewarding thickening between his legs that made me feel somewhat better.

To be fair, I suppose there was a thickening of another sort between mine as well. Finally, unable to handle anymore, I retired to my room and took care if it myself, though as anyone knows, that's hardly satisfying in the same way.

At least it's still proper for young ladies to retire early. After about four hours it sounded like the rest of the house had retired as well. Father had been going on and on about having a new locksmith come in tomorrow because of all these strange robberies that have been happening around the city. Why, the Parsons were struck almost first. I thought it all rather thrilling.

When I heard the small tinkling of glass breaking in the sitting room, I sat straight up, unsure whether I should alert my family or stay tucked in bed. After all, not one of the families victimized by the theives had been harmed.

My door eased open moments later, and a tall, rather well built figure clad in black eased his way in. I feigned sleep, watching him from small slits in my eyes, and he seemed to take notice of me immediately.

That's probably because it was hot, so I'd worn the almost sheer night-dress that one could clearly see any color through, including my nipples and the darkening between my thighs ... oh, and I'd tossed off the blanket just in case he'd wanted to look. What's the point of having magnificent breasts if one can't show them off?

He vanished for a moment, and I resisted the urge to sit up and look for him, until my bed creaked under his weight. Immediately my eyes flew open and I started to say something, but his weight was already atop me.

"Shh, Miss Fulham, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just making sure you don't scream and wake your dear father."

Wait a tick! I know that voice. Oh, how very clever. They'd been sitting through dinner taking inventory. Well, we'll see who silences whom.

I released a suggestive little moan and arched my hips and back, making my breasts nearly spill out of the top of my filmy chemise. To my great pleasure I felt a sizable swelling pressed into my hip, and heard an answering groan from him.

"Careful, kitten, you don't know what you're playing at." He said after a moment, making sure I felt his bulge. His hands had gone from securing me to toying at the soft flesh beneath my ribcage.

I shifted my shoulders a little so he'd see my hardened nipples, and as soon as his eyes flew there, I rubbed my thigh a little on his cock. That seemed to be all it took.

His hands skimmed up my gown and over my breasts, gripping it until it spilled through the spaces between his fingers. I let my head drop and enjoyed the sensation while he rubbed his thumbs over the nipples, and finally, pulled the fabric down and ran his tongue over them.

I wrapped my legs around his thigh and pressed myself into his leg, rubbing on the rough fabric of his pants, which caused the most fantastic sensations.

With another one of his sexy moans, he let one of his free hands travel back down my snatch, and sunk a finger into its depths, using the tip of another to toy with my clit.

The pressure of the sucking on my breast was becoming more intense, and I twisted and rubbed against his hand until I felt my first climax coming. He felt me shudder agains this hand, and arched up, a smile playing over the visable half of his face. "Get what you want, kitten?"

I smiled and sat up, pushing him under me, then straddled his waist, rubbing my bare sex over his cloth covered cock. This took him by surprise and he muttered some pretty creative explatives. I lifted the damp chemise over my head, ran a hand over my glistening breasts, and leaned forward to kiss him, but only for a second. My hand had gone south to find an opening in the breeches, and had now closed over an impressive sized cock. I squeezed and rubbed and he continued to curse, until I eased down, making sure my breasts rubbed over the cock for a few more minutes than strictly necessary before I slid my mouth down over it.

Exactly the dessert I'd been craving all through dinner. I rubbed my tongue over it, massaged it, blew on it, sucked it like I'd once sucked a straw in gelati, wanting desperately for the cream to come through, but unwilling to stop the festivites for the evening there.

I crawled off so he could recuperate, and let him watch me finger myself to keep the heat at bay until he could properly pillage me.

He pinned me down, finally and used a well-muscled thigh to pry my legs apart. "You don't even know who I am," he managed through stinted breaths, finally pushing the head of his cock against me.

I nodded, "Yes, I do, Jack."

I thought perhaps I'd ruined it, because he froze, and I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, but he was smiling, and he ripped off the mask.

"We're still going to rob you blind," he said, pushing himself deep into me.

"Mmmm," was the only response I could manage as he reared back and began to thrust.

My breasts jiggled in time and he would occasionally bend down to lick one of them, driving me wild.

His rough strokes sent spasms of pleasure through me. When I knew I could bear no more, I squeezed my hands on his shoulders to let him know he should come. He blew up inside of me almost at the same time my body tightened, squeezing his cock out of anything it may have left behind.

With one last intimate squeeze of my bosom, something I'd known Jack had wanted to do for years, and one very deep kiss, he was off, and so was a good chunk of our furniature.

The thing is, only I know that, and I'm sure, somehow, that Jack and I will have many more encounters.