Quid pro Quo - Part Two - Sex Stories

Quid pro Quo - Part Two

... couple" would go to live on the Limburg estate. As she departed, I heard Kaete whisper to Rosamund, "You can have your quid pro quo now." In the kitchen that evening, I came up behind Rosamund, clasped my hands around her waist, kissed her neck and said, "So what is this quid pro quo ?" She laughed, and after turning off the oven, rested her head back on my shoulder. Raising my clasped hands she separated them and placed one on each breast, the nipples already hard. "Can you guess what I want? After you've showered go and await my pleasure in my bedroom." When eventually she joined me she made a charming vision. She had a slender if not gaunt naked body which I found very attractive. Casting aside her silky dressing robe with an attitude of 'Well, I suppose we might as well get it over with', something far removed from the way she was actuially feeling at that moment, she approached me in a very determined manner, her nipples protruding at the centre of rather sagging but neverthless still beautifully shaped breasts. She had highlighted her eyes with blue liner and fluffed out her hair with the dryer. "Well, are you going to do me now or what?" She liked it when I pushed her back on the bed and responded to my kisses at once. Her face flushed, the 51-year old Lady of the Lower Dutch East Indian Nobility sprawled impatiently in her nakedness, one leg bent at the knee and open to reveal her sex. I had read in a sex book that the area between the clitoris and vaginal orifice ...

... is highly sensitive in most women. 'A slow tantalizing licking of the area...will provide erotic arousal and pleasure orgasmic to most women.' I was very interested to find out if that was true for my first experiment in sex. I knelt between Rosamund's thighs and told her to rest the back of her knees on my shoulders. She did as I said but demanded: "How are you going to get your penis into me from down there?" According to the sex book, a woman's genitalia are structured in a certain way. Rosamund was not typical in this respect. She had no exterior clitoral structure at all except for a thin stringy appendage which apparently tickled when touched but otherwise served no purpose. To gasps of protest and indignation ("What on earth do you think you are doing there, Rosenhagen?") by tongue play I got the petals of her labia open and licked up her vaginal secretions, which were now quite profuse. She was shocked at the sensation of being tongued up and down between the clitoral string and the vaginal opening, made two stifled gasps of protest and encouragement and then she was overwhelmed by her orgasms, orchestrated amidst terrible groans of pleasure. Finally after long minutes she relaxed and pushed my forehad away. "I can't stand any more, Rosenhagen," she cried. I cuddled her thighs in my arms and caressed her abdomen. I had conquered Her Ladyship with my unexpected tactic. "Rosenhagen...? "What, Rosamund?" "Where did you learn to do that?" "From a book, Rosamund. Would you ...