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I felt my cheeks go flush. Missy quickly apologized and shut my door. I froze and just laid there looking up at the ceiling, embarrassed from what she had just witnessed. My hand still on my shaft, I pondered what my next move should be. I slowly rubbed myself under the covers, I was still hard. I continued to masturbate slowly as I strained my ears to hear any movement near my bedroom door. I kept rubbing, a little harder, a little faster. I pulled down the sheets again as I felt the surge of cum wanting to erupt out of me. My nipples were hard as I can my other hand over them. I fought the urge to cum as long as I could. Then just as I was about to explore, I heard Missy's voice from just outside my room. I wanted to say something but couldn't as cum shot up and out of me. I only managed a feeble "Unggh, just...a ......second!" My climax was oddly endhanced by Missy just being a few feet away behind the hollow door. A few bursts of cum blasted out of me and onto my face and chest. It was like that most Saturdays, and I hated it at first, though I was grateful he was not putting his paste up into my front chamber and filling me belly with babies.” Muriel said, “She was surprised that her mother had held her hands, did she always do that?” but the girl smiled then said “no, maam, just that first time, I was expected to be on my stool ready for him from then onwards. He didn’t have mother again said I was tighter, and she was getting it elsewhere anyway. Sometimes he fetched home friends and they would take a turn in me after father, I hated that, but most times it was just him, the rest having mother!” “Who were these so-called friends?” Muriel asked and was astonished when the maid listed, “the blacksmith, postman the schoolmaster and, old-mason the grave digger, all sorts really.” She smiled, then as an afterthought, “Oh, and the master, but only the once!” a look of horror crept over the mistresses face, “you mean my husband, had you?” the maid looked.
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