She fell face first onto her bed, I lofted her skirts to reveal a comely rump. “Myself and my daughter Monica,” she explained, “She is twenty but is afflicted with the Greek disease.”
“From the island of Lesbos?” I enquired. My member at half mast was flailing and stiffening. “Mother!” she protested as her own mother had fed my cock into the daughters womb. Therefore it behoved me to acquire not just temporary lodgings but a more permanent abode. It ran to four levels in all from cellar to servants rooms in the attick spaces. My hands sought her breasts and my lips sought her neck, her ears, her cheeks. She, for it was a she, was very welcoming, somewhat more elderly than I but very pleasant. “Oh no, she’s had all sorts up her, just not a cock,” her mother explained, “Fingers, the hearth brush handle, poor girl is at it constantly, can’t get satisfaction. “Indeed,” I said. She resigned herself to her fate and tried to stifle any indications that she enjoyed the experience. “But what about my Monica,” she said, “It will ruin her life this aberration, she needs a good corking don’t you see.”
“I really feel this conversation has reached a conclusion madam,” I averred, “Shall we shake on our agreement and make arrangements for the deeds to be
