He regained his balance.I was still waiting on the couch for Tommy's return. I ran my hands all over my body slipping my finger deep into my pussy thi...king of Tommy's cock. Tommy ran over to the couch and climbed back on top of me."Oh Tommy! Tommy! Take me! Take me now!" I yelled in desperate anticipation of his now protected cock.He once again took his cock into his hand and guided it toward my wet pussy. He let his cock slowly slide through his hand and enter my love whole. He pushed his cock. I feel apprehensive and resolute. I feel hopeful I've pleased her and anxious I haven't. I feel ready."I feel ... ready, Madam."She laughs."Ready! That's not a word I expected to hear. But let's see how ready you are."She reaches now for the long, slim, box, and draws from it a riding crop.The crop is thin and springy, perhaps two feet long, with a silver sleeve decorating the handle, and a shaft made of black, pleated leather, with a leather butterfly woven into the tip.She slips her wrist. This is what I found."He put up a sepia photo of what was without doubt a Victorian man. Hair cut short with a neat side parting, a moustache and a full beard, neatly trimmed in the style of Edward the VII. The eyes almost glared at the photographer with disdain. He was almost certainly an aristocrat. "This is Rupert St.John Grantley, Earl Grantisbury to be precise. He was a friend of Edward VII from his late teens and continued as one of Edwards's companions' right through to his death." He. "Saw it? I wish I had; then, I would know for sure what had been going inside me all those years." Excuse me?"Given the circumstances, her answer made perfect sense. "On those few occasions he came into my bedroom and we did it, he always made sure the lights were off. Then, once he was finished, he'd get up, go to his to his bathroom, and I hear the shower running for at least an hour. Since we slept in separate bedrooms, I wouldn't see him again until breakfast the next morning.After he died,.