GOOD BREEDING (2 page)

Chapter Two

“Now, my dear little Phyllis, tell me what your orders are one more time.”

Phyllis repressed a sigh, flicked her tongue back from the long lick it was about to bestow upon her employer’s glorious cock and looked up at him.

Adam Bestwood was a handsome man with a dark, neatly trimmed moustache and sideburns and a thick head of hair. His face was regular featured with dark eyes that were staring down at her fixedly. A slight smile was playing about his lips, as well it might, Phyllis thought
smugly
, she knew she was a superb fellatrice.

“I am to keep a careful watch on Madam and am to report to you each night, sir,” she said in a singsong voice and ducked her head back to continue her fellation. His hand gripped in her hair, preventing her.

“And?” he asked sternly.

“And I am to take every opportunity
to corrupt her in any way I can.
”

“Good girl.”

He relaxed and she was able to go back to work.
Fellating Mr Bestwood was no chore but a privilege. His cock was long and thick with a curve along its formidable length and a helm that could have been almost impossible for a girl to get into her mouth had it been as thick as
it might have been
, instead it was slightly longer
and slenderer
than usual – and Phyllis had seen plenty in her young life; it was one reason that Mr Bestwood had hired her as his wife’s maid – and as a result
it
made for a substantial mouthful but one that was full of interest for her tongue.

On that particular morning, with the ship just a day away from landfall in the colonies of the West Indies at long last, it tasted quite rich
,
as water was getting scarce and its taste was further enhanced by Mrs Bestwood’s musk. Phyllis had not tasted her mistress’s cunny yet, although she harboured hopes, but she knew woman when she tasted it
. Sensuously she let her lip
s
slide forwards and down, feeling her mouth fill with the divinely soft skin over the steel-like strength of her master’s erection. One hand crept into the tight confines of his breeches to cup and roll the amazingly big scrotal sac. Above her she heard him sigh in pleasure as the ship rolled slightly, its timbers creaking.
His body shifted to adjust its balance.

“Don’t be too long,” he hissed.

Phyllis took her mouth away and smiled up at him; a servant for once entirely in charge, even if she was on her knees.

“Don’t fret so, sir. Mrs Bestwood will be promenaded by Captain Lombard up on deck as usual until well after ten o’clock. What with this being our last day at sea and all, he won’t
want to waste a second of M
adam’s company.”

Of course both of them knew that after ten o’clock, Captain Lombard would avail himself of the only other female on board, namely Phyllis. But she knew that a lot was riding on t
he next few weeks for her employer
and she could feel his increasing nervousness. There was one certain cure for that condition in all men and this time she ducked her head farther down his shaft, rolling the foreskin back, feeling the first of his pubes tickle her nose as the helm came to rest against the back of her throat and she opened it for him in the ultimate female caress
. She withdrew a little and pl
unged down again, the taste of M
adam’s honeydew mixing with his rich earthiness and then she lifted her head one more time. Up above she heard her master whisper her name and as she plunged down again she was ready for the convulsive jerk of his body, the sudden swelling and pulsing in his magnificent tool and then her throat was filled time and time again by the thick spurts of his ejaculate. She swallowed quickly but not in any panic and was thus able to contain the outpouring with
well-practised
comfort. As the pulses faded she slowly lifted her head and flicked her tongue against the sensitive spot at the base of the helm to encourage the last few drops from him. He jerked and groaned as the last traces of orgasm trembled through him. Phyllis took her time over cleaning him and gave every i
ndication of reluctance to have
him
leave her mouth
. She knew that was the surest way to guarantee that the man would want to return
and with landfall imminent she was well aware that there would be more female competition around than Mrs Bestwood
from now on
.

Holding onto the side of the narrow cot that Mr and Mrs Bestwood
had
shared for the length of the voyage, Phyllis
pulled herself to her feet,
brushed herself down and used her mistress’s small looking glass to pat her hair back into some semblance of good order and to ensure there were no traces of t
he master’s sperm on her chin. S
he could do nothing about the inevitable flush of excitement on her cheeks
however, but as she had sucked M
r Bestwood’s cock nearly every day of the voyage, she doubted that Mrs Bestwood would notice
anything unusual
. Beside her in the cramped space, Adam Bestwood buttoned himself up and likewise tidied himself, she bobbed him an ironic little curtsy and let herself out of the cabin. He waited a few minutes before following.

Up on the poop deck Phyllis found her mistress exactly where she had thought she would. Over by the starboard rail the captain was pointing out features of the shore that had hove into sight late the previous evening and now the whole ship was alive with the expectancy of making port by early evening.

Mrs Bestwood was a rare beauty and Phyllis could quite understand the captain paying her every attention that propriety would allow. Those attentions that propriety wouldn’t allow he paid to Phyllis.

As she approached the pair Mrs Bestwood laughed at something the captain had said and half turned towards Phyllis
. As always the maid took pleasure in studying her mistress. She was uncommonly tall but not so much that she overtopped men. She had black hair that was always as shiny as a raven’s wing tied neatly at her nape, her face was wide at the brow above large dark eyes in which a man might dro
wn – and Phyllis had seen a lot do so without Clara Bestwood
even
having been
aware of
them
– her lips were well shaped and her mouth was generously wide above a pretty little chin and a graceful neck. Her shoulders were wide and her chest supported breasts that rode high and proud beneath her blouse, promising deep cushions of softness to the man lucky enough to bed her. Her hips flared gracefully out from her corseted waist and her long legs gave her skirts a swing as she walked that set Phyllis’s pulse racing
, let alone any male onlookers
.

But Mr Bestwood’s problem lay in the fact that despite her sensual good looks and figure, Clara Bestwood had had a very sheltered upbringing and
Phyllis knew from her employer
that her skill between the sheets
was as lacking
as her looks were
promising.

“One may as well lie with a side of pork next to one in bed and expect it to give carnal satisfaction,” he had confided in Phyllis one night in London before they had set sail and when Clara had gone to Surrey to bid farewell to her mother. He had made up for lost time on Phyllis that night and she had burned and stung between her legs t
he next day. Something that
no man had been able to achieve for a very long time.

“Things are different on the plantations,” he had confided further during a break in their frantic lovemaking. “I want you to urge her gently towards the end we have discussed. Lose no opportunity to try and unlock the feelings I am certain she harbours beneath those magnificent breasts of hers.
”

Phyllis had looked down, pouting, at her own not inconsiderable assets and Mr Bestwood had immediately been contrite and attentive, bringing the pink nipples smartly to attention.

“Tell me again what my reward will be for delivering such a prize
,” she had asked archly. In reply Adam Bestwood had rolled on top of her and she felt his hardened manhood once again demand entry, her body had surrendered instantly and as he had speared deeply into her he had whispere
d, “You know you will get every
thing you desire.”

He had made a considerable down payment on that promise that very night.

But now, as the West Indies drew close, she knew that the real work was about to begin.

“Ah, Phyllis!” the captain greeted her, “come and view our destination for a moment.”

She passed a pleasant interlude watching the mountainous coast drift past while the captain regaled them with tales of the piratical past, making Clara cover her mouth in shocked horror at his recounting of boarding parties and executions and hand to hand fights.

“Of course that is all in the past now and our merchants can ply their trades in safety,” he concluded and once again Phyllis was grateful for the fact that they had been able to get passage on a general freighter and not a slave ship. She knew from growing up around the docks in Bristol
how the vessels in the employ of those
particular
merchants
reeked.

“And now, Madam,” the captain said, making a bow towards Mrs Bestwood. “If I may, I must take my leave and request that your charming maid accompanies me to ai
d me in the final compilation of manifests and bills of lading and all the clutter of seafaring that need not concern you, my dear Mrs Bestwood
, but which Mr Bestwood has been kind enough to volunteer her for
.”

The captain offered her his arm and led her below to his cabin where the wake of the ship left rippling patterns of light across
the ceiling and Phyllis was
sodomised across the chart table.

It was a well-rehearsed routine; he stripped to the waist and she to her corset and stockings before stooping to lick and kiss his flaccid member, sticking out from his unbuttoned breeches. Captain Lombard was a well-preserved man of some sixty years and Phyllis didn’t find her time with him too irksome and in any case he paid well and promptly – something that she had learned to value in men far above mere looks. Using her hand to stroke him as well she nursed him towards full erection and felt his hand stroke her hindquarters where they swelled out invitingly from beneath the restriction of her corset
.

“Gad! I should have liked to ply a riding whip across those beauties,” he said, giving each buttock a hefty smack.

Phyllis chuckled and let her breath caress the rapidly hardening penis, sending it throbbing into full erection instantly. She was well accustomed to the sting of discipline and had learned to associate it with the punisher desiring release straight afterwards. As a result her cunny always moistened and her breasts swelled with lust when she was beaten,
but
unfortunately the intimate nature of below decks dwelling militated against that activity and so neither her employer nor the captain had been able to do more than deliver the occasional spank.

Bending the rigid prick downwards slightly, Phyllis knelt and wiped the head over the swells of her breasts until he groaned with need. Only then did she rise and bend across the table, carefully sweeping the charts aside first. She felt his hand plunge into her honeypot and scoop a good handful of her thick secretions out to use as lubricant around her tightly puckered anus and then he was urgently pushing against her. She relaxed into the pressure and felt herself ease open as the head thrust in and presently she was experiencing all the conflicting sensations of sodomy
. However, a prolonged and final promenade with Clara Bestwood had had a bad effect on the captain and no sooner was he able to move in and out in comfort than she felt him begin to fountain his come deep into her insides, easing his passage still further but depriving her of the friction she so enjoyed. He slammed his pelvis against her several time and then she felt him begin to soften and wilt quickly, sliding out of her and leaving her bereft, her anus puckering closed once more in its wake.

The captain tossed a handful of coins onto the table as she hur
riedly donned her dress again
. Two men, two loads of hot spunk and hardly an ounce of pleasure for herself. She was desperate to get back to her own little cupboard of a cabin and use her hands to accomplish what neither man had. She could feel cooling sperm oozing down the backs of her thighs in any case and needed a towel.

“You have a fine body, Phyllis,” the captain told her as she scooped up her coins. “On the plantations you know, a serving woman with an arse and tits like yours, whatever her colour will
inevitably find herself the object of male desires. And some of those might be quite extreme.”

“Yes captain, thank you!” she panted as she slipped out
of
his cabin, ran a few feet down the companionway and slipped into her own cabin, having to press herself against her cot to close the door, but fumbling her skirts up as soon as she had managed it. Thank God the growing heat in the last two weeks of the voyage had made underwear uncomfortable and unhealthy. In only a few seconds her hand was fumbling in the sweaty and slimy heat of her groin, her fingers diving upwards to stir her sodden cunt into eagerly awaited action while her thumb
rubbed viciously hard at her clitoris, she bared her teeth in a grimace of urgency as she rasped and frigged
herself to an orgasm that was
purely a functional one, one that would do until something better came along. As she slumped against the cabin wall she smiled at the memory of the captain’s warning.