Phileas Fogg – A Memoir Pt. 15 free porn video

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I exiled myself to my residence on Saville Row, free to deal with my guilt each and every day. I read every thing I could lay my hands on. I grew a beard, shaved it off, then grew another and shaved that off as well. In no time at all a year flew by and I had not left the house at all. My housekeeper was the only person I saw or spoke with in all that time and those exchanges were brief, usually having to do with the meals for the following week. I had let my manservant go as he had little duties to perform and grew uneasy with me from the first days of my self-induced exile.

It was on September 12, 1859, exactly fourteen months to the day I last saw my beloved Abigail that a prolonged state of horniness drove me from the house for the first time. I went directly to Dolly’s shop, where I thought I would find some temporary solace only to be reminded that Dolly had married a gentleman of means, although she had continued to run the dress shop which was prospering beyond her wildest dreams. Dolly was indeed happy to see me and extremely distressed to see my condition, and on learning of my reason for paying her this visit offered to relieve me of my problem in the dressing room.

I declined, having seduced one man’s wife and destroying her life and mine, I had no intention of repeating the deed.

‘Well then,’ Dolly said as if chastising a child. ‘Perhaps I might introduce you to a friend or several friends who might pay the discrete visit to your home from time to time?’

That had a noticeable affect on me for I knew it would suffice my needs greatly, while harming no one.

‘That is a splendid idea, Dolly. As usual, you have the solution ready at hand for the most tedious of my problems.’ I kissed her hand in gratitude, pleasing her no end.

‘I shall send a messenger to you when I have found the right woman for you and as you are always in residence, I will include the time of her arrival as well.’

I could not contain myself and hugged the dear woman to my chest in part to thank her and then too, to hide my tears of gratitude.

Three days later, a messenger rang up and I received the note as promised.

‘My dear Phileas, I believe I have the perfect woman for you, one Mrs. Eunice Bentley, widowed some four years ago. Her husband was in the military and succumbed to malaria while in the King’s Guard in Calcutta. I find her to be an attractive woman and not without certain charms and abilities in the area of which you spoke the other day.

If she does not meet your standard, or need, please let me know as I have another woman in mind as well. Mrs. Bentley will arrive at exactly . . . see I remember how punctual you are about such things . . . one p.m. on Tuesday as it is your housekeeper’s day off. I do hope you haven’t changed her off day, but knowing you, I expect you have not.

Enjoy one another dearest . . . God I am flushed with desire myself and only wish it were me rather than her, for I know what great passion your loins have stored up in them.’

‘One last thing — Please do not embarrass Mrs. Bentley by offering her money for her time with you. She is without financial need as her husband came from a wealthy family. She, like you, has certain needs. I believe you were made for one another.’

‘I hope you become happy once more. Once again, thank you for everything.’

Very affectionately,

Dolly

*****

At precisely one PM on Tuesday the door knocker rapped three times and with the housekeeper off the premises I hastened to open the door. I had a little speech ready to deliver, but it never left my lips as I was brought up short by the vision before me.

Mrs. Eunice Bentley stood framed in the doorway with the early afternoon sunlight streaming through the material of her dress, leaving fragments of her body silhouetted against the light. She could not have been a day older than two and twenty. I simply took her hand and escorted her inside, so smitten with her that I forgot to close the door. Dolly had exceeded my wishes a thousand times over.

Finally finding my voice, I managed to say, ‘Quite an entrance that.’

‘I planned it,’ she laughed, giving me the once over as well while I was caught up in her laughter’s pleasant tinkle. ‘That is, on seeing the position of the sun, I realized you might be able to see more of me than one would normally.’

I stepped back to admire the youthful widow before me.

‘Mrs. Bentley, you are a vision. A vision indeed and I am delighted to make your acquaintance.’

‘Thank you, kind sir. Dolly has had nothing but the highest compliments when she talks of you.

‘Do you like what you see as well?’ She inquired, pirouetting for my inspection.

‘I am unable to speak, so fascinated am I by your charms,’ I managed to croak out. And followed with, ‘I also like what I see . . . very much!’

Then we were in each other’s arms, hugging and squeezing as we entered into our first kiss.

‘As do I, Mr. Fogg, as do I!’ Mrs. Bentley gasped as she tore open the buttons of my white shirt, popping several before tearing it from my shoulders. My hands were running up and down her flanks, marveling at the feel of a supple young woman after a year’s absence. As she took my face in her hands and kissed me again, I raised her gown, and grasping the firm but plump mounds of her arse, pulled her tight against my already hard cock.

How she managed it I never knew, but my trousers were suddenly round my ankles and she was tugging away at my underwear, forcing it down to join my trousers. Then, with my prick poking straight up in the air, Mrs. Bentley managed to put a small distance between us and removed the remainder of her clothing. Stark naked, she jumped lightly up and gripped me about the waist with her thighs, her hands then joined around my neck to support her body weight. We both moaned, and with a dexterity that I’d never encountered before, lifted her arse as her cunt searched about for my prick to spike itself on. Other, lovely, incredible sensations followed rapidly thereafter. Her small breasts and hard nipples crushed against my chest. Her open mouth pressed hungrily against mine, her long tongue explored my mouth and sucked out my tongue. And then I felt the indelible warmth of her moist cunt closing round my member and drawing it into her fiery quim.

Using most of my available strength, I lumbered over to the glass table just inside the entranceway and sat her down upon it. My prick steamed deeper into her as she leaned backward and moaned that moan of exquisite satisfaction that only a woman being pleasured can emulate. A moment later, Mrs. Bentley was fully impaled upon my prick.

‘AHHH! GOD, YES!’ I hissed, breaking the lip bruising kiss. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the flash of a carriage riding by followed by a gentleman mounted on one of those new contraptions I believe called a unicycle.

‘THE DOOR!’ I gasped. ‘Damn it, Mrs. Bentley, the door, it’s still open!’

She began to laugh while using her cuntal muscles to squeeze me within her and I almost fainted from the sheer pleasure of it.

‘Let them watch, let them watch us make the beast with two backs, do you really care?’

‘No! FUCK NO!’ I bellowed, loud enough for any passer-by to hear, and perhaps to see us fornicating on a glass table in my vestibule.

‘Let them all watch us rutting away!’

Still I had the presence of mind to lift Mrs. Bentley’s writhing form and lower her to the rug in the parlor, removing us the sight of any passersby. I eased half-way out and then smashed into her, feeling my testicles smack against her arse as she roared her pleasure. Then she was humping frantically back at me, and inarticulate sounds bubbled from her throat as I matched her thrust for thrust until clutching the cheeks of my arse with her fingers, she spent wildly. When I paused to recapture some air in my lungs, she whined, ‘More, more,
more!’

Not having spent yet, I teased her cunt lips, rubbing the knob of my prick up and down her glistening slit for a moment, and then slamming it into her hard and fast, catching her off guard and causing her to moan that she was about to spend again. I reached out and mauled her breasts, pinching and pulling on the hard tips of her nipples. That triggered a loud, wailing cry and her stomach and cunt muscles rippled and pulsed. Then a loud, shuddering orgasm caused her body to arch off the rug as she did indeed spend again.

Mrs. Bentley’s orgasm was prolonged and powerful, her stomach muscles rippling with each of the many contractions of her cunt. In no way did it dampen her lust for more.

‘Oh, what a wonderful man you are! Oh, you fucking wonderful man! Can yer do it again?’

My next words apparently won her over for life. ‘I haven’t come as yet, but I’m very close, my love.’

Her words were harsh, even brutal on the face of it. ‘Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Rape me!’ It was more beg than command. Raising her legs even higher, I entered her again. This time fucking her wildly as she’d requested and she responded in kind.

‘Don’t tease me, fuck me! Come on, fuck me, and prove to me just how good you are!’

I rammed into her as fast as I possibly could, feeling my sperm roaring up to the tip of my cockhead.

‘I’m going to milk you, you fucker, going to milk all your spunk out of your ball sacs and suck out your balls!’

Again, moments later, she crowed, ‘You’ve got to come in me!’

Her voice grew hoarse, ‘You’re going to come in me, you’re . . . going . . . to . . . come . . . in . . . MEEE!’

‘OH YES, YOU FUCKING SLUT!’ I responded, releasing my load to cannonade against her cervix.

‘Yes. Yes, yes! Call me a slut again!’

‘You slut, take my spunk!’ I cried out, too weak by this point to do anything else. She continued to pound back at me until her body trembled and shuddered as another powerful climax finally silenced her. Panting heavily, Mrs. Bentley rested for half a minute then struggled up on her elbows and reached down to the last remnants of spunk oozing from the tip of my prick and scooped the thread with her fingers, raised it to her lips and lewdly licked it off.

‘Mmmm, you nasty fucker,’ she gasped, ‘I like the way you fuck and I like the way you taste. Dolly was dead on about you.’

‘Thank you, I think,’ I said in turn.

‘Well there is one thing, love.’

‘What might that be, Mrs. Bentley?’

Before answering, she licked my ear then trailed her tongue across my eyes and face to my mouth for another sharing of saliva. Only then did she deem to whisper, ‘If we’re to do this more often, and I dare say I hope to heaven we do, then you’ll be forming the habit of cleaning up your own mess.’

She kissed me again then broke it with a long sigh, and said, ‘But first, I think we had better close that door before we get arrested.’

*****

We remained naked for the rest of the evening. While eating, Mrs. Bentley insisted on playing with my prick, restoring it to life several times which delayed our repast until quite cold. Neither of us cared a whit about it for Mrs. Bentley had this wonderful penchant for taking me into her mouth, bringing me to the very brink of spurting and yet stopping at the last moment to leave me panting and hungering for completion.

After she did this the third time I lifted her onto the table amongst the dishes and ate her moist pussy most vigorously, intending to leave her without satisfaction as well. But Mrs. Bentley pulled off her orgasm well before I wanted to stop feasting on her delicious cunt. I was slightly miffed at this and so I flipped her lithe, young body over, dropped her feet to the floor and entered her from behind. She turned her head back to me, grinned wickedly and said, ‘The slut wins another match. Shall we play on?’

I made no reply to her snide, yet accurate remark, but took her from behind, squatting over her hips and pounding my inflamed member in and out of her slippery cunt, crushing her swinging breasts in my hands. A violent orgasm followed. I jerked out of her and spent between her buttocks on her arsehole and then slid back into her cunt until I’d finished coming. Then, with Mrs. Bentley still shuddering from her climax, I leapt upon her and sucked her quim until she spent again. Then we both lay quiet for the remainder of the evening.

I woke her the following morning by kissing her hip, then her buttocks and then lay a trail of wet kisses along her inner thighs as she moaned contentedly.

‘Please do not scream or carry on as the housekeeper is making our breakfast and it wouldn’t do to frighten her off. She’s deathly afraid of banshees, she is.’

Mrs. Bentley giggled inanely at this, then whispered, ‘Good morning, Mr. Fogg.’

She was trembling with excited anticipation as I undid the little black satin ribbon that held her nightgown together under her bust. I wondered at the woman’s foresight to bring not only the nightgown, but fresh clothing for this day as well. Was she that confident of staying the night? Then I laughed at my foolishness. Of course she was. She was a beautiful woman come to ravish a horny hermit in his cave. That she would require additional clothing was obvious to any but a dullard such as me. These thoughts vanished as I moved downward to kiss and suckle at each of her adorable breasts.

As my sucking grew stronger Mrs. Bentley started breathing faster and began playing with my hair. While she did so I squeezed the breast not in my mouth.

‘Ooooh,’ she moaned, softly biting her bottom lip. The fact that she loved what I was doing brought me to full station as it were and I turned to biting and sucking both nipples in turn until they were both hard and red.

Abandoning her luscious nipples, I moved down her stomach, planting kisses along the way until I reached the tuft of thick hair and raised her legs while also spreading them apart. After parting her sweet honeyed folds with my fingers I stuck my tongue inside. She was wet and had an exquisite taste. I reveled in her delicate moans as I worked my tongue in and out and over her labia. Eventually her clit emerged and I pounced upon it sucking until she begged me to leave off.

‘Mmmm it feels sooo good,’ she cooed softly as I gamahuched away.

Ravenous with lust, I raised her buttocks and sent my tongue betwixt her arse cheeks. First I sent a finger up that hole, and found it extremely tight. I worked the finger in and out and round and round while sucking up the copious amount of juices pouring from her lovely cunt like a small stream in the countryside.

‘Ooooh,’ she moaned, a little louder this time.

‘God you taste so wonderful,’ I gasped, daring to take my mouth from her cunt to tell her.

I was mad with desire to fuck her and pulled myself up, startling her to some extent. She looked at me with wide eyed wonder, probably puzzled at my halting the gamahuching when she was so close to that divine pleasure. Not that I cared at this moment, for I was concerned with nothing but my own pleasure just then, and knelt between her legs and stuck my manhood into her tight, wet, little slit.

Mrs. Bentley gasped at the first thrust, looking up to see me grimacing with the sweetness of the moment, for aside from an orgasm, there is nothing better for either sex than the sheer pleasure of the moment when a man’s cock crosses the threshold of a woman’s well lubricated quim. And that applies to men and women equally. There is no finer moment in all of one’s life then either of those two aforementioned times.

Once I was deep inside her I began to pound away at her love nest, fucking her hard and fast, reveling in her grunts and half-whispered endearments and grunting right back at her. I could feel it building within my sacs and yelled wildly, ‘YES! YES! MRS. YES!’

And I came in her, my hot spunk flooding h
er cuntal walls and its sheer heat caused Mrs. Bentley to climax along with me. Then I collapsed on her, my fully body weight burying her in the feathered mattress, yet she held me tightly and we lay thus for an eternity until I got a small cramp in my calf and shifted my weight from her to tend to it. While I rubbed my calf back to normal, Mrs. Bentley ran her hands through my hair and lavished kisses on my face and shoulders.

I was most surprised to hear myself utter the words, ‘I love you, my darling.’ Yet I did so. I think she too was stunned to hear them, but she only increased the intensity of her kisses, moving to my chest after a while and sucking my nipples, which grew to a size I had not dreamed possible.

‘I am very fond of you already, too Mr. Fogg, but I cannot in good conscious say that I love you. You must know this, for to go forward otherwise would be under false pretenses.’

‘I know, I know,’ I said.

‘I think you said what you said because it has been so long for you without . . . proper company and that when you have had time to think you may wish to retract those lovely words.’

‘No, I shall not ever take them back. I am not asking you to marry me. I am, however, telling you that I do indeed have the greatest respect and feelings for you. To me that means that I love you, unequivocally, undeniably, and with all my heart.’

‘OH!’

I realized that I was up to snuff once more and waved my poke at her chin.

‘Ahhh,’ she sighed. ‘Ready for another go, my love?’

‘I am indeed. But Mrs. Bentley, if you don’t mind, might I have you in a different way?’

‘I am yours to do with as you wish. For after hearing you confess your love for me, how can I refuse you anything?’

‘Let’s move over to the desk, shall we?’ I said.

‘What of the housekeeper?’ She inquired as she moved toward the desk.

‘She’ll keep the breakfast warm for us, I expect.’ I said, no caring a whit about food at the moment as my eyes were feasting on the plump arse she was presenting to me.

Mrs. Bentley stood beside the desk looking at me.

‘Spread your legs as far as you can.’ I said by way of instruction. ‘A little more . . . yes, that’s good.’

Mrs. Bentley had taken one step closer to the desk and bent over it on her forearms, then shuffled her feet apart. I lifted up the sheer nightgown and exposed her bottom and began to play with her pucker using my fingers. I found her very tight and didn’t want to hurt her. I resigned myself to being patient, but could not refrain from asking if she had ever had a prick there before.

‘Oh, yes, I have, twice, actually. The first was when I was a wee thing and he had nothing but a little wiener the size of your pinky. I hardly felt him a tall. Ah but the other bugger, he had one all right. Almost as big as you he was, and he was in a great hurry to get in and out. He hurt like hell he did. And I want yer to know I appreciate your taking your time with me and getting me wet enough so’s it can ease in and out like it’s supposed too.’

Her words touched me and I had not the heart to cause her any pain. So I dropped to my knees and gently eased her buttocks further apart, then leaned forward and pushed my face between them.

Mrs. Bentley’s head whipped up and her long neck craned to see me. Then she sighed, bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. My tongue rippled into her crack, found her arsehole and swirled slowly over the puckered flesh.

Mrs. Bentley’s fingers turned white as they clenched the sides of the desk and her face contorted, but she forced herself to remain still. The room was filled with the scent of her arousal.

‘You’ll be winning my heart yet, you beguiling bastard, you!’ She said and began to weep tears of happiness.

In short order her arse cheeks opened up even wider and her lovely cunt lips unfurled fully, the evidence of her wetness glistening in the early morning light.

‘Mrs. Bentley,’ I said after licking and sucking on her puckered crater for a time, ‘We’ll have to work at this, I don’t want to hurt you, but I still want to do it this way. It will just take a while that’s all, are you all right with it?’

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THE CARNATIC, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan. She carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers. Two state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied-those which had been engaged by Phileas Fogg. The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait, and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to totter to a seat on deck. It was Passepartout; and what had...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 2

I am, sir," Dorian Gray went on, "a gentleman who has sold his very soul for a very foolish purpose -- to keep my youth and beauty." "Oh, come sir do you expect me to believe..." I stopped, clamping my lips shut remembering the events of the last hour. "I see you recall the rather strange sight of me being dashed against the pavement and run over rough-shod by the carriage, eh?" I could barely nod my agreement. He casually poured himself another brandy and offered me more of the...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 21

IN order to shorten the journey, the guide passed to the left of the line where the railway was still in process of being built. This line, owing to the capricious turnings of the Vindhia Mountains, did not pursue a straight course. The Parsee, who was quite familiar with the roads and paths in the district, declared that they would gain twenty miles by striking directly through the forest. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, plunged to the neck in the peculiar howdahs provided for them,...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 31

London was agog at the news of Fogg's accomplishment. Queen Victoria, on learning that he had risked everything, sent an emissary to Fogg's residence to request that he present himself, Aouda and Passepartout at court. When the emissary learned of the forthcoming marriage, he rushed back to her majesty with the news. Queen Victoria declared that they should wed at Westminster Abby a week hence, with royal flourishes and pageantry. The elated trio of lovers was still digesting this news,...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 9

That evening, following supper, Baring revealed his ulterior motive. The man was a complete cad. It goes without saying that he had a fixation on seducing young girls, but he now correctly assumed that I had one as well. "Mr. Fogg," said he, "let us get down to brass tacks, shall we?" "You have my undivided attention, sir," I said looking him in the eye. "You are aware that I have a... shall we say, propensity for young women. The younger the better, but not so young as you might...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 13

When Abigail left me, I decided to proceed with my seduction of Nicole even though it filled me with guilt and a certain dread of what would surely follow. A few minutes before ten, Nicole knocked on my door and inquired if I wanted some tea. Opening the door I found the scamp had it there with her on a tray. She smiled and then giggled, then said with a humorous sagacity far beyond her years, "Tis for our walk, Mr. Fogg." "Fuel?" I inquired innocently, knowing she meant to fill my...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 1

This then is my life from my viewpoint. At least that part of which I wish to retain for the rest of my days which are not all that many, I am sure. I was born in London in the spring of 1834. I had four brothers and three sisters and it happened that I was the fifth of the lot and the only one alive by the end of 1854. Life was hard. My parents tried to give us all an honest upbringing and decent education but could not compete with the likes of cholera, influenza and tuberculosis all so...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 4

October 1857 Several months passed quickly and I had all but forgotten the Mooring sisters. Still I had not had any but the slightest intimacies with a female of any age since that last afternoon of carnal wantonness. I concerned myself with getting my home in order, going to Sotheby's on a weekly basis and picking up excellent pieces, both of art and furniture and appliances. Finally, with the house fully furnished and both a housekeeper and servant hired, I decided it was time to look...

4 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 3

At university the following morning I studied my fellow third year students looking for one who was truly my peer. I say this not because I'm a snob, although I may well be one. But because of the age difference and my military service, both of which have caused me to be more mature physically and mentally then they. Not only did I not find one among them that I thought might make a worthwhile contribution to my sexual dilemma; but I reached a decision in the process of examining them and...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 7

I am not about to give an opinion as to the propriety or impropriety of capital punishment. On this point good men have differed, and will differ, I dare say, for some time to come. What I wish to impress upon the reader is the horrible nature and atrocious effect of a public execution. Dolly and I were passing by Newgate a few weeks later. Twas a Sunday and outside the formidable prison a considerable crowd was gathering. There were respectable men with their wives and children staring at...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 16

But it was affection, not love that bound Mrs. Bentley and I together. We both came to realize it after a short time, but after her arrival I found myself venturing out once again, first to stroll along Saville Row, and then London of an evening. Once again, this time at Mrs. Bentley's urging, I grew a beard; and eventually I took advantage of my club membership and soon entered into what one might say was a virtual ironclad routine of rising at the same time each morning and arriving at...

1 year ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 10

On arriving the following day, I was greeted by Abigail Courtney Baring who provided me with a tour of their sumptuous home and grounds as a pretext in meeting her eldest daughter, Nicole. We found her in the music room. It was a high-ceilinged room containing a grand piano and decorated with wall paintings of satyrs and nymphs romping through a garden, very much like the one around the house, and accompanied by fawns playing pan pipes. The windows, which the paintings surrounded, looked out...

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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 5

Doll, using her dainty left hand, gently stroked the length of my prick and on reaching it's zenith, spied a droplet of my seed appear at the tip. I pursed my lips and waited tensely to see what would transpire. I say this because women tend to react differently to the actions of a man's prick. While almost all but the most jaded are somewhat fascinated by this wondrous instrument, they go about handling one differently. That Dolly was no stranger to a man's pride and joy was evident from...

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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 6

And so it came to be that Dolly moved into Number 7 Saville Row with me. Neither the housekeeper, nor the manservant raised an eyebrow over it for which I was exceedingly grateful. Now I had done some introspective thinking around this time and concluded that I was not a very outgoing personage. I had few, if any friends. I had but few acquaintances; and worse I was perfectly comfortable with the situation. With Dolly as my daily and evening companion my sex life was more than enjoyable. For...

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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 12

"I truly believe I love you Abigail." "I love you too, Phileas. Now, please tell me why my husband has you here as his guest?" I was silent for a moment, thinking furiously. Then I began to tell her a blatantly concocted tale designed the turn her against Sir Baring and grant me leeway to her daughter Nicole. Knowing that the best of lies are as truthful as possible, I began thusly: "Dearest Abigail, your husband is a very wealthy man. I myself am not poor, but he has it within his...

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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 14

Of course, Nicole confided in her sister Rhonda, and before I knew it the younger sister was badgering me, "to do her like I did, Nicole." In order to accomplish this second seduction I had to obtain Nicole's permission. There were two reasons for this, and I know, dear reader that it was my assignment to seduce both daughters, but this was necessary to ensure the girls kept quiet and that no petty jealousy crept in and exposed us to either parent. For I was as certain as there is no...

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