Horace trembled violently. Slowly his hands rose and slid up the backs of her thighs. The sensation of first feeling her stockings above her knees and then tasting with his fingers the creamy, swelling flesh above almost made him faint. His nostrils twitched at the delicious aroma she exuded. Feeling her quiver at his touch, he tightened his grasp and with an avid hunger pressed his lips up to encounter the juiciness of Pamela's nether mouth.

“AH!” Pamela gasped. Horace's mouth was ravaging her. Indeed, she even felt his tongue glide up within her. It gave her a feeling the like of which she had never known. The jellied cheeks of her bottom trembled as his palms sought upwards to cup them. Her knees bent and she found herself surrendering to the feeling.

Horace licked. It was perfect bliss. The curls massed about her plump mount tickled his nose exquisitely. Delving his tongue upwards, he found by chance rather than skill the sensitive button which immediately erected itself like a tiny penis under his labial caresses. Half-swooning, Pamela jerked and gasped. Her bottom gyrated.

“Oh! Mr. R… R… Rumple!”

“My dear, oh my dear, let me examine you further on the couch. Move back.”

Quite dizzy with delight, Pamela obeyed. The edge of the seat caught the backs of her knees, and she fell back with a small cry that was quickly silenced by a gesture from Horace, who had risen and stood over her.

“We must be quiet, Pamela, and disturb no one. Raise your left leg and let it he along the back of the couch. Let your other leg dangle down to the carpet. I can then examine you better. I have the very instrument with which to do it.”

Pamela thereupon hid her face in her hands, for Horace was doing no less than unfastening his breeches which slid immediately to his ankles. His legs were brawny and muscular, but the biggest muscle presented itself to Pamela in the very moment that she incautiously spread her fingers to peep and Horace raised his shirt.