She is overwhelmed

Dear Sir Williard,

Dinner tonight consisted of Asparagus cream soup, some kind of flaky whitefish in a hollandaise sauce, roast chicken with herbed potato balls, followed by a tray of assorted pastries and tea. The food was delicious, and I congratulated myself on finding such a skilled cook in this distant colony; the only thing that my dinner lacked, my Lord, were dinner companions. Once again I ate by myself with Andrews standing behind my chair as I sampled dish after dish. In one week's time, the first month's disbursement will be deposited in my account and I will be able to purchase the various accoutrement and sundry needed in order to invite guests to share my table...

Enough of that. Rereading the last entry in this chain letter, I see I left off in a most delicate spot. The medical chart I recorded for Miss Alice merely noted: (Hym. int.) Sir Williard, but I must report that in addition to the condition of her maidenly membrane I made several other less professional observations.

Firstly, the petals of this lovely young debutant were glistening with a fine sheen and were so delicately fluted that when I breathed on her labia they fluttered like fine silk in the breeze. Even more notable in my mind at the time was the scent of her sex: it filled my nose with its full-bodied bouquet, fresh and clean without the spicy-notes I remember from Saminya, or the earthy aroma of Hilda. (Akima, interestingly has little if any scent other than the jasmine soap she uses in her ablutions) Finally, and you can see for yourself My Lord just how far I have fallen from the idealistic heights I espoused when I first arrived on this planet, I can report that the nectar that covered my patient's nether lips was the sweetest most intoxicating of all spirits. I am still surprised by how skilled I have become at the manipulation of the female genetalia under the tutelage of Akima, my Nipponese servant trained in the Eastern arts of sensual pleasures. Servicing the various matrons who frequent Dr. Miller's clinic has given me an opportunity to fine-tune what I've learned: I now know more about the sensitive anatomy of a woman's sex than everything I knew when I first arrived at this peculiar outpost of the British Empire.

The manipulation of her sex was made particularly easy because of how extremely sensitive I found the sweet and unspoiled the flesh of Miss Alice. Perhaps it is her youth, or because as a maid, she was unaccustomed to a man's touch, maybe it had more to do with her Blush inspired fantasies, but for whatever reason this young woman was bucking and writhing on the examination table like no other. I find to my chagrin, that I cannot even feel remorse for my actions, Sir Williard. Even now as I recall the five minutes or so gently fingering and tonguing Miss Alice's vagina I find my manhood noticeably thickening. Twice in this five minute period I brought Miss Alice to a climax, each time I was convinced that Dr. Miller or one of his nurses would come bursting through the door upon hearing the poor girl's screams. Thankfully, the walls and doors of Dr. Miller's clinics are more soundproof than I could imagine and the liberties I took with Miss Alice went undetected. There is something profoundly satisfying about making an otherwise upstanding Englishwoman like Miss Alice lose her mind in passion, but I was not unaffected by the sexual nature of this intimate exploration.

By the time I climbed to my feet, wiping her juices from my chin, my erection was bobbing in excitement and the sight of the poor woman on her back with her feet lashed into the raised stirrups made me ache with need. What occurred next in that private examination rom will haunt me for the rest of my days -