She peeks through the crack

Christine knew that she should respect the couple's privacy, but when she heard the Verderer say her name, she couldn't just lie there and not know what was happening. The largest crack in the plaster was big enough that when she placed her cheek against the wall, she was able to see the Verderer's wife wearing a lacy white nightgown kneeling on their great bed.

"Oh please, Mister," The Verderer's wife pitched her voice higher and sweeter. "I don't think I can do this. I'm saving myself for my wedding bed." Christine watched the pair with growing excitement; that could have been her waiting on the bed protesting nervously. The Verderer ignored Marielle's objections and climbed onto the bed touching his wife's face tenderly.

"We'll only go as far as you're ready to, little bird." Werner's cajoling was enough to make Christine squirm and clench her thighs together. She watched the Verderer turn his attention to his wife's full breasts, cupping and squeezing the plump mounds with obvious delight. Compared to Marielle's ample bosom, Christine's small firm breasts seemed almost girl-like. She pinched the erect nipples through the rough material of the old shirt sending waves of pleasure shooting from her nipples to her sex. Judging by the loud moans coming from through the cracks in the plaster, Marielle must be similarly enjoying her husband's attention.

Oh, Lord in Heaven! A sudden thought made her blush fiercely. If she had allowed the Verderer to follow her up the stairs, his wife would have heard her half-hearted attempts to discourage Master Werner as he pulled her nightshirt off. Almost as if Marielle knew what she was thinking, she pushed playfully at the man's powerful hands as he touched her.

"Oooh!?! Master Werner," Marielle's mock protests continued along with her moans of delight. "I've never had a man's hands touch me like this." Just as Christine knew he would, the Verderer ignored the words and lifted the nightgown the rest of the way off. His hands roamed from full breasts down over the soft curve of her belly and then pulled open her knees exposing Marielle's sex in the lamplight of their bedroom.

"And do you like this, Evelyn?" Watching the Verderer pretend that it was her small breasts and smooth thighs that he was squeezing made Christine gasp aloud, but luckily the pair were too engrossed in their game to notice. "How about this?" Warner kissed his way down her neck pausing to lick and suckle on the woman's tits before continuing on lower and lower on her body. The sight of the man nuzzling his head between the milky thighs brings on another wave of weakness, she couldn't believe that something this wicked was happening just on the other side of this cracked plaster.

"Oh, please - you can't. Not there - oh, oh, oh God that feels good." Christine's hand pushed to the most private of all places and she rubbed hard against her sex as she watched. "So good. This is wrong, but it feels so, so good!" In spite of herself, her fingers moved harder and faster than ever before. She could only imagine what it might be like to have Werner's strong fingers cupping her sex and fingering her as she moaned and pleaded. Thankfully before she lost control, Master Werner pulled away from his wife and pulled off his last remaining bit of clothing until he knelt there as naked as his wife.

From her position, Christine could see only the Verderer's backside not his manhood, but Marielle filled in the picture for her. "It's so big! That will never fit in me!" Once again, Marielle almost perfectly modeled Christine's fears. The size of the bulge she saw earlier in Master Werner's leggings seemed so much bigger than Bishop Anthryl's; her imagination ran wild as she tried to picture how long and thick his penis might be.

Christine pressed first one and then another finger inside the slick petals of her sex and braced herself against the wall as her hips bucked in excitement. When the bishop had penetrated her like this, she hated every minute of his probing fingers. Even the unwanted pleasurable sensations the cleric had evoked caused Christine more shame than excitement. But as she watched the Verderer, Christine could only imagine what it might feel like to have a man's throbbing organ **** its way into the tight passage. The difference between the licentious bishop's lustful groping and the how the handsome Verderer made her feel caused her to whimper softly in excitement.

"Don't worry, pretty Evelyn." The Verderer's soothing voice seemed directed at her through the thin layer of plaster, not his wife. "I know you're a tiny little thing, but men and women have been doing this very thing since Adam and Eve." Did he know she was listening? He must! Christine bit her lip hard between her teeth to keep from calling out as her fingers delved deeper into her sex and her hardened nipples scrapped across the rough lathe woodwork of the wall. She watched in wide-eyed excitement as the Verderer spread Marielle's legs even wider and lowered himself carefully between them. When he thrust his hips forward, Christine was ready and pushed her other two fingers in with the others.

"Aaiigh!" Marielle's simulation of her deflowering made the moment even more intense. "It hurts, Master Werner. It hurts, oh God, you're tearing me in two." The goodwife's feigned exclamations of pain strangely added to Christine's excitement. She could feel her fingers pressing against the elastic membrane that could only be her maidenhead. If they were just a little longer, she'd be able to feel the pain of what it would feel like to be claimed by a man. To have a man like the Verderer tear her maidenhead asunder and plough deep into her depths was what her petite body needed. As she bucked against her fingers, grinding her delicate flesh against the knuckles of her small hand, Christine knew that she wanted the Verderer to do to her exactly what he was pretending with his wife.

She watched the rocking bodies on the bed with wonder. This was unlike the rough groping of the outlaw in the forests and so different from Bishop Anthryl's crude fingering of her struggling form. Judging by the Bishop of Oldchester's hypocritical assessment of her wickedness, Christine could only imagine how that vile man would have delighted in violating her. As the springs on the great bed in the neighboring room squeaked even louder, Marielle's whimpers turned first to needy grunts, then gasps of wonder and finally cries of undisguised pleasure.

For all Bishop Anthryl's pride in his ability to manipulate her inexperienced body, Christine knew with absolute certainty that she had not come close to experiencing the rapturous pleasure of the Verderer's wife. More than ever, she regretted her decision not to join the Verderer and his wife on their bed. The good man had treated her with both respect and kindness and thinking about him evoked a fiery need in her loins. In her small dark room, Christine could feel the same buildup of emotions as her hostess and she knew that if she didn't ease off her wild gyrations, that she too would be screaming out in pleasure as she exploded.