Tease, Taunt, and Flicker round the Orgy

Isabo, Lady Canterly, sat in the banquet room of her new castle amongst her merry band of servants. Her nostrils flared, and she sniffed with pique. Though her servants were gathered round enjoying their lusty after-dinner pursuits, she could not quite abandon herself to her own lusty ache. She was angry that her man Thomas had chosen a cowardly exit, presumptuously dragging her sweet-natured, round-bottomed, pert-breasted, quick-tongued, soft-lipped maidservant Elizabeth with him so much as a by-your-leave. Despite the lingering memory of her intense ghostly tryst -- surely a dream! -- it was her familiar, loyal staff she wanted around her in this drafty old heap of stones. All of them! She'd have them all at once if she could.

But Lady Canterly's staff had gotten a bit ahead of her.

Beside Isabo, blonde serving girl Greta lay on the table, her skirts up and her knees back, stableman Michael tongue-lashing her bright red, burning hot cunt. Almost literally burning. Isabo had felt Greta's interior heat on her tongue and fingers many a time. She smiled at the stableman. How hard she'd worked to train the poor fellow's tongue. Michael moaned and shuddered. Isabo looked down and put her hand on the cheek of the cleaning girl sucking on Michael's cock. "Wait, Meighann," she said as she checked the young woman's abandoned performance. "Let Michael bring Greta to her fulfillment first."

Meighann released Michael's cock. "Yes, ah, yes'm," she said, breathing heavily. She sketched as close to a curtsey as a kneeling young woman with an open bodice could do. Meighann's color was high, a pink flush tinting nose, cheeks, ears and chest halfway down the top of her exposed breasts. Her chest heaved as she panted.

A cool draft blew through the banquet room. The candles flickered and burned an eerie blue. Lady Canterly's servants paid it no mind. Isabo herself looked left and right for any evidence of ghostly activity. She shivered at the touch of the cool air, tingling inside, craving fullness, craving her own fulfillment.

Beside her there was a muffled grunt from Michael. Isabo looked down to see his eyes wide and his mouth gaping in a wide circle. His cheeks bulged, and she could see a ripple moving back and forth in his cheek flesh. He gagged and stepped back from the table, coughing and panting to regain his breath, the **** seemingly over. Isabo heard low laughter in her ear and snatched out with both hands to catch nothing but air.

Greta cried out, "Ah-uhhhh!" and her hips undulated. Isabo saw Greta's hot red inner lips parted by an unseen ****. Her pussy entrance stretched into a big O like Michael's mouth. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and called "Yes! Yes! Yes!" as an unseen shape pressed itself down into her soft blonde pussy curls, flattened her mound of Venus, and squished down on her swollen pussy lips. In no time, Greta found herself squeezing down on the unseen invader, and she rose into an orgasm that struck her like a thunderbolt. She squealed as the jolts of sensation spread her hot lusty core in little earthquakes to the tips of her toes.

Again Isabo snatched out with her hands, but felt only a tingle in the air. She yelped at the sudden feel of teeth nipping her ear. One hand slapped down hard on Greta's pussy, and the other on her mound. "Ah!" the serving girl cried. "Oh ma'am," she breathed. "Oh, that was so wonderfully big in me ma'am, was that your hand inside me?"

No longer feeling the unseen presence, Isabo patted Greta's pussy and blonde-furred mound and smiled at her. She scanned the room for signs of her ghostly visitor, but all she could see was her servants and staff pleasuring one another.

The cook finished his licking of the head maid's ass with a tender kiss. "As pretty to the taste as to the gaze, Riette," he said. He rubbed his cock against the soft, smooth magnolia skin of Riette's butt. "John Thomas is eager to visit where his ambassador has prepared the way."

"John Thomas, he is a great lord, and must come through the front door even if Lady Isabo has him enter in la derrière," Riette said. "But perhaps he has un p'tit servant who can attend at the back door, gentle as m'sieur l'ambassador de la langue suave. Peut-être il me donne une baisse d'huile entre mes fesses."

"John Thomas is a man of upstanding honor, Riette, and it will be just so," said the cook. "I'll get you a drop of olive oil right here."

Nearby, Isabo watched as Joshua, her youngest servant, fucked her house steward Stephen up the ass. Stephen's own respectable member plowed the deep, wet lips of Isabo's third attendant Anne who was beneath him, skirts raised and legs wide.

"Ah...ah...Stephen, sir, do I have the right of it?" Joshua asked as his slim young prick slid in and out of the muscular steward's tight rear hole.

Stephen coughed. "Ah!" he said. "You have the right of it, by St. George. You've got me hard as iron with your prick up my back. If you keep your young man's looks, you have a future attending the House of Lords."

Anne laughed. "Yes Joshua, you can serve your lord on his wedding night, so he can get it up for his pudding-faced, insipid, frigid wife!" Stephen lunged forward with a deep stroke, pulling Anne's hair. "Ah yes!" she cried. "I like how you are with a cock up your arse! Stab him deep, Joshua, show him no mercy!"

"Aaargh!" the steward growled as young Joshua's prick skewered him deeply. Anne pulled his head down and muffled his sounds with her lips.

Isabo's attendants Trista and Leonata were lying mouth to pussy and shivering with the waves of pleasure their tongues were giving each other. Nothing was said, but Isabo clearly heard the wet kissing and smacking and little "ooh!" and "ah" sounds they were making. Trista un-socketed a candle and blew it out. An eerie flicker ran through every flame in the room, but none of the servants noticed. Even Isabo let it pass, forgetting Michael and Greta's ghostly visitation as she watched wet tongues slicking in and out of lovely wet lady-lips. Slim blonde Trista took the candle and teased buxom brunette Leonata with its still-warm end.

Still other servants were watching, rubbing themselves or each other under their clothes, whispering in each others' ears, or nibbling the last remains of the sweets.

All this lusty indulgence was too much for Isabo. She needed attention now. All those lovely pricks, those juicy pussies, those pert nipples, those prim assholes. And her, the lady of the manor with all her holes open, her fingers and toes unoccupied. She stood up and threw off her dress. She clapped her hand loudly and said, "Servants, attend me!"