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in here pronto," "You hollered sir?" he replied. "Give our Bob a hand to spread wench’s legs so we can see if she’s pure," I commanded. "Indeed sir," he replied and the daft bugger grabbed Lady Rochester and started to push her to the ground. "Not the old trout the kid," I shouted, "Bugger me what do you use for brains?" "How dare you!" Lady Rochester snarled, her breasts heaving and her face red with anger. Next thing Carstairs had Miss Rochester lofted and neatly laid on the chaise longue, that's like a posh settee thing. "Ohhh the indignity," she protested, but her eyes were rivetted on our Bob’s cock. Like most folk back then she never wore no knickers, well they can’t pull em up with all them layers of skirts and that so it