ME AND THE BIG CHESTED SERVING WENCH - A Short Story

i just got back from the northern countryside and its really beautiful up there.
there was something about the rolling green hills that brought out the poet in me and i found myself inspired, like so many before me, to write some erotic fiction.
and dont worry, this isnt like the harry potter thing. this is some nice, juicy man on chick action.
so go tell your mom she cant come into your room for the next couple of minutes because youre making her a present and enjoy:

ME AND THE BIG CHESTED SERVING WENCH
By Franklin Nigel Berry

As I dismounted from my horse carriage, I sniffed the air contemptuously.
“Is something amiss me lord?” snarled my handy man Jeeves.
I sniffed again, “No Jeeves, I simply always get contemptuous when I enter the Sainsbury Estate.”
“O’ar” said Jeeves, like one of those Redwall moles, and I nodded in most profound agreement. Ever since we had been young lords, I had hated Sainsbury. For every bit of decadence I could muster up, he always managed to outdo me.
If I showed up wearing boots made from the hide of an endangered animal, his were made from the last of its kind.
It made me sick.
And now I found myself once more at his annual birthday party. To think I would have to watch him eating his cake and ice cream. Well, this year there would be a special birthday surprise for the good Lord!
“Good morrow good sir!” I heard a familiar voice bellow. I looked towards the sound as my face became practically alight, it was my oldest friend Lord Wensleydale.
Lord Wensleydale clapped me on the back heartily exclaiming boisterously, “Imagine seeing you here! I could have sworn that last year was the last birthday party you’d be attending.”
“Would that it were,” I observed accurately, “but alas, I find myself here again. However, this year I have a special birthday surprise for the good Lord!”
“What ho!” said Wensleydale.
“Quite,” said I, “Tis rumored that in Sainsbury’s employment there is a young woman of profound breasts whom Sainsbury does much desire. Well, before I leave here I plan to totally do her.”
Lord Wensleydale guffawed in a manner most affable, “How philanderous of you!”
“Oh pishaw,” I quipped, blushing modestly. But he was right of course. If all went according to plan this would be the greatest bit of philandering ever seen at the Sainsbury Estate.

***

After dropping my gift (a jewel incrusted jewel holder) and card (some old cartoon lady saying “Happy Brithday, where’s the cake?” in which I had only signed my name) on the table with the others, I slinked away to find the girl I would have my way with.
I feared I would have to search long and hard for her, given how copious the Sainsbury Estate was, but after only a few minutes I happened across a girl scrubbing the everything.
Right away I noticed her breasts.
They were freaking huge!
I mean, I’m not sure what else I can say. . .
Maybe that they were like breast mountains with nipple snow caps, but that’s kinda gross.
“I say young lady,” I pre-inquired, “be you the most breasted of Sainsbury’s servants?”
“I reckon I be sir,” the girl reckoned.
“Very good. I’m a Lord here for Sainsbury’s party. We’re pretty tight I guess. So yeah, Sainsbury said if I wanted something to just ask one of the staff?”
“Aye sir.”
“Oh alright then, I want to do you.”
There was a pause. A pause made all the sexier by how enormous her breasts were.
“I imagine, sir, that when the good Lord said ‘something’ he meant like a sandwich.”
“No, he was quite explicit that it was simply ‘something’, so anything from juggling to skinning yourself alive and so that I might wear you as a coat. Count yourself lucky all I want is nooky.”
After a few more seconds of silence, she turned and started to walk away. I bit my lip and realized I would have to take drastic measures.
“If you will do the deed,” I declared boldly, “I’ll give thee a shiny new tuppence.”
She stopped and turned around. I smiled at the gleam that had come into her eye.
No serving wench could resist the promise of her very own tuppence!

***

With no time to spare before Sainsbury would begin opening his presents, we ducked into the relative privacy of the scullery shack.
“Alright,” I said, loosening my petticoat, “you may begin to sex me.”
As she took off her shirt, I let out a brief high-pitched scream. Perhaps my decision had been rash. Seeing them unleased I realized these were not the kind of breasts you would want to meet in a dark alley.
However, it was too late.
Already they had begun to spin about like whirly gigs. I braced myself for the impact but when they connected with my head I still flew across the room like a rag doll thrown by a petulant child.
No sooner had I righted myself then WHAM! they connected again and I once more went down.
“Will that be all me Lord?” she queried, her breasts slowing down.
“Last time I checked, a tuppence got you a lot more then that!”
She sighed and her breasts started up again, moving so fast now you could barely tell they were there. Only the whistle they made as they cascaded through the air alerted one to their presence.

***

I emerged from the cupboard, badly bruised and bloody, but very satisfied.
What fine love making it had been!
I turned as she too emerged. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” I questioned. She rolled her eyes and sighed as if to say, “Hell yeah it was.”
I smiled as I watched her go. She would most assuredly tell all the other serving whores, “I hit that.” They, of course, would all laugh and dismiss her claims saying, “She’s been at her plague salts again!” But Lord Sainsbury would hear and he would blush and curse my name, knowing that in truth she had hit - OH!
Oh crap, Lord Sainsbury was standing right behind me and I just turned around and he was just right in my face.
Oh man.
That scared the crap out of me.
I quickly regained my composure and wallowed, silently of course, in the shocked look on Sainsbury’s face. “Why my dear Sainsbury,” I said, “you quite nearly scared the crap out of me. You should never silently creep up behind a man who’s just stuck it to one of your serving girls!”
Oh my god, you should have seen the look on his face.
He was totally about to cry.
Lip trembling he stammered, “You slept with her?”
Smoothly I reached up and wiped the blood away from the corner of my mouth.
“I believe you will find we did everything but!”
“Oh,” said the crest fallen Sainsbury, “How was it?”
“It was pretty intense. You probably couldn’t have handled it. Oh, and by the way, happy birthday bitch!”
With that I grabbed Sainsbury roughly and pulled him in for a deep, mean spirited kiss. He resisted, of course, as my tongue slid into his like an adder chasing a fat mouse, but I held him tight as he slowly but steadily got totally into it.
What a fine birthday it proved to be!

okay, it got a little gay there at the end, but things were different back then.

originally posted: Tuesday, July 11, 2006