LORD BRAMBLE'S REHABILITATION Read Online Free Page B
Author: Damon Peters
her lips about him to begin avidly sucking on it.
He didn't last long - she hadn't expected him to. She felt it coming a moment before the eruption began; a sudden swelling of his cock, a tightening of his balls. Then his sperm was shooting vigorously into her waiting mouth, one fierce eruption followed by another and another, each less forceful than the last, until her fingers were needed to press beneath his ball sack and have the final pulse of semen fill her mouth for swallowing.
She rose off his softening cock and grinned as she let him watch her throat work, swallowing his seed a bit at a time, opening her mouth to reveal the last of it on her tongue before she swallowed that too.
"Was that good?" she asked.
He was breathless and, for once, his face still, his facial muscles relaxed. He groaned and nodded. Penny smiled and put him away. "Good boy," she told him. "Tonight we'll do it again, and perhaps a little more," she grinned. She so enjoyed teasing her patients.
CHAPTER THREE. A calming stroke.
"How long to repair the car?" Isabel asked that evening as they settled down to dinner, Penny seated beside Lord Bramble to help him eat, a hand placed surreptitiously below the large napkin on his lap to give him complementary squeezes when he managed to do more than slurp on his soup.
The girl was her usual ill-manned and haughty self, visibly shocked when Debora was served before her.
"What she doing at the table? Surely she's a nurse, a member of staff!" she cried angrily. "And why dismiss Nurse Howard. She was doing perfectly fine!"
"Not by my standards she wasn't," John answered. "And Debora is Lord Bramble's guest, hence seated at the table," he told her patiently.
Isabel pouted, clearly put out by the turn of events. "What about the car?" she asked curtly.
"Very badly damaged. The parts alone will take over a week to arrive, and then some days to fit," John told her, tucking into his own soup and turning to ask the serving-maid to tell the cook how lovely it was. "I know of a private hospital who could use someone of her talents," he joked, smiling towards Debora.
"A week!" Isabel cried. "I can't be without a car for over a week!" she complained. "Daddy, tell him will you. I need a car!" she cried angrily, her father ignoring her to gaze like a love sick dog into his nurse's grinning face.
"Even if we had a vehicle, which we don't, you would not be permitted to drive it. Not until you prove yourself capable," John told her.
"Pardon!" Isabel all but screamed, staring at the man in hate. "How dare you!" she cried.
John shrugged. "I have your father's authority. When the car is repaired I'll arrange for a gentleman to review your driving skills and see that they're sufficient for this day and age," he told her, calmly eating his soup while the maids' standing against the walls waiting for them to finish kept their faces lowered, pretending they weren't there.
"Yes? Really! And who is this gentleman who'll review my driving?" she wondered, thinking it might be someone she knew and would, therefore, automatically pass her as competent.
"Mr Saul Thompson," John told her.
Isabel frowned, trying to recollect where she'd heard the name before. "Don't know him," she decided at last. "Who is he? What makes him so clever?" she asked disgustedly.
John finished his soup and smiled pleasantly at the maid as she took his plate away. "Saul is the owner of one steam tractor, recently in a collision with some stupid young girl who didn't seem to know her foot brake from her accelerator," he told her.
"Oh. Him," she spat. "He was an oaf! He should have seen me coming and made room. You won't get away with this you know. Just you wait until my lawyer completes his inquiries!" she told him angrily.
"Oh yes," John nodded, and took the envelope that had arrived that morning from his pocket.
"You've opened it!" she squealed, and pulled out the single sheet of paper to quickly scan the lawyer's response. She screwed the
He didn't last long - she hadn't expected him to. She felt it coming a moment before the eruption began; a sudden swelling of his cock, a tightening of his balls. Then his sperm was shooting vigorously into her waiting mouth, one fierce eruption followed by another and another, each less forceful than the last, until her fingers were needed to press beneath his ball sack and have the final pulse of semen fill her mouth for swallowing.
She rose off his softening cock and grinned as she let him watch her throat work, swallowing his seed a bit at a time, opening her mouth to reveal the last of it on her tongue before she swallowed that too.
"Was that good?" she asked.
He was breathless and, for once, his face still, his facial muscles relaxed. He groaned and nodded. Penny smiled and put him away. "Good boy," she told him. "Tonight we'll do it again, and perhaps a little more," she grinned. She so enjoyed teasing her patients.
CHAPTER THREE. A calming stroke.
"How long to repair the car?" Isabel asked that evening as they settled down to dinner, Penny seated beside Lord Bramble to help him eat, a hand placed surreptitiously below the large napkin on his lap to give him complementary squeezes when he managed to do more than slurp on his soup.
The girl was her usual ill-manned and haughty self, visibly shocked when Debora was served before her.
"What she doing at the table? Surely she's a nurse, a member of staff!" she cried angrily. "And why dismiss Nurse Howard. She was doing perfectly fine!"
"Not by my standards she wasn't," John answered. "And Debora is Lord Bramble's guest, hence seated at the table," he told her patiently.
Isabel pouted, clearly put out by the turn of events. "What about the car?" she asked curtly.
"Very badly damaged. The parts alone will take over a week to arrive, and then some days to fit," John told her, tucking into his own soup and turning to ask the serving-maid to tell the cook how lovely it was. "I know of a private hospital who could use someone of her talents," he joked, smiling towards Debora.
"A week!" Isabel cried. "I can't be without a car for over a week!" she complained. "Daddy, tell him will you. I need a car!" she cried angrily, her father ignoring her to gaze like a love sick dog into his nurse's grinning face.
"Even if we had a vehicle, which we don't, you would not be permitted to drive it. Not until you prove yourself capable," John told her.
"Pardon!" Isabel all but screamed, staring at the man in hate. "How dare you!" she cried.
John shrugged. "I have your father's authority. When the car is repaired I'll arrange for a gentleman to review your driving skills and see that they're sufficient for this day and age," he told her, calmly eating his soup while the maids' standing against the walls waiting for them to finish kept their faces lowered, pretending they weren't there.
"Yes? Really! And who is this gentleman who'll review my driving?" she wondered, thinking it might be someone she knew and would, therefore, automatically pass her as competent.
"Mr Saul Thompson," John told her.
Isabel frowned, trying to recollect where she'd heard the name before. "Don't know him," she decided at last. "Who is he? What makes him so clever?" she asked disgustedly.
John finished his soup and smiled pleasantly at the maid as she took his plate away. "Saul is the owner of one steam tractor, recently in a collision with some stupid young girl who didn't seem to know her foot brake from her accelerator," he told her.
"Oh. Him," she spat. "He was an oaf! He should have seen me coming and made room. You won't get away with this you know. Just you wait until my lawyer completes his inquiries!" she told him angrily.
"Oh yes," John nodded, and took the envelope that had arrived that morning from his pocket.
"You've opened it!" she squealed, and pulled out the single sheet of paper to quickly scan the lawyer's response. She screwed the
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