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Four years later, Mrs. Lucinda Grey had five young men living in her mansion; all eighteen or nineteen. They had the one thing in common that she insisted upon.

Marcus Grey left. Mrs. Hermione Louise Allsop hired a private tutor who prepared him for college. She paid for his education, but insisted that he attend a nearby university and stay in her mansion.

Every day, she helped him relax from the rigors of studying and attending class. She helped him relax while on her knees. Not some days, every day; and usually more than once a day.

She never suggesting fucking again. Marcus didn’t bring it up. He’d come home, undress, wash, and sit on the edge of his bed. “Mrs. Allsop, I’m ready for you.”

By the time she arrived, he was mostly hard. Hermione did the rest.

Late at night, she insisted on doing him again. “It’ll help you sleep,” she smiled.

Saturday mornings, she woke him up early, and there were two sometimes three blowjobs. Neither of them seemed to get bored with the arrangement. Every time her cunny gushed and her knickers needed to be wrung out. Mrs. Allsop didn’t know it, but that gushing and the feelings she had when she was greedily sucking his cock, were orgasms.

Every time, just anticipating what Mrs. Allsop was going to do, had his cock erect.

Meanwhile Mrs. Grey was busy making arrangements for the five young men living under her roof.

Harry still had a standing date with Mabel Grant Conover twice a week. He arrived mid-morning, and Mabel demanded he fuck her three, sometimes four times. She exhausted him; Big Tom had to wake him up when her carriage arrived back at the Grey mansion.

Early on, Mrs. Conover would get on her back and he would mount her. As time went on, she got her hands on one of those “how to please your husband for new brides” pamphlets and suggested they try them all.

Although after more than sixteen pregnancies, her breasts were by today’s standards, ugly slabs of stretched fat, Harry had fun with them, and both agreed that with Mabel on top bouncing and satisfying her itch was the very best way to fuck. Her wide open, still juicy cunny easily accepted Harry’s mammoth manhood. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” she sighed as she slid up and down on it.

The other boys: James, Martin, Lincoln and Zachary weren’t the exclusive ‘dates’ of just one woman.

Although, Mabel Grant Conover and Hermione Louise Allsop were sophisticated, classy ladies, they couldn’t help but share their good fortune in private alcohol-fueled conversations with other members of their tea party group. You might call it bragging.

“I wish I could have a young man like that.” Mrs. Daisy Trowbridge complained. “Mr. Trowbridge’s manhood hasn’t worked in eight or nine years.”

Mrs. Conover leaned forward and whispered, “see Lucinda, she may be able to help you out, but as you know, there’s nothing free in this world.”

“I will, and you say this young man of yours is how big?”

Not three days later, unannounced Mrs. Trowbridge knocked on the door of Lucinda Grey’s mansion. “I’m sorry for intruding like this, Lucinda, but Hermione told me that you might help me with a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Lucinda Grey knew but was going to make Daisy Trowbridge say it out loud.

“I’m so ashamed to say this and I hate embarrassing my husband, but Lucinda, he can’t, and hasn’t been able to in ages,” said the

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