The 69 Nymphs

Some very determined men had a secret they wanted kept at any cost. Sturdy Englishwoman Ann Paget wanted no part of it—but couldn't help herself.

(FF, MF, nc)

By: Punchinello for Pulp Erotica

Welsh countryside, 1935

As the train pulled into Glwythdilog station, Ann Paget slipped off and ducked into the station. She dodged her pursuers and ducked around a corner. There, just across the green, was a little country inn, fairly glowing with friendly lights. The soft sound of a music hall melody wafted across to her where she cowered in the shadows.

Throwing a wary glance over her shoulder, the raven-haired beauty picked up her skirt and dashed across the quiet green toward the inn, one hand on her breasts to try to keep them from heaving so much under her blouse. At the doorway, she paused to peer back thru the gloom, trying to see if her pursuers had noticed her escape.

There, emerging from the shadows of the station and into the pale lamplight of the platform were two broad-shouldered men in trench coats and derbies. Surely they couldn't see her, Ann reasoned, yet they seemed to be staring into her mortal soul. Indeed, in a moment, they started toward the inn.

Ann gasped in a terrified panic and rushed inside. There, she threw herself back against the door and stared about her at the inn's patrons and staff. The music had come to a crashing halt, the musicians and singers frozen in mid-harmony.

Ann took a deep breath and smoothed her jet-black hair. "It's quite threatening to unleash a downpour," she said with false detachment.

"I say! Is it?" asked one startled gentlemen near the piano.

Ann strode gracefully across the room, past the front desk, trying desperately to contain the fear welling up insider her. She slipped out of her coat as she went and pulled her hat off, hoping against hope that if the men came in, she would blend in with the other patrons. Then, as she reached the foot of the stairs to the rooms above, Ann went quickly up into the relief of the shadows.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she turned back to find the door of the inn opening. Panic struck again, and Ann rushed down the hall, nearly colliding with a striking girl with flowing blond hair.

"Oh, my! I'm so sorry, miss!" the little blond gushed, putting her hand to the front of her pink cotton pajamas. She had just come out of the loo at the end of the corridor. She wore rather posh pajamas and clutched a toothbrush and tin of tooth polish in one hand.

"You must to help me! Oh, you absolutely must!" Ann whimpered.

"My goodness! What is it, dear? Oh, you're shaking like a leaf!" The girl put her arm around Ann to comfort her.

"Two men are after me!" the panicked brunette gushed, wringing her hat in her hands.

The slender blond patted her gently. "Oh my! What for?"

"They think I have a list of some kind that belongs them."

They went to the top of the stair and peeked around the corner. "Oh! There they are!" the blond girl exclaimed. "My word, what brutes!"

The two young women could see them now, the rough-looking men who had pursued Ann on the train, as they came up the stairs. "We can't go back without the list," one said in a rough London voice.

"If she goes to the coppers about the sixty-nine nymphs, we're all done for—the whole operation," said the other in a rough accent from the north of England.

"Oh, please hide me. You must hide me," Ann pleaded. "I'm half out of my wits."

The blond girl turned away and ushered Ann into her room, saying, "Go into my room, quickly!" She closed the door behind them and turned the lock. "Stay quiet, darling. They're coming this way." Ann dropped her coat and hat on the chair next to the door as the girl grasped her arm again. They both sank to the floor in front of the door, trying in vain to peep thru the keyhole or the past the crack in the door, but there was no way to see out.

The two women huddled together in the dim room, crouched against the door, as if their slender bodies could hope to hold back an onslaught from the two hulking goons who prowled the corridor beyond. They listened intently at the heavy footsteps approaching. Ann could feel the girl's heart pounding against her chest and knew her young protector could feel it too.

"It's a heavy door," the pretty girl whispered.

Ann couldn't help but marvel for a moment at the striking beauty of the strange girl who held her so close. She gazed on the pink fullness of her clean, unpainted lips and the wide wonder of her bright eyes with their long, pale lashes. The girl, perhaps all of twenty or so—five years younger than Ann—gazed back with sympathy and support and patted her hand reassuringly. Ann looked away, nibbling her lip anxiously, but only found herself staring down upon the little swell of pale breast showing inside the girl's loose pajama top, and then down further at her slender bare feet, with their long toes with the nails painted pink.

"They've stopped," Ann breathed, hardly more than mouthing the words.

The girl pulled Ann very close to whisper right in her ear. "They're listening." Ann whimpered. Their breasts brushed together; Ann's were much bigger, but the blond was a frail little thing.

A hand tried the doorknob. The brunette and the young blond woman clung to each other, stranger to stranger, in stark terror, their hearts pounding in their chests like kettle drums. The lock held, and the thugs didn't try to put a shoulder to the door. But neither did footsteps indicate their leaving. "What's your name?" the little blond whispered.

"Ann," replied the dark-haired woman.

"Ann, I have an idea," the girl whispered. They pressed very close again, like lovers whispering sweet nothings. "We'll pretend we're just married."

"What? The two of us?" Ann puzzled.

"They shan't think you've hidden in a room with an amorous couple, now shall they?"

Ann pondered for a moment. It was a good plan. "Who shall be the man, then?"

"You do it," the girl suggested. "I'm quite a schoolgirl when it comes to play-acting."

"All right, then," Ann agreed. She was quite dazzled by the blond's good looks. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of her feelings.

"Oh Ronald!" the girl cried suddenly. And she threw her arms around Ann and kissed her noisily on the cheek and neck. "Oh! Take me in your arms!"

Ann didn't know how to react at first. She took a deep breath and put on a deep, manly voice. "Oh—" she began. But she suddenly realized that she didn't know the girl's name. "—darling!" she finished.

"Myra!" the girl whispered.

"Oh!" said Ann. And, "Oh!" again when Myra pinched her bottom.

"Kiss me, darling!" Myra cried. And she pulled Ann to her. Ann kissed the girl softly on the throat and the side of her neck under her ear where tiny blond hairs covered soft, warm flesh. The feeling made the blood rush to her head. "Oh yes!" Myra said. Then her voice fell, "Louder! It won't do if they can't hear us!"

"Oh!" said Ann in her gruff voice. "My darling Myra!" And she kissed the girl hotly and loudly on the cheek and ear.

Myra responded eagerly. "Oh Ronald! I'm breathless, darling! Take me now!"

"Shall we go to the bed?" Ann asked quietly, holding her thin girl loosely in her arms. "They'll know it if we aren't crying out from the bed."

"Oh!" Myra called in a girlish moan. "Yes! Throw me down on the bed, Ronald! Do it! Use me roughly!"

"Really?" Ann quizzed, rising.

Myra leaped onto the bed and fell back with open arms. "Come to me, darling! Make love to me at last!" She was singularly enticing in her loose pajamas, barely concealing her little bosoms, her flushed skin.

Ann suddenly knew the pang of desire men felt for beautiful women. She wondered if the men she had known has ached for her in the same way. "My God, you're beautiful!" she declared in her manly tone.

"Take off your things, darling," Myra urged. "Toss them on the floor!" Ann froze, unable to know what to do. "Your shoes!" Myra hissed. "Toss them off quick, sweetheart!" Obediently, Ann slipped off her shoes and dropped them with a thud on the floor by the bed. Then she stood by, gazing this way and that, entirely unsure again. Did the girl mean for her to strip off? "Make llllove to me!" Myra squealed, and pulled Ann onto the bed.

"Goodness!" gasped Ann.

"Oh Ronald! I love you," Myra fairly shouted. "I love you with all my heart! Now have my body as well!" And she pressed hot kisses all over Ann's neck, face, and mouth. Her kisses seemed sincere—they certainly heated Ann's blood.

"Oh, Myra! I've— I've dreamed of this!" Ann gushed huskily. She pawed at the beautiful blond, taking her fully in her arms.

"Oh Ronald!" the girl cried. "Take me now! I must have it! I must! Oh, how your mustache tickles, darling!" The two young women giggled and groped each other. Myra's slim body was a like a cat's: taut and athletic. It quickened Ann's pulse in a way she hadn't imagined possible before. Myra's hands grasped Ann's round bottom. "Ooh," she cooed softly.

"Goodness!" Ann gasped. secret decoder

"Take off these clothes, darling!" Myra demanded, pushing Ann's clothes off her, opening her blouse. "Oh my," she murmured, feeling Ann's curvaceous form. "You're quite bosomy!"

"Oh darling!" Ann said. "I want to feel you against me!" It was true. Ann was lusty for the girl. She had never known such desperate desire—and certainly not for another woman! In a moment, her skirt and slip lay on the floor with her blouse. She lay atop the pretty blond Myra in a sudden heat. Their kisses became hot kisses of passion, falling on eager lips and tasting equal eagerness. Myra's pajama top fell open, revealing her beautiful breasts, with pink, point nipples.

"Oh, my sweet Myra; you're beautiful."

"Don't stop now, darling. Kiss my bosoms," the girl begged. "You're driving me mad!" Ann did, kissing and licking, even suckling the soft pink buds. Myra swooned with the pleasure, unable now to unclasp the brassiere that bound Ann's fuller breasts. But Ann unsnapped her brassiere herself and slipped out of it in a moment, even as she continued to fondle and tease Myra.

"Oh, they're beautiful!" Myra breathed. "Let me hold them!" She weighed Ann's big tits in her hand, brushing the nipples with her thumbs. "Wonderful!" she gushed.

They kissed again, pressing their naked bosoms together, reveling in the pleasure of their naked flesh. But they weren't fully naked yet. Ann still wore her stockings and knickers and Myra her pajama bottoms. Ann slid down the length of Myra's slender body, kissing her way down her breasts, her nipples, her flat belly, to the waistband of her pajama. She glanced up at the young girl for a moment before biting lightly at the drawstring and pulling it loose.

Myra gave a sighing moan and fell back in a swoon as Ann pulled her pajama down over her girlish curves, following closely with her pink tongue. "Oh, Donald!" the girl groaned.

Ann pulled the pajama down further, revealing Myra's golden thatch of cunny. "No knickers! You wicked girl!" Ann murmured.

"Kiss me, darling," the little blond pleaded, not daring to say out loud where it was she wanted to be kissed.

Ann continued pushing the fabric out of the way even as she planted hot kisses on the newly-bared flesh, licking the pink slit, tasting its juices. "Yes! Yes! God! Darling, give me a proper rogering!" the girl begged.

"Take this, my sweet," Ann said in a husky growl, and slipped on long finger inside Myra's tight, wet love-hole.

"Ooh!" the blond cooed. "Oh, my!" Ann followed the golden rule and did only what she knew she would like done to herself—licking and sucking, tonguing and fingering. She rubbed the juicy pink slit with two fingers and sucked it like a peach.

"Oh! Oh! Yes! Oh, darling! More! Please, more!" Myra thrashed about on the bed, moaning loudly and incomprehensibly. "Mmmm! Unh! Unh! OH!"

Ann teased Myra's little button with her tongue, making the girl gasp again and again. "Uh! Uh! Oh! OH YES! YES! THERE! JUST THERE!" the little blond squealed. "Bring me to crisis! Bring me to crisis! OH, DARLING! YES!" And with that she fell back into nonsensical gasping and moaning, exhausting her petite form completely.

Ann propped herself up on her elbows and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I've never done that before!" the raven-haired beauty sighed. "Quite an experience, darling!"

"Quite!" the Myra agreed. "I never imagined you would lick it! It was fantastic!"

"It was heaven for me too, darling. Oh," the brunette said, looking down again, "I'm afraid I've got lipstick on your pussy!"

"Oh my goodness!" Myra squealed, covering her pink quim.

Ann crawled up to kiss Myra softly on the lips. Their tongues tested and tasted each other gently. The two girls looked into each other's eyes, Ann's a dark pair of deep pools, Myra's a clear pair of crystal goblets. "Now you?" the little blond asked.

"Indeed!" Ann agreed. They kissed and embraced hotly and rolled over in the bed so that Myra was on top.

Myra pulled at the flimsy fabric of Ann's silk knickers. She pulled it down over Ann's round behind and down her pale thighs. In a moment, Ann's trim black bush was revealed to her pretty lover. "Marvelous," the girl said breathlessly. She ran her hands up and down Ann's silk-stockinged legs as she slid down her body, kissing her large breasts, her belly, and finally her musky Venus mound.

"Oh, God, Myra, darling," Ann groaned. "Oh darling, please do! Please!" Myra did indeed. She slipped her tongue between the lips of the brunette beauty's pussy and tasted the warm, wet sex that waited there for her. Ann gasped desperately and groaned again. "Suck it, darling! Oh please suck it!"

Myra licked and kissed the pouting lips, spread her lover's quim, and dived in deep with a wet tongue and probing fingers. "Mmmmm, yes," Ann groaned, biting her lip. "Oh, yes, yes, yes, Myra darling. That's it." She ran her fingers thru the hair of the girl eating her wet pussy.

Myra teased Ann's red hot button, driving her to distraction with gasping and moaning. "Oh, sweetheart!" Ann gasped wrapping her legs around Myra's head, rubbing her silk stocking up and down Myra's bare back. "Unh! Unh! Oh! Don't stop! I'll come, darling! I'll climax! OH! OH God!"

Myra didn't stop. She buried her face in Ann's warm, wet cunt, driving at her clitoris with relentless fervor. "Oh YES! Oh Myra! I'm coming, darling! OH! Oh! Fuck me with your sweet mouth! Take me with you tongue, darling!" And Ann rushed headlong over the falls into a crashing orgasm, the pleasure washing over her in terrifying tremors, shaking her body, locking her silk-covered thighs around Myra's head. "Ohhh!" she cried. "Oh, God! OH! OH! OH! AH! AAAAAAAAAH!"

Myra rose over Ann with a lascivious smile smeared with sex juices, her blond hair wild from the rough play. "What fun!" she gasped.

The two women cuddled close together again, kissing softly in the dim light. "Do you think they're gone now?" Ann asked.

"I certainly hope so," Myra whispered. "Your man act didn't last long once I had your knickers down!"

"You teased me so, you naughty thing. I couldn't stand it."

"Was it horrible?" Myra teased.

"Awful," Ann pouted. "Awful and wonderful! I've never felt such a thing in my life."

"Nor I, darling," Myra said, and kissed her new lover sweetly. "Now let's find that list those men talked about." She rose, completely naked, and began going thru Ann's clothes.

"The 'sixty-nine nymphs,' did they say?" Ann asked, propped up on an elbow, just as naked but for her silk stockings.

"Yes...." said Myra. "Whatever could that mean? I wonder."

"I'm sure I don't know," Ann replied. She primped her shiny black hair and cast about for her knickers. "It's a sexual position, you know, the 69."

"So I've heard, darling, but I should hardly think it is a list of girls willing to try it. But it's a list of women of some sort, I should think," said Myra. "How did you meet these men?"

"They bumped into me on the train," Ann said simply, slipping into her knickers again. "We squeezed past one another in the corridor. I thought nothing of it at the time, but it wasn't long before they were following me whenever I left my car—to the dining car, to the loo...."

"That's the first you saw of them?"

"Oh, yes," Ann said. "I was talking with Mr. Miller, the sheriff principal. He's the kindest man, Mr. Miller. He could help us with this. But afterwards, these men brushed past me in the corridor—"

"Here now, what's this?" Myra asked. She pulled a small cylinder of rolled paper from the flower on Ann's hat. It looked almost like a cigarette.

"Great Scot! How did that get there?!" Ann pressed close to Myra, their bodies touching again, warm and soft.

Myra touched Ann's cheek and kissed her lips. "It must have fallen in when they brushed past you in the corridor. They've been trying to get it back ever since."

"Well, let's hand it back to them and be rid of it." Ann embraced the girl, pressing her large breasts against Myra's bare back, holding the girl's small tits, smelling her hair. The sensation was positively decadent.

"Not so fast, darling," Myra chided. "Let's have a look...."

"'Darling.' I like the sound of that," Ann said softly, nuzzling Myra's warm neck. The little roll of thin paper unrolled about as long as her slim arm. On it, in two neat rows, were women's first names, each with a telephone number underneath.

"Ariadne, Gwendolyn, Cassandra, Helen, Bette, Penelope, and so on. The sixty-nine nymphs," Myra said.

"But who could these girls be?" Ann puzzled.

"Not girls at all, I suspect," the petite blond said. Myra gazed into Ann's deep brown eyes. "Spies, I should think, darling," she said.

"Oh my. Foreign agents? Perhaps we should go to the police."

"Yes, we should," Myra agreed, dropping the little list on table. "Shall we go first thing...in the morning?" She turned to kiss Ann again, to press her pointed tits against Ann's full bosoms.

"Mmm, darling, no," Ann said reluctantly. "Now's the time, I think. I should never forgive myself if those hooligans returned tonight and hurt you just to get to me."

"Thoughtful thing," Myra smiled and traced a finger down Ann's shoulder. "Let's go ring the police," she said.

Ann frowned. "We can't go down to the lobby; those men are probably still there waiting for us. But there's a telephone over at the train station."

Myra jumped up, small breasts bouncing. "Oh! We'll go out the window! It'll be an adventure!"

The two girls got dressed quickly and tore the linen off the bed to make an escape rope. "I hope they hold," Myra said. "I wish we had needle and thread. We could stitch them together properly."

"We haven't time, darling," said Ann, and slipped out the window. The rain had stopped, thankfully, but the night was black with clouded skies. Ann shimmied down the makeshift rope quickly, half-falling to a rough landing on her bottom. "Careful, deary," she hissed. "Wrap your legs round it good and tight."

Myra started down, legs wrapped around the bed sheets tightly, as instructed, and had no similar difficulty. The most harrowing moment came when a gust of wind blew her dress up and gave Ann a cheeky peek at her knickers. In a few moments, the two were rushing away from the little inn, across the wet meadow, towards the lonely railway station.

At the deserted station, Ann slipped into the telephone box and started to dial the operator for the police, but Myra stopped her. "Wait. We've got to be able to tell them something. Let's call one of the numbers." Ann looked shocked, but Myra took the handset. "Look, this one is local: 13-313227-22."

The two girls huddled together in the telephone kiosk under a feeble lamp while the rain began to fall lightly again outside. The little blond dialed the number. "It's terribly exciting," Ann whispered. "What will you say?"

But it was too late. "Is this Cassandra?"

Ann pressed close so she could hear the answer. "Who is this?" It was a man's voice.

"I've been asked to pass on a message from... Control."

"This is highly unusual." There was a long pause. "This is Cassandra. What is the message?"

The girl thought quickly. "Agents of the crown are conducting inspections of a new... military communications device in Coventry. We shall arrange that you become a part of it; you must pass a report back to us... and we will relay it out of the country." Ann gave her a wink and smile; it was quite the play-act.

Another long pause: "I read you," said the voice. "I will await further orders." Myra hung up.

"Egad! They are spies!" Ann breathed.

"There's no doubt of it."

"You were so good, darling," Ann laughed. "He tripped all over himself."

"Don't laugh," Myra said. "It's positively frightening! Let's ring the police now."

"Oh no," said the brunette. "Now I call the fellow back and find out who he is." A minute later, Ann rang the same number. It was picked up quickly. "Hello, Charlie? Oh, it's good to— What? Oh I am sorry. I must have the wrong number. Whom have I dialed, please? Pardon? Oh, my. Thank you. I shan't bother you again, sir." Myra hung up the telephone.

Myra looked at her closely. "Who was it?"

Ann was as pale as porcelain. "It was Mr. Miller," she said, "the sheriff principal."

"The man you spoke to on the train? Great Scot!" Myra gasped.

A heavy fist knocked on the door of the kiosk. Both ladies when numb, the blood washed out of the faces. The door was forced open roughly. A male voice in the darkness muttered. "Don't scream, you." Myra jammed the list down Ann's blouse and into her brassiere.

The girls came out of the little booth and into the light rain. The two bent-nosed thugs who had been after Ann earlier stood over them, soaked in the rain, which now had stopped again; their rough faces wore two-day growths of whiskers over their scowls. "Hand over, you li'l twats, or we'll push you under a train."

The girls absolutely trembled with fear. "Where is i'?" the man demanded in his gravelly, common, London slur. "Is i' up in 'ere?" He slid his hand up Ann's thigh, under her skirt, right up into the groove of her cunny. She stiffened and caught her breath.

"D'ya like tha'?" he taunted, massaging her tight slit. Ann squirmed.

"They got to have the list on 'em somewheres," his companion said. "Both of you: take off your togs."

Myra gasped. But both men agreed. The only way for them to search the girls was to strip them naked. Out came a folding knife of dastardly length that the second man used to toy with Myra's dress. "Shall I cut the buttons off, love?" he asked. She unbuttoned her dress, as Ann did with her blouse and skirt; she checked self-consciously to see that the list was tucked firmly into her bra cup. The two girls stood before them in knickers, brassieres, and shoes, their pretty clothes lying in the damp gravel next to the dark station.

"Oh I like this," the smaller man said, groping Myra flesh. "She's a cute one, isn't she? Let's do her first." The bigger man held Ann's arms behind her back, his thick prick stiff against her bottom, as his friend slipped off the little blond's brassiere. Her small bosoms were firm, their red nipples pebble-hard in the chill night air. "That's somefink, ain't it?" he mumbled, and squeezed her little tits gleefully.

Next came her knickers. Her small, blond pussy was exposed to the night air and the two brutes. She squirmed against the man, trying to slip his grasp, but he kept a firm hand on one arm as he groped the pink slit between her legs.

Myra knew that the only thing keeping the men from finding the list and, in all likelihood, doing away with the poor girls was her shivering, bare body and its attraction for the thugs drooling over it. She laid back against the brute who held her and let his fingers slide up and down her slit; he spat on them and worked them in deeper, making her whimper.

"You monster," Ann hissed at the man. But his fingers were giving Myra's quim a thoro teasing. She gasped. She huffed. She whimpered and moaned. Her pussy gushed juices, flooding his hand and making him smile. Her struggling now was less panic than pleasure. Ann was shocked. She tried to think of a way to help, but she couldn't even get an arm loose to get rid of the list.

"Unh!" Myra whimpered. "Oh! OH! OHHHH!" She tossed her head; she panted and shook, her knees buckling.

"Oh!" Ann squealed. But her young friend was lost in a moment of total carnal delight.

The man holding her slid his hand down Ann's knickers and toyed with her pussy again. "You're next, love," he taunted.

As Myra picked up her dress and began to slip into it, Ann went lax. "Wait," she said. "I'll show you." The man let her bend and pick up her skirt and blouse. She pretended to fumble with the waistband of her skirt, where a small thing like the list might be hidden.

"Run!" Myra squealed suddenly. And she planted her foot directly and firmly in the crotch of the goon in front of her and dashed away toward the train tracks, leaving her knickers and bra behind. While the thug in front of Ann was distracted, she balled up her fist and rapped him solidly in the nose, making him stumble back in pain. She rushed off after Myra at full dash, blouse and skirt in hand.

On the other side of the tracks, the fleeing damsels took a moment to look back and see their attackers take to the chase. They scrambled across the tracks after their quarry with angry determination.

Over the ridge beyond the tracks, the half-naked girls stumbled into a river, where the water rushed madly past them, tumbling down jagged rocks and under a bridge. The frightened ladies splashed into the freezing water, losing their footing, helping one another, and scrambling thru the rocks on the other side. The men followed, stumbling also. But one of the men took a serious tumble, sliding on his back downstream and colliding with the rocks painfully. His companion paused only for a moment before leaving him behind, face down in the water, bleeding badly from his head.

Ann and Myra shook off the chill of the river and rushed up onto the road, where they saw lights ahead. A motorcar was just crossing the bridge. Quick-thinking Myra did up a button on her dress and flagged it down while Ann slipped into her skirt and blouse. "What's all this?" the driver demanded.

"There's a man who's fallen in the river!" Ann cried, holding her blouse closed with one hand. "He's terribly hurt!" The driver tore his eyes away from the young woman's wet, bulging bosom and rushed down the embankment. The cheeky girls slid into his car and tore off at a furious pace.

"To the police!" Myra cried.

"Not to these police," Ann said. "They can't be trusted. Let's get ourselves to a train station and catch the first express to London!"

As the ladies settled into their railcar and locked the door, Ann pulled the list of sixty-nine nymphs out of her brassiere. "I'll be glad to rid of this soon. And we'll see all sixty-nine of them go to the gallows."

"Even your friend, Mr. Miller?"

"Even he," the dark-eyed woman said, "if he's an agent of a foreign government."

Myra wrapped her arm around Ann's waist. "Ann?" she asked timidly, "Have you ever... actually... experienced the 69 position?"

"Never in life, darling," murmured the brunette. Myra kissed her shoulder and looked up at her coyly. "Why, you cheeky girl," giggled Ann. "We've only just met!"