by Amelia Wren
* * * *
Later that evening, I was sitting in the drawing room, reading Flaubert’s daring novel, Madame Bovary, when I heard a tapping on the glass panel of the French doors. It was late; it was nearly half past ten, and I had been meaning to retire to my bedchambers soon, but the novel had me engrossed. And it was a good thing it did.
I whipped my head around, half expecting to find a scoundrel or some other unsavory type, but to my relief, my surprise and indeed to my delight, I found George Chatham staring back at me.
Madame Bovary fell to the floor as I scrambled up off the sofa and hurried over to open the French doors.
“George!” I exclaimed. “What in Heaven’s name are you doing here?”
“I thought perhaps you might want to finish what we started,” he said with a grin.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. It all seemed terribly surreal to me, as if I had imagined the events unfolding. Because, to be quite honest, I’d been hoping that such a thing would occur. Up until I became engrossed in Flaubert’s engaging tale, I had been unable to think of anything but George and the passionate moments we shared earlier that day.
“Is your mother aware that you’ve come to call again?” I asked.
I haven’t the faintest idea why I asked such a question, but nonetheless, that is what I said.
“Are you mad?” he said with a laugh. “Of course I did not inform my mother of my plans to return to Hollingsworth Manor, to tear off every stitch of your clothing and to roger you six ways to Sunday.”
Unable to think of a single, solitary way to respond to such a remark, I simply stood there, gaping back at him.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, of course.” I stepped aside, ashamed of having forgotten my manners.
George came into the drawing room and shut the door softly behind him. And then, before I even knew what was happening, he gathered me in his arms and started to kiss me.
I responded immediately by winding my arms up around his neck and melting against his hard, muscular chest. Oh, it felt so good to be pressed so firmly against him! His tongue stroked the inside of my mouth, his fingers unbuttoning the back of my dress. Within moments, he had my dress unfastened and he drew his lips from mine so that he could pull my dress up over my head.
And there I was, standing in the drawing room in my undergarments, which George wasted no time relieving me of. First he unfastened my petticoats and let them fall to the floor. He picked me up easily with one hand on either side of my waist and swung me round. He then unlaced my corset, tossing it carelessly to the carpet, and then he lifted my chemise up over my head and discarded it as well.
He then paused, gazing at my bosoms as if he were mesmerized. With a moan, he lunged forward and wrapped his lips around one of my tender pink nubs. I arched my neck and released a low moan of bliss myself. George alternated suckling my nub and stroking it with his tongue, and he was quickly driving me to a frenzied state.
I raked his scalp with my fingernails, tugging at the roots of his thick, lush, dark hair. He reached out to cup my other bosom, pinching and stroking and fondling one pink nub as he suckled the other.
My nether regions were slick with desire and desperate with need. As glorious as it felt for George to be pampering my bosoms, I longed for more.
I did not have to wait long.
With one final swirl of the tongue, George drew his lips from my bosom and proceeded to unlace my drawers. In no time at all, he pushed the undergarment down over my hips, and with the exception of my boots and my stockings, I was completely nude.
He grunted, falling to his knees, and then he did the very thing I hadn’t even dared to hope for. He buried his face between my thighs and proceeded to lick my nether regions.
“Oh, God!” I cried out.
I reached out to prop my arm against the back of a chair, in the hopes that it would help keep me from toppling over. George’s tongue swiped up and down my pulsating pink folds with a relentless sort of determination. His hands reached around to cup my bottom cheeks as he feasted upon everything I had to offer.
My chest heaved with desire as he ran his tongue up and down and up and down before zeroing in on that magical little nub nestled towards the top. I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes closed tight as he swirled his tongue round that mysterious little treasure. As he circled faster and faster, my entire body started trembling and I felt my extremities start to go numb.
I cried out again, like a wild animal in heat, as I gave myself over to absolute pleasure. Oh, but it was spectacular! Thank heavens the servants’ quarters was at the other end of the house. If anyone were to be within earshot, they would surely come running, under the assumption that I was in grave danger, so feral were my cries.
I barely had time to gather my wits together as the pleasurable sensations started to ebb before George carried on with his erotic agenda. He rose to his feet and gazed at me with a cheeky grin.
“Oh, George,” I whispered, reaching out to stroke his neatly trimmed whiskers.
“You enjoyed that, did you?” he asked.
I couldn’t answer. He leaned forward to kiss me, and I pressed my body firmly against his. I got a bit of a jolt when I tasted my own natural juices upon his lips, but after the initial shock, I was able to relax and enjoy the kiss. It felt so strange to be completely nude and to be pressed up against a man who was fully clothed! The rough wool of his suit jacket scratched at the tender flesh of my bosoms, and of my sensitive pink nubs in particular, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact.
But within moments, George took a step back. His lips didn’t leave mine, but it seemed he was preoccupied with another matter, and it soon became clear to me what that matter was. I heard the telltale sound of his belt being unbuckled and sensed that he was fumbling with the opening of his trousers.
At last!
Oh, how I longed to behold George’s glorious unclothed body! He slowly drew his lips away from me and I feasted my greedy eyes on his manhood, which was emerging proudly from his trouser opening. Both the girth and the length were remarkable, and I could hardly wait to have that glorious muscle inside of me.
Naturally, I had assumed that there would be a bit of a delay. I fully expected George to take a moment or two to shed his clothing, but he evidently felt that there was no time to spare.
To my surprise, and also to my delight, he proceeded to bend his knees ever so slightly and then positioned the tip of his manhood up against the entrance of my nether regions.
And then he was inside of me.
I gasped. Despite having seen the size of it with my own eyes, I wasn’t entirely prepared for how it would feel to have such a massive member inside of me. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation of having the walls of my tunnel stretched to their absolute limits.
George leaned down to give me a slow, sweet kiss on the lips. I opened my eyes and we exchanged a smile before he proceeded to plunge in and out of me.
Oh, what a strange and exciting experience it was to be enjoying marital relations—well, not marital relations—whilst standing erect! I would never have guessed such a thing would even be possible if I hadn’t experienced it myself. And to be engaging in such an act in the middle of the drawing room, no less. I felt delightfully naughty as George pierced me again and again with his glorious manhood.
After a minute or so, George said, “I’ve got to adjust things a bit, Elsa. I’m afraid this position is a bit hard on my knees.”
“Oh, dear,” I said, looking down.
Indeed, it seemed that George was having to maintain a sort of squat position as it were.
“Yes, of course,” I said. “Make whatever changes you deem necessary.”
He grinned, and with that, he lifted me up by the waist and carried me over to one of the sofas whilst the two of us were still attached by our nether regions. George deposited me on the back of one of the sofas.
&
nbsp; “Hold on tight,” he said.
Dutifully, I gripped the back of the sofa with both hands whilst he carried on plunging inside of me. Being slightly elevated with my feet dangling off the back of the sofa was just as novel a sensation as it was to be standing on the ground. Who ever would have known that marital relations—all right, very well, relations—could occur anywhere and not in a bed, exclusively?
I had barely become accustomed to the thrill of enjoying relations whilst dangling off the back of the sofa before George wrapped his hands around my waist and picked me up again.
Whatever now?
I gazed into his handsome face. His eyes were so deliciously, delightfully dark that the sight of them derailed my thought process for a moment or two.
By the time I regained my senses, George had carried me over to a chair and had taken a seat with me on his lap.
What in Heaven’s name was going on?
“If you would be so good as to draw your knees to your chest,” he said.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I did as he requested. And then George reached out to circle me with his arms. I couldn’t possibly explain how he managed to accomplish such a thing, but he proceeded to spin me round on his lap until I was facing away from him. And he did so as his manhood was firmly wedged into my nether regions.
I gasped with delight and wonder. What a strange and exciting sensation it was for him to spin around whilst still inside of me.
I barely had a moment to absorb that experience when George got to his feet with grunt, the two of us still attached. He walked over to the coffee table and knelt down, carefully depositing me on the surface of the polished mahogany.
“Elsa, if you would be so good as to get down on your hands and knees…”
On my hands and knees! My initial thought was to remind George that I was a lady, not a dog, but I must admit that I was curious to see what he might have in mind. Never in my life had I been in a more curious state—kneeling on the coffee table in the drawing room, naked as a jaybird and let us not forget, I also had George’s manhood wedged firmly inside of me.
And so after a moment’s hesitation, I rose up on my knees and leaned down on the palm of my hands so that I was facing the tabletop.
“I daresay you’ll enjoy this,” George said.
Was he ever right about that!
I can’t possibly say why, but when he started plunging in and out of me, it seemed that he was able to go deeper in, ever deeper. I moaned with abandon as his manhood reached places I never even knew existed. I had no idea my tunnel stretched so far inside of me!
After a series of slow, sensual movement, George sped things up, gradually at first, but before long, he was thrusting in and out of me at a breakneck speed. My dangling bosoms swung like pendulums possessed and my arms and legs shook with quivers of delight coupled with the force of George’s thrusts.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I cried out, “Oh, God!” as the pleasure roared through my body like a raging inferno. It was the most intense, most wonderful sensation I had ever experienced in my entire life.
And all of a sudden, it was as if a dam had burst. George’s essence shot forth from his manhood like a cannonball to coat my inner walls. He continued to thrust until I felt my body absorb the warmth, and then he slowed and ultimately halted.
Ever so gently, he pulled his manhood out of me, and once we were separated, he placed his hands on my shoulders and spun me round. I gazed up at him in a daze, scarcely able to believe what just happened.
What does one say in such a situation?
It was on the very tip of my tongue to say, “That was lovely, George,” but I was fairly certain that would sound rather odd right at that moment.
George smiled. He knelt down and gave me the sweetest kiss on the lips. Brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear, he said, “You are a ripping girl, Elsa Hollingsworth.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d love to stay, but I’m afraid I must be getting back,” he said.
My lips parted in surprise. No more than a quarter of an hour must have passed since I first caught sight of George standing on the other side of the French doors.
“Surely you can’t be serious,” I said.
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “From what I understand, our stable master tends to check on the horses right about midnight, and if he finds Raven missing, there will be questions. I don’t fancy explaining to my father where I’ve gone off to in the middle of the night on a whim.”
I shrugged. That was certainly understandable. At the same time, I couldn’t bear the thought that such an extraordinary experience should be so cruelly short lived. For heaven’s sake, I didn’t even get the chance to see him in the nude!
“Don’t look so crestfallen, my darling,” George said, taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “If it pleases you, I would love nothing more than to return another time. I’m sure I could come up with a convincing story that would explain my absence.”
“Oh, would you?” I asked, feeling ever so much brighter.
“Of course.”
He laughed and leaned in for another kiss, a long, lingering kiss that made my entire body zing.
“I shall call upon you again sometime in the next few following days. Until then, my darling Elsa,” he said before stepping back.
I watched as he fastened the opening of his trousers and buckled his belt. How very amusing it was that George hadn’t even bothered to remove his jacket, whilst I hadn’t a stitch of clothing on!
“Sleep well, darling girl,” he said, leaning down to give me one last lingering kiss before turning away, crossing the room and departing the same way he came in.
I sat there, staring at the French doors, blinking in astonishment. A part of me wondered if I had in fact dreamt up the entire encounter in my mind. However, the fact that my nether regions felt as if they’d been stretched beyond their limits made the encounter a reality.
I leaned back on the mahogany coffee table and closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of bliss currently coursing through my veins. It would seem that I now had a lover, and I quite liked the idea of that. I had a feeling that there were many, many explosions of pleasure yet to come.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Lady Elsa Takes a Lover, be sure to check out my other erotic shorts as well as my three erotic romance novels, specializing in domestic discipline.
Links to Novels on Amazon:
Taming His Lady
Being Lady Clara
Lord Winthorpe’s Virgin Bride
Links to Erotic Short Stories on Amazon:
Teaching the Governess, Lesson 1: The Eagle
Teaching the Governess, Lesson 2: The Star
Teaching the Governess, Lesson 3: The Spider
Teaching the Governess, Lesson 4: The Lotus Blossom
Pleasuring Lady Barnaby
Servants Misbehaving
Miss Rafferty’s Punishment for Disobedient Girls
Miss Rafferty Punishes the Insolent Servants
Copyright 2015 by Amelia Wren
All rights reserved, including the right to publish this book or portions thereof (except for reviews, news media reports, brief quotes with attribution, and purposes of promotion of this book in any form whatsoever.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The material in this book is intended for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and is intended for those over the age of 18 only.
All participants in sexual activities within this book are over the age of 18.
grayscale(100%); -moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
