The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories

by Lacoste, G. G.

  “Aaarrrah,” she sighed as he began again thrusting into her with long slow strokes, “Aarrrrah!” the Duke moaned as he climaxed and just as he started ejaculating he withdrew his prick and let his warm milky fluid shoot all over the young maid's body as she too experienced her erotic orgasm and slumped on the bed.

  They were lying on the bed with a chilly breeze playing on their bodies. Jean was relaxed and contented. “It's been a long night, my Lord,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

  At daybreak, the Duke and the maid were ready to push on with their journey. The maid came out in all her glory; wearing her best black satin with her fringe and a frizz on her forehead. She was wonderful to behold with a large brooch pinned to the bosom of the dress, supporting a gold watch-chain. The watch-chain belonged to a gold watch, which was tucked into the waist of her dress, and both had been gifts from her uncle.

  They reached the manor without any further incidents. Jean was introduced to the Duchess who welcomed her and the Duchess was heard to say. “My God, Andrew, this girl looks so young she hardly looks sixteen,”

  'Beatrice, honey, don't be deceived by her looks,” the Duke said. In fact I too was mistaken at guessing her age, but she is almost twenty-one.”

  “She's very pretty, but doesn’t look overly strong,” said the Duchess doubtfully. “And it's not a kitchen maid that I want. At the moment what I had in mind was a bigger and stronger girl to be my personal chamber maid and governess to my little baby.”

  “I understand your concern, dear, but just don't judge a book by its cover.” the Duke told her.

  “But of course. I'm willing to give her a trial, as long as she is not too demanding like the former governess.” the Duchess said. “I know she'll be a good girl and work hard,” she added gruffly.

  The duties of a governess in a house the size of the Manor were unknown to Jean. There seemed to be a great number of upper servants in the house. One of her tasks was to help wait on the Duchess at mealtime in the main dining hall along with the other maids, but none of them took any notice of her except another young maid by the name of Annie.

  During those first weeks it was only her companion in misfortune Annie who made their joint laboring under Cook bearable. Under Annie's directions, the feverish attempt to get things right without provoking the terror of the Cook's fury petrified poor Jean.

  Jean also noticed that there was a lot of waste in the Manor as mountains of vegetables were brought to the back door by the head gardener. There seemed to be more in one morning than could be sold in her hometown shop of Hanna in a week. The waste of food, too, appalled her.

  “All this lovely fresh bread,” she moaned as she helped Annie to wash the dishes. “All thrown away! Whatever happens to it all, Annie?”

  “It goes into the swill for the pigs, of course,” said Annie, sniffing over her bowl of water.

  “The pigs?” Jean's eyes grew round. “Is there a farm, nearby?”

  “Heavens, no!” said Annie good-humouredly. “It's the home farm, you silly. All big Manors like this have their own home farms. How else would we have enough milk and cream and butter and eggs, and such?”

  Jean said no more, though she puzzled over it in silence. There were `just four or five people around which the servants, gardens and farm revolved.

  Jean enjoyed her stay at the Manor because it was in her nature to enjoy life. Above everything she enjoyed accompanying the Duchess in horse riding.

  Of the servants, she liked Annie the best. She was the one nearer to her own age, being only two years older than she was, and there was a lot of common sense in her, accompanied by a wicked sense of humor akin her own.

  As the days passed, the new maid Jean was getting attached to the Duchess in many ways. The Duchess on her part was attracted to Jean more and more, physically. It didn't sit well with the cook who felt she was losing her dominating place in the Manor. Through her jealousy she was beginning to pour her wrath on new maid, Jean.

  It so happened that one day Jean, in a gesture of helping her friend Annie in the kitchen, had donned a cap and apron. She was helping Annie with the dishes. They were chatting happily while doing the dishes when they heard the elderly cook woman came lumbering into the kitchen like a bear.

  Startled out of her wits, Jean stopped and looked round and then tried to retrace her steps unwillingly, being a lass who liked to mind her own business: she was speechless enough without the added embarrassment of having to deal with a woman like the cook.

  “What in heavens are you doing here, in the kitchen. Just leave this girl alone and get back where you belong.” The elderly hag barked at Jean.

  “I was only trying to help my friend.” Jean said.

  “I will not have one of my girls gaining a reputation for being a flirt like you,” the cook said.

  “I beg your pardon, Ma'am, whom are you calling a flirt?” Jean questioned the cook.

  “Don't you dare talk back to me, you snooty little bitch.” The cook said and lashed out striking Jean's face with her open palm, and thumping her with a clenched fist on her breasts.

  Cringing with fear and shame Jean ran away from the kitchen, blinded by the tears that started flowing. She was heading towards the Duchess parlor when she abruptly bumped into the Duchess.

  “What is the matter, Jean, my dear”” the Duchess questioned her. She saw Jean, weeping into her apron and oblivious of everything except the present misery of her life under the cook, and as she guessed the cause for such abandoned weeping and her heart was filled with pity for her, and fury against the old witch who had hurt her.

  “Why didn't you brain that witch her own rolling-pins, when she stuck you.” The Duchess said. “I'll deal with her later.....come let me see if she has hurt you badly.”

  The Duchess led Jean to her bedroom and made her lie on the bed and examined her. She noticed , Jean's usually pale cheeks carried reddish marks on both sides..

  “What has happened to your face?” she asked more gently, and Jean put up her hand quickly to cover it and tried to smile at her through her tears. She was so nice and comforting that the very sight of her was consoling.

  “It's nothing, thank you, my Lady,” she said. “That is...the old hag in the kitchen boxed my ears, and I dare say I deserve it.”

  “She has no right to hit you.” The Duchess voice was deep and rumbling with emotion. “You're too delicate to receive such treatment.” she said leaning over and kissing Jean's cheeks.

  From her cheeks, the Duchess moved her lips to the maid's and planted a passionate kiss. Jean responded by hungrily chewing the Lady's lips.

  Receiving a highly successful response to her initial advance the Duchess ran her hand lightly down the girl's legs feeling the soft mound, the smoothness of tanned skin, the firm long stretch of thigh muscles underneath. She was an inch taller than the Duchess, and at twenty-one she did still looking like a child to her love eye.

  The Duchess crawled on the other half, the empty half, of the bed and leaned on the headboard. It was cozier somehow, even though Jean was reclining. She'd already drawn her panties and dropped them on the bed. Now she slipped her own panties off too, and tossed them on the floor. The cool air hitting her wet yearning bunny just about made her crazy. It wasn't coolness she wanted there, but hot female flesh!

  Her fingers separated the slickly wet folds of Jean’s labia and rubbed along her chubby quaking clit. It would have been fun to play with her young maid, to teach her how to arouse her and eat her cream bun, before moving on to a grand finale of wild, furious fucking.

  The Duchess tried to imagine what young pussies looked like, but after all, Andrew was twenty-seven when they married, and she a virgin. He'd been the only man at that time she ever saw naked.

  The Duchess looked across the bed and saw Jean's swelling mound. Not as a man's prick, but smoother. Paler. She could see the pink pea pushing forward. She glanced down at her hands, now stroking and caressing and plunging into Jean’s
clitoris, and it was as if they weren't part of her at all, but belonged to an invisible lover.

  To deepen the deception, she closed her eyes. A good swift roll was what she needed, and she rammed three fingers in and out of the maid’s, not worrying about the slurpy noises. The young maid in bed went out of her mind, with her juicy inner walls closing on her mound and urging it to move faster. Her mind tried to pretend it was really happening, but reality kept penetrating even into her sexually intoxicated mind.

  The Duchess squeezed her eyes tighter, screwing her face up with the intensity of her mood. Even her hands would be better than her own, because how could you pretend when you knew all the time.....no, it was getting better, Her fingers were a little slow, but that was part of the charm. She worked them into her dribbling clit stiffly, gaining confidence as the dream of fantasy took a stronger hold.

  “Yessss, yessss,” she moaned. “That's the way, dear. Now kiss it, Kiss your Lady's pussy, please! Stick your thin long tongue up my snatch, yeah!” Rocking, undulating with the strength of her need, she felt her warm breath on her inner thighs.

  Then her tongue moved in, carefully at first as if she were trying it out, not sure she'd like it. Then the rough hot tongue began to stab, hitting the right place on the third try, slipping up into her steaming passage while her nose and chin smacked loudly on the outer walls of her clit.

  Her maid Jean continued plunging her face into the aristocrat’s damp crotch, finding to her surprise that it was a very pleasant feeling. She never would have dreamed it, it sounded nasty when she'd heard talk about eating pussy. But something rippled through her, something hot and exciting. She knew that she'd blended into her lady's fantasy that she kept her eyes closed so she wouldn't see it was her own maid kissing and tonguing and sucking her in these intimate parts. But maybe, she thought she was finally beginning to learn something, something she very much wanted to know.

  “Yes, dear, yes,” she moaned , “Suck my clit, yes, suck it deep and hard!” She put her hands on Jean’s head and maneuvered her where she wanted her, so her mouth pressed hot and wet on her clitoris. She wouldn't let herself think about anything except the thrill at being touched and excited in the most sensitive part of her body.

  “Aaarrrah, oooooffff!” Her butt and labia contracted with her cum, as the sweet ripples spread through her. “My heavens, that's nice....so nice, dear!” The Duchess moaned aloud.

  “Nice indeed!” The young Duke said, closing the door behind him and making his way toward the bed occupied by the two naked females. He had been a silent witness to the erotic proceedings for almost fifteen minutes.

  There was a kind of mixed reaction from the naked females on the bed. While Jean the maid displayed fear and shame, the Duchess watched the Duke from across the room and grinned. She displayed no fear or shame. It wasn't one bit easier for her than it was for him. She rubbed her thighs together and tried to remain cool and collected.

  She liked the sexual freedom, since while it lasted it was marvelous. The trouble was, good manners and ethics prevailed even when swinging. Or maybe it was a basic sense of fairness, or fear of the Duke's disapproval. What was she supposed to do when the Duke was screwing the hell out of some dame somewhere. She visualized with a shiver how the Duke had taken her so very often. He came up and grabbed her by the ass. His fingers tight around her buttock, and he squeezed hard, hard enough to make her yelp.

  The Duke just grinned and walked across to the bed and squeezed her again. “Come on, baby, lie down and spread your legs for me. You can get your pussy milked any time.”

  “Later, dear,” she said. “I'm tired.”

  “You don't have to do anything,” he smirked. “Men do all the work, didn't you know that? Come on, honey, I want a piece of the fun right now.”

  It wasn't only his rudeness. They had rules about it and no man or woman was supposed to have to do anything they didn't want to. Only...not too many argued with the Duke.

  The Duchess could have made a fuss, of course that was where the fantasy came in. Secretly she was enjoying the sensation of being forced against her will. In fact she had a sudden impulse to wrap her lips around his fantastically big dick, but she put it down. It wouldn't suit the little play she was acting out. Instead, she let him pull her and toss her on the bed beside the still cringing Maid.

  “Honey, I know that you like young pussies. So do I. It's a thing that I picked up from you, so if you don't mind it, let me continue with what I started with my maid, while you plug me.” The Duchess said crouching down on all fours and taking a doggy position.

  “You sure know how to please your man, don't you?” The Duke said preparing himself to mount the Duchess from the rear, while she herself got her young maid to come around and kneel in front of her as if in prayer.

  Andrew the Duke crouched over the Duchess on his hands and knees, his erect hard prick brushing against her thighs. At least he didn't want to plug her in the ass, she thought with a delicious thrill of fear. Much as she enjoyed having her butt reamed out, she knew it couldn't take anything the size of him.

  She clenched her round thighs together only to have the fun of feeling him wrench them apart. He pinned her wrists with his big hands. Slowly, leisurely, he poked at her slit with his hot knob. The knob burned as it slid inside. The Duchess gasped, and it was for real.

  “God, Andrew,” she whimpered. “I feel like I got a flag pole up inside me.”

  The Duke smirked and said. “You want a real ride, honey, you come to me.”

  The Duchess never felt so stuffed and filled before. Her resilient vaginal walls were stretched as far as they could go, sending out a thick flow of juices to ease his way. Her eyes opened wide as she felt the hot prick twitch deep inside. She just couldn't believe the sensation it gave her, a tingling sort of pain that faded into warm overflowing pleasure. And then he began to rock slowly in and out.

  Her orgasm was beginning to thunder through her, as she laid gasping and panting under the Duke's body. His warm milky juice spurted into her and overflowed her vagina, trickling warmly down the inside of her thighs.

  The Duke's smile was triumphant. He was pleased with himself as a kitten in cream. He still kept his prick buried in the Duchess muffin and reached out to grab the maid's boobs and massaged them, clipping her pouting nipples with his fingers.

  It was the young maid's turn to mourn in ecstasy. “Milk me my Lord.” she hissed through her teeth, as she felt the Duchess spreading her thighs and milking her down under. The double delight of getting her tits and clit milked sent her over the edge. She gained rapid orgasms and climaxed. The maid too was certainly sated....physically. She'd cum so many times that she'd lost count.

  All their erotic actions went to prove one thing. When it happened to be sex, even the best of aristocratic families stooped as low as a commoner, forgetting what little decency they have to satisfy their lust.

  The Duke was never one to bask in the snuggling and whisperings and happy events after climax. Both women were as wiped as the Duke. The women had begun to comb their hair and slip into clothes. The Duke was still sprawled nakedly exhausted, flushed with satisfaction, maybe enjoying a last few minutes of bliss.

  Of course while the Duchess wanted to be together as a happily married couple, neither she nor the Duke had quite this degree of togetherness in mind. She'd imagined nights in their chamber, or in their bed in the candle-light, and enough privacy so they could take care of each other's needs. It would be fun, they both thought, to talk over all the exciting and sometimes amusing events of their erotic lives, until they'd worked each other to yet another fever pitch of sexuality.

  The relationship between the Duchess and Jean grew quietly but rapidly. Jean no longer went up to see the Duke, only when she took his meals. She called on the Duchess quite frequently. Every time she saw her, there was a more perceptive leaping of her heart, and the surging reaction that came from somewhere deep in her being was more marked.

  The D
uchess’ smile signaled her happiness at seeing Jean every time she opened the door of her room to her. They would settle into conversation, and she had a gift for making her brim over with laughter, filling her heart with warmth it had never known in the presence of any other.

  Jean, revealed nothing about her background, but the Duchess knew what it was. The Duchess was also aware of the slight edge of anxiety, which showed in the Duke's demeanor occasionally. There was a restlessness, too, which she detected, although he tried hard to conceal it.

  The Duchess feared for him, but she knew he would argue that he had a duty to do by her maid...and he would pursue it to the end.

  THE END

  WARNING: This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This ebook is for sale to adults ONLY

  Please ensure this ebook is stored somewhere that cannot be accessed by underage readers.