In keeping with the evening's theme, the Duke began to think about his father and fatherhood. He no longer felt negatively about himself for failing to produce a child during his father's life. Knowing his father had managed to capture a glimpse of his wife and newborn son brought him a great deal of peace. He did fear, as all new fathers do, that he would not be as equipped to raise a child as his father had been when he first came into the world. Of course, Owen possessed significantly more money than his father had when he started his family and he did not have the added burden of a perpetually ill wife. Still, he feared that he would fail in raising his son. Why? He did not know. It was as inexplicable as his fear of losing his inheritance but it never left his mind. To the credit of the Duke - if one wished to give a man credit for denying his feelings - he had managed to shove the thoughts of failure to the back of his mind and live a normal life. Now, sitting on the couch with whiskey in his hand and his father in his mind, those thoughts were unavoidable.
"Oh father," he said with his eyes rolled to the heavens, "how can I be the father I so want to be? How can I raise my son in such a way that he will be a competent Duke when his time comes?" He filled his mouth with whiskey, and swallowed with eyes tightly shut before continuing to speak. "Should I be strict with my son or should I endeavour to be his friend? What if my wife and I produce a second child? When is the right time to do such a thing? Should I pray for a brother for my child or a sister?" No answer came. None was expected. The Duke simply needed to believe that somebody was listening to his worries and frustrations, for he could not share his feelings with those whom he encountered on a daily basis. As a new mother, the Duchess had her own problems to deal with. Problems which were likely far greater than his. He could not share his thoughts with Harold for he did not have the close relationship with the butler, which his father did. The final person who the Duke came into contact with on a daily basis was his son, whom he certainly could not talk to, as he was a baby and spoke only in nonsensical flips of his lips, occasionally adding laughter despite really having nothing to laugh about.
"Is being a father easier than I have been lead to believe?" he asked the air, "I have seen many a man in worse circumstances than I raise a child despite lacking in finances and brains." He drank from his glass again. It was only his third time to raise the glass to his lips but he had already consumed three-quarters of the liquid that had filled it. He shuddered, as he had both times prior, for he had failed to add a satisfactory amount of water. Despite this, he drained his glass and returned to his increasingly hazy thoughts. "Surely if the poor and wretched people of this country can raise their children successfully, I can turn my son into a respectful and respectable member of society. With my wealth and my wife's unwavering dedication, my son is sure to become the greatest Duke the nation has seen." He paused again and raised his glass, before remembering he had already drained it of the last of its contents and lowering it.
"I don't know," he sighed, as if he were having a legitimate conversation with a present partner who was advising him. "Perhaps it is time I go to bed. Issues such as this are more adequately addressed when one has enjoyed a full night of sleep." He pushed himself from his chair and placed his empty glass on the mantle, leaving it there for the butler or one of his two new maids to find and clean the following morning.
The Duke dragged himself upstairs, gripping the banister tightly to ensure he did not suffer a tumble. He made use of the wall in a similar fashion as he travelled through the hallway of the top floor and treated the doorway of his chamber in the same way once he reached the room. Like every drunken man, the Duke spent the majority of his time looking at his feet, only looking up to ensure he was not about to crash into something which could cause him more damage than he would like. He stood leaning against the doorway for a drunkard's second (two minutes or so) with his gaze firmly on his feet. It had not occurred to him to button his shirt after his encounter with the spirit of his father and so the white flaps still hung from his torso, occasionally floating into his vision and momentarily captivating him almost to the point of hypnosis. Finally the Duke pulled himself out of this oblivion and glanced upwards to make sure his path was clear before he entered the room. The moment he moved his vision from his feet to what was before him, the Duke was stunned into silence. Something which was quickly becoming a habit for him. This time, however, the cause of his shock was not supernatural. In fact, it had no connection to the after life at all. What had stunned the Duke into silence this time was the image of the young maid, whom he had left to complete the cleaning of his chamber, lying nude on his bed.
The young woman lay on her stomach, her feet on the Duke's pillows and her head resting in her hands at the foot of the bed. A slight gap between her arms revealed her breasts, which were pale but nonetheless perky and attractive. Her dark brown eyes were looking directly into the eyes of the Duke and a seductive smile sat firmly on her lips. A few strands of her dark brown hair hung over her forehead, adding to her picturesque appearance and complementing the light brown freckles which were placed almost strategically throughout her face. The Duke was, understandably, finding it more than a little difficult to comprehend exactly what was going on and left the room to gather himself in the hallway.
"That's odd" he declared under his breath, "I did not think I was so intoxicated." He took a deep breath and entered the chamber once again, only to find that the image of the naked maid spread across his bed was not a hallucination brought on by over-consumption of alcohol. There she lay before the Duke, that same seductive smirk still on her face and her maid's uniform lying in a pile by the side of the bed.
"Young woman" began the Duke, trying to display some sort of authority in his voice despite the fact he was very clearly intimidated by the maid's near perfect frame. "I demand you to explain yourself at once."
"I apologise if I am overstepping my bounds," she replied, fully aware that she was indeed overstepping her bounds, "but you seemed so ridden with stress and frustration that I simply had to do something for you."
"I... I..." he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and tried to continue, his speech inhibited by the dryness of his mouth. "I do not desire anything which you can offer me and if you leave my chamber this instant I am willing to forget about this and allow you to continue working her at my manor."
"My lord, do not deny me so hastily. Surely a man whose wife has just given birth to a child longs for the untouched, virgin body of a younger woman." The Duke stammered, for the maid was indeed a sight to behold. Her rear stuck high into the air and seemed to be perfectly symmetrical, just like her face and breasts. However, he was a happily married man and did not wish to risk his idyllic relationship with his wife for the sake of a night with another attractive woman.
"I demand you to leave my chamber at once" he told her, a sentence that his sixteen-year-old self would have scolded him for.
"But my lord, I..."
"I demand you to leave my chamber at once" he repeated, this time shouting it at the top of his lungs and pointing to the doorway to ensure the maid had little doubt as to where the exit of the room was located.
Defeated, the maid let out a loud sigh and rose from the bed. The Duke did all he could not to look at her as she gathered her clothes to leave, but he was a human being and could not prevent himself from glancing in her direction once or twice. She looked even more amazing standing up than she did lying down on his bed. She had an hourglass figure and legs that seemed to carry on far beyond the floor. He felt a near uncontrollable attraction towards her. An attraction, which was stronger than anything he had felt for any woman ever before, including his wife. This was an attraction so powerful that it seemed almost otherworldly, as if there were some kind of all-powerful force drawing him to her. Noticing him staring as she picked her uniform up, the maid locked eyes with the Duke again and asked: "Would you like me to get dressed her or remain nude until I am out of your sight?"
Owen was lost for
words, the beating of his heart had increased dramatically and he was beginning to lose trust in his ability to remain loyal to his wife.
"If you wish for me to cover myself with as little delay possible," she began, not once breaking her eye contact with the Duke, "perhaps it would be best if you were to assist me in getting dressed."
Clutching her ball of clothes tightly in her right hand, the maid moved slowly across the room, ever closer to her employer. The Duke knew that nothing good could come of him remaining in that room a second longer, but he could not seem to will his body to leave. What he was experiencing was something almost like a paralysis that kept him rooted to the spot against his better judgement.
"Perhaps you can wrap your hands around by body and fasten the buttons at the back of my uniform" she continued as she approached, "of course, I shall first need you to help me put it on." She was now so close to the Duke that he could smell the sweet breath, which poured out of her mouth as she spoke. Her lips were a bright red, the kind one could only gain through use of lipstick, something that was rather uncommon for lower classes at the time. She stuck the tip of her tongue out of her mouth and ran it over her lips, repeating the action several times until both her top and bottom lip were glistening with her saliva. Owen couldn't help but feel envious of the lips, a feeling, which only added to the general confusion he was feeling. He had never before been attracted to a woman who was not his wife, but now he could feel his heart nearly bursting out of his chest and his member beginning to thicken and rise.
The maid now stood just inches away from the master of the house, she could feel the bulge in the Duke's trousers pressed against her, which made her giggle.
"It seems you are not so eager to be rid of me after all" she said, taking his reluctant hands in hers and tilting her head upwards so that her lips brushed against his chin as she spoke. With butterflies in his stomach and a lump in his throat, the Duke made one final attempt to prevent himself betraying his wife.
"Please, leave me alone" he said; there was desperation in his voice, he knew that he was not strong enough to resist the woman any longer.
"My lord, if you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you want me to leave, I will do so without hesitation." Hoping he had the power to say those words, the Duke returned his eyes to the eyes of the maid and began to speak. "Young woman, I want you to..." he stammered, overcome with nerves (or something similar) before he could finish speaking. Flustered, he inhaled deeply and spoke again. "Young woman, I want you too..." he paused again, "I want you too..." Looking into the deep, youthful eyes of the maid, he could not bring himself to complete the sentence. Defeated and unable to resist his urges, his wrapped his hands around the waist of the maid and planted upon her a sheepish but powerful kiss.
Chapter Four
With his lips still pressed to hers, the Duke grabbed the maid’s rear with both hands and dug his nails deep into her flesh. Without pulling away from her employer, she let out a loud moan of pleasure and filled the Duke's mouth with her delightful breath before following it with her tongue. Their tongues wrestled, intertwining and venturing deeper into mouths and throats. The Duke had never before kissed or been kissed with so much passion. She placed her hands up the back of his unbuttoned shirt and ran her nails slowly down his spine, making sure to pay equal attention to each individual bump. The Duke removed his hands from the rear of his lover and pushed her away, which was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. For a moment, the maid was concerned for the future of their encounter and feared that the Duke's integrity had managed to overcome his desire. However, she soon discovered that his only reason for removing himself from her was to give enough room to rid himself of his shirt. He threw the shirt to the ground, revealing to the maid the full glory of his naked torso. He possessed the kind of muscular upper-body which one read about in erotic fiction but was never lucky enough to encounter in real life. Just the right amount of hair ran from his pectoral muscles to his naval, staying perfectly within the fine lines of his abdomen. Now it was the maid who could not control herself and she practically threw herself at her lover.
Almost possessed by the beauty of the Duke's naked torso, she took the nipple on the right of his chest between her teeth and began to grind it mercilessly. Not being married to a particularly adventurous partner, the Duke had never experienced the sensation of having someone's tongue against his chest and nipples and it was nearly enough to bring him to orgasm then and there. He sighed and trembled and shook and moaned, which only encouraged the maid to continue what she was doing. She alternated between his nipples, taking each one between her teeth and covering it with her saliva before she finally grew tired of the act and dragged her tongue slowly down his torso. The further her tongue travelled down her lover's torso, the more the maid was forced to bend over until, finally, she fell to her knees before the Duke. With an almost impossible level of ease, the maid undid the Duke's belt and pulled his trousers around his ankles and again she stuck her tongue out and used it to trace the Duke's left leg as she came back to a kneeling position. He still wore his white underwear but the sheer size of his erect penis meant it could burst through at any minute. The otherwise impeccable underwear was tainted by a small grey patch, which had been caused by the pre-cum, which seeped from the Duke's penis as he thought about all that was to come. This was a sight that made the young woman giggle a second time, for it was something which she had never seen before. She gathered herself and pulled tugged at the Duke's underwear, pulling it downwards and finally freeing his throbbing penis in the process.
Eager to pleasure her master, the maid took Owen's pulsating member in her hand and stroked it from the bottom of the shaft to the very tip of the head. She delighted in simply being able to hold it, feeling the blood that pumped through it and knowing that it was all because of her. Pre-cum still oozed from the head and trickled onto her hand and wrist as she set about bringing the Duke to orgasm. She placed the man's being into her mouth and formed a tight seal around it using her mouth. The head of the Duke's penis was so large that it almost entirely filled the mouth of the maid, leaving no room for her tongue. Fortunately for Owen, the young woman was able to move her tongue just enough to make him lose control of his body. While the Duchess was, admittedly, quite talented at dealing out oral pleasure, the young maid was so skilled in that department that she made the Duke's love for his wife but a distant memory. With the intense pleasure he was feeling causing his knees to come within inches of collision, he decided that it would be bordering on dangerous to remain standing and so he removed his penis from the mouth of the maid and softly crumbled to the floor of his chamber. Though she was rather disappointed to no longer have the Duke's member behind her teeth, the eager maid wasted little time in crawling over his fallen body and positioning herself over his face.
His head firmly between her legs, the Duke had little doubt as to what the woman expected him to do. He had never been overly fond of performing oral sex, but there was something about the maid which made him happy to cast his misgivings aside and bury his tongue deep inside her vagina. Unlike past experiences, the Duke found this girl to taste and smell quite pleasant, even pressing on her shoulders to bring her closer to him. The maid exhaled loudly and filled the room with her sighs and screams as whatever degree of pleasure she had brought to her partner moments before, was being dutifully repaid to her, and with interest. He continued to lick and suck her clitoris, vigorously moving his head from side to side to ensure maximum effect.
Both parties soon came to the realisation that neither they nor their partner could last much longer before climaxing and so the maid removed herself from atop the Duke and bent before him on all fours. She wriggled her rear playfully, inviting the Duke to mount her that instant on the chamber floor. He brought himself to his knees and shuffled towards the maid, coming to a halt behind her and placing his hands on her hips to steady himself. After delivering a number of good-natured slaps to her rear - slap
s which were powerful enough to turn her pale skin red - he took hold of his stone-like penis and slowly inserted it into the young woman. A loud sigh escaped the mouth of both the Duke and the maid before the Duke began to move gently back and forth, entering and re-entering the woman with his nails buried deep into her hips. For several minutes, he carried on in this way, building momentum and making the woman scream louder and louder. So loud, in fact, that it is nothing short of a miracle that she did not wake up the sleeping Duchess. Finally, the Duke emptied his male juices in the body of the maid and fell to the floor in exhaustion, and the satisfied maid soon followed suit. The couple lay together on the floor of the chamber, the maid resting her head on the Duke's chest while he inhaled and exhaled heavily, complimenting her whenever he could spare the breath.
Their peace was soon interrupted, however, by the sound of knocking at the front door of the manor.
"Why, whoever could that be?" grumbled the Duke, hoping to be able to ignore the caller. Unfortunately, the knocking persisted and the Duke was forced to rise from the floor, fasten his trousers and open the door to the visitor. He made it to the top of the staircase before realising that while he had covered his bare legs, he had forgotten to put on his shirt. Slightly embarrassed, Owen returned to the chamber only to find that the maid had vanished. Though the disappearance was unexpected, it did not disturb him but the smallest amount. She had left the chamber just as suddenly as she had entered it and was probably hiding in one of the other rooms, hastily dressing herself before rushing downstairs to her mother. The Duke threw on his shirt and re-entered the hallway. This time he made it to the front door successfully and opened the door to the caller, whose knocking had not, for even a moment, ceased.
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 81
