The Duke was not at all surprised to see the maid return to the study just moments after leaving, swearing she was returning home to her husband. He had always been a persuasive fellow and likely could have talked his way into the throne if he really wanted to. Of course, he did his best to feign shock when she walked to the front of the red velvet chair (which he was now happily resting in) and present herself before him.
"What? Why Sandra, I thought you were returning to your husband. Have you forgotten your coat?" He folded his newspaper and placed it on the arm of his chair before rising to his feet. She was silent. "Surely you have not decided that you wish to be with me rather than your husband, who you claim to love more than you love life itself." Still she did not speak. Finally, just as the Duke opened his mouth to continue, the maid grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to her, brining his lips to her own and kissing him passionately. During their first kiss, she had fought to keep her tongue in her own mouth, attempting to restrain it like a dog owner whose canine has just spied another dog. This time, however, she allowed her tongue to enter the mouth of the Duke and wrestle playfully with his tongue, which was finally receiving the contact it had been so desperately seeking,
Though Alexander had braced himself for some level of intimacy as soon as he heard the footsteps of the maid heading back to the study, he was surprised by how ferociously she had gone after his mouth. She was a shy girl and had always had more than her fair share of inhibitions. She avoided making eye contact with visitors with whom she was not familiar and did not very often engage in conversation with other members of the manor staff. Of course, what the Duke did not know was that Sandra had an insatiable sexual appetite. When she was excited sexually she was not unlike a thunderstorm. She was unpredictable and almost impossible to control. All this and more he was about to discover in the study that morning. Yes, it was still morning. Early morning. It was not yet nine o'clock and the Duchess was still sleeping. The wind, which always seems strongest in those dreaded early hours, was still blowing and the birds were still singing. These two noises, however, were soon to be drowned out, overpowered by the sound of the maid as she moaned with pleasure upon feeling his tongue push against hers and force its way into her mouth. Both were so eager to taste the other that they moved at a pace that resulted in much miscommunication and poorly timed movements. But neither party was willing to let these missteps ruin this moment. No matter how many times their teeth connected or how frequently the maid lost her balance, they were determined to follow through on their impulses and allow themselves to become lost in this fantasy-turned-reality.
Still exploring her mouth and throat with his tongue, the Duke placed his hands behind the woman, hovering them over her rear. He did not want to risk taking her wonderfully formed rear-end in his hands too soon, such a mistake could potentially send the young maid into a frenzy and bring their encounter to an early end. She surprised him once again with her powerful sexual desire when she reached behind her back, grabbed both of his wrists and forced his hands to her buttocks. She wanted to feel him clutching her, his nails digging though the thin black sheet that was her uniform and entering her skin. He was more than happy to oblige. She took his rear in her hands also. It was rigid. Firm. A great deal more impressive than the rear of her husband. The Duke raised his hands slightly and dipped her just as he had done in the hallway the previous day. Fighting against gravity, she kissed him still. Their lips had not separated since the first made contact. This was the first time in far too long that Sandra had not been in a rush to reach the intercourse. She wanted the encounter to last and was in no hurry to remove her lips from the mouth of her lover. He continued to lower her until she could be lowered no more and came to rest on the floorboards of the study.
Her hair spread across the ground like a Japanese fan or the arms of the sun. Perhaps it could also be compared to a starfish, but that far more accurately describes her arms and legs, which were also spread. She made no effort to shield herself as she lay on the study floor. She was ready to give herself to the Duke, who was now on his knees to her right.
"Come and join me, sir,” she said before grabbing him by the wrist once again and pulling him to her. He made no attempt to stay upright and made sure his lips met with hers as he journeyed to the ground. He had not thought it possible, but the young girl's lips tasted even better than they had during their kiss moments before. Her delicious breath filled his mouth, as did her tongue. He climbed on top of her and positioned himself so as his penis was brushing against her vagina. Although the two vehicles of sexual gratification were separated from each other by two layers of underwear and two layers of outerwear, both the Duke and the maid found the minimal contact to be of grater pleasure than anything they had experienced with their respective spouse in recent years. That being said, it was nowhere near the pleasure they would experience once their clothes were removed and there was nothing to prevent them making full contact. With her lips on the lips of the Duke and her eyes tightly shut, Sandra moved her hands downwards and felt around the Duke's midsection until she came across his belt. Clumsily, and with shaking hands, she undid the belt and pulled it through all eight loops on his trousers, freeing it and throwing it across the room. It was owing to nothing but luck that the Duke's belt did not collide with any vase or statue or any other ornament as it followed its trajectory. Unfortunately for those fragile objects, they were not out of danger just yet. Every item that was not hanging on the wall or standing on floor legs began to shake as the maid pumped the Duke's penis back and forth with her blessed right hand. Her speed was such that it caused vibrations strong enough to bring several valuable sculptures crashing to the study floor, most of which broke. This did not bother the Duke, however. As long as Sandra continued making him feel what he was feeling, she could do no wrong.
She released his penis from her grip but commanded him to continue the task himself, which he did. As he lay there, stroking himself and begging the maid to return to him, she unfastened the buttons of her uniform and began to remove the garment from her body. Revealing first her shoulders, then her breasts, then her abdomen. She revealed the lower half of her body all at once when she tore the uniform away and sent it across the room to join the Duke's belt. Now all she had to hide her body from the master of the house was her underwear, but he could see to that with relative ease. She came closer to him and he reached behind her back with his free hand. Rather impressively, he removed her petticoats without taking even a moment's break from touching himself. He would have quite liked to be the one to remove her knickers and expose her magnificent vagina, but the maid saw to that task herself. She, like he, was extremely excited and, not wanting to wait for him, removed her knickers while he was still pulling her petticoats from her breasts.
He looked at her naked body, which was illuminated by the sun. She looked like a Greek Goddesses. Her breasts and her vagina were as perfect as anything could be without being sculpted the some artist from the Renaissance. He was not sure which part of her body to go for, it all looked so appetising. Had she not taken it upon herself to make the decision for the man, it is not unlikely that the Duke would have spent sixty minutes weighing the pros and cons of the breasts and vagina (though it would not have been easy to find any cons).
The maid placed herself above the face of the Duke, nearly suffocating him between her thighs. He did not complain. Even if he were to begin losing consciousness, he would not complain. Death itself was worth any amount of time between the legs of the beautiful young girl. She was already moist when he began sucking on her clitoris. She tasted amazing, which lead to him sucking harder and the maid moaning louder. So loud, in fact, that she was almost screaming. She was close to orgasm, as was the Duke, for the maid was not a selfish lover and had made sure to massage the Duke's throbbing penis as he gave her the greatest oral sex it had ever been her pleasure to receive.
Now she could wait no longer for the feeling of the Duke's stone-like penis
inside her. Had she been able to control herself, she would have prolonged the encounter for another hour or so. But she could not. Without consulting him (she did not have to), she removed herself from his face and moved downwards, raising herself slightly before descending slowly on his organ. She shut her eyes and exhaled as the full glory of the Duke's penis revealed itself to her. He was deep inside her, his glands moving against the glands of her vagina with every squat. She placed her hands on his still covered shoulders for leverage, which allowed her to raise herself even higher before coming back down and engulfing the Duke's organ all over again. It came to an end all too quickly. Almost as soon as this whole situation with the Duke had begun, it was over and she collapsed to the floor, panting. Though it was undoubtedly the greatest sex she had ever had, she could not deny that it left her feeling rather empty. Now that she gotten her arousal out of her system and could look at the Duke with eyes uncorrupted by attraction and realise that he was not what she wanted. Far from it.
"I love you."
She did not answer him. He repeated those three words and she repeated nothing. Finally, she rolled out from beneath the Duke's arm and got to her feet. Confused, he watched her as she gathered her uniform and stepped inside it.
"Why, what are you doing? You do not need to return to work so soon."
"I am not returning to work at all," she told him as she recovered her breath. "It is my day off and I am going home to spend it with my husband."
THE END
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Forbidden Love
A Regency Romance Novella
By: Rosamund Talbot
Forbidden Love
Chapter One
It was past midnight when the Duke and Duchess returned to their manor just outside of London. They had been visiting with the Prince Regent, who had taken control of the United Kingdom following the decision that King George was unfit to rule. Neither the Duke nor Duchess had been very fond of King George and they did all they could to avoid him during his time on the throne. That being said, the couple had always considered the King's son to be a fine individual with a good sense of humour and a great ability to keep those around him entertained. Once he took the throne, they made sure to visit him every couple of months for dinner, wine and laughter. This evening, however, had not been quite as merry as previous evenings spent with the Prince Regent. In fact, it had nearly been a disaster. It was a well-known fact among the couple's social circle that the Duke had something of an over fondness for alcohol and would, more often than not, drink far more than he should, if a bottle of wine was presented to him. That evening in the Prince's palace, he had consumed two whole bottles of wine by himself, much to the astonishment of those present. He went on to astonish them further by the slobbish manner in which he addressed the Prince Regent.
"George" he told him as he drained the contents of yet another glass of wine, "it's high time we pay some attention to the poor of the country." Those present cringed, some flinched and some let their jaws drop to the floor in shock. The thought that anybody, even a Duke, would tell the man who would one day be king how to run his nation was indeed absurd. The Prince Regent, to his credit, did not let his anger or his surprise show. Instead, he let out a slight chuckle and enquired as to the Duke's plans.
"Firstly, I believe it is a travesty that so many people in this country are do not have a bed to sleep in. After all, do we not claim to be the greatest nation in the world?"
"Well Matthew, there are a great many things which we need to focus on and I assure you that the poor are on that list."
"Oh they are? Because it is very easy for one to believe otherwise! Driving through London today, I saw dozens of people lying on the streets, surrounded by their own filth. It was as if we were seeing the damned in Hell!" The use of such a strong word shocked even the Prince Regent. One woman gasped, another dropped her glass, causing it to shatter. The Duchess, who had remained sober, apologised profusely and dragged her husband from the room and into a carriage before instructing the driver to bring them home that instant.
"Lie down on the couch," the Duchess told her husband, walking in front of him and refusing to turn to face him.
"I am not in the mood for lying. I believe I shall remain standing."
"Matthew, if you attempt to stay on your feet you will surely collapse and inflict great harm upon yourself. It is for your own safety that I suggest you take a place on the couch."
"If you truly believe it is in my best interest to lie down, I shall go to our chamber and climb into bed. It is past our bedtime anyway."
"Oh no, Matthew. I am not sleeping in the same bed as you tonight. Not after you embarrassed me like that in front of the Prince Regent."
"My dear, the Prince Regent is a close friend of mine. He cannot be displeased with me."
"Of course he can, Matthew. He is extremely displeased with you. He is angry at you, as am I." The Duke replied to this comment with a groan and a clutch of his stomach before doubling over and releasing three mouthfuls of vomit on the ground. Disgusted, the Duchess ascended the staircase without inspecting her husband's wellbeing.
Having emptied his stomach of all that was inside it, the Duke's first instinct was to call the manor's live-in maid to tend to his mess, but he was far too inebriated to remember her name.
"I suppose I will have to make use of my hands and clean this myself,” he said out loud, believing his wife to still be in the room with him. "But first I will have a short rest on the couch, as you suggested. I must rest my weary bones before putting them to work." With this, the Duke flung himself onto the patterned velvet of the living room couch and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter Two
There came a knock to the Duchess' locked chamber door. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. She had just changed into her nightgown and was all ready to climb between her sheets and sleep away her anger. She did not want to deal with her drunken husband and his desperate pleas of apology.
"Go away from the door, Matthew" she called out, "return to the living room and leave me be."
"It is not the Duke, madam,” replied the live-in maid in her timid but unmistakeable voice. The Duchess sighed again. She did not wish to be disturbed by anybody, but being disturbed by the maid was better than being disturbed by the Duke.
"Very well" the Duchess said as she headed to the chamber door, "one moment." She unlocked the door and instructed the maid to enter. Margaret, the maid, was a young girl of twenty years. At five-foot-four, she was quite a short girl and she could not have weighed any more than six stone.
"What brings you here?" asked the Duchess as she sat down on the bed.
"I heard you and the Duke embroiled in an angry exchange. One loud enough to wake me from my slumber. Have your marital problems returned?"
"Do not worry about me, Margaret. I am quite alright."
"But madam, if you are in your unhappy marriage, there are many alternatives." The maid took a seat on the bed, just inches away from the Duchess, which made the older woman jump to her feet.
"Margaret, we have been through this before. I was of the belief that I made myself clear but apparently I was mistaken." Margaret rose to her feet.
"But Anne..."
"'Madam'" the Duchess corrected her.
"But madam, you
cannot deny that you harbour strong feelings of desire for me. Perhaps even for many other women."
"Leave my chamber."
"You told me that you had never felt a delight as great as the delight you felt when our bare bodies were pressed together."
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 98
