The Earl and the Governess: An Erotic Romance

by Alison Shaw

  “And I suppose you want me to do it,” Johnson said looking up from the bottom of the bed where somehow he had ended up. He looked impossibly sexy with mussed hair and his morning beard, and Rafe's cock stiffened despite having been recently sucked to shuddering release by both Lola and Johnson. It stiffened even further as Johnson struggled off the bed and sauntered naked over to the fire, his tight arse flexing temptingly.

  “So?” he asked as he prodded at the coals. “How did it go?”

  “Badly,” Rafe said, finally managing to roll Lola off and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “My uncle refused to see me. I spoke briefly to Sophie but she was worried about upsetting her father.”

  “Did you see Charlotte?”

  “No,” Rafe said quietly, raking his hands through his hair. “I think she may no longer be at Langham House. I'm terribly afraid we have lost her.”

  Johnson turned round, surprised at the use of ‘we’. “Maybe its for the best,” he said. “She wouldn't want to be associated with the likes of us. The scandal would ruin her reputation forever.”

  “I have a feeling that our Miss Kemp is no stranger to scandal.”

  “Try not to worry, Rafe,” Johnson said, an unusual tone of tenderness in his voice. “Charlotte will be fine wherever she is. She's made of strong stuff.”

  “When did I give you permission to call me by my first name?” Rafe asked sternly.

  A broad smile spread across Johnson's face as he stood up and faced Rafe, the full extent of his naked beauty now on show. Taking a step towards him he said in the sex soaked voice he knew made Rafe hard, “I don't think you did, my Lord,” and he took another step closer, and he whispered, “Are you going to punish me?”

  Rafe's balls were throbbing violently all of a sudden and he reached out and taking Johnson's wrist pulled him onto the bed.

  A wild curly head shot up and two hooded brown eyes took in the sight of the glorious naked men wrestling on the bed next to her. “Oh goodie!” Lola cried, opening her legs and fingering her suddenly wet pussy. “Two hard cocks all for me!”

  Once his despairing lust had been stated, the Earl of Langham declared once again that Lola must stay away, and this time Johnson obeyed his decree. No matter how much Johnson liked fucking the energetic Lola, he could see how Rafe was suffering and he was not as insensitive as he sometimes seemed. He now knew that he loved Rafe, as much as he had ever loved anyone, and he would do anything to make him happy, even stay confined with him in his big empty townhouse doing the job of eight servants and quite often, a wife. Luckily it was a miserable winter and it was no sacrifice to stay indoors, usually naked in bed with a fire roaring to keep them warm and Rafe's tender touch making up for the lack of other company. They had created quite an idyll for themselves out of the misery. Both of them knew it could not last forever, but it was sweet comfort for the time being.

  One December morning, Johnson was in a light slumber induced by some vigorous sex instigated by a randy Rafe, when a knocking on the front door wakened him. Puzzled to whom it could be, he quickly struggled into his clothes and hurried downstairs.

  When Rafe saw Charlotte standing by his bed he thought he was dreaming, and it was not until he noticed that she was wearing a thick wool gown he realised she was real. He had never seen her in winter clothes before. Her lovely auburn hair was pinned up, her cheeks were red from the cold outside, and she was staring at him as if he were an apparition too.

  “Come here Charlotte,” he said to her, his voice trembling. “Let me see you.”

  She stood by the bed, her hands shaking.

  “Come closer. Come and sit next to me,” he said as if she were a timid deer.

  She perched on the edge of the bed and he was suddenly reminded of her occasional coyness, how sometimes she would act the proper little governess even though he knew too well, that she was not proper at all. It made his mouth water as he realised that she was allowing him to seduce her again. He was rock hard at the thought.

  He laughed, despite his sudden ardor. “Oh Charlotte, why so shy?” then moving near her, he stroked the soft pale skin at the nape of her neck with his fingertips. Feeling her tremble under him, he couldn't keep it in any longer, and crying, “God, I've missed you!” he pushed her down onto the bed and wildly pulled at her clothes, desperate to have her naked and under him once again. He was a little too aggressive with her gown, hearing the sound of ripping seams as he tugged it off her but in no time at all, there she was, all creamy curves and endless legs and in his bed. Pushing those endless legs apart he set upon her like a starving man, feeding on her until she was writhing under him and crying out his name. Then he held her knees apart and thrust into her, revelling in how she stared up at him with glazed eyes and came apart around him with ecstatic little cries as he kept on pounding and pounding into her.

  As they fell asleep in each other's arms, Rafe realised that this was the first time they had been completely naked together, flesh against flesh.

  He woke later to find Johnson in bed with them. It did not shock him. In fact, it felt strangely natural and even when Johnson kissed Charlotte with a surprising passion, all Rafe felt was arousal; an arousal so powerful he felt it in every cell of his body, including his bruised heart. The three of them were meant to be together! This became even more abundantly clear when Johnson watched Rafe slip inside Charlotte, the expression on his face so full of wonder that Rafe could feel his cum already churning, and when Charlotte began to jerk Johnson's cock, Rafe came so suddenly he almost passed out.

  They stayed in bed all day, Johnson occasionally getting up to build the fire. All three of them felt as if they had discovered a new world, one in which they could all be happy beyond their wildest dreams, but as night turned into morning and they could hear the milkmaids calling down the street their mood became more sombre.

  Charlotte lay between the men, Rafe's head resting on her breast, Johnson propped up on his elbow watching them both with a gentle expression.

  “Stay here with us,” Rafe said, as her hair tickled his cheek.

  “How can she do that?” Johnson asked, ever the pragmatic one. “Society has shunned you, she'll be branded as nothing more than a harlot.”

  “I care nothing of society,” Rafe barked pulling himself up to glare at Johnson.

  “You may not. You’re rich enough not to care, but are you going to live locked up in this house forever?”

  Rafe glared at him angrily, his hair flopping over his forehead.

  “I cannot live like this,” Johnson said quietly. “I doubt Charlotte can either.”

  “I knew it,” Rafe hissed. “I knew you would leave me, you selfish coward!”

  At that, Charlotte pulled herself up to a sitting position also. “Stop it!” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. “Stop it the pair of you!”

  Rafe took her in his arms. “I'm sorry, but I have missed you and I never want to be apart from you again.”

  Charlotte pulled herself away from him and instinctively moving closer to Johnson she said, “You broke my heart, Rafe.”

  Johnson lay a warm hand on her shoulder.

  “You broke my heart when you almost married. Who's to say you won't treat me like that again?”

  “I won't!” Rafe cried, hearing the desperation in his own voice. “And especially not when you are having my child!”

  Johnson's hand stiffened on Charlotte's shoulder and she flinched.

  “It's true isn't it?” Rafe asked quietly. “You are having a child?” and his eyes moved to Charlotte's midriff, which she covered protectively with a hand.

  “Is it true, Charlotte?” Johnson whispered behind her and she turned to find his big brown eyes full of a new kind of hope.

  Rafe had been about to say something too but his words died on his lips as he saw the look pass between Charlotte and Johnson. “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “Oh no, not that. Please not that!”

  “I don't know who the father is,”
Charlotte said in a steady voice relieved to be finally telling the truth. “I don't know which of you is the father.”

  Johnson's dark eyes settled on Rafe who steadily returned his gaze, a million thoughts racing across his indigo eyes, and after what seemed like an eternity he gave a sigh and then much to everyone's amazement smiled wryly.

  “You are a bastard, Eddie Johnson,” he said in a tired voice, “A randy bastard who can't keep his prick in his breeches,” and his hand rested on Johnson's knee. “But I love you, God help me.” His hand moved to Charlotte's knee, “And I love you too, Charlotte Kemp, with all my heart.” His hand moved to her belly and gently stroked her, “And I will love this child, whoever his father is.”

  “Oh Rafe,” Charlotte choked, a tear escaping down her cheek.

  Johnson gulped and said in a strangled voice, “But where will we go? We can't stay here?”

  “France,” Rafe said blessing them both with a radiant smile. “I've done with all these society hypocrites! Let us all go to France and do exactly as we please! Let's fuck until we can't fuck any longer!”

  And laughing the two men pushed Charlotte back into the pillows and kissed her belly until she was squealing for mercy.

  ~The End~