attention. That was a first in his life. Never before
had he been bothered, preferring a silent companion.
Twice more he teased her before running the handle between
her legs to tantalize her there. It was enough, he had to have her.
"Roll over, and re-grip the same place," he
ordered, and moved back to let her accomplish it.
She did with an alacrity that both pleased and amused him.
Felton threw the crop to the floor. He would not need it
anytime soon. This would be hands on and cock in.
"Spread your legs." As she did, he knelt on the
bed between them, and touched her quim. The smooth curl-less skin was wet. As
he kneaded the flesh, a fresh gush of arousal coated his fingers.
"You are so ready for me, love. What would it take for
you to climax?" Her eyes widened and she looked at his cock as it twitched
its intentions. Ah, I have forgotten to
revoke her silence.
"Speak," he said. "No more silence. In truth,
I wish to hear how what we do affects you."
"Then I expect once you touch me, I will fly. I am
teetering on the edge, but I wish for your touch to throw me over, not my
mind."
"Then in this, my love, we are in accord." With
one swift thrust, he impaled himself in her cunt and pulsed deep and hard. Ara
was true to her word. She clenched her muscles to hold him tight inside her,
and wrapped her legs around his waist. The moment she did so, she began to
shudder. Her fingers latched on to his nipples and pinched. It was enough encouragement
to move harder and faster, not that it was needed. As he thrust in hard, her
skin became covered with a rosy flush. She matched his movements, and his cock
grew ever ready to release his seed. All of a sudden, she keened, and chanted
his name over and over. Her body juddered next to him, the movements all around
his prick, enticing him to let go.
With one last push, he opened and his seed filled her. His
cock pulsed and he saw stars. Never had he felt such an immediate and intense
climax.
Still he thrust, determined to be milked dry, and to ensure
Ara was sated. Their coupling may have been short and sweet, but Felton was
sure he had never experienced one so perfect. Beneath him, Ara writhed and
sobbed, eyes closed, as, he thought, the last tremors filled her.
"Tell me, love, tell me your feelings." He pinched
one rosy nipple and she screamed.
"Ah, no, no, It
is too much, I am I am…" Her voice trailed off as her shudders subsided.
He moved until she lay still under him, and with one last thrust, pulled out
and slumped over her.
"I am sated." Ara slurred the words, and lifted
her hand to let it fall limp by her side. "Oh, my lord, I have moved, but
I cannot move my arm back. I am boneless." She let her other arm follow
the first, and opened her eyes a little. "Please do not chastise me. I
could no more accept punishment as I could appear on the stage at
Drury Lane
."
He laughed, lifted
his body off her, and rolled to one side, gathering her close. With one swift
movement, he then lifted her to lie on top of him. His cock made a half-hearted
attempt to rise to the occasion and failed miserably.
"No,
not this time. I too am sated. And pleased. I think we will make a
formidable team. What say you?"
Ara giggled, and wriggled over him. He swatted her arse and
she moaned.
"Oh, I say…" She paused and kissed his nipples and
then his lips. "I say yes sir."
Epilogue
Jeremy Viscount Willingham looked down at the skeleton of a
man in the bed before him. He felt no emotion, no pity for what the man had
become. He might be related by blood, but as far as Jeremy was concerned, that was
a pity. If his sister, Ara, hadn't begged him to be there, to ensure he
received all his inheritance, Jeremy would have never set foot in the family
house—it could never be called a home—again.
On the far side of the bed two other gentlemen stood. One
glowered, not happy that the other, more respected, physician was also in
attendance. It would have suited Stanley Welles,
had he been bothered, preferring a silent companion.
Twice more he teased her before running the handle between
her legs to tantalize her there. It was enough, he had to have her.
"Roll over, and re-grip the same place," he
ordered, and moved back to let her accomplish it.
She did with an alacrity that both pleased and amused him.
Felton threw the crop to the floor. He would not need it
anytime soon. This would be hands on and cock in.
"Spread your legs." As she did, he knelt on the
bed between them, and touched her quim. The smooth curl-less skin was wet. As
he kneaded the flesh, a fresh gush of arousal coated his fingers.
"You are so ready for me, love. What would it take for
you to climax?" Her eyes widened and she looked at his cock as it twitched
its intentions. Ah, I have forgotten to
revoke her silence.
"Speak," he said. "No more silence. In truth,
I wish to hear how what we do affects you."
"Then I expect once you touch me, I will fly. I am
teetering on the edge, but I wish for your touch to throw me over, not my
mind."
"Then in this, my love, we are in accord." With
one swift thrust, he impaled himself in her cunt and pulsed deep and hard. Ara
was true to her word. She clenched her muscles to hold him tight inside her,
and wrapped her legs around his waist. The moment she did so, she began to
shudder. Her fingers latched on to his nipples and pinched. It was enough encouragement
to move harder and faster, not that it was needed. As he thrust in hard, her
skin became covered with a rosy flush. She matched his movements, and his cock
grew ever ready to release his seed. All of a sudden, she keened, and chanted
his name over and over. Her body juddered next to him, the movements all around
his prick, enticing him to let go.
With one last push, he opened and his seed filled her. His
cock pulsed and he saw stars. Never had he felt such an immediate and intense
climax.
Still he thrust, determined to be milked dry, and to ensure
Ara was sated. Their coupling may have been short and sweet, but Felton was
sure he had never experienced one so perfect. Beneath him, Ara writhed and
sobbed, eyes closed, as, he thought, the last tremors filled her.
"Tell me, love, tell me your feelings." He pinched
one rosy nipple and she screamed.
"Ah, no, no, It
is too much, I am I am…" Her voice trailed off as her shudders subsided.
He moved until she lay still under him, and with one last thrust, pulled out
and slumped over her.
"I am sated." Ara slurred the words, and lifted
her hand to let it fall limp by her side. "Oh, my lord, I have moved, but
I cannot move my arm back. I am boneless." She let her other arm follow
the first, and opened her eyes a little. "Please do not chastise me. I
could no more accept punishment as I could appear on the stage at
Drury Lane
."
He laughed, lifted
his body off her, and rolled to one side, gathering her close. With one swift
movement, he then lifted her to lie on top of him. His cock made a half-hearted
attempt to rise to the occasion and failed miserably.
"No,
not this time. I too am sated. And pleased. I think we will make a
formidable team. What say you?"
Ara giggled, and wriggled over him. He swatted her arse and
she moaned.
"Oh, I say…" She paused and kissed his nipples and
then his lips. "I say yes sir."
Epilogue
Jeremy Viscount Willingham looked down at the skeleton of a
man in the bed before him. He felt no emotion, no pity for what the man had
become. He might be related by blood, but as far as Jeremy was concerned, that was
a pity. If his sister, Ara, hadn't begged him to be there, to ensure he
received all his inheritance, Jeremy would have never set foot in the family
house—it could never be called a home—again.
On the far side of the bed two other gentlemen stood. One
glowered, not happy that the other, more respected, physician was also in
attendance. It would have suited Stanley Welles,
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