A Gentlewoman's Pleasure Read online

  Oh, my goodness!

  It seemed outrageous. Absurd. Like something from that dream she’d first believed herself to be in. But the thought was in her mind, and she knew that people did do it. Not giving herself further pause to debate, she craned forward, opened her mouth, and slid her lips over the tip of Ethan’s cock.

  “My dear adorable girl,” he gasped, his hands sliding to the sides of her head, holding it tenderly as she engulfed a little of the prodigious length. The pedant in her mentally remarked that she was far from a girl, and he was the younger of the pair of them, but the sensualist exulted in her own power.

  How delightful, how deliciously degenerate. She had the crown of a man’s penis in her mouth and she loved it. He was so smooth and hot and silky, slightly salt, mostly indefinable in flavor. The thin fluid he exuded made her mouth water around him, and invoked an instinctive lapping action, a slow flicking that made his fingers tense and dig into her hair.

  “Yes…oh yes, indeed…oh, my dear Lucy, you are a natural siren.” Looking up the plain of his body as she laved him with her tongue, she saw his beautiful face contorted and his eyes tightly closed as if in a transport of agony. Yet his words expressed quite the opposite sentiment. “Oh! Oh, yes…do that…do more of that…. You are so clever…. That’s heavenly! I adore you!”

  Tears almost welled in Lucy’s eyes. She was doing it right. She was pleasing him. She was having a delightful time, and, in just this one moment at least, this handsome man cared for her. Happiness swelled in her chest as she applied herself diligently, letting her fingers settle around the base of his shaft in a light grip. He was far too large to enter her mouth completely, and already his hips were bucking and lifting as if beyond his conscious mastery.

  For several long minutes, she licked, she sucked and she toyed, all the time almost wanting to giggle at the impassioned utterances that came out of Ethan’s mouth. He was obviously in such an extreme state of pleasure that fine, cogent language was beyond him.

  Eventually, he became quite frantic, grabbing at her hair and her ears, moaning and calling out, his body still trying to push him deeper and deeper. Then suddenly, he stopped.

  “Oh Lucy, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t…I’m so selfish. You take nothing from this.” His hands, instead of holding, tried to lift her from his cock.

  No! I will have it!

  Fighting his efforts, Lucy redoubled hers, pointing her tongue and worrying the groove beneath the head of Ethan’s organ in a way she’d noted made him groan. At the same time, to distract him, she delicately cradled his bollocks and stroked them with her thumb.

  “Oh, Lucy, please…I shall spend in your mouth. Please let me remove myself. It’s unfair to you.”

  Looking up at him, she saw his eyes were open now, and she gave him a very resolute look from behind her spectacles and dove in with her tongue again. Ethan cried out in a harsh yelp, and then gave up his fight, returning to his incoherent groans and cries of pleasure.

  It didn’t take long. Within seconds, his shaft seemed to ripple, and his testicles leaped in her hand. Something smooth and warm and satiny filled her mouth, his emission, pumping out, bathing her tongue.

  Ethan let out a harsh, blasphemous oath, but his voice sounded like that of an angel singing in paradise. His fingers held on tight to her head, as his hips worked, lifting him and thrusting into her mouth, to the limits allowed by her grasping hand. He pushed with several sharp shoves, and then subsided, falling back.

  As he softened, Lucy let him slip free, licking her lips and swallowing down his essence. No longer obstructed, her mouth curved irresistibly into a smile. A smug, happy little smile, she was so pleased with herself.

  How advanced I am. A born courtesan. I’m a virgin still, but I’ve tasted a man.

  She laughed out loud and, waking as if from a daze, Ethan looked up at her.

  “Love-play is absurd, isn’t it?” He smiled, reaching for her and drawing her down to him, for a hug. “We do the strangest things…and yet at the time, they seem perfectly apposite.”

  “You don’t think I’m a strumpet, do you? Doing something so scandalous, when we barely know each other?” It wasn’t a real fear, and yet this intimacy was so new; it still felt fragile.

  “I think you’re a wonder, and a miracle, and a most generous, beautiful woman.” His lips brushed her brow, just above her spectacles, and his breath made the lenses mist and her vision blur.

  “I feel that you must need a pair of these too,” said Lucy, unhitching the earpieces and pulling up a corner of sheet to polish the misted glass. Quickly, she fitted them back in place. She couldn’t bear not to see the truer beauty in the room.

  “Don’t talk nonsense, woman!” Ethan’s arm tightened around her, squeezing, while his free hand settled on her body. “I’ll show you how I appreciate your body. It’ll be a little while before I can service you in the time-honored way, but until then, I can still give you pleasure. And take pleasure for myself, enjoying your beauty.”

  Lucy snorted, about to protest again, then let out a little surprised squeak when he plucked at her nipple through the cotton of the shirt she was wearing. The sensation was intense, piquant, but it made her feel as if she wanted to wriggle and churn her thighs. Low in her belly, a familiar heavy sensation, sweet yet urgent, roiled and surged.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes…um…I don’t know. It excites me. It makes me want you to touch me in my most intimate place.”

  “In your puss, sweetheart…your puss.” He squeezed the tip of her breast again, not hard, but with assertion. The sensations between her legs increased and bloomed, growing more and more pleasurable, yet also plaguing.

  “Very well then, it makes me want you to touch my puss,” she said, gasping, “and be quick about it too. I…I’m in great need.”

  “It would be my privilege.” Ethan smiled, his blue eyes a-twinkle, and even as his hand slid downward, Lucy glanced in a southerly direction too, and saw that his depleted organ seemed already to be reviving.

  How lusty you are, dear boy….

  And then she did not think, as he hauled her borrowed shirt out of the way and slid his fingers between her legs, seeking and finding her very center.

  Oh! Oh yes! How wonderful…

  With tip of his middle finger he stroked and rolled the proud little pearl, her most sensitive place. Lucy had fondled this tiny structure herself, on occasion, but to have a man caress it, especially this man, was transcendent. Where he touched and petted her was a bridge between them, a conduit for shared feelings and erotic sensibilities. As sweet sensations welled in her loins like honey overflowing a pot, all considerations of the outside world slipped away. They were just woman and man, pleasured and pleasure giver, two perfectly matched parts of an ancient puzzle.

  Lucy clung to Ethan, rocking her hips in counterpoint to his delicate, accurate ministrations. She moaned, reaching, reaching, reaching for the goal he offered…then in an instant secured it, reaching her peak, soaring to crisis. His finger stilled where it was, just pressing as if holding station, securing the moment and ensuring that she wrung every last drop of bliss from it.

  “Oh, my dear man…oh Ethan,” she wailed, holding on tighter to him, her rock in this strange new ocean of sensual pleasure so freshly discovered. Hazily, she was aware of her nails digging into his skin and tears of emotion squeezing from the corners of her eyes.

  And when she opened her eyes, her glasses were misted again.

  For a little while they lay together, not moving. Ethan’s fingers were still resting lightly in her sticky cleft, and against her thigh, she felt his cock pressing against her, burning hot and completely restored to rampant vigor. But he didn’t pressure her to receive him. He just let his flesh, latent with power, rest against her.

  Capsized in contentment as she was, Lucy gradually began to take more and more notice of his hardness. There he was, all at readiness. Could her senses cope with another round of ecstasy so
soon? Could her maiden body receive so sizable a member?

  Well, there was only one way to find the answers to those questions.

  “Do you think you might be able to service me in the time-honored way now, perhaps?”

  Ethan chuckled, a low masculine rumble of amusement. Was she being too forward? She didn’t see how that was possible. In this situation, it seemed that a bit of female initiative was more than welcome. He certainly hadn’t been shocked or horrified when she’d sucked his cock.

  “I’m quite certain of it, my dear. In fact, I think I’ll go quite cross-eyed with lust if I don’t do so immediately.” His long fingers moved against her, stirring the embers. Not that they needed it. She was suddenly all afire for whatever he had to offer, whether it be his touches and caresses, or the ultimate conclusion.

  But he continued to stroke her and rouse her, bringing a fresh flow of silky dew to her eager puss. In a still, quiet, assessing corner of her mind, she nodded approvingly at his technique. She’d told him she was a maid, and he was attempting to assure her an easy first time. In her heart and soul and senses, she almost wanted to howl at him to just get on with it, but his thoughtfulness still induced a strange shiver that wasn’t in the slightest bit to do with the flesh.

  “I’m ready, Ethan,” she said, pulling at his wrist in an attempt to urge him to replace his fingers with another part of his anatomy.

  “I hope so,” he said, sitting up, his handsome face more serious. “I’ll be careful, but I don’t want to hurt you….” He pursed his lips, and then leaned over her more closely, cradling her face with the very fingers that had touched her. “You have nothing to fear from me, Lucy. I’m clean and healthy, and I’ll pull out in time to stop you getting pregnant.”

  Those considerations had never crossed her mind, she admitted, thinking how naive and foolhardy she must seem to him. It was a good job that one of them had at least retained a modicum of good sense and reality in this most unreal of encounters.

  “Thank you,” she said, placing her hand over his. “And I do trust you, Ethan,” she added, meaning the words completely.

  With a kiss on her forehead, he sealed their pact, and then leaned back again, to divest himself of his clothing.

  Stockings, breeches and drawers, they all came off quickly. He moved with a blend of grace, and obvious hunger to be rid of them. When he was bare, he threw himself down beside her again, an object of sublime male beauty, all golden skin and perfect rippling muscle. Running her hand down his flank, Lucy wondered whether he might be something of a naturist. She’d first noticed when he was bathing that he was quite sun-kissed all over, his skin color even and sleekly glowing.

  “Do I meet with your approval?” He smiled at her, and then set his hand to his cock, as if displaying it as a treasure laid before her.

  “Eminently, as you well know.” If she were not so avid to experience the carnal act, she would have hungered to kiss and lick him once again. Gripping his hip, she urged him toward her. “Please, Ethan, lie with me. I’m anxious to know what it’s like to be possessed by a man.”

  “Then you shall, dearest heart, you shall.”

  Strong and gleaming, he moved over her, and she spread her thighs wide to accommodate him. Poised there, his kissed her lips, her cheek, the side of her neck, while his warm cock brushed against her, nudging her thighs and her female curls as he moved and kissed and breathed. She could feel the satin moisture at his tip dampening her skin.

  But still he didn’t thrust in. Instead her reached down to fondle her again, playing with the little bud that was the source of all sensation most intense. He meant to ready her to the utmost of his abilities, and she knew a lesser man would not have been so courteous.

  “Please, I’m ready,” she whispered, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Very well…” It was almost a sigh, and as he spoke, Lucy felt the firm press of his cock against her entrance. Somehow the sensation of it gave an impression that it was far larger than it looked.

  A moment of apprehension gripped her, but she braced her spirits and squashed it, and when Ethan started to push, she pushed back, just as determinedly.

  There was pain. She’d expected that. But nothing like the piercing agony the young ladies at her Mademoiselle’s Collegiate had spoken of in dramatic whispers, all those years ago. It was a sensation of pressure, a relentless pressure, a discomfort, but the fierce expression on Ethan’s face only fired her own ferocity. Reaching behind him, she grabbed his firm backside and urged him on, almost throwing her hips at him in a reciprocal surge.

  “I’m hurting you,” he gasped, and she felt him hesitate.

  “No, you are not!” She threw the lie back at him, redoubling her efforts. Guided by instinct, she ran her fingertips down the central division between his buttocks, and tickled the little vent there in an encouraging action.

  Ethan roared and his hips plunged like a steam-driven hammer. Her virgin barrier instantly yielded. Sharp pain flared for a second, but she ignored it, still pushing upward, wanting, wanting, wanting his flesh inside her.

  “Oh my dear, oh my dear,” he chanted in her ear, his body stilling as he reached his depth inside her.

  Lucy could not speak, only lie there, lost in wonder.

  She was possessed by a man, joined with him, feeling his solid unbending flesh lodged deep inside her. She’d never expected this, never expected another man after her former sweetheart to ever want her. Although on hearing of its pleasures from the Ladies’ Sewing Circle, she’d always hoped and dreamed that a chance might come.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she reached up to snatch off her spectacles and toss them aside so she could dash away the drops. Above her, Ethan’s face became a blur, but she could still see the shadows of concern, despite that. “Don’t worry,” she said, reaching up and touching his cheek, “I’m weeping because I’m happy. Not because I’m sad.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely… You’re my rescuer, dear Ethan, my savior. You’ve saved me from the curse of being an old maid who never knew the pleasure of a man.”

  Kissing her, he laughed. “Nonsense, my dear, you’re a handsome and desirable woman, and clearly all the men you’ve encountered thus far are undiscerning fools, unable to see a treasure set before them.”

  Lucy’s laughter was a little damp, but heartfelt. It was difficult to remain lachrymose with the delicious sensation of a big sturdy cock inside her, stretching her.

  “In that case, I choose to believe you,” she answered, the urge to wriggle around, rub herself against him, and explore the effect that had on their joined bodies becoming overwhelming. She squirmed against the feather mattress, and clung on hard to Ethan’s back and his bottom. Within, she flexed other muscles experimentally, and her moan blended with Ethan’s at the result.

  “Ooh…ooh, yes, what a temptress you are,” he panted in her ear. “You feel so delicious, so exquisite, when you do that. Are you sure you’re not a seasoned courtesan with a hundred wicked tricks at your disposal?”

  “No…not that…” She clenched herself around him, loving the way ripples of pleasure seemed to flood her entire cleft and tug on the center of her pleasure, “Just a quick study, with a hitherto undiscovered aptitude.”

  “God almighty…I’ll say so!” Ethan jerked inside her, starting to thrust, moving in and out and creating a whole new arpeggio of sumptuous tingles. Even without her spectacles, she could see him gritting his teeth. “I…forgive me…you feel so particularly wonderful that I’m not sure I can hold on all that long.” He slid a hand beneath her buttocks, pressing her against him for a series of fast, deep lunges that bumped him hard against her most sensitive part.

  Lucy’s heart seemed to turn over. Could she ever have asked for a more thoughtful lover for her first time? She didn’t think so. The Ladies’ Sewing Circle had discussed the shortcomings of men, as well as their finer qualities, and it seemed that some gentleman just took what they wanted wi
thout reference to their partners. Ethan Oakley, however, considered her pleasure above his own.

  “Why hold back at all?” She hugged him harder, tucking her head in against his neck and kissing him there, her tongue lapping at the sweat of his exertions. “You’ve pleasured me already…and well…I’m hoping that we’ll do this again. More than once…”

  “By heaven we will, you goddess! We will!”

  As if taking her permission, Ethan began to thrust furiously—to fuck her, as he growled so eloquently in her ear along with a wide variety of other robust and thrilling epithets. The words were exciting, and rude, and held a power of their own that only added to the intensity of the moment. Lucy found herself murmuring some of them back to him, much to his obvious delight in her sensual prowess.

  Of course such a rambunctious ride could never have lasted long, and within a few moments, the sensations tightened and gathered and swirled like whirlpool. Ethan cried out incoherently, his body pounding her, and at the very last second pulled out abruptly to release his essence against her belly. Almost at her own crescendo, Lucy jammed her parted thighs around the tensed muscle Ethan’s thigh and rocked her puss against him until she reached the dazzling peak. Flexing her legs, she thrust against him almost as hard as he’d thrust into her, and soared again and again, shouting his name as she spent in glorious waves.

  After a moment, they fell back against the bed in a tangle of limbs, their chests heaving, sweat and sensual fluids drying on their hot skin. Lucy’s eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t regret the absence of her spectacles. She was too exhausted and too dazed to look at anything, and she could see everything of Ethan with her mind’s eye.

  And she would see him thus forever, lying over her, eyes brilliant, face a vision of male beauty, contorted by passion. This was but a temporary liaison, a brief idyll out of time, she accepted that; but at least she had that vision, and these hours, to remember. Far better to have at least known pleasure and passion—and perhaps a form of love, even, however fleetingly—than to have gone through life never knowing, never feeling.