The Maid Returns

With this double stimulation, it didn't take long for Phillip to come and he held tight on to her hips as he pumped wads of thick cream into her. As he withdrew, his cock beginning to soften, droplets fell onto Thomas's face. Thomas continued to lick at Mary's pussy, nibbling her delicate inner lips and rolling his tongue across her pleasure bud, using Phillip's come as lubricant and enjoying the mingled tastes in his mouth. She came quickly, her cries of pleasure muffled by his cock still deep in her throat. She fell forward, gasping and exhausted.

Thomas still hadn't come, knowing that he wanted to save this for Phillip. The two men helped her stand, laughing a little at her wobbly legs but enjoying the sight of jism oozing from her, bubbling out of her pussy and greasing her thighs. They helped her into the bedroom, where she snuggled up on the fur coverlet.

They hadn't finished yet. They climbed on to the bed beside her, and Thomas lay back, telling Phillip to get to work.

Mary watched as Thomas's cock was soon surrounded by Phillip's massaging hand. As the bulbous helmet began to firm up, Phillip leaned forward and began to suck gently. The sexual teasing soon worked, and he could take the thick shaft deeper and deeper into his throat.

Thomas groaned as he closed his eyes, relaxing back on the bed. He was letting Phillip do all the work, enjoying the feel of the man's hands on him. Phillips fingers were drifting over Thomas's chest, teasing his nipples and rubbing the insides of his muscular thighs as he continued to suck.

Phillip's tongue swirled around Thomas's cock, nibbling at the thick ridge, licking up and down the shaft. He wanted to feel this cock inside him, to feel the bigger man ploughing into him, buried deep inside. As his movements became faster and more intense, Thomas began to rock his hips, fucking his thick phallus into Phillip's mouth. Phillip pulled back his head until only the bulbous cock tip was inside his greedy mouth, and then he took hold firmly at the base of Thomas's cock. Sliding slowly up from the base to his mouth and down again, he began masturbating Phillip. He worked slowly at first, then speeded up to a steady rate, holding him tight, still tonguing the tip, pushing down into the tiny piss-slit at the apex.

Thomas's erection was throbbing now, thick and powerful. He knew what Phillip wanted, but first he wanted to taste Phillip's cock, to give him the same sensations that were flooding through his body. He flipped Phillip over onto his back, and began to work his way down his body, licking at the Baron's nipples, biting and nibbling until he reached the man's cock, standing stiff and full. He pulled back the foreskin gently and began to lick, wrapping his hand around the shaft and winding it around, a steady pressure that was accompanied by his mouth closing round the tip, tasting already of tart juices. Although Phillip had just emptied his come into Mary, he could feel another orgasm rising; it had been a long time since he had been with another man, and he had missed this.

Thomas spread Phillip's thighs apart to reveal Phillip's tightly puckered anus and began to finger it gently, pressuring the firm ring. A groan escaped Phillip's lips, and he hunched down a little, trying to force Thomas's finger to enter. Phillip's cock twitched; he was so close to coming already, and Thomas's continued sucking of his cock was tormenting him beyond endurance. Thomas continued to work, varying his rhythm and pressure, stimulating the cock tip with his tongue until he felt Phillip's scrotum tense up. His mouth moved more vigorously, working Phillip up to a climax.

Thomas grabbed Phillip's buttocks and pulled his cock firmly into his mouth, feeling his throat dilate. Phillip rammed hard, pumping his shaft heedlessly, wanting only to come. Only a little hot seed erupted, but Phillip bucked and shuddered as the almost-dry orgasm wracked his body.

Thomas took his mouth off the man's stiff cock and moved down to his anus, where he began to smear the creamy sauce all over the puckered ring around his finger.

He began preparing him for a quick penetration. He tongued the tight hole, pushing some of the man's own come inside him, and started to loosen him up.

First one finger, then two, then three slid inside as Phillip's hips began to buck. His head swayed from side to side, and his back arched as he tried to accommodate Thomas's sturdy fingers exploring his anus.

Thomas pushed Phillip's legs right back, and taking his own cock in his hand, he spat a little more of Phillip's come from his mouth onto it, smearing it over the head and shaft. He placed it at the puckered rosebud and Phillip raised his legs high on Thomas's shoulders. Thomas pushed hard, ramming his cock into him, fucking him like a woman. He held Phillip by the ankles and pounded into him, his tight scrotum slapping against Phillip's bottom. Phillip was panting, breathless gasps as the air was pushed from his lungs by the force of Thomas's thrusts.

Mary leaned over his body to play with his cock, now flaccid against his belly. He was still sensitive, quivering under her hands, and she moved down to cup his scrotum and gently play with his balls. Thomas was thrusting into Phillip so hard that her hand was caught against his stomach, and she was able to turn it slightly and reach Thomas's tight sac.

He was groaning now, and Mary's small hand on his scrotum triggered his orgasm. As he felt his seed rise, he pulled out from Phillip and aimed his cock at Mary's face. Her mouth closed over the rounded tip just as the first hot spurts were released, hitting the back of her throat. She couldn't swallow quickly enough, and dribbles escaped to run down her chin. She fell back, and turned to face Phillip. They kissed, sharing the taste of Thomas's come between them.

Both the men were exhausted now, needing time for recuperation. Mary decided to leave them to nap, and went to sort out the fire in the day room. She was sitting there, watching the embers when Thomas joined her.

He sat close to her and she smiled up at him. He noticed how similar she was to her sister, the same deep blue eyes, the same gold hair and sweet smile. 'Are you happy, Mary?' he asked softly.

'Oh, yes, we're very happy,' she smiled again.

'We?'

'Phillip and I, I mean,' she felt very daring using his name. She had very rarely done so, and he seemed to prefer her to address him as 'sir'. But tonight, she felt very close to him again and wanted to tell Thomas how much Phillip mean to her.

'And has Phillip told you who you are?' his expression was faraway, unfathomable.

Mary didn't know what he meant, and a confused look crossed her face.

'He is your father, Mary. Victoria is your half-sister,' he told her bluntly, not really sure why he had done so, but agreeing with Victoria that it was cruel of Phillip not to tell her. He thought perhaps that she would respond in the same way that Victoria had done, welcoming her father's caresses, and he was unprepared for the shock and anger that blighted her expression.

For a long moment she could only look at him.

'Do you understand what I said?' he was concerned at her silence, and was quickly beginning to realise that maybe he shouldn't have exposed the secret.

'My father. Phillip is my father,' she repeated, almost stupidly.

He put his arm around her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and stood up. Hugging her arms around herself, she faced the fire, trembling.

'Why?' she asked, 'why did he do this?'

Thomas tried to explain that Phillip hadn't known at first, that he had only realised long after their relationship had started and that he couldn't bring himself to end it.

'And what about Victoria?' she asked, listening to his stumbling explanation.

Thomas struggled; he had no answer for why Phillip had engineered the situation with the two sisters other than lust. Mary's anger began to grow as she took in the implications of her life with Phillip. He had thrown her mother out and left her to die in the poor house; he had seduced his own daughter, sharing her with his friend, allowed her to be assaulted by her sister, and had fathered the child in her belly.

She knew she couldn't stay here any longer, but she knew also that Phillip couldn't get wind of her plans to leave or he would find some way of preventing her. Of one thing she was certain: she would never allow him to get near her babe-this was one child of his who would be untouched.

She kept all of this from showing in her face. Thomas would tell Phillip, and so she made a show of calming down, and apparently accepting the shocking news. She excused herself and went to her dressing room to dress properly, knowing that if she was in an undressed state near Phillip he would demand intimacy and she could not contemplate that; he would never touch her again.

Phillip slept long, and woke in a pleasant mood. He and Thomas headed back to the house late in the night, leaving Mary to plan.

Over the months, he had handed over money casually for dressmakers and other fripperies. Mary had spent very little and was able to gather together a sizable amount, enough for her to live on until she had decided her future. She bundled all of her jewels into a travelling case; these could be sold as, for certain, she would never wear them again. Very early that morning, she set out from the cottage, knowing that Phillip and Thomas would be too engrossed in games of their own to call on her for a time.

Reaching the nearby village on foot, she was able to hire a carriage to take her to Marsden, the small town where she and Jack had set up home. Since Thomas's revelation, her only thought had been Jack. He was her true love and she had treated him abysmally, abandoning him, breaking his heart.

She looked forward eagerly to seeing him again, dreaming of his strong arms around her, thinking again of her firstborn son that she had left with Jack. This time, she would be a real mother, she decided, and began to dream of their reunion.

She arrived shortly after lunch, and almost ran the short distance to Jack's house. Betsy answered the door; Mary's former friend was heavily pregnant, her burgeoning stomach held awkwardly in front of her. She looked at Mary with such venom that Mary involuntarily took a step back.

'What do you want?' she demanded, standing in the open doorway, barring entry.

Mary was shocked. But what she couldn't know were the thoughts racing through Betsy's mind. She was a gentle soul, but in the months after Mary had left them, Betsy had become a true wife to Jack, and she loved him dearly. She knew Jack had loved Mary and knew that if she were allowed back into their lives, Betsy would be left out again. Jack was her man now, and she would fight for him with every weapon she possessed.

The two women looked at each other, then the tense silence was broken by a child's voice calling 'Mama! Mama!'

As Mary peered in, she saw a sturdy toddler running to the door, chubby legs pumping. He was Jack in miniature, and her heart lifted as she realised that Phillip's blood didn't taint this babe of hers. She made to hold out her arms to him, then icy shock ran through her as the child ran to Betsy, hiding his head in her skirts, suddenly shy of the stranger at the door.

Betsy leaned down and swung him up onto her hip in a practiced move. He rested his head against her shoulder, peering suspiciously at Mary.

She felt tears begin to flow for the first time since Thomas's declaration.

Betsy looked sternly at her. It was obvious that their master had tired of her and had thrown her out, but Mary had walked out of their lives without a second's thought, leaving them behind to make the best of things. And they had; now married, a well respected couple, a husband known as a hard worker making a success of his stables, she knew that if Mary came back, all this would be in jeopardy. Betsy had been an orphan; she had longed for stability and now had it and she wasn't going to allow that to be challenged.

Mary swallowed, biting back her tears. Her pride would not allow her to beg and not allow her to reveal why she had left the Manor House. She wouldn't throw herself on Betsy's mercy, recognising that there was none there. She knew that if she found Jack, she could persuade him to let her stay, but realised this would be futile. Betsy was determined and there was no place for her there.

With a last, longing look at the child in Betsy's arms, she turned without a word. Her hand slipped unconsciously to her stomach; this child was hers.

She would make a home for them somewhere, and picking up her bags, she walked away, her back held straight, her head high.