The Maid's Tale Ch. 02bychristinamonroe©
As Mary left the room, confused and dazed, her Master leaned back in his seat. Stroking his moustache, he inhaled the lingering scent of her from his fingers. He knew that this young woman would prove an interesting diversion. It had been a long time since he had found a maid with a sensuality to match his own. She may have been an innocent, untouched, but now he knew that she would want to explore, that she would be whoever he wanted her to be, do whatever he wanted her to do. He thought back over all the women he had possessed, many of them maids from this House. Only one, he considered, came close to matching Mary's fervour. Strange, he thought, that one had had the same tall stature, the same wealth of long hair the colour of sun-kissed wheat....
Meanwhile, Mary made her way down to the kitchens where she knew Cook would be waiting for her with a list of duties. She felt a deep hunger, a longing to finish what her Master had started, a need to reach that peak of pleasure that he had cruelly denied her. But she had no time; her duties were endless, even minutes spent in the privy were begrudged, but she didn't think she could wait until nightfall and the silence of her attic room. Luck was on her side today, however, as Cook laid out her errands for the day.
She was to take a packed lunch down to the far pasture where Mr Brook, the chief groom and the stable lads were exercising the horses. They knew lunch was coming; she was to set off without delay. It was a long walk, at least a mile and difficult going in winter, but Mary welcomed the diversion. She knew she had to pass through a small copse of trees before reaching the pasture-that would afford her the privacy she needed. She fetched a warm cloak and hefted the baskets that Cook had packed-pastries, cooked meat, cheese and bread. Setting off at a brisk pace, bright in her red cloak, she enjoyed the walk. The day was cold but the winter sun was bright and she relished the chance to be out in the clean crisp air. She couldn't take her mind off her master's behaviour that morning. Why had he stopped? Was that her punishment? She could feel the moisture still between her legs, and she speeded up, a desire to touch herself there growing stronger. Reaching the small wood, she soon found a clearing created by the felling of a huge oak. The trunk lay neglected, and this was perfect seating for her. She was warm after her walk, and didn't feel the cold as she slowly lifted her petticoats and began to fumble in her underclothes.
Unbeknown to Mary, Mr Brook the groom had sent one of his lads to meet her. He knew the maids sometimes had funny ideas about the wood and, being a thoughtful man, he dispatched Jack, the youngest stable boy, to guide the maid through the trees. Jack had spotted her red cloak from afar and had altered direction to meet her. Jack was a quiet boy, only 19, but good with the horses: he claimed gypsy ancestry and knew plant lore, curing them where others had failed.
From the direction the girl in the red cloak had taken, Jack knew she was headed for the oak clearing and made his way there, grumbling a little at being away from his beloved horses.
He saw Mary sitting on the tree trunk, facing away from him, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. She appeared to be rubbing at her belly, and he heard a low moan escape her lips. Was she hurt? He wondered, and made to step forward. Then he realised that her legs were spread apart, her petticoats raised and her hand was buried between her legs. He edged slowly around the clearing, hidden in the trees until he could get a clearer view of what was happening. What he saw shocked him beyond all imagining. Mary had her knees drawn up and her thighs spread. He could see wet pink folds, half hidden by her frantically rubbing fingers; her fingers seem to dip inside her, Mary pushing her fingers in deeper and deeper. He gasped out loud at such an erotic display. Mary, in her throes of ecstasy, heard and her eyes flew open. She saw the tall young stable boy in front of her, staring at her private parts so lewdly exposed, his hand covering his groin, beginning to rub at what lay there. Shocked, she tried to pull down her skirts, but he stepped forward to stop her.
'Please' he said 'please don't stop. I want to watch, I won't hurt you, I just want to watch'.
He raised his eyes to her face and she saw desire there. He moved closer and knelt in front of her. In a daze, she pulled her skirts up again, spreading her thighs. For the first time, Jack smelt the rich tang of an aroused woman and this overpowered him; a heady musky scent, he wanted to taste it, to drown in it. He leaned in closer, his face between her thighs, watching her fingers stroke the fleshy lips of her sex.
'Can I touch you?' he asked quietly 'I just want to touch,,,I won't hurt you,' and he lifted a fingertip to join hers, stroking at the pink folds and crevices, reaching deeper into her vagina, feeling the wetness there. His fingers didn't have the expertise of her Masters, but she was so sensitive that any touch would have her crying out in passion.
Mary groaned-she pulled her thighs back as far as she could to allow his fingers better access. As she held her lips apart for him he began to probe her deeper and deeper. She could feel her passion building, and felt release coming. Then he stopped. Opening her eyes, she watched him move closer, and suddenly she felt his mouth on her, his tongue licking at her sex, sucking at the folds of flesh. This feeling was like nothing she had experienced. His lips moved over her mound and kissed the crisp curls of hair, and then back to that nub of tissue that seemed the centre of her pleasure, provoking irresistible sensations that made her forget all about her Master, all about her work. Her hands found their way down to the back of his head, pushing him deeper into her, holding him tightly in the fragrant glade of her sex, sucking and licking at her womanhood. She reached her climax, her pelvis rocking against him, and the pleasure seeming to go on and on, not fading, until at last she was exhausted and had to push him away.
Jack stood up, his face smeared in her juices, his eyes glazed with longing; his cock was hard, almost painful. He had never been with a woman, but the other stable hands, all older, had talked a lot, and for the first time he understood the hold that these fragile creatures had. Looking down at Mary, her legs were still lewdly held apart, her breathing coming in short gasps; he wanted to bury his cock in her to the hilt, to feel her engulf him. She looked up and smiled; it was if she knew what he wanted and she reached for him, freeing his cock herself and running her small hands up and down the shaft. She hadn't seen her Masters cock yet, only felt it inside her and she wanted to learn what she could from this boy.
His erection was so firm that it stood flat and tight against his stomach, rigid and unyielding, smooth as carved stone. She ran her fingertips around the tip and watched him shudder, then started to caress his shaft with short, light strokes. She could feel it twitch between her fingers, and suddenly knew she wanted him to plunge into her. Leaning back on the old oak trunk, resting on her elbows, her thighs spread in invitation, she guided him into the entrance and felt the weight of him against her. Pushing himself against her, he groaned as he felt the incredible heat of her, the wetness and slipperiness that surrounded him. All too soon, the feeling was too much and he erupted, flooding her with his seed.
For a moment he rested against her, then stood up, still trembling slightly.
He watched as she wiped herself carefully, shuddering whenever she inadvertently touched her sex, knowing that she still wanted more. She smiled at him and he knew then that this was going to be only the first time. Settling her skirts, she made to get up to collect the baskets.
He took them from her, and silently, not needing to talk, they went to take lunch to the rest of the stablemen.