Talisman Ch. 4: Lucy McFey

"Yes," Emma whispered.

"Louder, Emma," demanded Lucy. "I didn't hear you properly. Would you like Richard to make love to you all night long? Would you?"

"Yes!" Emma screamed, "Yes, yes, yes!"

"I thought so," said Lucy musingly, walking around Emma, studying her. Emma was startled to feel Lucy's hand squeeze her bottom as she passed behind her.

"Nice," said Lucy, "so firm. Richard will like that."

"He'll never come near me," Emma cried despairingly.

"Oh, I'll make sure he does, dear Emma. If you couldn't be his wife, would you be his mistress?"

"Yes," Emma whispered.

"Ah," said Lucy. "I thought so. You love him, don't you?"

"With all my heart," said Emma, realising with a great sense of relief that she had spoken nothing but the truth, and finally fully acknowledged the desire she had been denying to herself.

"I will be leaving soon," Lucy said.

"I thought you were staying for a month," said Emma, startled again.

"That is what dear Mama thinks, Emma, and so does Richard. Arthur said he would come and rescue me, just as soon as he could."

"Rescue you," cried Emma. "From what? I do not think that what I saw last night was unwilling!"

Lucy smiled reminiscently. "Not on my part, true, but Richard took some persuading. When he realised that I was serious, I swear he grew to hardness almost immediately." Lucy giggled. "He was exceeding pleased to be rid of his breeches." She sobered and studied Emma again. "But now it's time for us."

"What do you mean?" asked Emma cautiously, wondering just what Lucy McFey had in mind.

"Have you ever made love to a woman, Emma?"

Numbly, Emma shook her head.

"I have," said Lucy, "and I assure you it is very pleasant, so I'm going to make love to you, Emma, and then you're going to make love to me."

"I don't know how," whispered Emma, a strange excitement building in her.

"I know what feels good to me, when Richard or Arthur do it," said Lucy, "so I'll do that to you, as best I can. Then you can return the favour." Lucy reached out and pulled Emma gently towards her. The two girls were almost the same height and Emma closed her eyes as Lucy raised her lips for a kiss.

The shock as their lips met was followed by a greater one as Emma felt Lucy's breasts press against her own. Lucy's lips were warm and soft and Emma realised with a guilty shock that she was enjoying the kiss. Tentatively she put her arms around Lucy enjoying the feel of the warm smoothness of her skin and felt the younger girl press against her. Lucy gently broke the kiss and leaned back in the circle of Emma's arms. She smiled.

"That was nice," she said. "Let's do it again."

Eagerly this time, Emma leaned into Lucy's kiss. It was firmer this time and with a shock, Emma felt Lucy's tongue pressing into her mouth. Unconsciously, her lips opened and her own tongue crept out to duel with Lucy's, the heat of the kiss building in both of them until Emma broke the kiss, shuddering, staring at Lucy who regarded her with equal surprise.

Lucy smiled at Emma. "As nice a kiss as any man e'er gave me," she said.

Emma smiled tremulously back at her. "My first with either sex. At least, a kiss of that sort."

"It shall not be your last, Emma. Come, let us lie on my bed." Lucy took Emma's hand and pulled her to the bed, urging her onto it. "Lie in the middle, Emma, that I may kiss you and touch you."

"Touch me?" asked Emma, something in her thrilling at the thought of the younger woman's touch.

"Yes, touch you." Lucy scrambled onto the bed beside Emma, kneeling, her legs spread. Glancing across Emma saw the rosy cleft of Lucy's quim peeping through her blonde curls, glistening now with a hint of her juices.

I must look like that, thought Emma, for I certainly feel as wet. Lucy reached out to her and caressed her cheek, cupping her chin and stroking with extended finger along the line of Emma's jaw. Impulsively, Emma turned her head and kissed Lucy's hand.

Lucy chuckled. "I think I sense a slackening of your resistance, Emma."

Emma laughed. "Poof! It is gone! I want now only to enjoy what you plan for me, and to repay you in kind." Oh, yes! Touch me, Lucy, she thought, for I am on fire.

"Aah," said Lucy, "you like my touch?"

Emma flushed and smiled. "I do."

"You shall have more of it," said Lucy, running her hand over Emma's shoulder, to her elbow, then stroking back up the underside of Emma's arm, softly cupping the lower slopes of Emma's breast, until with a shock as fierce as summer lightning, Lucy's thumb stroked across Emma's now-engorged nipple. Emma gasped and Lucy chuckled. "You like that; I can tell."

"Oh, yes!" cried Emma, "I have never felt my nipples harder, ever."

Lucy glanced down at herself and giggled. "Mine own, too, Emma dear. Look!"

Emma looked at Lucy and saw that her nipples were, like her own, full and hard. She reached out tentatively to touch Lucy's breast, feeling it soft and heavy in her hand, the nipple a hard nub against her thumb. Her hand brushed the pendant and she felt a sudden rush of something - love, desire, lust, she knew not - rush through her. She drew Lucy to her and kissed her fiercely, their mouths open to each other, their tongues fighting for dominance in the arena of their mouths.

Gasping, Emma broke the kiss, her hands all over Lucy as the younger woman trailed kisses down her neck, her shoulder, kissing down the valley between her breasts, then kissing each nipple, her teeth clamping gently, tightening in exquisite torment on each nub. Lucy moved down further, kissing Emma's belly, moving down, excitement building rapidly in Emma as Lucy's teeth tugged playfully at the soft, tawny curls on Emma's mons.

Emma moved her legs apart unconsciously as Lucy moved lower, lapping at the juices in her cleft, her tongue pointed to pierce and probe Emma's quim, flicking her clitoris lightly, tormentingly, building sensation in Emma, so fierce that she felt as if all the sensation within herself was centred between her legs. Lucy's tongue was tormenting her, teasing her, torturing her so that she could scarcely breathe, building, building. Emma screamed in sudden climax as Lucy's teeth closed gently over the bud of her clitoris, peeping from its sheath in her excitement. Her belly rippled as the sensations ripped through her and she felt herself falling, falling, falling….

"Emma, Emma dear, are you all right?"

Emma became aware of Lucy's anxious face, concern in her look. She reached out and squeezed Lucy's fingers, then ran her fingers up to stroke Lucy's breast. "I believe I fainted, Lucy." Emma smiled slowly. "I think that was the most exquisite sensation I have ever experienced. What did you do to me?"

"I bit on your little soldier, but ever so gently, and I slid a finger into your quim, then you screamed and fainted." Lucy grinned, suddenly. "I know you're still a virgin," she said.

Emma flushed, embarrassed suddenly. "I am," she confirmed.

"We must get Richard to change that for you, shall we?" asked Lucy archly.

Emma bit her lip. "I will not force myself on him, and I cannot conceive of a gentleman forcing himself on a lady."

"There will be no forcing, Emma dear, believe me." Lucy smiled. "But I believe it is now your turn to pleasure me."

Emma sat up eagerly. "It is, and if I can make you feel anything like as good as you did me, Lucy, then you will be in heaven." A small corner of Emma's mind was wondering what she was doing, but the pleasure she was experiencing drove sense from her head and she was suddenly eager to show the younger woman that she could give her equal pleasure in return.

Lucy lay back and Emma leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. Her own nipples were still hard and erect and in sudden inspiration she bent and rubbed her breasts across Lucy's, so that their nipples rubbed against each other. Involuntarily she moaned as she heard Lucy's gasp of pleasure.

Emma moved down and trailed her tongue from the valley between Lucy's breasts, broadened now as she lay supine, up to a nipple, to suck on it then lightly clamp it with her teeth, hearing Lucy's fresh gasp of pleasure with pleasure of her own. Then back, down into the valley and up to the other summit, nipping lightly on the bud, a shock of pleasure passing through her as her tongue touched the pendant.

Lucy was stroking Emma's head and suddenly she tugged the combs from Emma's hair, combing Emma's tawny locks with her fingers so that her hair was in wild profusion about her shoulders. Emma concentrated on running her tongue down Lucy's belly, pointing it suddenly and dabbing at Lucy's navel. Lucy giggled and Emma smiled, her tongue tracing lazy circles over Lucy's lower belly, then weaving its way through the blonde curls to Lucy's sex, hot and open, pungent to her nose, inviting.

Again Emma pointed her tongue and this time pressed lightly into Lucy's quim, hot and salty-sweet on her tongue, inviting. Emma lapped at Lucy's sex like a kitten with milk, smiling to herself as she heard Lucy's moans of pleasure, licking at Lucy's clitoris, more prominent than her own, but just as sensitive judging by the taut moans Lucy was uttering, moans that thrilled and stimulated Emma, exciting her as she brought the younger woman closer to climax. She remembered what Lucy had done and slid a finger into Lucy's sex, feeling it tight around her finger, then let her teeth brush Lucy's clitoris, exulting in her power as she felt Lucy tremble and then scream as her climax shot through her.

As Lucy gradually calmed, Emma sat back on her heels, knees apart, and lifted her arms to push back the heavy mass of her hair. That was the scene that greeted Richard Faulkner as he burst into the room, exclaiming, "I heard a scream!"

Emma yelped and tried to grab the bed cover to cover herself, failed to get a grip properly and threw herself face down on the bed, trembling, trying to cover herself with her hands. Oh dear God, she thought, for Richard Faulkner to find me like this! Lucy smiled sweetly at Faulkner who stood with an amazed look upon his face.

"You're back early, Richard," said Lucy calmly, "we didn't expect you back until tomorrow."

"I forgot some of my papers," said Faulkner absently. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Will someone please tell me what passes here?"

"Emma and I have been making love, Richard, is it not obvious? I have heard it told that it can be sweet to love a woman, but I confess I find it lacking. Emma's finger is no substitute for that mighty cock between your legs."

"You and Emma have been making love?" asked Faulkner, perplexed. "Why?"

Lucy shrugged, her breasts bobbing prettily. "I wanted to and you weren't here, so I persuaded Emma. She's lovely, isn't she? She's virgin, too."

Beside Lucy Emma wailed, her face buried in the bed, her hands over her head, trying to curl herself into the smallest space possible. Faulkner regarded her. His housekeeper, always so polite and correct in her dealings with him, so remote, seemingly unattainable, now found naked on the bed with another woman. Absently he admired the curve of her spine as she crouched, the flare of her waist, the saucy jut of her bottom. His prick twitched in his breeches. Is her front as exciting as her back, he wondered? He looked at Lucy and she smiled, cupping a breast and offering it to him while her other hand played idly with the soft curls on her mons.

She looked up at him under her eyelashes. "Why don't you take your clothes off and join us, Richard?" she asked softly, "Emma is in love with you. She wants to make love to you, don't you, Emma?"

Emma wailed anew and tried again to make herself invisible.

A shock went through Faulkner. "Is it true, Emma?" asked Faulkner urgently, "Are you in love with me? I pray it is so, dear Emma, for I have long wanted you."

Emma could barely believe her ears. Richard Faulkner declaring his desire for her? Was it possible? She raised her tear-stained face slightly and looked shyly up at him. Faulkner sat down on the bed next to her and put his hand on her bare shoulder, stroking lightly, reveling in the warm touch of her skin.

"It's true, Emma," he said softly, "I love you. I have almost since the day we met, but you were so correct, so remote, I dared not speak of it, lest I offend you. I did not dare to think a woman like you could love me."

"You love me, Richard?" Emma said wonderingly.

"Aye, dear heart, I do."

"Oh, Richard, I love you too," Emma cried, springing up onto her knees on the bed and lacing her fingers behind his neck, raining kisses on his face. She stopped suddenly, horror on her face and tried again to cover herself.

"Oh, what must you think of me?" she cried.

Faulkner took Emma by the shoulders and shook her gently. "Emma, look at me. Emma?"

Shyly, Emma raised her tear-stained face. "Yes, Richard?"

Deliberately, Faulkner let his eyes roam over Emma's naked torso, admiring, taking in the curving swell of her breasts, the slenderness of her waist, the flare of her hips, the tawny mane of hair flowing about her shoulders. She gasped at the almost physical impact of his gaze.

"You are lovely, Emma, truly. I want to make love to you; I want to make love to you now. May I Emma? May I make love to you?"

"Oh, yes, Richard, please, yes," whispered Emma and, trembling, raised her lips to his as he brought his head down to kiss her.

The kiss was soft at first, shy even, but Emma was losing herself in the sensation and she was not surprised when Faulkner's lips parted and his tongue insinuated itself. Eagerly she welcomed it, twining it with her own, the kiss lifting her, an ache growing between her legs, an ache that could only be eased by feeling Richard Faulkner's prick entering her. It was almost a physical blow when Lucy spoke.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, my dears," she said, "but this is my bedroom. I wish the two of you well, but I'd rather like to have my breakfast now. Emma is very tasty, but she doesn't satisfy normal hunger. Why don't you take Emma to your room, Richard? I'll join you later if I may, but I think that perhaps, just for now, three is very much a crowd. Do you not agree?"

Faulkner laughed. "You are right, Lucy. May she join us later, my dear?" he asked Emma.

"Please, yes, do join us, Lucy," said Emma, reaching out for Lucy's hand and squeezing her fingers, but thinking, 'No! I want him to myself!'

"I will," said Lucy, laughing as Faulkner slid a hand under Emma's knees and shoulders and picked her up, naked as she was. Emma put her arms around Faulkner's neck and buried her face in his shoulder, so that she did not have to show the raw desire in her gaze.

"Would you open the doors for me, please?" Faulkner asked Lucy, chuckling as the naked young woman sauntered past him with an exaggerated roll of her hips. Lucy opened her bedroom door with a flourish and waved Faulkner through, then scampered past and opened his own bedroom door. All the while he was carrying her, Emma was raining kisses on Faulkner's face and neck and when he laid her down on his bed she stretched luxuriantly, like a cat, exulting in the desire that showed on his face, desire that could only match her own, never exceed it.

"Oh, Emma," whispered Faulkner, "you are so beautiful, my love." He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out slowly, giving Emma plenty of time if she wished to avoid his touch, but as his hand came down, she arched her back the sooner to let her breast feel his touch. Her nipples were hard and aching and the warm roughness of his horseman's hand sent a quiver through her. She moaned softly and Faulkner hesitated. Quickly, Emma's own hand came up to keep his in place.

"Your touch is exciting to me, dearest Richard," she whispered. Faulkner smiled and bent over to kiss her gently.

"Are you ready, my love?" Faulkner asked softly.

Inspired, and led by an impulse so new to her that she was unaware, she took his hand and placed it between her legs. "Feel me," she whispered, "feel how ready I am."

Faulkner groaned and stroked his finger along her cleft, then brought his finger to his mouth and licked off her juices. Emma was startled and stared at him.

Faulkner smiled. "I love the taste of a woman, Emma, and you have the sweetest flavour I have known." He stood and removed his jacket, discarding it on a bedside chair, and then sat to tug off his boots.

Emma lay on her side, propped on her elbow, watching her lover prepare himself to take her. I am about to lose my virginity, she thought, and outside of wedlock, too. I should be ashamed, but I am not. I am excited, I am willing, and at this moment I want nothing more than to feel Richard Faulkner's prick enter my body. She studied Faulkner as he undressed. His back was to her and she watched the play of the muscles in his back, gasping as he turned, his erection rampant, ready like a stallion for her.

"Oh, Richard," she whispered, gazing in horrified fascination at his hardness, "you are too big!"

"Hush, sweet Emma," said Faulkner, laying beside her and taking her in his arms. "You are so wet I think that you will scarce feel my entry." He reached out and tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear. "Touch me, my love, feel me." He chuckled. "Make friends with he who violates your maidenhead."

Trembling, Emma reached out timidly and touched Faulkner's prick, then snatched her hand back. "It's so hot," she whispered, but then reached out again, this time to stroke, then lightly clasp the bulbous top, scarcely getting her hand around it. "It feels so nice, as if it were covered in velvet," she said, surprised.

Faulkner groaned again. "Ah, Emma, your touch…" He pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely, bruising her mouth. Uncaring, she kissed him back as fervently, stroking his back, feeling him move. She moved her legs apart, so that he could kneel between them, the swollen purple head of his prick vivid in her gaze. Faulkner propped himself on one hand and took hold of his erection with the other, pointing it, aiming.

With a shock of pleasure, Emma felt the head of his prick in her cleft, huge, menacing, but oh, she wanted him so! Faulkner rubbed the head up and down her slit, coating it with her juices, causing shocks of pleasure to run through her as the head rubbed against her clitoris.

"Come into me, Richard," she begged, "fuck me!"

"Aye, lass," said Faulkner hoarsely, "I must, ere I spend upon you instead of within you." He steadied himself and then pushed, and Emma, for the first time in her life, felt a man's erection enter her. Faulkner paused a moment, getting used to the feel of her, coating himself with her juices, then pushed again.

Emma gasped as she felt his prick against her hymen, then winced as Faulkner pushed, gasping in pain as he pushed anew. He drew back, concern on his face.

"Do I hurt you, my sweet?"

"A little. A moment, please," she whispered.

He eased back, the tip of his prick still within her, while Emma adjusted her position slightly. She smiled up at him, a faint beading of sweat on her brow.

"Again, my love. Be gentle, please."

Faulkner pressed forward again. Emma gasped as pain shot through her, then cried aloud at a fresh spasm. Faulkner eased back, concerned, but Emma siezed his hips, pulling him towards her as she thrust fiercely with her own. Stabbing pain shot through her, and then receded as she felt the enormity of sensation of having him within her, deep within her.

"A moment again," she gasped, trembling, trying to ease herself into a position of comfort. Faulkner paused, holding himself immobile. Emma felt the pain diminish, then began to thrill to the sensation of having him within her. Oh, Mama, she thought, you told me I must bear the discomfort of penetration in order to bear children, but you said nothing about the pleasure. She smiled up at Faulkner.